towerofanimus | Is This Home?

Luckily enough, Link is not the type to merely give in. She searched the Tower along with many others, and it was England upon whom she came first.

Or rather, his home, being drowned along with him. Admittedly, it took her some time to reach him, of which she is deeply sorry, but when she does, she grabs him, lifting him towards a nearby aclove of reckage. Not yet flooded, there is a collapsed piece of roofing over them which for now should at least shelter them from the awful, thunderous rain.

She is reminded of Ganondorf and the terror he would spread. Of how he would kill in ways like this. But she would not give in, and she would not leave Arthur here to drown. Once she is sure he is safe, she checks him instinctively, to see if he is breathing or if he needs CPR. Her voice is quiet, and very concerned.

"Arthur. Arthur? Can you hear me? I'm going to put a piece of clothing on you now if you don't respond."

Never in her life had she been so glad she'd taken to carrying the Tunic that allows one to breathe underwater with her, or that she'd taken the time to earn those scales to become the best possible diver and swimmer that she could be.

His body is limp and pale in her arms, unmoving in her grasp even when she pulls him out of the water. It's hard to tell in the chaos that is swimming with another person through a flood in a storm, but once he's laid out under the alcove, it's easy to see that he's not breathing -- there's too much water still in his respiratory system to hope for that much.

Accordingly, he doesn't respond to Link's prompting or warning. Rest assured, though, he won't care about being dressed in something weird if it actually manages to wake him up.

She checks for the sign of a beating heart from him. Luckily, thanks to the nature of Hylian hearing, she can hear quite clearly there is a problem. He is not breathing. She quietly undresses him and slips the Zora tunic over his head, which then proceeds to adjust itself magically to the size that would be most comfortable for Arthur.

Concerned, however, she begins the process of pumping water from him and does, in fact, also give him CPR. It is not uncommon in her world, and instinct tells her he will need air to clear the water, even if the tunic should easily allow him to breathe water now. After some attempting, she is soaked herself, but takes her bottle with the fairy inside it out of her things. If Arthur did not breathe, she would use it to bring him back to consciousness and full health.

"Arthur?" She asked, once more, hoping against the odds he would reply. If there was any faint chance his lungs were not so flooded that he is too far gone to save, then he should come back to her. She prays silently, to the Goddesses, hoping against hope that the tunic--which should make breathing water just like breathing air for him one and the same--would work.

Her words, if he should hear them while she prays, are quiet. "Please, Din, give him the strength to endure this trial..."

Link's prayers, thankfully, seem as if they'll be answered. The magic slowly helps his lungs adjust to begin filtering the water -- between that and the CPR helping to clear his system, he gradually feels himself coming back to awareness, which is a weird sensation in and of itself after blacking out so thoroughly that he was fairly sure his last thoughts were going to be 'I'm going to die'.

It's so fuzzy at first that he wonders if he made it into some kind of afterlife (hah, and wouldn't that be a kick in the teeth; none of the other nations besides Norway had the sight, so it'd be as good as him being gone anyways). His eyelids flutter briefly, but they don't open until the overwhelming sound of the downpour finally impinges on England's half-conscious state.

He bolts up with a gasp, hands flying to his chest in the reflex to claw the water out again. His eyes are widened with panic, because he can still feel it in his lungs, even though he can breathe it now. Despite Link's best efforts, she couldn't beat England's intimate ties with his own geography; the rain would continue to fill him until they got out. He'll be fine with the tunic on, though. Provided he doesn't panic himself into a coma anyways.

Relief floods her expression when the other wakes up, but she knows this must be unnatural for him. That they're not out of the woods yet, so to speak. She quietly supports him with her arm, so that he can breathe a bit more properly. If Arthur is panicked, then someone has to be calm to help.

Luckily, Link deals well under pressure, and she quietly looks him in the eyes.

"Please, relax. You're going to be all right, you're not drowning. If you need to cough, please do so, but don't panic."

Her voice is slow and steady, calm, and caring. She won't let him bear this alone, not if she can help him. She doesn't know what's wrong with this world, or what's going on, or even if it is real. But she DOES know that one very important detail is that he has to remain calm, or they won't get through this.

It seems like he didn't even notice Link's presence until she touches him, at which point he tenses and very nearly wrenches himself out of her grasp, still gasping air like those would be the last breaths he'd ever take. It takes him a moment to compose himself and actually see Link; despite making eye contact with her, he had basically been staring straight through her, not at her.

"--Link," he eventually manages, his vice grip on the front of the tunic slackening a little. He looks down at himself, and then around (which he regrets almost immediately, if the shudder that wracks his body at the sight is any indication). "I-- s-sorry." He suddenly feels very uncomfortable. England is used to being the pillar of support, not the one that needs supporting (moments of heavy inebriation aside).

"How..." The nation takes a deep, shaky breath to pull himself into a position where he can better sit up on his own. He trembles at the effort, still freezing and still feeling the damned flood inside his respiratory system, but it's not enough to keep him from speaking with as much dignity as he can. "How did you find me?"

She can tell that England is trying to put on a front, but she holds on to him until he pulls away, despite his initial attempt at wriggling out of her grasp. She is calm, even if she is concerned, because someone needs to be. If nothing else, she could not leave him here. She didn't really even care about how soaked she was, at this point. She is simply glad he's alive.

When he says her name, she gives him a nod. Yes, it's her. "I searched the Tower. A door appeared asking us to rescue you. This world..."

Quietly, she looks down, shaking her head. So much rain... was this what England's world was like? It didn't sound like it.

"There must be a way out, if there is one in. But... rest, for now. It will take some time to get the water out of your system."

Rescue them? So others were facing similar nightmares in their worlds? England almost scoffed. He's amazed that anyone thought to rescue him, frankly. It's only after the thought occurs that England wonders, with some disturbance, if that kind of thinking is what has kept any of his own kind from rescuing him.

That said, he's so grateful to Link that he doesn't know how to begin to articulate it. He'll possibly have words after they get out of this place -- wherever it is, because there's no way that it's actually London, even if he can feel the connection with all his people as if he were really home. Her words strike a chord that makes him cringe outwardly. Right, to Link, he was just a human. If Link's world even had humans.

It's not something he wants to think about, but he has to explain it to Link. "Resting won't make any difference for my health," he starts. "My body will continue to drown as this place sinks further." Or, it would, if he wasn't actively breathing the water that felt like it was appearing out of nowhere. He grimaces. Clearly, England doesn't want to explain at a time like this, but while he's not rapidly dying and they're still clueless about an exit...

"This is the capital of England," states the kingdom, and then, for good measure, "My country." He chances another look out towards the city. It looks like something out of one of America's dreadful apocalypse movies. "I have a...connection with the country. I am the country." He pauses. His facial expression is almost sheepish, because he's aware of how crazy that sounds; that's why he introduces himself as Arthur, even though he feels a stronger connection to the name England than any human name that could be given to him.

The sheepish expression turns into a frown. "...It isn't normally like this," adds the former empire as an afterthought.

Link is not sheepish in the least towards him. In fact... she feels almost as though the revealing of one secret deserves another, but in due time. And, to be frank, she is rather concerned that he may find out her gender due to how close they are in proximity, but there was just no time to worry about it. She takes his words in, not at all bothered. No, the expression on her face of worry is more of what he has said: that the only way to help him will be to get him out.

She gives him a very serious look.

"Then you're a deity of that land... you are no different than many I know. I am certain there are still more people who need our help, however," she says, looking down at her things. The Hookshot... yes, perhaps she could use it to get them to safety. After a small pause, she looks at Arthur, giving him a determined, courageous, unyielding look. That would have to be their back up in the event that Farore's Wind failed her.

"The tunic I gave you will keep you from drowning, in that case, but we cannot afford to waste time here. I'm going to have to carry you the best way I know... and... I will speak to you... properly... when you are safe, and everyone else is back."

She pauses, looking a bit more sheepish--was this a good idea? But Arthur had trusted her. She, too, must trust him, and will be kind enough to hear what he has to say. At the very least, she could explain her heavy destiny to him, perhaps?

"I can use magic to get us out of here... at least, to the door. I created a warp point when I came in," Link added, "it should carry us to the exit. ... I hope."

A deity. He had to say, the only time he'd ever been even close to considering himself nearing godhood was at the peak of his empire, when his strength was at its highest and the world was at his feet. And yet, he still couldn't quite wrap his head around the concept.

There's no time to explain it more clearly, though. Link has already said that they'll talk when the danger has passed -- or, passed as much as it can while they're in the Tower, anyways. England has had too many run-ins with things he'd describe as no less than horrific for him to think that the place is anything close to being safe.

The Hylian's unsureness is a smidge worrying, but he would rather take that option than the alternative of sticking around this wasteland. He shifts a little awkwardly. "Thank you," he eventually says. There will be time to say it afterwards, but it merits saying now too. This is more important than a small favor.

England knows he's going to have to hold onto Link, but he's hesitant to initiate it. He's not comfortable with touching strangers (especially knowing that he's the one being carried, which is a considerable blow to his dignity), so he doesn't want to draw it out longer than is absolutely necessary. After a while, though, he outstretches his arms, opening them to Link's hold, whenever she's ready.

There's no hesitance on her end as she casts the green light around them, the telltale sign of Farore's Wind. Although there is some nagging concern in the back of her mind about him possibly finding out... more than she was comfortable with. She wore underclothing, however, on top of the bandages, so she could only hope that England wouldn't find anything odd about her or go poking around, even by accident, so to speak. Aside from which, she trusted him enough by now and wanted to saved him, so she saw no point in delaying. If need be, she could pass it off as him having been in this odd world at the time.

... To be honest, she is not used to playing the hero exactly like this. But saving people was something ingrained in her so deeply by now that there was no plausible way she would have ever left him.

"Please don't move while I make preparations. ... And... you're welcome. I'm glad I found you."

If nothing else, the magic would get them to the door. There was hardly enough wood or surfaces her Hookshot could cling to here, so she'd need to be crafty. Her pause is only brief before she offers her hand to him, helping him slowly into her arms as she enters the column of green, shining light. If it feels like anything, it would be weightlessness, a lack of feeling. The magic itself transported by changing the person's form briefly into pure energy until they had traveled back to the original point created, after all.

In a few short seconds, they are over the water, and landing quietly at the door to the outside. Link can't hide her relief at this; she's glad it worked.

He has to chuckle a little, very softly. Link wasn't really the one who should be happiest for this finding. "I'm certainly glad you did too," he returns, before allowing himself into her grasp.

There's only a vague, nagging thought that Link really is rather soft -- softer than he would have really expected, just from looking. It's hard not to notice while he's clinging to her for dear life. It's the least of his concerns, though, and hardly his business in the first place. He'd prod fun if this was America (wasn't that a laugh, the idea of that idiot coming to save him), but he doesn't know Link well enough to be comfortable with it.

He doesn't give it much lingering thought. He's probably still just out of his mind.

The magical transportation is dizzying; he has to close his eyes not to get nauseous. England doesn't have a weak stomach, but he's not quite up to his full hardiness at current. Once he feels like he has mass again, he opens his eyes, and can't hold back a sigh of relief at the sight of the door. At first, he goes to reach for the knob -- and then, with the sudden shift in balance, remembers he's holding onto Link and almost falls in the effort to right himself. Er, that's awkward. Is he allowed to walk now, or is there something else?

... Link has to admit she is rather concerned, overall, about what England might be thinking. If nothing else, once they've landed, the consolation comes in England's awkward forgetful slip-up; if nothing else, it would serve as an EXCELLENT, far less focused on her distraction. Not to mention an excuse to let him stand on his own, thank the Goddesses.

So she does just that, putting him down, and feeling just a bit embarrassed by things, all considered. But at least the door led out. That... was really what mattered.

She's... not really going to say anything (it's hard enough not to think too much and to keep embarrassment off her face at this point, she doesn't do well with physical contact), so you should probably take this as a sort of 'after you' gesture, England. After all, she hardly knows about the rule of ladies first, and even if she did, she wouldn't abide by it to save her cover.

England is a little wobbly when he stands, and he's shaking all over, from the cold and the adrenaline rush. But he has weathered worse than the realization of a deep-seated fear and has still remained standing resolute. It would take more than a little water to truly bring the British Empire to his knees.

He nods to Link as she holds the door for him. He then holds his head high with all the dignity he can muster while clammy, trembling, and breathing water that shouldn't be there, and crosses the threshold back into the Tower with determination.

England doesn't mean to look back -- he doesn't want to, he wants to be able to leave this nightmare behind -- but the sound of a voice echoing in his head makes him turn to glance over his shoulder at the drowned wreckage that was once his beautiful capital.

'I thought, since your worlds were destroyed, I'd use your minds to put you in a similar one. But why do you want such a terrible world? I think it's safer for you here.'

His eyebrows knit together in confusion and he looks to Link, wondering if she has heard it as well. But he can't dwell on it; before he knows it, he's back in the cafeteria, and suddenly what he's breathing feels like air again. He chokes a little at the sudden difference, but it segues into a deep inhale. Oh god, that's so much better.

...except, he feels sort of faint. He should probably either get to his room or the infirmary -- it would be nothing short of humiliating to pass out in the middle of the dining area.

Link sighs absently, because she doesn't believe that voice for a minute. You can tell by the look on her face, however, that she's not pleased. Meaning yes, she heard it too. She sees England's tiredness, and offers him her arm should he want to lean on her. She pauses, not wanting to force anything on him, before she finally speaks.

"... You need to see if the infirmary can aid you," she says, "I'm concerned."

She's relieved that, at the very least, England is breathing easier. She knows this is hard on him, and she's sad it had to be this way. But whoever did this was trying to help... right? She couldn't hate them, even if she disliked the idea that this was Arthur's fault.

Is This Home?

No it was beautiful. Hero to the rescue o/

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