[ With the shocking, harrowing sight of his world falling to nothing still occupying his mind, Link awakes with a sharp gasp and instinctive thrash of his fists outwards. His bare knuckles hit nothing but velvety roots and leaves, and so he grabs at them, trying to make sense of what just happened. What is... this place? How did he get here? He looks around desperately. Plants. Just... plants, roots, leaves, the like. But he can smell more than that. Soil. Is he... is he buried, right now? Underground...?
If it weren't for that glowing gem, he would have to rely on touch alone to recognize the vegetation around him for what it is. As his panic begins to subside, he finds himself staring at it. Then, reaching for it. And finally, as he takes it, what little empty space there is around him begins to fill with dirt. Anyone above ground may hear a fresh, muffled cry of panic beneath their feet, followed by a calloused hand erupting from the earth like some kind of not-actually-dead undead.
Then, a second hand. The pair of hands flail fiercely around, vying for something to grab onto — anything. A root, a rock, an offered hand, or maybe the ankle of someone nearby. Whatever it is that Link finds, his hands latch onto it with an impressive iron grip and an equally impressive yank downwards, as he uses it to heave himself up through the loose dirt and vegetation. A soil-smudged face appears. Its owner chokes a deep, triumphant breath of air, with eyes still blanketed with dirt and clenched shut. ]
H-Hello? [ what is this thing he grabbed? he squeezes it tightly, unwilling to let go. Is someone there? ] Help! Please, help me out!
Ⅱ. FORUM.
[ The past few days have been a whirlwind. Even if it were easy to accept that Hyrule is gone, there is so much for him to have to grasp all at once. The deluge of information alone would be enough to overwhelm the young old man, who despite his status as Champion back home, has never felt comfortable thinking of himself as anything more than a dutiful soldier. The heavy thinking of heavy questions — he always left such things to those smarter and more deliberative than he. Impa, Purah... His fellow Champions... Zelda.
And yet, here he is, being asked to take sides in some grand conflict that he is a complete stranger to. They say he does not have to choose a side. They also say that the Meridian can help him get home. Link is unsure whether he believes that — he saw his world die, same as everyone else, apparently — but if there is any remote chance that it's true, well... the choice is almost made for him. Isn't it? ]
OPTION A (SPRINGSTAR): [ It is with this inclination towards the Meridian that Link wanders into the Tribune's forum. He is not here to ask any specific questions, but rather, to listen more openly to whatever information there is to learn here.
And... to eat. The feast does not go unrecognized. Link eyes the buffet tables like a man who hasn't eaten in days, even though he definitely, definitely has. Even if you were to strike up a conversation with him, he is noticeably distracted by the food. Or, maybe it's the food that has you talking to him — as when he does finally approach the feast, he wastes no time piling his plate high. If the city's food security is so low right now, Link is either an inconsiderate jerk for taking so much, or he has not yet been informed. ]
OPTION B (HIGHSTORM): [ In contrast, Link attends the forum in Highstorm more out of a sense of obligation. From what he's gathered, these two cities are amicable at the moment, but the prevailing mood hints that people are fearing — expecting — that to change soon. Link has no idea how soon, of course, nor does he really know anything about how the two cities have related to each other up until now. But should relations sour, he reasons, then this trip to Highstorm may be one of the few opportunities he'll have to see the place. The open invitation to new Shard-Bearers is the perfect justification for being there, even though he has already provisionally attuned to the Meridian.
The atmosphere in this place is noticeably different. He managed to dress appropriately, at least, although he does not enjoy the restrictive, stuffy tailoring of formal wear. Link is markedly less talkative at this forum, choosing to observe and eavesdrop when he can... but, the reflecting pool captures the entirety of his attention once he discovers it. For most of the evening, he can be found sitting at its edge, gazing into the water, with a look on his face that is anything but pleasantly nostalgic. Instead, he looks troubled, maybe even despairing, with a furrowed brow and slumping shoulders. Nevertheless, he does not look away from whatever it is that he's gazing down at. ]
Ⅲ. ALENROUX.
[ Link meets the call to arms with agreement. After everything he's seen and learned over the past week, this carries with it an almost comforting familiarity. They even provided him with basic weaponry of much better quality than what he was able to sniff out in the city so far. That, alone, makes participation in this campaign worth his time.
Springstar's stated justification for this takeover of Alenroux, while important to know, rests unexamined in the back of Link's mind. What place does he have to second guess any of it? He just got here. But, more importantly: Link doesn't feel that it's his place to question it anyway. Cyrus has offered him a way to save Hyrule. So, if he helps Springstar, it will shorten the time it takes to save it — or so they say. But even with that lingering doubt, what else is there for him to do? Link currently has no answer to that question. He has no interest in what Yima has to offer. He does not want a new world. He wants his world. His mountains and lakes, his forests, his beaches. The bears, the wild horses, and the fish in the rivers. Children playing on the hillsides, old women feeding their chickens. His friends. His princess.
These thoughts occupy his mind as his sword thunks into the scratched wood of the training dummy and stays there, the blade stuck. Frowning, he begins to pull on it to yank it free, when the crunch of a footstep cuts through his deep contemplation. As he turns to face the noise, the iliachtida dangling from neck swings slightly, glowing in the fading sunset twilight.
He doesn't recognize this person, but that's... pretty normal, for a guy who just got here. Considering where he is — the training grounds of a Meridian outpost, lined on one side with racks of both practice weapons and real weapons — he can only assume that this person is here to train. It does not occur to him that they may not even be a Meri in the first place. ]
Ⅳ. WILDCARD!
((The obligatory "or just tag him with your own prompt"! Pretty sure he'd be a Meridian, but not sure on the Aspect yet. You can poke me at lazdo if you wanna talk anything out first! (Or on Discord, for existing players who already know where to find me there. <3) Also, while my Link isn't a total mute, he doesn't talk a whole lot. Please & thank you for your patience if it takes a few tags for him to get talking. ^^;))
Link 🍎 The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
[ With the shocking, harrowing sight of his world falling to nothing still occupying his mind, Link awakes with a sharp gasp and instinctive thrash of his fists outwards. His bare knuckles hit nothing but velvety roots and leaves, and so he grabs at them, trying to make sense of what just happened. What is... this place? How did he get here? He looks around desperately. Plants. Just... plants, roots, leaves, the like. But he can smell more than that. Soil. Is he... is he buried, right now? Underground...?
If it weren't for that glowing gem, he would have to rely on touch alone to recognize the vegetation around him for what it is. As his panic begins to subside, he finds himself staring at it. Then, reaching for it. And finally, as he takes it, what little empty space there is around him begins to fill with dirt. Anyone above ground may hear a fresh, muffled cry of panic beneath their feet, followed by a calloused hand erupting from the earth like some kind of not-actually-dead undead.
Then, a second hand. The pair of hands flail fiercely around, vying for something to grab onto — anything. A root, a rock, an offered hand, or maybe the ankle of someone nearby. Whatever it is that Link finds, his hands latch onto it with an impressive iron grip and an equally impressive yank downwards, as he uses it to heave himself up through the loose dirt and vegetation. A soil-smudged face appears. Its owner chokes a deep, triumphant breath of air, with eyes still blanketed with dirt and clenched shut. ]
H-Hello? [ what is this thing he grabbed? he squeezes it tightly, unwilling to let go. Is someone there? ] Help! Please, help me out!
Ⅱ. FORUM.
[ The past few days have been a whirlwind. Even if it were easy to accept that Hyrule is gone, there is so much for him to have to grasp all at once. The deluge of information alone would be enough to overwhelm the young old man, who despite his status as Champion back home, has never felt comfortable thinking of himself as anything more than a dutiful soldier. The heavy thinking of heavy questions — he always left such things to those smarter and more deliberative than he. Impa, Purah... His fellow Champions... Zelda.
And yet, here he is, being asked to take sides in some grand conflict that he is a complete stranger to. They say he does not have to choose a side. They also say that the Meridian can help him get home. Link is unsure whether he believes that — he saw his world die, same as everyone else, apparently — but if there is any remote chance that it's true, well... the choice is almost made for him. Isn't it? ]
OPTION A (SPRINGSTAR): [ It is with this inclination towards the Meridian that Link wanders into the Tribune's forum. He is not here to ask any specific questions, but rather, to listen more openly to whatever information there is to learn here.
And... to eat. The feast does not go unrecognized. Link eyes the buffet tables like a man who hasn't eaten in days, even though he definitely, definitely has. Even if you were to strike up a conversation with him, he is noticeably distracted by the food. Or, maybe it's the food that has you talking to him — as when he does finally approach the feast, he wastes no time piling his plate high. If the city's food security is so low right now, Link is either an inconsiderate jerk for taking so much, or he has not yet been informed. ]
OPTION B (HIGHSTORM): [ In contrast, Link attends the forum in Highstorm more out of a sense of obligation. From what he's gathered, these two cities are amicable at the moment, but the prevailing mood hints that people are fearing — expecting — that to change soon. Link has no idea how soon, of course, nor does he really know anything about how the two cities have related to each other up until now. But should relations sour, he reasons, then this trip to Highstorm may be one of the few opportunities he'll have to see the place. The open invitation to new Shard-Bearers is the perfect justification for being there, even though he has already provisionally attuned to the Meridian.
The atmosphere in this place is noticeably different. He managed to dress appropriately, at least, although he does not enjoy the restrictive, stuffy tailoring of formal wear. Link is markedly less talkative at this forum, choosing to observe and eavesdrop when he can... but, the reflecting pool captures the entirety of his attention once he discovers it. For most of the evening, he can be found sitting at its edge, gazing into the water, with a look on his face that is anything but pleasantly nostalgic. Instead, he looks troubled, maybe even despairing, with a furrowed brow and slumping shoulders. Nevertheless, he does not look away from whatever it is that he's gazing down at. ]
Ⅲ. ALENROUX.
[ Link meets the call to arms with agreement. After everything he's seen and learned over the past week, this carries with it an almost comforting familiarity. They even provided him with basic weaponry of much better quality than what he was able to sniff out in the city so far. That, alone, makes participation in this campaign worth his time.
Springstar's stated justification for this takeover of Alenroux, while important to know, rests unexamined in the back of Link's mind. What place does he have to second guess any of it? He just got here. But, more importantly: Link doesn't feel that it's his place to question it anyway. Cyrus has offered him a way to save Hyrule. So, if he helps Springstar, it will shorten the time it takes to save it — or so they say. But even with that lingering doubt, what else is there for him to do? Link currently has no answer to that question. He has no interest in what Yima has to offer. He does not want a new world. He wants his world. His mountains and lakes, his forests, his beaches. The bears, the wild horses, and the fish in the rivers. Children playing on the hillsides, old women feeding their chickens. His friends. His princess.
These thoughts occupy his mind as his sword thunks into the scratched wood of the training dummy and stays there, the blade stuck. Frowning, he begins to pull on it to yank it free, when the crunch of a footstep cuts through his deep contemplation. As he turns to face the noise, the iliachtida dangling from neck swings slightly, glowing in the fading sunset twilight.
He doesn't recognize this person, but that's... pretty normal, for a guy who just got here. Considering where he is — the training grounds of a Meridian outpost, lined on one side with racks of both practice weapons and real weapons — he can only assume that this person is here to train. It does not occur to him that they may not even be a Meri in the first place. ]
Ⅳ. WILDCARD!
((The obligatory "or just tag him with your own prompt"! Pretty sure he'd be a Meridian, but not sure on the Aspect yet. You can poke me at