[Edited to fix my version of a buckle up, buttercup-- intro for clarity]
I've seen an upswing in people wishing for more analysis posts in LU alongside a drop in the amount being done. It's unclear if people are trying to give ground to "smarter, better people" or if they just think they're not capable of it themselves, so I thought I could write something to help with that.
This is aimed at everyone who was miserable, distracted, or failed by their teachers (or who may not even be finished High School), who needed a little more help than they got, or who just want a refresh on what goes into analysis.
This is broken into steps and pieces, and is roughly the same formula I use to compose a scene in the first place when I write, too!
As an overview, these are the points I'll be trying to cover:
What is the overt written or visual information on the page?
What are the interactions happening on the page?
What action or event is conveyed by this information?
What is implied by the information before you?
How does all of this connect to previous information?
(This post is specifically talking about Linked Universe, but the advice is meant to be generally applicable. You can apply this to any media you wish, fictional or not, comic or not, etc. While I cannot replace a proper English class, I wanted to at least try to give some kind of guidance on picking up the habit again.)
I also strongly recommend clicking to the main post, as I will be editing for clarity.
Linked Universe has one easier thing going for it: it's a comic, and an online one at that. So I can just pluck a page from the current update and drop it here for us to work on:
(PS. Good practice with this is CITATIONS. Online, that means a link back to where you got the original from! It lets people see what you're talking about and join in.)
So, let's start:
What is the OVERT written or visual information on this page?
(Overt means "done or shown openly, not secret or hidden" - so the obvious.)
What that means is, what do we see drawn, and what is written down?
- The background is a room with pillars in the dungeon: there's no really notable decoration at this point.
- Time, Wind, and Four are walking: there's no urgency to their movement.
- They're in their normal clothes: nobody is missing anything, damaged, injured, or holding something new or unusual.
- The three are speaking to each other, largely about the past more than the present.
2. What are the INTERACTIONS happening on this page?
Here we start to narrow down the obvious information into specific information:
- Time is looking at and touching a pillar: he is expressing specific interest in the environment around them in general, not just a specific flourish or moving part (the pillars are not emphasized anywhere else; they are not interactive or hostile at this moment.)
- Four speaks first to ask Time about his interaction with the pillar: he is expressing interest in what the other man is doing and seeking information.
- Four keeps asking questions: both "What's wrong?" and "Oh, Mrs Malon not let you?" are from him, to Time.
- Wind responds to Time's answers with shock, and also a statement that assumes what Time means: "You ran out of treasure?"
So we have:
- Time interacts with the environment
- Four is asking questions of Time
- Time answers Four's questions
- Wind reacts to Time's answers
3. What ACTIONS or EVENTS are conveyed by this information?
So, pulling the first layer of these things together, we have a scene in which:
- Time is the one studying the environment the most. He's smiling, and fairly relaxed.
- However, his attention to the pillar catches Four's interest and he asks him "What's wrong?" -- they are in a dungeon after all, and unusual attention to something could be important.
- Time answers he's reminiscing, thinking about the past, and Four asks if the reason he hasn't continued is his wife, which startles a laugh from Time who clearly never thought of Malon as an obstacle to his behaviour: simply that his life has changed.
- Wind is shocked by the implication that adventure can "run out" -- interpreting "There simply isn't much to be had anymore" as "No more treasure?!" based on his own experience among pirates.
So that's all the really obvious, surface level stuff! How do we go deeper?
4. What is IMPLIED by the information before you?
Implications are a bit wiggly. Here, we are leaving explicit language and images and entering into interpretation. Your interpretations will not necessarily match anyone else's, but -- as long as you keep your meaning grounded in the above, obvious details -- you can make an argument for your own meaning.
Let's dig into one piece of the above: eg. Four asks Time if "Mrs. Malon" is why he stopped adventuring.
(Why this piece? Because we cannot analyze everything at once. Focusing on a single interaction allows us to be more precise in our work and to write something that's readable in the space we have here.)
- This is in reaction to Time saying "It has been long since I tread ground like this." which clearly states that Time hasn't been in a dungeon in long enough he feels nostalgic about being in one now.
- The specific phrasing and pose Four is taking makes his statement a bit rude, and maybe arguably accusatory: "Oh, Mrs. Malon not let you?" with his hands on his hips and an eye-roll going on.
- The behaviour makes it feel to me like Four is being demeaning here: he's assuming a wife would get in the way of her husband's actions and order him around, without a care for whether Time might want to do it or not.
- Time responds to this with laughter: he's not offended, but also not agreeing with Four. The address amuses him (because we get it as an aside to his speech bubble) but he just refutes the point by giving a correction: "While it's true my life is much different now, there simply isn't much to be had anymore."
Does this mean that Four doesn't like Malon? That feels unlikely to me. It could be that Four is used to hearing other people talk about their wives like that. It could also mean that he can't imagine Time not wanting to adventure anymore.
How would you try to figure out if any of those positions is more or less likely?
By pulling back from only one page and bringing in more, related information:
5. How does this CONNECT to previous or subsequent information?
This gets much more complicated. The same principles above will have to be applied to each page or section you want to analyze in this way to support your argument. As you do so, you will collect the pieces you need to pull these things in.
We have seen Four interact with Malon in the past! How you read those interactions yourself will tell you what you can infer here. You can also look further into this update and see: where do they go next? Do they keep asking about Time's experience, or do they move on to the others?
A third option is to look at related media that are not part of the initial piece. For Linked Universe, what we have is the games that each of these characters originally come from. For every interaction between Time and Four, or Four and Wind, you can ask: what do these characters, by implication, bring with them from their original games?
This is why many people strongly suggest that readers interact with the games themselves, their wikis via sites like ZeldaDungeon.net, or walk-throughs. Doing this allows you to add more pieces to your work.
And every piece you add gives you more power to answer the question:
Okay, now what do I think of that?
I hope this helps you do so in the future! Check back on this post, as I may add a few more examples of me pulling apart different pages or updates as a means of helping y'all see what's going on when we analyze things!
If you want to see my other more formal analysis posts, they are here:
- Linked Universe Time has PTSD (One, Two, Three)
- The Twilight Princess Resistance
- Does LU Warriors have PTSD?
- Taxation in Hyrule
Also tysm to @i-am-beckyu for proofreading! I always forget to say that xD
Chapter 1
Chapter 8
Chapter 10
Word Count: 2,071
Warnings: None. Welcome to fluff town xD
It was night, Dream was asleep, and Tommy was determined to see what was under the man's mask. For the entire time Tommy had been with the human, he hadn’t seen his face, not even once. Dream never took his mask off around the teen, and whenever Tommy pestered him about it, Dream would either avoid the question or just give him dumb reasons, like; “I’m too handsome, I can’t show off too much,” and; “I got mauled by a bear once. Nobody wants to see that.” Tommy was pretty sure that Dream’s excuses were bullshit.
He wanted to know what the human’s face looked like. He was pretty sure that Dream was a human, and not a hybrid, because he had normal human ears and didn’t have any horns or anything obvious to give it away. With a smirk, Tommy had the thought that Dream might be a bunny hybrid. Then he frowned. That wouldn't fit in with the sheer size of the human. Maybe he was a donkey…? That would certainly explain the slight wheeze to Dream’s laughter whenever Tommy said something particularly hilarious.
Tommy had stayed awake until he was sure that the human was asleep, listening intently to the great whooshing lungfuls of air Dream took until they evened out to a slow, steady rhythm. When he was certain that Dream was dead to the world, Tommy crawled out of his makeshift bed and made his way to the entrance of Dream's satchel.
It had gotten too hot during the past few nights, the last of the fall heat resurging with a vengeance, so Dream had taken to leaving the flap of the satchel cracked open for the inchling. It had gotten to the point where Tommy didn’t particularly feel like running away, and Dream trusted him enough to not keep him totally captive all of the time.
Neither of them wanted another repeat of the cave spider incident, so Tommy stayed near Dream. If he really needed to, he could make a run for it when they made it to the city, but...after all that Dream had done to keep Tommy safe...he wasn’t as inclined to escape anymore. Even if...even if Dream had killed people.
Tommy pushed past the flap of the bag and beelined towards the dark monolith of the human’s sleeping figure. Dream was curled on his side, but he still towered over Tommy, the dark shadow of his shoulder almost ten times higher than the miniature teenager.
The human was turned towards the bag, one thick arm pillowed underneath his head and the other resting on the ground in front of his masked face. He had removed his cloak for once, having spread it out over the mulchy ground to sleep on for the night. His mask glittered in the moonlight filtering in from the canopy, a stark white compared to the murky greys and blacks of the night forest.
Tommy sidled closer, slipping carefully underneath the gap between the human's arm and chest. He paused for one long moment, grimacing at the heat he could feel radiating from the human’s skin, but pushing past it to listen closely to Dream's breathing. Deeming it safe, Tommy began inching along the small space until he reached the small gap between the human's huge hand and stubbled chin.
Now was the moment of truth. Tommy let loose a wicked grin as he reached for Dream's mask, chest fluttering with excitement. Finally, he would see what Dream's face looked like!
Just as he set his hands on the edge of the white porcelain, there was an abrupt rush of movement, and something huge wrapped around his whole body, sweeping him off of his feet and jerking him high into the air.
“Prime, fuck!” He yelped, body attempting to lunge out of the way, but it was too late, and he was trapped. His chest began to stagger, lungs stuttering for air as he realized that it was a colossal hand that was wrapped around his body, fingers way bigger than he could ever hope to be firmly squeezing around his limbs.
Tommy couldn’t help how his heart began to frantically pound behind his ribs, shoulders creeping up to his ears as he squeezed his eyes shut against the creeping terror that snagged the back of his neck. Shit, this was a bad idea, What was he thinking? What if Dream got mad that Tommy had woken him up? He’d…he wouldn’t hurt Tommy over it, right?
What if the human was too tired to be careful with Tommy?
The fist rose into the air, and Tommy’s eyes snapped open at the muddled groan that warbled out of the human’s broad chest. Pale shoulders shone silver in the moonlight as the colossus pushed himself upright, one knee curling upwards as he hunched over the smaller blond.
Tommy fought back the shiver that crawled up his spine, wriggling fruitlessly against the rough, calloused fingers wrapped around his body. He could feel the pattern of the fingerprints pressing into his limbs, almost like sandpaper against his skin.
A low, indiscernible mumble had his breath stuttering, and Tommy snapped his gaze upwards, past the dark chest in front of his face to the bright, silvery mask looming over him like a hanging moon.
"Tommy," Dream groaned, glancing up at the dark, starry sky past the canopy and then back down at the tiny teenager. "What are you doing?" His dirty blond hair was a dark grey in the shadows of the night, but his mask glinted brightly, contrasting heavily with the muted colors of grey and silver and black the moon created.
“You weren’t trying to escape again, were you? I thought we were past that.” Dream’s voice was thick and gruff from sleep, but there was still a gentle underlying tone that made Tommy’s shoulders relax. This was Dream. Tommy could trust him. Dream…probably wasn't mad, and he definitely wasn't going to hurt Tommy if he actually was.
Tommy forced a scoff and attempted to pull his right arm free from the warm prison of the fist. “No! I was trying to look at your face!” He could barely even twitch his fingers, much less move his whole arm. He was hopelessly trapped, until Dream decided to let him go.
Tommy choked back an odd lump growing in the back of his throat and tried not to panic. This was a situation that he had put himself in, after all.
The human adjusted his grip suddenly, fingers peeling away from Tommy's body and hand tilting until the palm was a platform that the inching could stagger to his feet on. Relief washed away the budding panic, and Tommy huffed out a shaking breath as he regained his balance.
Dream seemed to squint at him for a long, long moment before a low, long yawn escaped from behind his mask. “You don't need to see my face. I'm too ugly,” he drowsed, reaching up with his other hand to blearily bump it against his mask. He flinched, pulling his hand back and tilting his head at it accusingly.
Had...did Dream forget that he had the mask on? That was hilarious. Tommy forced back an amused smirk and strode forward over the bare palm instead, cocking his hip and pointing an accusing finger up at the bright mask.
"You don't have a face, huh? Is that it? It's gotta be!" He exclaimed, waving emphatically at the huge disk. “I bet that’s why you wear it. Because you’ve got like, no nose or something!”
"It's to protect my identity, you doof," Dream huffed, exasperated. "Nobody's ever seen my face."
"Not even your mother?" The teen shot back. Dream sucked in a breath to reply, but before he could say anything, Tommy pushed on. "Are you just that butt-ugly, then? Not even your mum wanted to look at you?"
That drew out a startled laugh from the human, a laugh that quickly devolved into a long, strangled series of wheezes. Tommy leaned back on his heels, slightly concerned. He’d never heard Dream make a sound like that.
"Are you–are you fucking dying?" Tommy accused, brows furrowing as he hesitantly stepped closer. “That doesen’t sound fucking normal, man!”
Dream just wheezed harder, curling up over his lap as he struggled to force out words. He drew the hand holding Tommy closer to his chest, large fingers curling in around the teen as he struggled to breathe past the air squeezing out of his lungs.
"You—haaaaa—no?” Dream’s voice pitched up so high that Tommy almost couldn’t hear it, and a wide grin spread over the borrower’s face when he finally realized what was going on. Dream was laughing.
“You sound like—like a goddamn teakettle!” Tommy finally cackled, and then he couldn’t help it. An explosive sound, almost like a cough, ripped out of his throat, and then he was doubling over, overcome with barking laughter.
“You—” Dream squeaked out, planting his free hand over the face of his mask. “You sound like an asthmatic duck.” And Tommy lost it, nearly keeling over from the explosive giggles rattling out of his small frame. Dream almost seemed to compose himself, but then a small snicker escaped from his lips, and it was all over.
It was almost compounded. Tommy would start to catch his breath, but then he would hear a particularly high whistle from Dream and lose it all over again. Tommy was on his knees in Dream’s palm, guffawing roughly enough to send Dream back over the edge of hysteria.
“We sound—ridiculous,” Dream finally managed to gasp, massive chest heaving as it struggled to draw in enough air to compensate for everything he’d just choked out.
“You sound like a fuckin’ donkey, man,” Tommy coughed, pounding a hand against his chest to try and clear his throat. There were tears in the corners of his eyes, and he felt nearly breathless, but in a good way. He hadn’t had a laugh like that in a long time.
“I’ll have you know, my Ma likes the way I laugh, thank you very much,” Dream mumbled, but the grin was still evident in his voice. He glanced up at the sky again, audibly yawning, and looked back down at Tommy.
“What time is it, even?” Dream muttered, turning in place ever-so-slightly. He reached down to his cloak and poked around a pocket for a minute before he pulled out a coin-sized golden disk on a chain and squinted at it. There was a dark half-circle taking up half of the front surface of the disk, and a tiny white dot decorated the right quarter section of the dark half.
Dream groaned and all but rolled backwards onto his makeshift bed like the world's gentlest landslide, hand underneath Tommy steady despite his uncoordinated movements. His hand dropped down suddenly, and the palm tilted, forcing Tommy to slide off of his palm and onto the human’s expansive chest.
Tommy lunged for the human’s face the moment his feet hit solid ground, intent on tackling his mask, but a broad, heavy palm dropped over his back and flattened him against the warm cotton stretched over the human’s chest.
“Go to sleep, Tommy,” Dream yawned, bringing his left hand to cover the seam between his mask and chin. “It's way too early to be awake…”
His free hand moved down to join the one pressed over Tommy, reaching around to cradle the back of the right hand and create a dark cave against his chest. The palm pinning the teen rose up, freeing him, but before he could make another attempt for Dream's mask, a thumb bigger than he was slid around to block his way out of the shelter Dream's hands made.
With his way out blocked so efficiently, Tommy grumbled and sprawled out onto his back. Even though it was dark, he could feel the presence of the palms hanging above his head, and could feel the warmth radiating from the skin underneath his back. Each breath Dream took rocked Tommy's body in a steady one, two, three out, one, two, three in, and he couldn't help the way his eyelids drooped.
Despite the last-minute fall heat, the warmth generated by Dreams’s body heat wasn't unbearable. In fact, it was rather soothing, lulling Tommy down into the deep dredges of sleep.
I'm glad to finally have this out lmao. This chapter has been fighting me for literal years o~0
Chapter 1
Chapter 7
Chapter 9
Word Count: 2,208
Warnings: Mention of decapitation, murder but it's not explicit. Stereotypical violence.
Tommy froze when a disheveled, familiar human burst out in front of them from the brush lining the edge of the game trail they had been following for the past few hours. His jaw dropped in horror, and a quiet whimper of fear wormed its way from his throat. Awful memories bubbled up from the depths of his mind, of viciously sharp threats and violently shaken cages, and he found his body instinctively flattening against the curve of Dream's neck.
His hands fumbled for the hilt of the sword that Dream had given him a few days ago, but they were trembling too much to get a proper grasp on the leather-wrapped handle. His breath shortened considerably, and it felt like all he could see was the human’s massive face, cruel grin and bright eyes drawing in Tommy’s vision like an inescapable whirlpool.
The man blocking their path had been the cruelest of Tommy's original kidnappers, often going out of his way to torment the miniature teenager, be it by violently shaking and slamming the cage Tommy had been trapped in, or by telling the inchling tales about what would happen to him after he was finally sold. The man had even threatened to rip one of Tommy’s arms off after the teen had mouthed off at the human, even going so far as to snag the blond's right arm through the bars of the cage before one of the others had stopped him.
His reasoning had been that Tommy wouldn't need all of his limbs, not when he'd most likely be ground up and used to make a potion.
“D-Dream,” he choked out, fingers abandoning his sword to tangle between the threads of the blond's turtleneck. His hands were shaking so badly that he almost couldn't get a grip on the fabric, and his knees suddenly felt weak and unsteady. He gasped, attempting to force his breath to catch in a regular rhythm, but it was as if fingers were cinched around his chest, crushing and squeezing and he. Couldn’t. Breathe.
“I’m going to present your skull to the President myself,” the man hissed out harshly, viciously, eyes wide and furious as he glared at Dream. His gaze passed over Tommy, unable to see him under the shadow of the hood, which Tommy was immensely thankful for. His ears had begun to ring, a shrill, piercing note that drowned out the sounds around him as his chest heaved, chasing after air that wouldn't fill his lungs.
The shoulder underneath his feet stiffened as Dream stilled, massive hand drifting down to the sword slung at his hip. The human’s entire body grew tense, and Tommy could feel Dream’s posture shift as he clung to the blond’s neck.
His previous captor pulled a wickedly sharp double-headed axe from a loop on his belt, and then he lunged, rearing his arm back to plant the axe into Dream’s chest. Tommy couldn’t help the tiny scream that ekked through his lips as the razor-sharp blades flashed towards them, and he very nearly stumbled backwards off of Dream's shoulder.
A colossal hand appeared in front of Tommy, and before the teen could react, massive fingers were curling around his waist and plucking him away from his perch. Tommy yelped in surprise, scrambling to grab onto the side of one huge finger as the hand moved downward, sliding neatly underneath the collar of Dream’s green cloak and dragging the small teen with it.
Tommy’s world was enveloped with a dark green hue as he was unceremoniously dropped into what felt like a massive hammock. The hand disappeared, and then everything around him moved. Tommy was left scrambling for balance, pressing his hands and knees against what felt like padded walls as the world lurched sideways. He heard the sound of the other human shouting, but he couldn’t make out the words over the rhythmic pounding of Dream’s chest.
“Fat chance,” he heard Dream snarl, and then an ear-piercing clang rang out, loud even through the fabric of Dream’s cloak. The miniature blond winced, hands flying away from the soft walls to clap over his ears. He sank down to curl in the curve of the fabric below him, body tense as the ringing in his ears subsided.
Despite the sounds of the surely vicious fight outside, and the fact that Tommy was in the pocket of a human as he jolted and twisted, he felt…surprisingly stable, for how tumultuous the outside world was. Whatever he was in was secure enough to keep him stable as the two humans clashed in a colossal battle. Between the soft, padded walls on either side of his body and the huge, heavy ba-bump of Dream's heartbeat, Tommy felt shockingly comfortable.
Is this…an armored pocket? Tommy rapped lightly against the wall of what seemed to be padded metal pressing at his side. It seemed to be shaped to the pocket, and the edges curled in to form a sort of concave shield against the broad chest beside him.
The walls were pressed in close, but it wasn’t so much that it made Tommy feel like he was being restrained. The armored wall had give when he pushed against it, and he had enough room to stand up if he wanted. It was a little too dark for his liking, and the air was stuffy enough to make his breath hitch, but otherwise? Tommy didn’t feel the overwhelming need to escape before he got trapped forever.
There was a wet, slick sound outside, and then a heavy thud, before everything went quiet. The heaving of the massive chest beside him slowed its pace, and Tommy ventured a hesitant, “Dream?”
Fabric rustled, and something tapped on the outside of the pocket, once, twice, then Dream’s voice rumbled out, low and breathless. “You okay?” He panted. Despite the fact that the human’s voice was dropped down to a shaky whisper, it still rumbled through the small space Tommy was in, nearly shaking him in place through the sheer strength of it. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to explain. You’re safe in there.”
Tommy huffed a slow breath as he worked to get control of his shaking hands. Seeing that human…it brought back all sorts of ugly memories, ones that Tommy would much rather forget. He didn’t want to think about his kidnappers. He didn’t want to think of the long sleepless nights, of the dry, painful rasp of his throat, of the twisting, snarling hunger that clawed gouges through his torso nearly the whole duration of his captivity.
He didn’t want to think of how callously the humans spoke of killing him, as if his life wasn’t worth any more than the sticks they used to light their fires.
“What the hell, Dream?” Tommy snapped in lieu of an answer, kicking angrily at the dark green wall against Dream’s chest. It barely even budged, and that made Tommy feel even more angry and indignant. “I thought you said they were all gone!”
He felt the fabric around him tilt upwards, and he could only surmise that Dream had shrugged. An apologetic hum rumbled from the wall beside him, and the fabric shifted again, spilling light down from way over Tommy’s head. “That one...got away. Sorry.”
A wall of dark leather blocked out the light as a cluster of fingers descended into the pocket, nearly taking up the entirety of the space. Tommy scrambled to his feet, backing away from the pillaresque digits as they came to a stop directly in front of him, curling slightly at the tips.
“Hop on?” Dream’s voice asked, and Tommy debated for half a second before climbing onto the concave slope the fingers made. He was eager to get out of the pocket, an ever present, niggling fear in the back of his mind telling him that he was going to get trapped and taken away screaming- again.
"What the fuck’s up with the pocket?" Tommy yowled, fingers latching onto small creases in the ridges of Dream’s glove as the colossal hand began to rise. The borrower re-adjusted his footing over the tips of Dream’s crooked fingers, eyes darting nervously down as he emerged into the light and saw the distant tops of the human’s boots.
"Well, I gotta keep you little guys safe somehow, don't I?" Dream chuckled, halting his hand’s ascent near his right shoulder and gradually leveling it out until it was platformed. Tommy wobbled slightly as he regained his balance, flaring his arms out as he gingerly stepped over the pliable palm. “I can’t fight with you on my shoulder, and you might get squished in a regular pocket. This way, I know that you’ll be safe.”
Tommy supposed that did make sense, but...that didn’t mean that he had to like it. A small scowl crossed his face as something occurred to him while he made the wide step onto Dream’s shoulder. This was the second person that he’d seen Dream kill, not counting the men that had originally taken Tommy. What kind of man was the blond, that he could kill someone without batting an eye?
“Why do people keep attacking you?” He asked, sidling over to lean against the human’s neck. Tommy’s heart was still pounding, and his hands still faintly trembled. He shot them a disapproving glare and tucked them against his chest, biting his lip.
“It’s…part of the reason I’m taking so long to get to Manberg. I’m a very popular guy, and there are a lot of people who would love to get their hands on me.”
“Oh. why?”
“Don’t worry about it, okay?” Dream’s head tilted just enough that the edge of his mask glinted in the sunlight, and the tone of his voice flatlined. It wasn’t by much, but it was enough that Tommy noticed. He swallowed gingerly, taking the hint for what it was, and backed off.
“What happened to the—the other guy?” Tommy asked abruptly, tugging his eyes away from the human’s jawline and instead turned to look out at the path far below him. He faltered, then, not even hearing Dream’s voice as his gaze latched onto the answer to his question.
“W-where's his head?!” Tommy all but screamed, the shock finally catching up enough to send him staggering backwards, nearly over the back of the human’s shoulder. He yelped again, lunging to grab the black turtleneck, and pulled himself back upright. He caught sight of the body again, and he slammed his eyes shut, biting back a whimper and sliding down into a more stable crouch against Dream’s neck.
If Dream could do that to a fully grown, fully trained human, then what could he do to Tommy? It was an unrealistic thought, Tommy knew, because Dream had proven that he wouldn't hurt the teen, but it was one that kept intruding on Tommy’s mind.
“Over there,” Dream intoned, and Tommy felt a massive sense of vertigo as the blond seemed to crouch.
There was a rustling sound, and then; “I don't know how they keep making these things, but it sure is annoying,” Dream murmured. Dream’s voice reverberated through the side of his neck, and, despite himself, Tommy’s curiosity won out over his fear. Cautiously, he cracked an eye open, carefully keeping his line-of-sight high above the ground.
The bright glint of glass shined, and Tommy opened his other eye to look more closely at what Dream held in his gloved hands.
“A compass?” Tommy asked weakly, leaning forward against Dream’s neck. He strictly kept his gaze on the shining, silvery disk, horribly aware of the headless corpse more than a dozen inches below his view.
“A tracking compass,” Dream explained. He brought it closer to his shoulder, tilting it so that Tommy could see the needle through the glass face. “They’re enchanted to point at specific things, like places, items—or people you want to find.” He twisted it, and Tommy watched as the red half of the needle stayed doggedly pointed at the human’s chest, no matter how he turned it.
“Is that...another thing I’m not supposed to worry about, Dream?” Tommy hesitantly asked, flicking his gaze up at the human’s stubbled jawline. Dream made an indiscernible humming sound and leaned forward, lifting something else from the body.
“This is a nice axe,” he murmured, avoiding the question and reaching out to brush a fingertip against one of the blades. The axe was double-headed, and the haft looked to be about as long as Dream’s arm. He twirled it experimentally, humming in satisfaction at the weight, then moved to hook it to his belt. Tommy kept his grip tight on the fibers of the turtleneck, eyes following the silvery axe head as it sliced through the air.
“Alright,” Dream groaned, clapping his hands on his knees straightening up to his full height. “I think it’s time we got a move on. At the rate we’re going...we should get to Manberg in the next day or so.”
“Okay.” Tommy agreed, gingerly lowering himself down to sit on the human’s shoulder. He slung his legs over the huge, nearly ledge-esque collarbone, and tried not to think about the decapitated corpse behind them.
So what's the LU de-aging fic and have I heard of it before? :)
YOU certainly have, IDK if anyone's popped it into the WIP game or not. It's exactly what it sounds like, me trying to write a fic in which various members of the Chain get de-aged which is fun to play with with my headcanons.
What I decided on was "Everyone reverted ten years who isn't protected by a sword of power" so that looks like
Sky, Legend, and Four are safe
Warriors and Time are adults or near-adults, but both are very confused where the war went (Warriors is 15, early War of Eras, Time is 25 and mid-OoT Civil War)
Twilight and Hyrule are older kids (12-13 and 9 respectively), which would be less of a problem if Hyrule hadn't been in a major famine at that age...
Wind is almost four, which means he is a little fucking terror who needs babysat, by the two older kids who have very strong opposing opinions about how to keep little kids safe.
Wild got wiped to "Fresh out of the Soup blank," so he has no idea where he is, who they are, what he's doing, and is having to *relearn how to use his Slate*.... He can walk, talk and fight fine, buuut not that. Which is where their food is.
Wind keeps asking about food. Hyrule is Very Concerned someone will decide the child is food. Twilight isn't convinced *Hyrule* doesn't think Wind is food.
Time keeps asking *Warriors* if he knows what's going on, because HE remembers the War of Eras. He has not told anyone ELSE he was in the War of Eras before now.
Sky, Legend, and Four really wish they weren't in charge of this now.
Since this is going around Discord chats, because weirdly everyone loves my Dead Dog series, I'll share it here even though I haven't written to the point of even meeting the "new" Twilight yet.
A brief TL;DR, Twilight turns out to be a serial killer who was abusing Wild still having Mipha's Grace for fun (Mipha's Grace & the Wolf.) Time finds out and kills him (Time is a Mere Convenience) and the magic that brought the Chain together seeks to fill the gap left behind, which brings them to a new Twilight who is in dire need (If Only.)
This would be happening after they return to the flooded forest of Time is a Mere Convenience, because the Shadow's still there...
...and he found a very useful, very bitter ally while they were gone.
