Zelda (
sageprincess) wrote in
middaeg2019-09-10 02:45 pm
Entry tags:
[closed] yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down
Who: Zelda and others
When: Throughout the month
Where: Dorchacht
What: Another catch-all log for Hell City shenanigans
Warnings: None atm, will update if that changes
[PM this account or hmu on plurk at
jamizoid if you wanna plot out some Dorchacht shenanigans this month!]
When: Throughout the month
Where: Dorchacht
What: Another catch-all log for Hell City shenanigans
Warnings: None atm, will update if that changes
[PM this account or hmu on plurk at

for scathach;
Darting around unseen by the city's guards (or running fast enough that they can't keep up when they give chase) is familiar, and something she is quite adept at. All her practice with illusion magic is also finally paying off in spades, and she's happy to note that she's getting better at keeping her disguise up without actively thinking about it. Whether that's because of the Bond she's made or simply growing accustomed to her new powers, who can say, but she's contented by that fact nonetheless.
... She's less used to working with others in such an environment, however. Her days as Sheik taught her to be self-reliant, and wary of others, no matter how kind or well-intentioned they might seem; a slip up here or there could ruin everything if word about it spread to the wrong people. But she doesn't have much of a choice here, not when her options are huddle in close with the resistance members down in the sewers or be torn to ribbons by whatever horrors lurk in the Wilde beyond. She has to trust these strangers just as they've trusted her, but... old habits are hard to break.
She hasn't been sleeping much, because of this, and it's starting to wear on her. A little orb of golden light floats around her head in the darkness of the sewers as she stares down at an open book in her lap. And "stares" really is the most accurate word here, as she hasn't turned a page in quite a while. But she is absolutely not so tired that reading comprehension has flown out the window, nope, no sir. She is Fine.]
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But she was still a mortal princess, still someone with the same needs as any other soldier, and that included needing to rest. Shadow approached her, giving her a light tap to the foot with the end of her spear. ]
My lady's eyes are heavier than that book, at this point. [ A light, teasing remark, but with a soft tone as she started to sit herself beside the girl. ]
If you'll not rest for your own sake, then perhaps I could ask it as a favor for me?
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There's... really no denying the other's observation, but she tries to keep her answer nonchalant, even so.]
Were it only so easy. I fear it would only result in a few hours of restless tossing and turning, to the satisfaction of no one. It is... difficult, to become comfortable down here, you know.
[Because it's smelly and what they have passing as bedding here is still far too harsh for her delicate princess constitution, clearly. She is definitely not trying to hide behind half truths and implied meanings, why would anyone think that.]
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Normally, her teasing tone was pretty clear, and that certainly seemed like something she'd say to tease the princess with, but there was no lack of sincerity there, either. ]
Something from my homeland, perhaps...
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[Again, she finds her heart aching for people who aren't here, and again, she swallows that feeling down, locking it back away until the next time someone accidentally turns the key. The sincerity throws her off besides, and it's easy to read her hesitation as wariness that she's walking into yet another bout of poking fun at her reactions.]
I... would not refuse you, if that is something you wish to share with me. [The woman she calls "Shadow" doesn't reveal much about herself, and though she's curious, Zelda's never thought it her place to pry.] But I will also assure you it is not necessary. I am certain sleep will find me eventually, regardless.
for ozymandias;
touristsdignitaries, everything that is left for them to come across serves a very clear purpose. The food is bland but filling; the clothes are a sea of durable neutrals. What few toys that are on sale are clearly made for the youngest of children, who do not yet know how to curb their impish antics. Not an ostentatious or luxurious thing in sight.And so it might not be difficult to pull the Pharaoh's attention away from the various wares when a distant but authoritative voice calls out across the crowd:]
Thief!
[Not a moment later, a tanned youth with dark golden hair falling over their face politely pushes their way around the marketgoers, muttering apologies and excuse mes as they try to navigate the crowd with an obvious haste. Given Ozymandias'... everything, it's not exactly easy to avoid bumping into him in the winding streets of the bazaar.]
... Terribly sorry, sir.
[They keep their head down as they try to pass, but the sound of heavy boots on cobblestone growing ever closer dashes any dreams of blending easily into the crowd. They cast their gaze to the rooftops, narrowing their scarlet eyes in an analytical stare that Ozymandias might find... oddly familiar, somehow? But certainly the Pharaoh doesn't associate with anyone that could be called a common thief, right?]
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She'd heard her fussing and her protests, and as she so often did, just went ahead with her intentions, stubborn as ever. But there was a gentleness in the lilt of the notes, as if she had sung this song once before, for someone else who'd been as stubborn as her... ]
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[But he needed to have a better lay of the land than what he saw in the dream. And so, he was idly and quite barely perusing the goods that were on offer when he's bumped into by the escaping, accused thief. Ozymandias is almost relieved that something is happen, but that becomes dismissed quickly as they look to the rooftops. If he weren't interested in before, he certainly is now.]
[Ozymandias is not particularly tall, but he is tall enough to see their pursuers. They're making a surprising amount of ground quickly despite the crowd's general unwillingness to move. He nudges the accused.]
I would suggest moving in whichever direction you're intending on taking now.
[He's not usually one for unlawfulness, but he cannot imagine that the punishment for a thief is at all lenient or proportional to the crime committed.]
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This is childish, she thinks. She is being treated like a child who can't even put herself to sleep. She should object, but for as much as the song and the voice are wrong, it's still one of the first positively familiar things she's experienced in this strange world so far from her own.
She misses Impa.]
... You have a lovely singing voice.
[She murmurs, quiet as not to interrupt, and listens.]
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By the time the song finished, she let out a soft hum, checking on Zelda to see if she was still awake... ]
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... Mm?
[Even if left alone, it probably won't take long for her to succumb to sleep fully. Lullabies are apparently super effective on Hylian princesses, who would have known?]
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... And rather than explain herself, she simply began the song again, right from the beginning, softer this time, quieter, letting the notes drift between them like a breath of air. ]
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... But then they shake their head, pushing past him instead and earning the ire of a few nearby vendors as they clamber up their stalls to reach the facade of the buildings behind them. Ozymandias would never submit to the orders of a suspicious, hooded stranger, and to reveal themselves as anything else would jeopardize both of the missions they've come to this city to accomplish.
Doesn't mean the deception doesn't make the princess underneath the disguise a little sick in an unfortunately familiar way, however. But there's no time for regrets. The guards catch up sooner rather than later and push past Ozymandias themselves to reach the wall of the market just as the accused heaves themselves up over a balcony.
Oi, get down from there! they yell.
The red-eyed stranger shows no sign of complying.]
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Or perhaps it is more accurate to say it is because of all those awful things that she seeks out that soft and fleeting connection with the honesty provided to her in her exhaustion. Either way, she is not keen on explaining herself either, and soon after Shadow begins her reprise, she will feel the weight of Zelda's head resting upon her shoulder, her breathing slow and even.
Hopefully the lancer didn't have anywhere she planned on being in the next couple of hours.]