Silent Hero, Chapter 8

 

It’s been a while, huh? Still, for me, it’s not long enough. Anyway, I read up on the previous entries and had a good chuckle. You all found my entries funny, right? I did too. And then I realized that someone had to have read the work they were based off of. And that that someone was me. And then all the repressed memories came flooding back.

…I’m really hesitant to start this again. Just give me a second.

Okay, screw it, let’s go.

Chapter 8, I believe. The chapter entitled “The House of Many Links.”

This is a terrible pun and I feel ashamed for making it.

I’m…not looking forward to this.

Okay. Let’s go. Deep breath, Andy. They head to Termina’s southern borders again. Termina is apparently a little dollhouse of a land compared to Hyrule (author’s metaphor), as it’s quite tiny. But so very apparently important to the story. I mean, we’re a third of the way through. Can’t we just leave Termina already?

Midna and Link roam around, listening for music (it’s been a while, but I think I recall them saying earlier that the not-quite-first Link’s spirit often played music after a hard mortal life’s work of boinking fishwomen). They eventually see his spirit and follow him.

Now, at this point, the author uses a pied piper metaphor. This is something that’s always bugged me to no end. I hate it when people describe things using terms, idioms, or references that don’t exist within a certain world. See, if a character in a Zelda fic were described to be “dumb as an ox,” I wouldn’t pay it too much mind. Cows exist in the Zelda universe, so why shouldn’t Oxen? In any sort of fiction with anthropomorphic animals, it’d gain added effect, as it implies that anthropomorphic oxen are often regarded as stupid. But if you’re writing a story in an alternate universe where bovine are nonexistent, do not use a metaphor relating to them. Similarly, do not reference stories in our universe in stories set in other universes. It just kills immersion.

“It’s like we’re Bill Murray from the movie Groundhog Day, forced to relive the same sequence of events over and over,” Tatl said to Link as he rewound time.  “What the hell’s a movie?” Link asked.

Anyway. They follow Link’s spirit to some sort of cave, which is pitch dark. Link guides Midna by the hand, because she’s evidently a complete incapable klutz and Link needs to hold her hand to keep her from tripping. And it’s a good thing he does, because she almost falls down a chasm. A chasm that’s apparently invisible until you almost fall in it. That’s the only real explanation, other than Midna and Link watching the sky in the pitch-black cave instead of the fucking floor like they should have been.

Also, there are torches giving off a faint light. The thing that always bugs me about things like this: how do the torches stay lit? Are they magic torches? Does Link’s spirit need to leave a light on so that he doesn’t get scared?

So there’s a ledge on the other side, and they need to get to it. The answer has to do with the Deku Mask from Majora’s Mask, which is hanging between two torches. Link hookshots it over, then puts it on to transform into a Deku, which Midna responds to with “Awe, aren’t you adorable?” Yes, that’s how she spelled “Aw.”

Anyway, kids, can you guess what happens next? What’s that? *gasp* That’s right! There is a sequence where the author just describes something similar to the game, in which game mechanics are described in the “legends of old.” Yes, the story starts to read like a walkthrough for Majora’s Mask, complete with flower gliders appearing our of Link’s hammerspace. I cannot stress enough how painful it is to read game mechanics being forced into something that isn’t a game. Because the next thing Link does is step on a switch that triggers a bridge falling from above, landing in place. Now, in video games, we expect things like that to work. But in literature, things are tied much more closely to logic. How’s the bridge land perfectly? Why doesn’t it shatter on impact? Why doesn’t the shockwave knock Link or Midna over the edge of the abyss, and how does the rock not shatter under the impact, destroying the foundations and tipping the bridge into the chasm anyway? Think, author! These are important questions.

So Link decides that it’s time to stop pretending to be Pinocchio, so he attempts to take the mask off. But then he finds out he can’t. Not, at least, until he puts on the next mask they discover, the Goron mask. He goes through the Majora’s Mask walkthrough segment again, the bridge drops, lather, wash, rinse, repeat. There’s a brief interlude when Link puts on Zora mask where they flash back to the story of Mikau (i.e. Link the Fishfucker) and Lulu and why would you make me remember that? Fortunately, it’s only a brief mention, and Link once again comes across a Zora puzzle lifted directly from Majora’s Mask.

Midna worries that she won’t be able to survive the journey under the water (since she doesn’t have the abilities of a Zora), and Link decides that the best way to deal with this is to grab her without warning and plunge under the water with her. Because warning her would be too easy. But it’s okay, because if he screws up, the game mechanics will save him and they’ll be brought back to the room where they can catch their breath again!

Link is able to control his path by making himself more streamlined (completely ignoring the fact that the fact that he’s carrying Midna should negate this) and manages to make it through the water tunnels. On to the next room. This one is a giant abyss that requires the Giant’s Mask. This one he’s actually able to take off. So we’re done with this, right?

Nope! Link still hasn’t put on the Postman’s Hat or the All-Nighter Mask or I’m just kidding it’s just the Fierce Deity Mask. Link puts it on and another Link drops down to have a friendly battle with him for a bit. The other Link throws some sort of flashbomb that reverts them both to their natural forms. Turns out that the whole thing was an illusion that Spirit Link (for some reason, he’s not referred to as the Many-Link anymore) created as a test which means that no, the masks probably won’t play a part again and no, they probably weren’t in any real danger in the first place. Don’t you just live anti-climaxes? They find themselves chilling at Spirit Link’s house, Link and Midna are honored to meet Spirit Link, and Spirit Link is honored to meet his successor and said successor’s princess.

You know, you could at least try to be subtle about your shipping.

Since Link lives in Hyrule, technically Zelda would be his princess, regardless of romantic interest.  I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t feel any romantic obligation to his king.

But on to the point of the visit. Spirit Link pulls out the Ocarina of Time, Link pulls out his Ocarina, Midna pulls out her flute, and they learn the song. And then Spirit Link passes on his piece of Sierpinski’s Triforce to Link.

With that, Spirit Link realizes that the time allotted his Cameo is up, and he provides a warp crystal to take Link and Midna back to Hyrule, stating that he must return to his place among the Zorita, asking Link as he strokes the Zora mask if he thinks they have room for a bass guitar player in their new band. Maybe I’m forgetting something here, but when did they say that Spirit Zora Link chilled with the Zorita, or even that the Zorita were forming a band? I’ll have to remember to never reread this to find out.  Not too hard, since I don’t really care anyway.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!  We are Many-Link and the Fishfuckers, and we are here to rock your world!

As Link and Midna do the locationwarp again, Link catches a glimps of Spirit Zora Link already jamming on his skeleton guitar. I still don’t exactly get the logistics of a dead guy hanging with a hybrid race as a member of a different extinct race to start a band with them.

As the chapter ends, they find themselves back in Hyrule—but not for long! Because they’re planning to check out the Twilight Realm now! They prance into the Mirror of Twilight hand-in-hand. Fade to black.

Stay tuned for the next chapter, “A Link to Twilight,” our last chapter before we begin Part 2!

FangQuest, Chapter 3

 

As we begin chapter 3, in which not much happens, a bunch of people bring back a crapload of food that was evidently able to grow solely on firelight and garden fog. Then there’s a paragraph of food porn. Then, probably because a squirrel shouldn’t exactly be able to wield a battle-ax, Jacques makes a dirk out of obsidian. This really has nothing to do with what’s coming up.

After Marina and Barkfur discuss what’s obvious to the audience and should be obvious to them (i.e., the Powerstones have special powers), they eat. Then, Mibs flies around and looks for an exit. We are assured that, even though he talks not goodly, he is actually quite intelligent. Um…okay? Good to know? After he returns, he tells them where they’ll leave, complete with a completely new accent. This one looks to be either Southern or Scottish.

They go through Mibs’s tunnel and find another cavern. This one is a bit smaller than the last one, but it’s prettier. It’s decked out in white marble and carvings, with columns that resemble Greek or Roman architecture. Did we mention that Greece and Rome existed in this alternate universe? It’s true. A particularly dark chapter of history is that of the Dog-emperor Nero, and how he would feed lions to the Christians.

Also, there’s a huge-ass mosaic on the floor of Blackfang. Oh, wait, he’s just Fang, Blackfang’s ancestor. Just Blackfang’s. Not his siblings’.

You may, at this point, be wondering why I’ve started color coding the names according to the Powerstones.  Well, it’s because each character has so little personality that I doubt you’ll be able to tell them apart.  In fact, the Powerstone they have is probably the closest each of them comes to having any sort of identity.  So it’s for your sake!

Anyway, while they’re all admiring this out-of-place architecture, Jacques heads around the corner, and this stag comes out. Does it walk on two legs or four? Again, dunno. But at least we know his rack is polished.  It “was polished until it was as white as a gentle cloud.” Some awkward wording in this sentence, but the more I think about the metaphor, the more I like it. It’s creative, original, and works. Good job, author! I salute you for that one.

And I flinch at the next sentence: “Maxus?” Jacques said looking as if he had seen a ghost.

Great job, author. Way to blow a creative, original metaphor with a lame, boring, cliché one.

Coming up next time: a hint of perspective, the most dickish reunion ever, and a trial by fire.

Andy

Published in: on March 2, 2011 at 11:42 pm  Leave a Comment  
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