#sanguinesorcery

[dragmirc]

gan: *squinting* ... i do not trust that man...

[uramii-archive]

Descent

Golden eyes fixated upon the golden insignia that marked the back of his left hand. Usually it did this when in proximity of other users or when he actively draws power from it. Perhaps he truly hasn't learned all it's secrets... which, if he were present during his takeover, he'd have realized. He allowed the pieces representing Wisdom and Courage to slip through his grasp in his swift execution of Link & Zelda. Yet, he got what he was vying for. It took a century of waiting and watching but here he sat in talks with another nation, The Sidhe, discussing trade. He was King of Hyrule after destroying his fated opposition.

Ganondorf shook the thought of why his piece was shining in such a delicate meeting and raised his head. He had been seated across from the Empress herself and those she saw fit to oversee their talks. In this moment he chose to stand alone. It truly wasn't personal... he simply didn't wish for Zant to know these details. He already knew what the Usurper King himself would say: Don't trust them. They are an unknown entity who have perhaps watched Hyrule for even longer than he. This could definitely be true, but Ganondorf wondered why wasn't this arrangement made before his violent coup? He'd definitely put such a question to them later. For now, Ganondorf stood to gain access to technology never before seen in the so-called blessed land. It was his to do with as he pleased.

In return they wanted an assortment of mines. This was a string of islands that formed an Empire which, historically, were power-hungry. Yet, here they are speaking cordially and attempting to forge a deal. This would worry anyone else but not the Dark Lord. For now at least. His eyes bounced between all who appeared across from him as his chest rose to take in air.

"Allow me to reiterate the terms for both sides." The focus, primarily his own, was back to them for the moment. His throat cleared and the gravelly tone rang forth to recite what they've agreed upon thus far to his understanding.

"You wish for not only access, but ownership over specific mines throughout Hyrule. We'll determine a number of them later. In exchange, I would like access to your weaponry. Your steam technology interests me and I'm intrigued by the thought of it being used in offense. The paltry steel the Royal family offered to the soldiers of this land disappoints me." The confession was joined by him adjusting within his seat. Arms were sprawled across the armrests gripping their ends giving his stance more presence. "Am I on the right track, Empress Fariah? I do hope I've got your title right." This was definitely to an end but Ganondorf being cordial? He'd picked up on their behavior already and sought to emulate it. Force has been used to get him this far but how much further could brutish applications of power carry him? Truly he had a lot of time to think on the throne before this interaction. Oddly enough, being caught up on revenge for a century led him to this particular juncture.

Of course, this would be temporary. He'd return to his cruel self outside of their negotiations. Against them if need be. Were they simply waiting to strike out at him? He had to consider that with his new rank. Before his execution he was simply King of the Gerudo. Now he was King of all Hyrule. An even bigger target with much more to lose and yield in death.

@sanguinesorcery

[unblemisheddesertflower]

@sanguinesorcery liked for a starter

That the Gerudo were surrounded on the East by two empires was unnerving to say the least. It would be one thing if the West was nothing but desert, and the North, mountains. Not to mention the Rito, but they may be the Gerudo's best chance at allyship... A thought for another time, perhaps.

Though officially diplomat to Hyrule, the chieftain allowed him to do damn near whatever he pleased. So long as it was ineffective. At least, by his standards. Diplomacy had its place, but that place was rarely "averting war with an enemy that has demanded it for half a century." He could placate and put things off for some time, but the Hyrulean state made its imperial aims clear; and he would do anything to prevent that goal from coming to pass.

So, that may mean making a deal with the devil. At least for now.

The Sidhe were a bit of a wild card. They clearly had similar aims to the Hyruleans, but they were more cunning and willing to play the long game. Their magic enabled them to have lifespans rivaled only by the Zora and perhaps very old Gorons. In truth, they were probably a bigger threat to the Gerudo nation than the Hyruleans could be in one thousand years. However, they were reserved during the war. And could surely be persuaded to see that, if allowed to run amok against the Gerudo, they would certainly do the same against the Sidhe.

And wouldn't that be at least somewhat vexing? Like a dog biting at one's ankles?

So Ganondorf, the Aquulifan, knelt before the empress at court, backed by a pair of scouts and two more diplomats in behind. He bowed his head to his knuckle and waited, appropriately, to be greeted.

"Your majesty."

[gerudospiriit]

starter for @sanguinesorcery

Nabooru pored over the last correspondence shared between herself and the empress of the Isles of Sidhe, a region she only read mentioned in a few texts from either dusty Gerudo or Hylian texts. An archipelago off the southern coast of Hyrule, a nation with some sort of relationship with the monarchy of greater Hyrule. But, that was almost all she could glean from perusing the texts she could get her hands on. Not even her spy network could find out much about them without an order to traverse there themselves.

A risk Nabooru wasn't about to take with her people. Too many unknowns for potentially little reward.

Instead, she reached out to the ruler of those lands with a request to meet. One that echoed her genuine curiosity and opened the prospect of, for the moment, trade opportunities. For the moment, she did not ink her desire for any other type of alliance. Though her people's situation was tenuous, desperation would make them weaker in any kind of negotiation. She wanted to meet Empress Fariad on equal footing. To give her a peek into Gerudo life, aspects of Hyrule she or, perhaps, any of her people have never gotten a taste of before.

Still, as she waited with Aveil, Avira, Valis at the agreed upon location just on the border between Gerudo territory and Hyrule proper, the triplet archers strategically placed and hidden out of sight in the unlikely event the meeting turned sour, anxiety's claws caressed the surface of her consciousness. It always did in situations like these; she was raised a soldier, not a ruler. A fighter, not an orator or dealmaker. A weapon, not a crown. After all, there was no need. Certainly, she learned from her predecessor, from trial by fire after his fall, but diplomatic affairs would never feel as comfortable as a pair of blades in her hands.

Satisfied it was the right day, the right location. She tucked the letter away again. She straightened her posture, squeezed the hilts of her blades, and waited, eyes scanning the direction in which her guests informed her they would arrive.

[devilsprophet]

"As I recall, you came to me, O Prophet."

She's not playing the game right. She also doesn't care if she is or not. It's her game now, she will play it as she sees fit.

@sanguinesorcery

Came for the __, stayed for the ___

"Indeed I did. Hm...let's see..."

And to her Astor approaches, hovering over her chair, hands upon her armrests, leaning in just enough.

"I came for your alliance and the power it brings," he says in that smooth timbre, "but I stayed for that delightfully sharp tongue and sharper eyes that work so very hard to hide your ever rapid thoughts."

[serandipity]

@sanguinesorcery liked for a starter from Sheik

It was rare that Hyrule Castle got visitors, even rarer that visitors from beyond the seas graced their land. The castle was abuzz with the arrival of these foreign visitors. Sheik, however, felt uneasy. The Royal Family were graced with the gift of prophecy, and while Zelda dreamt of visions grand and small, Sheik only dreamt of one thing.

Death.

And he was dreaming of it more and more often. He dream of his fathers head ripped from his shoulders, the castle slaughtered, and a man in black standing at the center of it all, clutching his fathers head. There was no need for interpretation. The Goddess of Death lurked through the halls of the castle, her talons ready and outstretched to take that which she could not be denied.

And yet no one other than him seemed bothered. Everyone was preparing for the festivities with jubilation. This was the first foreign visitor Hyrule had since before the civil war ripped the lands asunder.

Sheik was not invested in his duties, and perhaps that's why he'd been thrown on laundry duty. The head made always did have a tendency to be far too hard on him. He carried a bundle of towels with him, the height of it obscuring his vision. Unsurprisingly, he tripped, crashing to the stone floor, the clean towels falling everywhere.

"Ow. Ow. Ow." He hissed propping himself up after a moment. It was only after that he realized he'd fallen flat on his face in front of someone...

"Ah, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to...'' A pause. He could not help but stare at the clothes the strangers wore. They certainly weren't like anything he'd ever seen. Were these... the honored guests that the entire castle was abuzz with?

"F...Forgive me, most honored guests," Sheik stammered out as he descended into a bow.

[nechojakrp]

Starter for @sanguinesorcery

~

Artice decided that, on his weekend off, he'd take the train for a ride to somewhere nice. He looked up a list of new locations, and found one that was reported to be a nice, if humid, island, and that sounded nice. Perhaps it was tropical? A tropical beach vacation? Maybe he could even invite a friend. Or make a new one.

Parking the train in a secluded location, Artice stepped out and kept walking, trying to find the shore. The humid air stood out immediately, as the train was climate-controlled. His hair was beginning to frizz, as well. Still, it was nice, at first. But the little bit of breeze he did get made him a bit sweaty, and the thick underground kept making him trip on his large, straight talons. Still, he persisted, knowing that all it took was an empty space and his whistle, and the train would arrive for him.

[dragmirc]

"Papaan!"

Rakkon seems particularly excited about something or another. She's burst into the room, looking like she's met with the business end of a charcoal windstorm, but with a smile wider than anything. She scrabbles to pull herself up to her father's level, rising to stand like she's seen him stand before. Faux authoritative, hands on her hips and shoulders back.

"I wanna show you! Look!"

Already, she has abandoned emulating her much taller parent. Hands with palms facing together, fingers barely touching. She tenses, focusing hard on the space cupped between them and within a half minute, there is a crackle of magick.

It smells of brimstone and a small ball of flame manifests between her hands, much to her visible delight. Of course, with such unrefined talent, it explodes in her face with a comical pop!! It's not hard to see where she has gotten her scorched face and scent of crisped hair.

Despite being met with her own little bomb, Rakkon blinks before bursting into a broad grin. Obviously undeterred from having it go off in her face, she seems more excited that it happened at all.

"See!? I can conju--conjun-- .... conjugacate magic!"

She gets a pass there, 'conjure' is a big word for an excited six-year-old.

@sanguinesorcery

A Random Prompt from @sanguinesorcery

Ganondorf is pulled from his musings by the scuffling shuffle of his eldest. It could only be his eldest, as Pamina is still a toddler clinging to her mother's hip.

He thinks at first he should correct her to use the proper term of endearment in Gerudo rather than in Sidhe, she is destined to lead the sovereign in her future. But the thought is quickly dispelled when she finally makes it to stand next to him in his broken solitude. He is reminded of his own pride in the making of such fiery curls and firm stature, of the sharp angles of her face. Her ... burnt face, smeared in char and now that he thinks about it, there's a flavor of burnt hair in there. And he thought her hair had looked especially curly today...

Before he even has a chance to respond to his vibrating daughter, she interrupts him. Though it is not how she does so but with what she does. A familiar tingle passes through his fingertips into his left arm at about the same time as the smell of brimstone invades his nostrils. To say he is proud at such a display is an understatement, even with the small explosion that soon follows. Not that he admits he jumps a little at it; it is a surprise to both of them, it seems.

He is reminded momentarily of when his own powers manifested. It wasn't nearly so calm, the remembrance of putting a hand on a wooden fence for someone's cow coming to mind and immediately catching it alight. The chaos that ensued as his own panic surfaced and made it only worse. The shame in the aftermath of knowing he had caused undue damage without willing it or causing it with his own two hands, something the Gerudo were proud of.

He was about Rakkon's age when it happened, excited to see the birth of a new animal that would help the community he grew up in. It is little more than instinct for his golden eyes to dart around now, feeling passed him and his daughter to make sure there isn't anything she has left behind. Although, Rakkon's excitement also assures him she is not in trouble despite discovering this nature about herself.

It gives her father a moment to relax at this realization. Mostly in that he doesn't have to explain to her mother why the Gerudo would suddenly dislike their future Queen. Truth be told, they tolerate the one they have now. At least Rakkon has the grace to be born looking like her Gerudo heritage.

"Conjure," he offers matter-of-factly before bending to a knee in front of his daughter.

It is not to praise these abilities, Ganondorf always sort of knew both of his children would be magically adept. Or, he assumes with Pamina, as hers has yet to awaken. Rakkon clearly is, but it is to be expected. Not only are they his children, but their mother is a mage equal in power to himself. It was only a matter of time, but a glaring issue faces him now with his eldest. Her form is off.

He reaches slowly around the excitable six-year-old. His fingers tap on either side of her spine, right at the curve. Once, twice.

"This is your core. It is where all manner of energy is stored. Both the physical and the metaphysical," he begins before drawing the fingers up her back to her shoulderblades. "Concentrate on drawing that energy up to here--" He continues, moving down her arms to her wrists. "--To here..."

He takes her hands, so little against his own. So soft and new to the world against his own scarred and calloused fingers. Albeit, the explosions she has been making have caused the skin around her fingertips to glisten a little...

He spreads her fingers to the appropriate positions, curls the palms as they should. Holds her hands up in position so they shouldn't block the flow of her energy.

"Try concentrating on it now."

The results are frighteningly potent. He feels as her channels open unburdened, sees the ring of magenta in her eyes, and it takes all of a second to both be proud of the crackling plume of fire she manifests in her hands, bigger and brighter than any she has likely shown yet, and realizing another mistake. He forgets to tell her to block off her emotions. Her excitement at how easy it comes is palpable.

The explosion can be heard in a nearby settlement some distance from his overlook.