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flyoverkushtaka · 13 days ago

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Naturally, since I should be working on a research project today doing a reading of Ronsard and his Protestant enemies and how both conceive of a poetry as a manifestation of the sacred, I instead can’t stop thinking about the Zelda series’s symbolic use of the color blue.

It’s odd: In Zelda the color blue is associated with the virtue of wisdom and with the goddess Nayru (referred to as the Goddess of Wisdom in Ocarina of Time). Any icon of Nayru is blue, Nayru’s Love has a blue glow to it, the dragon Naydra is blue, in Oracle of Ages Nayru has blue hair, the highly informed and hyperanalytic Fi is blue, mystical Sheika tech glows blue. Etc. This is neatly parallel with the green of courage and Farore, and the red of power and Din. Almost.

Why, then, does the Zelda series also associate blue with deception?

Every disguise Zelda wears is dominated by the color: Sheik is wrapped in blue; it’s the color of Tetra’s vest. The cloak Zelda uses in Echoes of Wisdom to hide her identity after escaping the castle prison is a dark-indigo blue, while transformed into Swordfighter Mode she gives off an azure glow. We could say that these disguises are an expression of the princess’s wisdom, using cleverness to bypass problems rather than powering through them with brute strength, except Tetra doesn’t even realize her secret identity until halfway through the Wind Waker, as though a vital part of her disguise is her very ignorance of it being such.

Adding to this puzzle, there is one other game in which Zelda wears the color blue. Prominently.

Blue appears to be a royal color in Breath of the Wild, worn by each of the five champions in one fashion or another in order to showcase their favor with the Hyrulean crown. Zelda’s outfit in the majority of flashbacks is also blue, a sturdy, form-fitting blue tunic with black trousers and tall brown boots, tailored it seems for stability and ease of movement, and thus enabling the princess’s aspirations to become a “scholar” (a term she uses which seems to cover a broad net of academic and scientific pursuits, as we see Zelda in the game at different times act as both archaeologist and ecologist), aspirations which directly go against her father the king’s wishes, and, apparently, the will of the divine: Draped in the gauzy white and much-more-impractical robes of a priestess evoking the garb of, say, the Vestal Virgins, Zelda fails to awaken the light power supposedly within her royal blood. She tries again and again, to no avail. It is only at a moment of ultimate peril, when all seems lost, that Zelda is able to harness the divine power within her, save Link from a terrible fate, and hold Calamity Ganon at bay until the hero has recovered his strength. It is this same Vestal-like dress Zelda wears at the end of Breath of the Wild when Link slays Ganon and rescues her from her self-imprisonment.

A question arises: Is Zelda-the-scholar another disguise, then? Every other occasion of her wearing blue is part of a deception, so why not here as well? We see her happy and full of life when acting as a scientist, and insecure, anxious, and depressed when obliged to play the role of the priestess. She wants to be active in a world that ordains she be passive instead. And indeed, in the post-credits scene to Breath of the Wild, we see Zelda back in her old scholar’s outfit, ready to travel alongside Link to rebuild Hyrule from its centuries-old ruins. The camera scrolls, and the last shot the player sees is a field abloom with a pale blue flower known as a—Silent Princess.

Skyward Sword reconfigures the theology of Hyrule, folding the three goddesses of OoT into a single goddess, Hylia. We learn there as well that every Zelda in every other game is in fact an incarnation of Hylia in mortal form, associated with lighter colors such as yellow and pink and white. These colors make up Zelda’s dresses in every game starting with A Link to the Past. They’re iconic: The sartorial details of her dress may change between iterations but the colors remain. They are associated with the divine power within Zelda as well as the world of Hyrule in general: The Triforce as well as light arrows are golden yellow; just as golden is Zelda’s blond hair (again starting with ALttP). When Zelda gives into her latent scalie fantasies in Tears of the Kingdom and transforms into the Light Dragon, her form is white and gold, the only hint of blue to found in the hilt of the Master Sword jutting out from her forehead and the cerulean of her animalistic eyes.

There have always been two Zeldas: White Zelda, incarnation of Hylia and vessel for divine forces, passive, auxiliatory, more of a prize to be one than an agent in the world; and Blue Zelda, active, human, traveling, capable of expressing her political and personal interests. The dichotomy between the two, until Echoes of Wisdom, is strictly upheld: As soon as Tetra learns that she is actually Zelda, she loses her brash and adventurous personality and cloisters herself in Hyrule Castle; and not long after Sheik reveals her identity to Link, she is captured by Ganondorf and must be rescued. Although Zelda can enter and exit Swordfighter Mode more or less at will in Echoes of Wisdom, this dichotomy remains in other ways: It is only after being branded as an outlaw that Zelda can begin her adventure properly, and until she rescues her father the king and unmasking his Doppelgänger, she is obliged to conceal her identity beneath a blue cloak.

Actually, maybe it’s more apt to say there are three Zeldas: Zelda the active agent clad in blue, Zelda the vessel for the divine glowing gold and white, and Zelda the princess who mediates between the two. There’s a similar analogy to be made with the bearer of the Triforce of Power, whose three faces are the bestial Ganon, the cunning and avaricious Ganondorf, and Groose. Maybe these three faces are part of every inhabitant of Hyrule, everyone settling into their own balance or imbalance of Power, Wisdom, and Courage.

There’s of course one other consideration: In our modern day and age, blue is a masculine color, associated with boys, contrasted with girly pink. All of Zelda’s disguises have a masculine angle to them: Sheik has a male body, Tetra is a bold and bawdy pirate captain, Zelda’s scholarly outfit is built for maneuverability (and science in general has traditionally been considered a man’s domain), Swordfighter Mode grants Zelda Link’s traditional weapons. Acting more like or being mistaken for a man is the primary way Zelda enacts her will upon the world (in Skyward Sword, this is instead accomplished by her steward, the gruff, martial, and angular Impa, clad in—you guessed it—blue, serving as a foil of sorts to Ghirahim, interestingly enough, sensual and effete where Impa is cold and cutting).

So, Zelda is the ordained bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom, a virtue associated with the color blue, a color Zelda adopts to enact her will and which at least once she associates with her true self over what tradition dictates of her, a color then of considered action, of willpower, of intellect wielded like a blade, a color which modern players will even if only on a subconscious level associate with maleness and all that might entail, a color associated with Zelda’s implicit rejection of the divine feminine in the name of authenticity.

Anyway, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk on why Zelda is transmasc.

#Singing the Zelda Blues #23 is Number One #ydy'r dwrgi'n dwp?

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volvolts · 3 years ago

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Something that has been bothering me to NO END is that I can’t figure out the mod frogs’ theme naming

#talkin #kipo #mod frogs #like Jamack sounds French but I don’t knows it’s origin or if it’s even a name #sartori I think of zelda botw with ‘satori’#I don’t know where Kwat comes from #and Harris is a name right?? but I’ve only heard it in conjunction with Harrison #WHY ARE THEY ONLY ONES WITH WEIRD ASS NAMES??? please someone tell me

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pocketseizure · 7 years ago

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The Legend of the Princess, Chapter Seventeen

A Silence Now Broken

In which Zelda finally learns the truth about Ganondorf.

(Chapter Seventeen on AO3) (Story Tag on Tumblr) (Cover Illustration)

* * * * *

"You think I'm going to kill you?" Zelda was so surprised that she couldn't help but laugh. "That's absurd."

Ganondorf glared at her. "This is no laughing matter," he growled. He tried to move away, but she squeezed his thigh to hold him in place.

"You're at least a head and shoulders taller than I am, and you must weigh a dozen stone more than me. Even if I were well armed and you were practically naked, I still don't see how I would be a threat to you."

"It's not that simple," he grunted.

"I'm sure it's not," she agreed amiably. "Why don't you explain it to me?"

Ganondorf looked at her and then looked away, once again fixing his gaze on a cluster of the silent princess lilies, which were so brilliantly white that they seemed to emit their own luminescence into the strange twilight. He didn't say anything, but the intent expression on his face told Zelda that he wasn't going to run away from her and the conversation she was asking him to have. Hylia help her if he did flee, for she had no way of getting back to Hyrule.

"I'm not sure where to begin," he eventually muttered.

"Then let me start," she offered. "I have some questions I've been meaning to ask you."

"And just what is it you think you want to know?" Ganondorf scowled, but the stiff line of his shoulders relaxed slightly.

"Quite a few things, actually," Zelda admitted. "Let's see if I can narrow them down to three." She raised her hand and began counting on her fingers. "First, you've spent almost no time at court, so what have you been doing while you've been here in Hyrule? Second, where have you been going at night? And third, why are you dressed like that?"

"Why am I dressed like this?" Ganondorf looked down at himself and raised his eyebrows, apparently noticing the mud splattered on his boots for the first time, but then he looked back up at her and sneered. "Why are my sartorial choices of such interest to a princess? Am I not dressed well enough for you?"

Zelda had already decided to trust him when she allowed herself to fall into his arms through the library window, so she answered him as truthfully as she could.

"There have been reports of a Gerudo man sighted on Death Mountain, and the Gorons are ill at ease, saying that the dodongos are restless. Darunia is all toasts and smiles, but his good humor masks his anxiety, which I can see in the way he won't meet my father's eyes. He's as close as an uncle to me. It hurts me to see him in pain, but the way he hesitates to mention his worries to my father hurts even more."

Ganondorf started to say something, but Zelda raised her hand to cut him off. "And there have also been reports of a Gerudo man in Zora's Domain," she continued. "I've heard that he's young and handsome and shrouded in black, and that he's cursed their deity. Ruto has sent me shallow assurances and hastily written excuses, but she hasn't yet come to Hyrule for my coronation, even though I count her as one of my dearest friends. She's never once failed to confide in me or let me know when she needs my help, so the problem she's facing must be truly difficult."

Ganondorf gave her a pained look. "Zelda, I – " he began, but she took his hand and squeezed his fingers to indicate that she was not yet done.

"And meanwhile, I've heard gossip about you and Link, yet neither of you has been willing to tell me that you're acquainted with one another. Did you know, Link has never told me the truth about where he lived and what did before he came to this castle. And now that he's apparently friendly with you, he seems not to want the two of us to see each other. And what about our stable master Barghest, who has lost almost all of his Hylian staff except Link? He's been observed speaking with other Darknuts in the early morning and late evening, almost as if he didn't want to be seen. A large group of Moblins has set up camp outside the castle walls, and there's something about them that's been making people nervous. Where did they come from, and what are they trying to do here? Or rather, who has been spreading rumors about them in order to stir up trouble?"

"Zelda..." Ganondorf did not turn away, but his eyes grew softer. It seemed to her that he was regarding her with something like awe. She took advantage of this opening and finally asked what she wanted to know.

"And now I'm here with you. You were right outside the library as soon as my vision ended, and I assume you used magic to get here. But the vision we saw interrupted something, didn't it? Where were you, before you came here? Why are you covered in mud and grass stains, and why do you smell like..." She reached up and allowed herself to stroke a stray strand of his hair, which was suffused with a fragrance like moss and pine boughs. "...why do you smell like the forest?"

Ganondorf didn't respond. Zelda watched his face carefully as he appraised her in turn. She knew that she should wait for him to say something, but she was on the verge of losing her patience, dignity be damned. She had no desire to behave like a princess; she simply wanted to be Ganondorf's friend. She dropped his hand and once again slid her fingers over his knee.

"You can tell me," she said softly. "I promise that I'll listen. It's finally just the two of us."

"Finally, you say?" Ganondorf shot her an acrimonious glance. "You've asked your questions, but what do you have to say to me?"

"What do I have to say to you?" Zelda looked away as she repeated his question. What did she have to say? Did he want her to apologize for distrusting him? Yet surely he understood that his behavior was suspicious. Did he want her to apologize for having kept such a close watch on him? If she had wanted to pry information out of Ganondorf, it would not have been difficult. That's why her family had such a close relationship with the Sheikah, after all. In fact, she thought with a flare of irritation, Ganondorf should be apologizing to me. But that was not, she realized, what she wanted. Not after what she had seen in her visions, and not after she danced with him in the starless sky above this haunted castle.

"What do I have to say to you?" she repeated once more. "Only that I'm worried about you. Whatever you're doing, I want to help."

"Why would you want to help me?" Even through the disdain in Ganondorf's voice, Zelda could feel him pulling closer to her, and she wasn't surprised when he touched his fingers lightly to her cheek.

Zelda covered his hand with her own, gently pressing his palm against her face. "Why?" She smiled. "I'm surprised you need to ask. We were friends, once, when we were children. I care for you."

Ganondorf pressed the pad of his thumb against her lips. "Do you still care for me as a child?"

Zelda shook her head. She could taste the salt of Ganondorf's skin on the tip of her tongue. She guided his hand from her lips to her chin and then raised her face to look at him. He met her gaze, and the moment stretched out, filled with possibilities that were so tangible and solid that she felt she could almost reach out and touch them. Ganondorf's eyes gleamed golden, and she could not look away from him. He hesitated, but after a sweet eternity he leaned down, bowed his head forward, and kissed her.

Ganondorf had kissed her hungrily in their vision, but now that they had returned to their own time he seemed almost afraid to touch her. When the kiss broke, as softly as a sigh, he met her eyes once again, asking an unvoiced question. Zelda responded by taking his hand and guiding it to the back of her neck. His skin was rough against hers, and she could smell the bitter tang of the aged leather of his gauntlets. He twined his fingers through her unbound hair with surprising gentleness.

"You said we could use the Twilight Realm to travel," she suggested.

"Where would you like to go?" he responded, his voice as thick and dark as syrup.

"Take me to your bedroom in the castle," she said, making it clear from her tone that it was not a request.

"As Her Highness commands," Ganondorf murmured, and then he swept her off her feet and into his arms as he stood. Holding her close to him, he stepped forward through the Twilight. The world seemed to rip and tear around him, but the way he moved forward through the jagged hole in reality seemed as effortless as passing through a gauze curtain.

On the other side of the darkness was a large and well-appointed room. Zelda recognized the layout of one of the larger guest suites, but it was nevertheless strange to her eyes. The usual sitting room furniture had been replaced with low couches, and the side tables were lower as well. Zelda had seen illustrations of the Gerudo fortress, so she understand that the arrangement of this room was meant to be an approximation of typical Gerudo accommodations. Perhaps I'll visit his home in person, one day, she thought as he carried her across the room.

Ganondorf set her on her feet beside one of the couches, so she sat down, leaning against a pile of richly embroidered pillows. She sank back farther than she had expected, but the softness of the fabric was divine, and everything was suffused with the faint and pleasant smell of fragrant oil. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, smiling as she recognized the scent of sandalwood that she had associated with Ganondorf when they were younger.

When she opened her eyes, she saw him standing over her.

"You are a marvel," he whispered as his eyes settled on hers.

"I did not ask you to bring me here to marvel," she challenged him, drawing herself into an upright position.

"Then tell me," he said as he knelt before her, "what would you have me do?"

"Explain," she said simply. "Tell me where you've been going and what you've been doing. I want to help you, but I need to understand what all of this is about."

Ganondorf grimaced before rising to his feet. "Would you like some tea?" he asked.

Zelda thought about pushing him to answer her immediately, but instead she simply nodded. If he needed a few moments to collect himself, then she would let him have them.

As he busied himself with a brass samovar in an alcove set into a far corner, Zelda took the opportunity to look around the room. There were books on every available surface. They were scattered without rhyme or reason, and some of their spines were bent open in a way that made Zelda frown in disapproval. Several musical instruments were lying about as well – a hand harp, a flute, a guitar like the one Link favored, and another string instrument whose name she didn't know. What surprised her the most, however, was the profusion of flowers displayed in vases arranged around the room. Where would Ganondorf have gotten so many flowers, and why did he have them?

"I went to the Gorons first," Ganondorf said without preamble as he returned to her.

He offered her a shallow ceramic cup veined with gold. It had no handle, but it did not burn her hand when she took it. The steam rising from the pale tea was fragrant, and it was like jasmine blooming on her tongue when she tasted it.

"The Gorons have a treasure I wished to see with my own eyes," Ganondorf continued. "It was given to them in antiquity by the royal family of Hyrule as a symbol of goodwill, and it thus stood to reason that their king would know of its whereabouts. I did not announce myself as an official emissary of the Gerudo when I arrived, but I did not make a secret of my identity. Darunia nevertheless refused to acknowledge my request for an audience. While I waited for a favorable reply, I learned that this treasure was not kept within their city, but deep within a cavern that was sacred to them. It took me days to locate the entrance. When I made my way inside I found that it housed a magnificent temple within its depths, but this temple was empty. There were no priests or worshipers or Gorons of any kind there, and there was no trace of the treasure. Unfortunately, my presence disturbed the dodongos, as well as your fabulous Goron-eating dragon, but there was nothing to be done. I wonder, why would such a sacred space have been abandoned?"

Why indeed. And what's this treasure you were seeking? Zelda wanted to ask, but instead she took another sip of tea. Ganondorf watched her lift the cup to her mouth, his gaze lingering on her fingers. He saw that she saw him watching, and he looked away before drinking deeply from his own cup. Based on the condensation on its surface, it was more than likely filled with ice water.

"Next I went to the Zora," he eventually said, setting his cup down on a pile of books. Zelda cringed at the thought of the ring it would leave but held her tongue as Ganondorf began to pace around the room.

"I was able to meet with King Ralis, but the audience was an insult, a circle of pleasantries that led nowhere. My business was with the queen, but she was nowhere to be found, and I was prevented from making further inquiries. I was also prevented from meeting with the princess. Ruto has always been diligent in our correspondence, and so I tried, night after night, to find a way to send word to her."

Zelda felt a stab of jealousy. Why had Ruto not told her of this? But no, she realized, Ruto would not have informed her about Ganondorf's visits, as she apparently hadn't been told herself. The jealousy she felt had nothing to do with a lapse in her friendship with Ruto and everything to do with Ganondorf's estimation of his relationship with the Zora princess. Even though Ganondorf's back was turned, Zelda was careful to keep her face neutral.

"It was in Hyrule that I was finally able to uncover the reason why the Zora kept me at a fin's length. One of their diplomats told me that the large fish they call Jabun lives in a glacial lake in the mountains above their domain, and they believe that this creature regulates the temperature of the water that flows downstream. It has recently become agitated, and those in the Zora royal family responsible for its care have become concerned with its health – and with the livelihood of their own people. Like the Gorons, the Zora also have a treasure from Hyrule, and this treasure seems to have doubled as a symbol of their covenant with Jabun. I assumed the Zora princess would keep this treasure on her person, but she's no longer in possession of it."

"And how do you know that?" Zelda snapped, unable to help herself from imagining a meeting between Ganondorf and Ruto that was far more friendly than their own had been when she first encountered him in the hallway outside the castle library.

He turned and looked at her sharply. She felt herself blushing, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a crooked smile. "I observed the ritual feeding of Jabun. It went... poorly," he said, shaking his head. "Afterward, I was able to track the princess's movements quite closely, and I overheard a conversation between her and a pair of older priestesses. She was distraught, and they were unkind. They believe that the Zora's Sapphire is the key to the ritual, and they blamed Ruto for its disappearance."

"Zora's Sapphire? That's the stone on Ruto's signet ring. Is that the 'treasure' you were looking for?"

Ganondorf nodded. "It is. The Gorons have a ruby, and there's an emerald hidden deep within the Lost Woods. I believe these three jewels possess extraordinary magical power, and I wanted to ascertain the nature of this power for myself."

"Why?"

"I myself didn't know why, not at first. I was researching Hylian relics that would have survived multiple instances of the calamity, and these jewels are three of the oldest existent artifacts in Hyrule."

"But..." Zelda frowned. "The Kokiri Emerald is nothing more than a myth. Generations of treasure hunters have gone into the Lost Woods seeking it, but it's never been found. So many of the people searching for it have disappeared that we no longer send our soldiers to rescue them."

When Ganondorf didn't respond, Zelda was struck with a flash of intuition. "Don't tell me... Don't tell me you've tried to go there yourself."

Ganondorf's face warmed with a slight smile. "Are you worried for my safety?"

Zelda remembered the haunted and skeletal face of a young woman who had recently been found wandering along the border of the southern forest. She could remember nothing, not even her own name, so the soldiers entrusted with her care had brought her to the castle. Zelda interviewed this woman herself, but all she could do was mutter feverishly about how the moon would fall in three days.

"Yes," Zelda answered Ganondorf's question honestly. "I am worried."

"I appreciate your concern," he said as he sat down beside her, "but you need not be. You wanted to know where I was before I met you outside the library?"

"You went to the forest," Zelda said in a flat voice, annoyed at herself for not having put the pieces together earlier.

"I did," Ganondorf replied.

"And did you speak with the Kokiri?"

"I did not."

"It's said that they use magic to make their city impossible to enter. Were you able to find it?"

Ganondorf gave her an odd look. "The Kokiri have no city."

"Excuse me?"

"Do you not know?"

"Know what?"

Ganondorf let out a slow breath and leaned back into the cushions beside her. Zelda wanted to fire a volley of questions at him, but she held herself back.

"Do you want more tea?" Ganondorf asked.

"I want to know what you're talking about," Zelda snapped. She looked down at her half-empty teacup and felt a twinge of remorse. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "It's just, it's difficult for me to process everything you're saying. I want to get to the bottom of this."

"It's I who should apologize to you." Ganondorf sat up and reached for her hand. She set her cup down and gave it to him, and he intertwined his fingers with hers. "I haven't talked with anyone about any of this," he admitted, "and I don't know the best way to go about it."

"I should have spoken to you before now."

"I wanted to speak with you as well, but the visions set me on edge."

Zelda didn't know how to respond, and they were both silent for a moment. The warmth of Ganondorf's palm was comforting, and she began stroking his thumb with her own.

"Why don't you tell me about the Kokiri?" she prompted. "What do you mean that they don't have a city?"

Ganondorf squeezed her hand. "Properly speaking," he began, "there is no such thing as the Kokiri tribe. Small creatures called Koroks inhabit the Kokiri Forest. They resemble leafless Deku Scrubs, but they occasionally appear as Gerudo – and, I would assume, as Hylians – when talking with people from outside the forest. They live freely wherever they wish under the protection of the Deku Tree, which speaks as the voice of the forest when necessary. These creatures are collectively referred to as a tribe for the sake of political exigency, but they have no culture or society as we would think of them as such."

"But..." Zelda's head was spinning. "They send representatives at the behest of their elder. I assume the title of 'the Great Deku Tree' is an inherited position?"

"The Deku Tree is literally a true. An ancient and enormous tree, but a tree nonetheless."

"Why did we not know?"

Ganondorf smiled and squeezed her hand again. "With all due respect, Zelda, I think many people who live outside the walls of your city do know. You need to leave the castle more often."

Zelda could feel herself flush pink with embarrassment. "So," she said, changing the subject, "did you find this tree?"

"I did."

"How did you not get lost in the woods?"

"Like the Sheikah, the Gerudo have methods of seeing through illusions. It took me several attempts, but I eventually made it deep enough into the forest to find the Deku Tree."

"And did you ask it about the Kokiri Emerald?"

"I did, but it was not a pleasant conversation. It told me, in no uncertain terms, that it had sent the jewel away from the forest in order to prevent it from falling into my hands. It said that it had foreseen my coming, and that it would do everything within its considerable ability to stop me."

"Did you explain why you're seeking these jewels?"

Ganondorf shook his head as he released her hand. "I'm afraid that I don't know myself."

Zelda smiled and took the opportunity to pluck the stray leaf that had become lodged in a tangle of his hair. "Maybe you just haven't tried to explain yourself to anyone yet," she offered. "Why don't you give it a shot?"

Ganondorf took Zelda's teacup from where she had set it down and drained it before answering her. "I don't know why or how, but those three jewels may be the keys that open the door to the Sacred Realm. I have to enter the Sacred Realm. I have to find the source of the calamity, and I have to find the power to stop it."

"Did you tell this to the Deku Tree? That you're trying to save Hyrule?"

"It told me that mortals have no business in the Sacred Realm. As if that makes a difference. The tree is ancient and wise, but it is a tree, and it knows nothing of the urgency of human lives."

"I might agree with the Deku Tree," Zelda said, trailing her fingers along Ganondorf's jaw. "Not even my family knows exactly what the Sacred Realm is, or even whether it exists at all. Explain to me why it's so urgent that you find these jewels. Why can't you wait until you have the cooperation of their keepers?"

Ganondorf raised his hand to cover hers. "I want to live, Zelda," he said. "I don't want to die, and I don't want anyone to die with me – or for me, or whatever I may become. I must have the power to end the calamity before it can happen."

His eyes were shining with a fierce determination that Zelda found both disturbing and strangely entrancing. There was something in the lines of his face that was oddly familiar to her, a shadow out of time. She blinked, and suddenly she recognized the violent intensity of the wizard whom she had seen destroy the tower.

"Are you sure you're not becoming the calamity yourself? Even now?" As the words left her mouth, Zelda was almost shocked at the low tone of her voice, which offered a clear invitation.

"And what if I were?" He raised himself so that he was leaning over her, his face inches away from hers. "What if me becoming the calamity is the only way to stop it?"

"There must be another way," Zelda murmured as she pressed the tip of her index finger onto his lower lip. "Maybe we should get to work on finding those jewels."

Ganondorf grinned, and in a split second his lips were on hers. Zelda leaned backward, and Ganondorf covered her, pressing his body against hers. She could feel the stiffness forming at his waist along the side of her leg, and she shifted herself slightly to grind into it. He gasped in pleasure, and then his tongue was in her mouth, hot and demanding. She welcomed him, and then he was above her, all hardness and muscle and desire to please.

How dare he, a voice hissed in her mind, and Zelda went cold. Suddenly it was as if she were watching herself from above, and she felt the same sense of unbalance that she had experienced at the start of her visions.

"Stop," she said, and he did. Ganondorf went suddenly still, like the eye of a storm, and slowly separated himself from her.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm doing, I... I barely know anything about you," she muttered. She wanted to keep touching him, to draw him back to her, but she forced herself to sit up and stand.

"I should go back," she stammered. "It's late, and – "

"There's no need to apologize," Ganondorf interrupted in a strained voice. His face was turned away from her, and his eyes were closed. "But, if you want to know about me," he continued, "then you need to find the truth about my mother. And yours as well."

Zelda nodded. She realized that he wasn't watching her, but she didn't know what to say. Her thoughts raced through her head in different directions. She didn't know how she would make it back to her own quarters without being observed, but she would find a way.

The Goddess grant me wisdom, she recited in her mind before heading toward the door.

"Talk to Link," Ganondorf said from behind her, his words so quiet that she could barely hear him. "He knows more about this than he would ever admit to either of us."

( Link to Chapter Eighteen: The Boy from the Forest )

#Princess Zelda #Ganondorf #Zelgan #The Legend of the Princess #my fic

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fashiontrendin-blog · 7 years ago

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1920s fashion history: the women who changed our style forever

http://fashion-trendin.com/1920s-fashion-history-the-women-who-changed-our-style-forever/

1920s fashion history: the women who changed our style forever

We chart the greatest influencers on the twenties’ style scene.

Before the likes of Katharine Hepburn and Bette Davis brought us the iconic 1930s fashion styles, there were the super chic styles of the roaring twenties. From the ultra-glam flapper girls to the first waves of cool androgyny, 1920s fashion was all about liberation, trying new things and having a whole lot of fun in the process.

After World War One, women’s style loosened up (literally) as the corsets came off, skirts got shorter , and thanks to a certain Coco Chanel, trousers for women were in for the very first time.

While comfort was king, there was still a decadence to Gatsby-era fashion – think Art Deco motifs, rich velvet or satin dressese embellished with pearls and gems. Showgirls like Josephine Baker, Clara Bow and Greta Garbo became the key trendsetters of the decade.

Gabrielle ‘Coco’ Chanel’s 1920s fashion

We are eternally grateful to Mademoiselle Coco Chanel for so many definitive 1920s fashion styles, and some of the greatest sartorial inventions; the little black dress, skirt suit, costume jewellery, espadrilles… But her greatest, most overarching influence? The liberation of women’s clothing and the concept of casual chic in the 1920s. Chanel led the trend for a flatter, corset-free bust, a streamlined silhouette with no hyper-waistline and she popularised trousers for women. Next time you let it all hang out after a huge dinner, you can thank this woman.

Clara Bow’s 1920s fashion

Here’s one of the original IT actresses, Clara Bow, modelling an ideal 1920s fashion look. The ultimate flapper girl, she looks ready to break into a Charleston any moment, doesn’t she? The slimming chevrons and dropped waist became style trademarks for all flapper girls by day, and were amped up in sequinned versions for the Gatsby glam parties at night.

Colleen Moore’s 1920s fashion

Silent film actress Colleen Moore basically invented the bob. Women around the world copied the black block cut that she and a few other early adopting actresses made popular, making her one of the greatest beauty influencers of all time – although 1960s fashion would see an even shorter popular style in the pixie crop. She’s pretty much the reason so many of us opt for bob hairstyles today. Colleen loved her bob so much, in fact, that she kept that haircut until the day she died in 1988. Talk about a signature style…

Louise Brooks 1920s fashion

Party girl Louise tried and tested all of the trends the decade had to offer, and we’ve got her down as an Alexa of the decade. She popularised the bob, got women to see how fab trousers can be and was one of the first actresses to speak openly about her experiments with her sexuality. Palazzo trousers are still a staple of holiday style.

Josephine Baker’s 1920s fashion

Josephine Baker is the woman who inspired Beyonce’s booty-shake. How cool is that? The original showgirl was famous for her ‘banana dance’, plus she was a spy and she owned a pet cheetah, which she used to walk in Paris. A queen of accessorising, the Jazz Age beauty sometimes wore little else on stage, and by day she worked an Art Deco print like no other.

Greta Garbo and Valentina Schlee 1920s fashion

On the set of The Temptress, actress Greta Garbo was without doubt one of the decade’s most alluring film stars. While many actresses sexed it up to appeal to male audiences, Greta’s sense of style meant that women, too, were fascinated by her beauty. Her favourite designer was Valentina Schlee, and she went on to epitomise old Hollywood glamour.

Gloria Swanson’s 1920s fashion

Dripping with glamour in her spliced gold dress and bejewelled headband, Gloria Swanson was the picture of 1920s fashion. Never knowingly understated, her extravagant dress sense meant that she was one of the decade’s stand-out style star – a Lady Gaga for the Jazz Age, if you will.

Dorothy Sebastian and Joan Crawford’s 1920s fashion

As women’s style became more relaxed, there was more emphasis than ever before on sportswear and swimwear. We were still a long way off from the bikini here; a staple part of 1940s fashion, it wasn’t invented until 1946. But for the first time women could move freely and actually be active in their activewear, so all in all it was a pretty revolutionary decade.

Pola Negri’s 1920s fashion

The first European actress to be invited to Hollywood, silent film star Pola was responsible for introducing all sorts of our favourite fashion and beauty trends to popular culture. She loved headgear, put fur boots on the fashion map and even introduced the world to the concept of red painted toenails.

Dorothy Mackaill’s 1920s fashion

As trousers for women became the norm, the androgynous look was the coolest trend to be seen in. Brit actress Dorothy worked a full tuxedo on the set of The Crystal Cup, making a style statement that women everywhere wanted to buy into.

Mary Pickford’s 1920s fashion

The square cut was the neckline of the decade, flattening the bust line after years of ample cleavage in corsets. Co-founder of film studio United Arts, Mary Pickford was a 1920s heroine for women at work, and a power-dressing one at that.

Anita Page’s 1920s fashion

Queen of pearls Anita, pictured below right with actresses Joan Crawford and Dorothy Sebastian for the film Our Dancing Daughters, reportedly received 35,000 fan letters in a week during her heyday. Remember folks, these were the times when fan-girls didn’t have Twitter or emojis to express their love for a star, so these were physical, hand-written notes of adoration. Amazing, right?

Jean Arthur 1920s fashion

Jean was the 1920s’ too cool style icon and queen of screwball comedy. She was publicity shy – ‘I’d rather have slit my throat’ than do an interview – and worked an androgynous slick look. Think crisp white shirts and relaxed tailored trousers here.

Fay Wray 1920s fashion

Before she became an international superstar in 1933’s King Kong, Fay was a young flapper girl with a penchant for Art Deco jewellery like no other. Just look at that gorgeous choker and all of those stencil-like bracelets.

Zelda Fitzgerald 1920s fashion

Mr Gatsby himself, author F. Scott Fitzgerald declared his novelist wife Zelda to be ‘the first American Flapper.’ Her creativity, independence and attitude were exactly what being a flapper girl was all about. You didn’t think it was only about those glitzy dresses now, did you?

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coolemmalee-blog · 8 years ago

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Let's Talk About Princess Zelda's New Look

While she’s worn more than one outfit over the years, Princess Zelda’s pink dress is her most well-known sartorial choice. In the new trailer for Breath of the Wild from last night’s Nintendo Switch presentation, we got a closer look at Zelda’s outfit in the game, as well as the Amiibo accompanying the game. She’s in… Read more…

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niledot · 8 years ago

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The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild’s first DLC pack adds new outfits and a hard mode

Nintendo has lifted the lid on the first downloadable content pack for The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, showing off new items, armor, and outfits, as well as a new difficulty mode that will make the game’s enemies tougher to beat.

The new sartorial options include the imposing Phantom armor — heavy purple plate that gives Link demon-esque horns — and a mask that will shudder whenever a…

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techholo · 8 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://www.techholo.com/2017/05/02/the-legend-of-zelda-breath-of-the-wilds-first-dlc-pack-adds-new-outfits-and-a-hard-mode/

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild’s first DLC pack adds new outfits and a hard mode

The new sartorial options include the imposing Phantom armor — heavy purple plate that gives Link demon-esque horns — and a mask that will shudder whenever a Korok is nearby. There are also nods to older Zelda games, including the helmet sported by Twilight Princess’ Midna, the Majora’s Mask (from Majora’s Mask), and the unsettling green onesie worn by creepy series stalwart Tingle.

DLC Pack 1 also introduces the Hero’s Path mode: a map feature that shows specifically where players have…

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ricardosousalemos · 8 years ago

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Pet Shop Boys: Behaviour

Pet Shop Boys arrived in the second half of the ’80s to out-gay essentially everybody. Combining Oscar Wilde-ian wit, compositional and lyrical sophistication that harkened back to Cole Porter and Noël Coward, sartorial style that split the difference between uptown chic (singer Neil Tennant) and downtown rough trade (keyboardist Chris Lowe), and a command of ’80s club music that soon proved itself far more comprehensive than most of their contemporaries, this North England-raised/London-based synthpop duo aestheticized gay life long before Tennant came out in 1994. Every LGBT person knew exactly what the pair meant in the chorus of “It’s A Sin,” arguably the angriest and certainly most overtly anti-Catholic chorus ever to top the UK pop chart and reach the US Top 10:

“Everything I’ve ever done

Everything I ever do

Every place I’ve ever been

Everywhere I’m going to

It’s a sin”

But after becoming one of the most internationally prominent acts of the ’80s with hits like their UK/US #1 “West End Girls,” Tennant and Lowe entered the ’90s knowing their “imperial phase” of uninterrupted success was over: Setting “Ché Guevara and Debussy to a disco beat,” their quintessential manifesto “Left to My Own Devices” stalled at #84 on Billboard’s pop chart in late ’88; their ’89 collaboration with Liza Minnelli, Results, pretty much flopped in North America beyond gay dancefloors, and the ’90 comeback they helped helm for Dusty Springfield, Reputation, didn’t even get a US release—despite all of them doing quite well in the UK.

Following these alternately sunny and frosty records, they released their decidedly autumnal fourth album Behaviour in the fall of 1990. Like the Cure’s Disintegration, Depeche Mode’s Violator, and George Michael’s Listen Without Prejudice, it would transition their creators into the new decade by both refining and breaking from the past. The time was right, for the duo and indeed much of its following were now in mourning. Singer/lyricist Tennant’s longtime best friend had recently died of AIDS. So had Robert Mapplethorpe, who shot some of their Please-period publicity photos, and Keith Haring, who similarly intersected fine art and the club scene. Reported US AIDS cases were well over 100,000, with millions on the way globally, and despite the earliest AIDS drugs like AZT, which in those days often made people sicker, an HIV-positive test result was still pretty much a death sentence. Created in resistance to a mainstream that treated LGBTs as subhuman, the queer culture of defiance and liberation that shaped ’70s disco and much of ’80s pop—particularly PSB’s hybrid of both—was literally dying.

Unfolding like an elegy for much of what had gone before, Behaviour shifted the Boys from sly commentators to reserved-but-pained participants, with its understated but devastating lead track, “Being Boring.” The first verse presents the singer looking through keepsakes, as one does after losing a loved one. He finds a party invite paraphrasing Zelda Fitzgerald’s “Eulogy on the Flapper,” specifically the line “She refused to be bored chiefly because she wasn’t boring.” Boredom was a prickly subject for the pair: Their early deadpan videos and TV appearances were routinely dismissed by clueless critics as generating it.

Set in the ’70s, the next verse depicts the singer leaving his hometown, a mandatory rite of LGBT passage. He softly declares, “I’d bolted through a closing door,” an image evoking both the end of his closeted adolescence and the beginning of fully realized adulthood. By the third verse, which is set in the ’90s, the singer is self-actualized, but reflective: “All the people I was kissing/Some are here, and some are missing.” That simple rhyme still reduces gay men who lived through this era to tears, for AIDS had sorted our intimates into these two categories—those who died young, and those who might soon follow suit, including ourselves. If you hadn’t seen your gay neighbors and friends and former sexual partners around town, chances were they were dead, had gone home to die, or were nursing the dying just like you. “But I thought in spite of dreams,” the survivor sings of his fallen pal, “you’d be sitting somewhere here with me.”

Fashion photographer Bruce Weber shot the song’s lush B&W video, which features models enacting a fantasy version of the parties Tennant attended in the ’70s. The tension between the freedom of Weber’s imagery and the sadness of the third verse makes the eulogy even more devastating, but some fleeting nudity meant that MTV in America had an excuse not to show it. Still, “Being Boring”—ostensibly a dance track, but one featuring fluttering rhythms, a Larry Heard-style deep house bassline that appears only as the album version fades out, a subtle upward chorus modulation that adds sweetness to the sorrow, and a whirring plastic tube conjuring spectral cries—eventually earned its rightful acclaim. A fan site solely devoted to it dwarfs the official web presence of many bands, and on its 20th anniversary, a Guardian critic proclaimed it the greatest single of all time. Even Axl Rose allegedly bemoaned its non-appearance during the duo’s 1991 tour.

That tour, Performance, their first in North America, transformed the staginess of their videos into opulent theater just as Blonde Ambition did for Madonna the year before; in the Pets’ case, it was so over-budget that the well-attended trek still lost half-a-million dollars. And just as the autobiographical Like a Prayer fed Blonde Ambition, the personal nature of Behaviour lent Performance pathos. The dirge that opened the show, “This Must Be the Place I Waited Years to Leave,” affirmed that, like Madonna, Tennant suffered major Catholic damage. The tune is hummable, but the tone intersects opera and Joy Division as it evokes Catholic mass, freezing rain, and grey architecture. No wonder the Pets eschewed the church for wit and disco.

True to their queer sensibility, PSB are intrinsically contrary, even with themselves, and just as their previous release, 1988’s Introspective, is all 12”-length dance numbers, Behaviour is mostly ballads. Even on overt club cuts, its lead single “So Hard” and “The End of the World,” the dance grooves that defined the duo are muted: No more big ’80s drums, no electro rumble or hi-NRG clatter, even if “So Hard” ramps up the trademark orchestral blasts of their previous hits. Rather than the sample-heavy rave bleeps that ruled 1990 UK pop, the album favors analogue synths overseen by co-producer Harold Faltermeyer, the Munich synth whiz who’d been Giorgio Moroder’s key player and had scored with Beverly Hills Cop’s “Axel F.”

But though the instrumentation is mostly as synthetic as before, it’s less pointedly so; the future was no longer as inviting as it had been in the duo’s formative years, when they dreamt of man-machines and home computers. Embracing their humanism to mirror their messages, the pair often blur the boundaries between synthetic and natural sounds: Mirroring the instability of post-communist Russia, “My October Symphony” fuses banging Italo-house piano, “Funky Drummer” syncopation, Marvin Gaye-esque yearning, and the classical strings of Balanescu Quartet, which all blend with the Prophets and Rolands and Marr’s wah-wah guitar so seamlessly that the hybrid suggests Shostakovich going Blaxploitation. You certainly couldn't call it just “synthpop.”

In the booklet for the album’s 2001 deluxe reissue, Tennant paints the unabashed love aria “To Face the Truth” as the story of a man who cannot acknowledge his girlfriend’s infidelities. But like so many PSB songs, it makes more sense in an LGBT context; that his lover is a bisexual who dodges their emotional bond. Having same-gender sex dictates that you’re homosexual, but loving someone of your own gender makes you gay—a step too far for some. “I wonder if you care and cannot bear the proof/It hurts too much to face the truth,” Tennant croons at the top of his tenor. Having just worked with Liza and Dusty, he’d suddenly become a more expressive singer, one here as adept at conveying sincerity as he’d always been at generating irony. The programmed rhythms hail from ’80s R&B, but his vocal is ’70s Bee Gees; had this been on the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack, we’d all know it.

Lyrically the most old-school PSB-y song of the lot, “How Can You Expect to Be Taken Seriously?” roasts sanctimonious rock stars who claim to hate fame’s machinations but nevertheless align themselves with the trendiest causes. There’d been plenty of those in the wake of Band Aid, Live Aid, Farm Aid, and “We Are the World,” and they pretty much wiped out the more subversive and often queer “New Pop” movement that spawned the Pets. The album version is set atypically to a New Jack Swing beat, the kind that gave even Boy George a US R&B radio hit with “Don’t Take My Mind on a Trip” the year before, but the seldom heard single/video version remixed it into a more flattering Soul II Soul-style shuffle. Back home, its critique was bolstered by appearing on the flipside of their newly recorded medley of U2’s “Where the Streets Have No Name” and the Four Seasons’ “I Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You,” which echoed Boys Town Gang’s shamelessly camp disco-ization of the latter. Bono, who spotted the satirical finger being pointed in his direction, quipped, “What have we done to deserve this?”

As straightforward as “Seriously” is skewed, album closer “Jealousy” goes furthest in a quasi-symphonic direction. Played on keyboards but booming like a massive orchestra, it’s fraught with romantic angst like their earliest work, yet it suits their new phase of unfettered emotionality. The scene-setting opening conjures the outsized ardor of 19th-century art song: “At dead of night when strangers roam/The streets in search of anyone who’ll take them home/I lie alone…” And the rest similarly picks up where Scott Walker’s covers of Jacques Brel left off.

A crooner, not a belter, Tennant sets his vocal understatement against the over-the-top nature of his blinding passion for an unrequited love. This conflict mirrors the LGBT experience itself: You’ve got all this desire that must somehow be contained to a small percentage of the population, lest you find yourself making a pass at someone who might not share your sexuality and who might respond with condemnation or even violence. So you keep your outer voice small and whispery like Tennant’s, but that constant monitoring and muting only intensifies your inner life, and so you bear the burden of these feelings—here represented by the grandness of the orchestration the despair of the descending vocal melody, the processional horns that bear a stubbornly regal retreat. There’s no apology implied—quite the opposite.

Simpatico women understand this proud juxtaposition: Liza Minnelli considers Tennant and Lowe geniuses akin to Broadway maestro Stephen Sondheim or her dad. Pet Shop Boys critique masculinity the way classic rock bands exude it, but rather than the flamboyance that’s intrinsic to the gay pop star from Little Richard onward, PSB offer the calm control of the outsider looking in, their noses pressed against the shop window.

Having experienced worldwide eminence exactly when their people fell into deeper crisis than ever, they rarely took the easy path, and on subsequent releases like Very’s “Dreaming of the Queen,” they imagined a world in which there were no more lovers left alive. Fortunately, people kept dancing, and Pet Shop Boys still supply their nocturnal soundtrack. Last month, Billboard announced PSB as the all-time top male act on its dance club chart: With last year’s “The Pop Kids,” they landed their 40th hit on that list in 30 years, and 11th No. 1. That they did so with a song as wistful as those on Behaviour makes this achievement truly singular. Embracing disposable pop, they’ve created lasting queer culture just as it was in danger of disappearing. They celebrate the melancholia of being gay.

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