#the aesthetics of “exploration” and conquest

[8cfc00]

i think the aesthetics and vibes of the combination/fusion of eastern (asian) and western cultures is really cool and sexy and i'm not biased at all

[jeandejard3n]

The Planet of the Apes: We finally really did it

[journalofanoldsoul]

Voulez-Vous Coucher Avec Moi Ce Soir ? (Lilith Edition)

Lilith represents a primal, instinctual energy in astrology, and understanding its influence on one's sexual style can provide insights into their desires and sensuality.

Lilith in Aries: The primal desire with Lilith in Aries is for independence, excitement, and passion. Individuals with this placement have a strong and assertive sexual style, driven by their desire for conquest and adventure. They enjoy taking charge and initiating sexual encounters, embracing a fiery and impulsive sensuality.

Lilith in Taurus: The primal desire with Lilith in Taurus is for sensory pleasure, sensuality, and physical indulgence. Individuals with this placement have a grounded and earthy sexual style, appreciating the pleasures of touch, taste, and smell. They value intimacy, comfort, and may have a more languid and indulgent approach to sexuality.

Lilith in Gemini: The primal desire with Lilith in Gemini is for mental stimulation, variety, and intellectual connection. Individuals with this placement have a curious and communicative sexual style, driven by their desire for mental and verbal connection. They enjoy playful exploration, engaging in sexual banter, and seeking novelty in their encounters.

Lilith in Cancer: The primal desire with Lilith in Cancer is for emotional intimacy, nurturing, and vulnerability. Individuals with this placement have a deeply sensitive and nurturing sexual style, prioritizing emotional connection and creating a safe and secure environment. They seek comfort and emotional closeness in their sexual encounters.

Lilith in Leo: The primal desire with Lilith in Leo is for self-expression, creativity, and passionate experiences. Individuals with this placement have a bold and dramatic sexual style, seeking to be the center of attention and expressing their desires with confidence and flair. They enjoy playful and theatrical experiences that ignite their passions.

Lilith in Virgo: The primal desire with Lilith in Virgo is for perfection, detail, and exploration. Individuals with this placement have an analytical and meticulous sexual style, paying attention to every detail and seeking to perfect their technique. They appreciate cleanliness and hygiene, and may have a more reserved and controlled approach to sexuality.

Lilith in Libra: The primal desire with Lilith in Libra is for harmony, balance, and aesthetic pleasure. Individuals with this placement have a sensual and elegant sexual style, valuing connection, beauty, and romance. They seek mutual pleasure and strive for equality and fairness in their sexual encounters.

Lilith in Scorpio: The primal desire with Lilith in Scorpio is for intensity, power, and deep emotional connection. Individuals with this placement have a passionate and transformative sexual style, embracing their primal instincts and delving into the depths of desire. They crave intense emotional and sexual experiences.

Lilith in Sagittarius: The primal desire with Lilith in Sagittarius is for adventure, freedom, and expansion. Individuals with this placement have an explorative and adventurous sexual style, seeking new experiences and embracing a sense of freedom in their sexuality. They enjoy spontaneity, variety, and may have a more casual approach to relationships.

Lilith in Capricorn: The primal desire with Lilith in Capricorn is for achievement, control, and structured experiences. Individuals with this placement have a disciplined and ambitious sexual style, valuing control and focusing on achieving their sexual goals. They may have a more reserved and practical approach to sexuality.

Lilith in Aquarius: The primal desire with Lilith in Aquarius is for individuality, experimentation, and intellectual connection. Individuals with this placement have an unconventional and open-minded sexual style, embracing their uniqueness and seeking out innovative and progressive experiences. They value mental stimulation and intellectual connection.

Lilith in Pisces: The primal desire with Lilith in Pisces is for transcendence, fantasy, and emotional connection. Individuals with this placement have a deeply emotional and dreamy sexual style, seeking to dissolve boundaries and connect on a spiritual level. They enjoy fantasy, sensuality, and may have a more fluid and intuitive approach to sexuality.

Please note that these descriptions provide general insights into the sexual style associated with each Lilith sign, but individuals' experiences may vary based on their complete birth chart and personal preferences.

Stay tune for more astro posts.

xoxo J.

[fistfuloflightning]

ooohh sqh x qqq huh? hell ya I'm intrigued. speak on that 👀

Oooh late reply! Was not expecting someone to be interested in this lol.

So. Shang Qinghua and Qi Qingqi. Another  of my SVSSS rarepairs that have like five fics out there and unfortunately nothing of quality (I’ll take plot and character development over porn without plot any day).

My fondness for this ship started out as an aesthetics choice (and also because MoShang dynamics just make me feel uncomfortable) and because most of QQQ’s available ships were with her disciples (again, not a fan of that trope). They’re both fun, fascinating characters in their own right and I just like to explore them outside of fandom’s common views of them and how they’d act in aus. And somehow they would up in the same mental folder and the rest is history lol.

As someone who treated most of his female characters like cardboard cutouts, having one of those characters hand SQH his ass and give him a lesson in respecting women is something that probably sticks with him. She probably sees him as a sniveling pushover, but the longer they (reluctantly) spend in each others company, the more she gets the irritating urge to protect the little rat. All it takes to trip them into something more than ust-filled arguments is one bad joint mission that ends in them being sex-pollened and having to work through it together…

I see it being a physical relationship before they reach any true/deep emotional bonding.

But when they do finally get there, I can see QQQ being incredibly protective of him even while guilt is eating him alive for his knowledge that he’s betraying their sect (betraying her). In a no System au, SQH chucks his mission out the window and there goes half the plot of his book over a character that he’d intended to be a ten page conquest for the Protagonist and that turned out to be the only person keeping him sane.

Idk I just like me the kind of angst canon doesn’t provide. Thank you for your interest!! Hope this answered some of the questions you had…unless you had more? 👀 

[elbiotipo]

Someone in the notes on your post about food in fantasy mentioned connection between at least early modern production of sugar and colonialism and slavery, and while I 100% agree that it's something that should be known, I think that if you want to have lighthearted fantasy setting there are definitely ways to work around this.

Like sugar is also produced from sugar beet. I don't know could it be done without modern equipment (production started at the very end of 18th century so while industrial equipment was primitive it was), but like you may do something with it, like some wizards developing production technology.

In the same vein, crop exchange in the Old World was mostly peaceful, or at least it wasn't due to slavery. Like rice was already grown in Egypt in 1000 BCE and made its way to Spain by 7th century CE. Bananas were grown in Turkey by 15th century CE. And tons of agricultural goods come from West Asia both ways. What I am trying to say is that if your world has equivalent of Americas your Europeans* could have just acquired potatoes and corn without colonization (because they were more ethical than irl or because they didn't have resources for conquest or because American nations were strong enough to stop them). Like potatoes and such are just crops, sailors could have picked them as a supplies and then someone decided to grow them at home.

This is like a suggestion specifically if you want to have a world for costume drama without dealing with heavy themes. I would suggest describing it specifically to point that out, and I can't say that it's very politically aware but definitely not worse than "they just have it" or "yes there are overseas colonies but pay it no mind".

*Because that's usually the case in examples that are discussed, from what I heard East Asian fantasy set in East Asia also suffers from this for the same reason, but I didn't read enough of it to say

Let me say you make real good points and I broadly agree with you. I do think the history of colonialism and where our foods came from is important (I do research that so no doubt). And I also agree that sometimes, those themes are too difficult to board properly, especially in a lighthearted story.

However, in fiction, it's not so much that I want people to do more "clean" ways of getting those crops. Many people told me "well, what if they get it through trade, or what if they got it through magical portals and such" my point is not that you find a "colonialist free" way to have potatoes in your setting, my point is that every crop in real life has a history behind them, and when you place them in your setting, I think you should consider that. Not only because you will learn about real life and its history, but also because of the storytelling potential.

I mean, I do have "worldbuilding fundamentalist" in my bio, and I think even if you don't sketch the entire world, you should at least know where your heroes are. Much of modern fantasy loves to adopt the "medieval" aesthetic, while in fact presenting a world with widespread trade, urbanization, a growing artisan class, etc. (I've done a longer rant about it here). Those things aren't just aesthetic choices, they are different societies that have different dynamics and they do affect the kind of plots and characters you might make on them.

I don't think fantasy should shy away from exploring themes such as imperialism and colonialism, trade and politics, intercultural contact and social change. One reason why I'm so insistent with the theme of crops and trade is that it's because it's emblematic of those issues. Sure, you don't want to explain the potatoes or chocolate in your setting, whatever. Don't you WANT to, though? Don't you want to explore beyond the pseudo-medieval aesthetic, and explore what an American or African -inspired setting might look like? Of course, you could and should also make your own new settings, but exploring actual history, geography, biology (at the broadest term, natural history) will make you a better worldbuilder and a better writer, AND also let you learn more about the world.

Sorry if this rant is a bit unfocused, just woke up from a nap after some wine, but this is why I'm so insistent with the stories that can arise just by considering the crops in your setting. Imagine what else can you write.

[random-thought-depository]

Brett Devereaux made an observation about Dune that I really like: that Paul Atreides and Feyd Rautha Harkonnen were probably raised with very similar values.

This isn't exactly a ship in the usual fandom sense of the word, but I think it'd be interesting to see this explored in an AU fanfic where Paul and Feyd Rautha somehow team up at the end of Dune.

I think what'd work really well for this is a scenario where Feyd Rautha somehow gets control over House Harkonnen and swears loyalty/vassalage to Paul, adding effective control over House Harkonnen to Paul's portfolio at the end of Dune.

I think that'd have really crunchy social and emotional dynamics that'd fit really well with the theme here. Paul has spent years hating the Harkonnens and seeking revenge on them for the death of his father and a lot of the surviving remnant of Paul's own house have pretty similar feelings, and now here's Feyd Rautha saying to Paul "The armies of my house await your orders, my lord," and Feyd and his Harkonnen buddies are now hanging out at Paul's court and hobnobbing with Paul and the rest of his court. If Gurney Halleck and Duncan Idaho are alive in this scenario I bet they'd hate this and there'd be some pretty tense moments when they have to collaborate with their Harkonnen opposite numbers.

Atreides and Harkonnen generals collaborating to plan the Jihad with kinda shitlib vs. MAGA chud vibe tension where the Atreides have thinking of themselves as the side of good as an important part of their self-image while the Harkonnens tend to be more casually bloodthirsty and sadistic but this is arguably more a difference in aesthetics than anything substantive, when crunch time comes they can put these cultural differences aside and collaborate surprisingly easily on shared goals because they're actually fundamentally similar people with fundamentally similar worldviews and values, molded by fundamentally similar institutions.

Feyd Rautha becoming one of Paul's closest subordinates and kind of his friend in a weird way cause they're actually fundamentally similar people and useful to each other.

I think Feyd is supposed to still be pretty young at the end of Dune, so this might work better if Paul is a bit less lucky in his campaign against the Harkonnens, delaying the events of the end of Dune by a few years but ultimately not preventing them, or something like that, IDK.

I think if I were writing this the closest I'd take this to shipping in the common fandom sense is Paul and Feyd end up kind of in a wife-loaning polycule with Irulan, though one that's asexual on Paul's side. Basically at some point Irulan and Paul have a conversation that's basically a more refined version of this:

IRULAN: "Hey, I'm tired of living a life of involuntary celibacy cause you need a political marriage to me but won't have sex with me because of your issues. Can you just wife-loan me to one of your right-hand men if you're gonna be so complicated?"

PAUL: "Fine, sure. The usual rules will apply: keep it on the down-low and don't get pregnant."

IRULAN: "Fine."

PAUL: "Did you have any candidates in mind? If not, might I suggest Utrecht or Hakim?"

IRULAN: "I AM NOT SLEEPING WITH AN UNBATHED DESERT BARBARIAN! ... Feyd is kind of hot, I guess... I'll take him!"

PAUL: "That arrangement would be perfectly acceptable to me. Pending Feyd's agreement, we have a deal. I'll discuss this matter with him tonight, after I've discussed with him the deposition of his house troops in the conquest expedition I'll be launching against the Megara worlds. I think he'll agree."

IRULAN: "Great!"

I have had one or two or three little ideas for a Dune fanfic but have never figured out what the plot would be. I suppose now if I ever actually write a Dune fanfic, it'll probably be about this premise.

I guess in a way it might be fridge brilliance that this didn't happen in the actual books, cause this is a lot like the relationship between Leto II and Farad'n at the end of Children of Dune and Farad'n reads to me as a mirror to Paul in the same way Feyd is, and the arc of the Dune novels up to God-Emperor of Dune is Leto II could do what Paul couldn't bring himself to do, so Leto II being able to co-opt Farad'n while Paul couldn't co-opt Feyd would fit with that.

[waterloggedsoliloquy]

Ikuhara: [...]I think I made it thinking "this is 'hobby'". Wanting diecast car models, wanting Chogokin toys, wanting a Lamborghini Countach, wanting a Ferrari. Or in the end, to want "the world", these are all "hobby". In the minds of boys who want "hobby", even girls don't exist as more than a "hobby". But it feels very sad to put away every behavior that tries to realize a dream under the word "hobby"! (laugh) For example, I think the things that Steve Jobs say are also basically "hobby". The desire to rule the world of personal computers using your own sense of aesthetics, as a story that's very cool and full of romance, but if you examine it more carefully you'll find it's the "hobby" world. He wants toys that rule the world.

Kotani: The "hobby" world is like, the pleasure of possession.

Ikuhara: As a man, I try to avoid realizing when what I'm doing is "hobby" (laugh), and just try to advertise how hard I work, probably… The things I want are no different from Chogokin and Countachs. So when I talk about how I struggle and how I labor, and then a girl just instantly says "in the end, you just want toys" that really hurts (laugh). [...] Conversely, I feel like girls don't really have "hobby". For example, boys might want Sailor Moon dolls too, but in that case it's only because they want to to collect them. That's "hobby". But girls think about how to play with the doll, combing the hair or changing clothes and so on. Psychological projection.

Kotani: It becomes an action, a process.

--This excerpt is from Disturbing, Traversing, Borderless, Shaking Sexuality: The Place where Revolutionary Girl Utena was Born, graciously hosted on Empty Movement and translated by Youzicha!

I know that a couple of Thrawn fans from the EU era have spoken about how they do not like that Thrawn was turned into a looter in the new canon-- he not only analyzes art but participates in colonial theft by stealing art from occupied lands and people-- but I like it. I think it's an extremely interesting thing to explore. i think that possession as an expression of masculinity is inextricably tied to the machismo of fascism. I keep saying machismo. What do I mean by that? Why this specific word? I'm borrowing from Umberto Eco again, because his essay on the matter is so succinct. He says as such:

Since both permanent war and heroism are difficult games to play, the Ur-Fascist transfers his will to power to sexual matters. This is the origin of machismo (which implies both disdain for women and intolerance and condemnation of nonstandard sexual habits, from chastity to homosexuality). Since even sex is a difficult game to play, the Ur-Fascist hero tends to play with weapons — doing so becomes an ersatz phallic exercise.

This is his art and it's also his status as a Grand Admiral with an Imperial Star Destroyer, with his pet TIE Defender Project, even with people-- his proteges. The act of possession in and of itself is a status symbol. Thrawn knows art so if he Owns A Lot Of Art it makes him an Authority On Art. He gets to be the arbiter of what is and is not art; carefully saving said art from violence. It 'justifies' the conquest while also still being a display of military potency. It's also a means to set himself above his philistine, xenophobic peers. (-@shipofthesis)

It creates rigid categories to sort things into. "These are Good Objects, these are Good Hobbies". Which means that there is an opposite, ontological Bad Object and Bad Hobby. The art worth saving (the things personally interesting/compelling/relevant to Thrawn) and conversely the art not worth saving-- and by proxy, their creators not worth saving, and can be colonized and killed without disrupting Thrawn's prerogatives. By removing the art from its culture of origin he becomes the de facto authority on it. No one's gonna go and ask the original creators. (-@shipofthesis) His interpretation of it-- and how that's useful for him-- becomes the canon. It's possession, it's entitlement, it's "hobby". His categorical need to be above everything makes even events and cultural histories (such as The Clone Wars) he had a personal involvement in seem material and detached.

"Mark Ones," [Rossi] murmured. Her voice carries the mix of tension and interest that indicates sudden understanding. Her hand makes a small movement toward her datapad, then stops. "Alright, I'll meet you halfway. We're due back at Ansion in three months. You can have until then to play with your toys." -Thrawn (2017)

[yiga-hellhole]

TWILIGHT FOREST, TWILIGHT KING UPDATE: PART 5

another huge whammy of an update. this time we’re exploring more of the interactions with YUGA!!! things kick into gear, and then back out of gear, to have some well-deserved downtime before the campaign on the eldin province. and of course our favorite nasty men bond. 13k words under the cut

ao3 mirror HERE!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Ghirahim cocked a brow at the curious figure so busily admiring him, bewildered yet charmed by his immense enthusiasm. “And yet I must insist! I’m afraid the Master has not yet given me the gift of your introduction,” he said. “I would very much like to put a name to my admirer.”

The strange man snapped out of his bout of fascination, and with a flourish, took a step back. “Where are my manners? Of course, Lord Ghirahim,” he curtsied, his arms, clutching his staff in one boney hand, spread to either side. “Yuga, High Sorcerer of the Kingdom of Lorule! I am very much looking forward to our cooperation. If the tales I’ve heard of your battling prowess are anywhere near as accurate as those of your stunning appearance, then we are firmly set on the path of glory, indeed.”

“You do so flatter me. I’m afraid I must disappoint you, though. As of late, I happen to be occupied,” Ghirahim laughed with a gesturing peek to Zant, fingers casually resting against his cheek in amusement.

Yuga scoffed, for a second looking almost disgusted. “Oh, please. Do not get ahead of yourself. My appreciation of your beauty is merely an aesthetic one. I have no intentions of pursuing anything so frivolous!”

Perturbed, he just grinned in return, shooting another quick glance at his still shut-away companion. Had that helmet not been blocking his view of his face, he might have caught a glimpse of the steam coming out of the Twilight King’s ears.

“I see! Well, then… What is it exactly you are pursuing, then?”

“Why, mere artistic intrigue! You have such delicate features, dear Lord,” Yuga dismissed his staff and clasped his hands together. “Have you ever considered having your portrait taken? I can see it now, you would be an absolute delight to paint.”

Now, Ghirahim’s impression of this man was skyrocketing. A portrait? Of him? Thinking about the past, he did remember how his likeness was portrayed by the people of the skies. Hideous, unflattering blotches of paint, making absolutely no attempt to depict him accurately. Meanwhile, such vanity was denied him by his own people, as, rightfully so, Master Demise was central in their so-abstract iconography. Naturally, the glory of such a powerful figure could do nothing but overshadow his measly importance in comparison! There had never been a need to deify him similarly, but…

This was different. He was now a commander of high standing, and Master Ganondorf seemed to grant him somewhat more of a spotlight in their conquest. Certainly, a portrait would not be too drastic to request..?

He blinked at the man again, looking him up and down. Certainly, he did strike him as a painter… Never had he met any artistic fellow that didn’t look horribly tacky and eccentric. If such correlations were to be believed, this harlequin-like figure must know what he was talking about.

“A delightful offer, certainly. My only problem is pinning down a proper moment for me to sit and pose… You must know, we are terribly busy.”

“Of course! I am well aware of my duties here, but surely we have some time here and there?”

Ghirahim’s eagerness to be flattered almost made him lose sight of his initial goal. Indeed, he did not come to find the man for small talk! “That we will, indeed, but today is not that day. Our Master has requested we walk you through the progress of our campaign thus far. If you would be so inclined, you ought to get yourself ready and head to the war room. Do you know where to find it?”

Yuga nodded. “Right off to work already? Ah, I adore such an efficient pace! Yes, I will gather my bearings, as you wish.” He awaited Ghirahim’s acknowledgement, before bowing his head as a polite gesture. “I expect to see you there, then,” he said with a smile, before trotting off toward the staircase.

The hall was cast in a deafening silence once their new associate left them to sort out his business, leaving Ghirahim and Zant to stand there thoroughly nonplussed. Well, if anything, Yuga had set a baseline of thorough friendliness, so he expected to find no more trouble in meshing with him throughout their mission. Zant, on the other hand…

Amused, Ghirahim brought a hand to his cheek, tapping a finger to his face in thought. “I daresay, Zant. When was the last time you complimented me like that? If I wasn’t so fond of you, you might have had competition.”

Zant’s head whipped around to him with such speed the metal of his helmet squeaked. “Unbelievable,” he exclaimed. “That is all you think of right now? This entire conversation, and he did not acknowledge me even once!”

Ghirahim laughed. “Oh, it’s terrible, I know. Forget about a third wheel, you weren’t even near the wagon,” he nudged him in the elbow playfully, but Zant did not share this amusement. “I suppose I do draw the eye.”

Zant grunted in annoyance, turning away from him at once. Silence befell the pair again, but Ghirahim did not relinquish his self-satisfied stare, boring holes in his co-lieutenants helmet. Whether he noticed this or not, Zant’s confidence whittled away nonetheless. “… Do you truly wish for me to praise you in such a way?”

A shriek of laughter burst out from him in response. This new ‘friend’ of theirs was truly making life so much more amusing, and it hadn’t even been ten minutes since they had met! Just this encounter alone had the menacing King of Shadows feeling jealous and insecure in his courtship. It was a delight. “Please, Zant. Can we discuss this later? You’ll kill me before we can teach our rookie the ropes!”

He was met with silence until Zant set off down the hall again. “Very well,” said Zant, the sharp snap of his metal soles against the tiles betraying an irritable mood.

“Oh, you’re mad at me, now?” Ghirahim tittered, unable to resist the opportunity to bully him, and fully embraced the snappy fit of bickering that came to follow…

Despite the pair’s now thoroughly acquired taste for shenanigans, they were still bound to their duty, especially in such a pressing situation. Master Ganondorf had given them the time window of tomorrow to introduce Yuga to their campaign, but they both knew that that was more the window he gave them until swift punishment was to come. By all means, it meant they should be ready by tonight. And if there was any place in Hyrule fit to orient any fledgling commander, it was the war room of Gerudo Palace. Ghirahim stepped nostalgically inside, squinting to adjust his eyes to the contrast of the torchlight and cavernlike darkness that blanketed the room. The place was made to be nigh impenetrable, which meant that it had been situated in the basement, not a speck of natural light entering it. Such a setup was preferable to their night-dwelling soldiers first of all, but also ensured such high security, not even a fly could enter unauthorized when the meetings were ongoing. The room was certainly imposing, and every time he stood in it he felt as much of an invigorating sense of devotion as he did when he first stepped inside. Banners and mosaics, depicting scenes from ages of Demon Kings long past and alternate adorned the walls, emblematic of Ganon’s forces. They had mostly been gifts from the sorceress, Cia, in an attempt to appease Ganondorf’s boundless fury and lust for power, but as things stood, his Master of course had simply pocketed them and chose to betray her either way. The real showstoppers, enshrined above an auxiliary throne to the north of the room, were depictions of Ganon during his time of victory, the once humanoid-appearing Demon King then twisted into a mighty, giant-tusked wild boar. The other mosaics were equally grand, and though they all depicted battles ultimately lost, they were not to be understood as attempts to sugarcoat his Master’s losses. Instead, they symbolized his unwavering tenacity, his endurance, and the inevitability of his return, no matter how many times his soul was sealed or ripped from the mortal realm. Ganondorf’s pride as a Gerudo was similarly celebrated through the antiquary of traditional weapons and armor displayed near the walls, showcasing his people’s mastery of smithing and fast-paced, efficient warfare. All golden helmets placed in the corners of the room gazed at the centerpiece of the room; the strategy table, a dark wooden surface that now stood empty, waiting to be covered in maps and pawns. 

Zant passed into the room before him and walked straight past the central table, instead browsing the shelves across the entrance. With astounding clarity, as though he had already figured out their exact steps, he began scooping map scrolls and various boxes of navigational pegs and tools into his lanky arms. Soon, he had spread the biggest essentials neatly across the table, and under Ghirahim’s watchful eye began dividing the first pegs to denote the advance of their skirmish thus far. Right as they were about to devise a way to summarize the past efforts of war, Yuga, indeed, found his way to the room and stood idly turning his flaming staff in his hands.

“You will have to forgive the delay, gentlemen. Those bokoblins of yours simply couldn’t figure out how I wanted my room!”

“Tell me about it,” Ghirahim groaned, before idly beckoning Yuga to approach the table. He quietly noted Zant’s mood dropping the instant their new coworker made himself known. How adorably juvenile! 

Yuga strutted his way on over, gait floaty and rhythmic as he bounded across the carpet, and came to a halt at Zant’s side of the table. Half-lidded eyes brought out his rainbow-layered eyeshadow immensely as his eyes scanned over the table, perusing the various maps and registers of stocks. “Oh, yes. You lot are certainly more organized than my previous team. I reckon we will take over the Valley in no time flat.”

Ghirahim but smiled at him, while Zant gave him not more acknowledgment than a brisk nod, and a short “indeed.” To prevent himself from getting annoyed, instead of endeared, by Zant’s indignant grumpiness, he quickly changed topics. With Zant’s assistance, they completed marking the keeps that they had captured on the maps and gave Yuga an overall run-down on their available troops and provisions. The summary was welcome to Ghirahim, as well, as, to be frank, other than the delightful memories he’d made of thrilling victories and near losses, he himself was losing track and had Zant do most of the talking during briefings. Invigorated by their talk, he assembled another stack of documents and was about to reach the next stage of their meeting. Alas, his enthusiasm was struck down quickly enough, because Yuga interjected.

“Ah, if I might be so bold. Before we are to discuss any future plans, I do have some of my own intel that will be most crucial to our advance,” he offered, hovering with the narrow end of his staff above the map, using it as a pointer. 

Zant hummed. “By all means, continue.”

“Now, it is still in the works, but on my way here from the northeast, I heard tell of an ambush from the Zora preparing to take our flanks during our next advance,” Yuga daintily tapped the end of his staff on the map. “They will surface from the water somewhere north of the lake, and skirt the river to strike right at the edge of Death Mountain. They will be led by Princess Ruto, and some rumor General Impa will assist. Though, personally, I find it very unlikely she will leave the Hylian Princess’ side for even a minute.”

Ghirahim leaned on the table, peering down at the trail Yuga had laid out. “This is valuable information. You ought to have led with that, I’d say!” He laughed, only to be met with a contemplative purse of the new lieutenant’s lips. 

“I thought it wise to gauge our resources first, is all! That way we can get right to the planning.”

Zant had not responded yet. He simply loomed over the table, staring at the map. “That will not be a problem,” he suddenly said, with the same grave clarity he had every meeting. “I propose the following,” he gestured with his own designated pointer at the map, drawing a trail from their pinnacle keep in Eldin to the north. “You join us in our trek through Eldin, but split off to intercept their ambush. There is another entrance to the Eldin cave system that leads near Lake Hylia; I trust you are familiar with it?”

Yuga nodded. “Oh, yes. It’s how I got here.”

“Excellent. You split off with your troops to intercept them at the edge of Hyrule Field, where I suspect they will surface to organize their formation. It will be wisest to allot you a sizable company of Lizalfos, who will be able to chase the Zora even as they retreat into the water.”

Yuga, who hadn’t given Zant as much as a glance before, was now paying great attention to him, eyes increasingly gaining a spark of captivation. Ghirahim, too, found himself once again swept away by the vividness of Zant’s plotting.

“While you are there, I request you dedicate several platoons to the capturing of King Dodongos.”

Yuga cocked his head, turning his gaze from the map to Zant’s helmet. “Dodongos? As far as I know, those linger on Death Mountain, no?”

“In this world, there is a pseudo-aquatic variant. For the time being, two will suffice. We will need as many beasts as we can throw at them,” Zant said with candid eagerness. As cold and calculating as he might be, Ghirahim came to know that such brutish assaults remained one of his guilty pleasures.

“I see! Very well, that all sounds feasible.”

They continued plotting the specifics for about an hour or so. Ghirahim was once again out of his element, somewhat, but to his comfort, Yuga appeared similarly overwhelmed. Much like him, he was used to bossing around smaller groups, while any further strategy was limited to simply letting loose a random number of monsters on unsuspecting Hylians. This comforting level of peerage at least soothed his biting feeling of incompetence a little bit. Still, one thing bugged him. Their last advance, they were thwarted by the sudden appearance of one of the Hyruleans' higher commanders. With the injuries they inflicted upon Midna, she would likely be out of commission for some time. Yuga’s arrival may have given them an advantage in that regard, but even then, it was three against… At least eleven, at this point. Cia may have been whittling away at them at another front, but in her exacerbating madness, she was no longer reliable. Not to mention, while Zant admitted to having acted carelessly at the time, it took both of them to take down just one of the enemy’s higher commanders. As good-natured as they might claim to be, the Hyruleans may have caught on to the weakness that emotional turmoil brought upon Zant, arguably their most terrifying commander, and sought to exploit it. Ghirahim worried, idly, what they would throw at them next, and if perhaps he would be targeted this time around. Nevertheless, chipping away at team morale was the last thing he wanted to do, especially in front of their rookie. Such worries would have to be left for another time.

With their negotiations wrapping up, each lieutenant retreated to their individual duties for the day. For Ghirahim, this meant another afternoon spent in the training fields. As the resident master swordsman (though quite a few ranks below his Master, still), it was his duty to perfect the form and technique among their troops. This proved to be somewhat difficult, as by far not all their troops actually wielded blades. Furthermore, the sheer differences in anatomical proportions between all their rich types of troops proved to be quite a challenge. Still, he had many a trick up his sleeve, as there was a clever method of striking available to all, no matter how stubby their legs or the count of their fingers. By far his favorites to train were the twilit Darknuts, not to speak of the elegant and disciplined desert warriors of the Gerudo. Frankly, he hardly had to teach them a thing, but their eagerness to learn new techniques and to spar with him caused his pride to swell and soar. Where other people might prefer to wind down for the day with an idle evening tide hobby, Ghirahim found the best way to ease his frustrations to be a good tussle out in the dust. It was bullying, frankly. Unless they played dirty, none of their troops stood a chance against him; and of course, everyone held him in too high esteem to try taking potshots at their commander. The battlefield was his dancefloor, one he glided through in ferocious choreography. His feet rhythmically striding across the beaten dirt, he used nothing but his hands to deflect the flurry of swords advancing on him. Blades screeched to a halt between his fingertips and chipped when bouncing off against his metal body; he needed only flick his wrist to disarm even the most frothing beasts from their weapons. He was in peak form once again, now that the ache of cursed magic no longer ailed him. No weapon could harm him, slicing through his false skin as they may, littering his body with a hatching pattern of facsimile injuries. The glittering black and white of his true form were slowly unveiled to the world around him, dazzling the nearest troops with the scorching sunlight refracting off of him. Straps of his clothing tore off of him in the scuffle. Any other time he would be angry, but oh, he had just so much fun like this, and it could all be made right with swift jabs of his elbows to the teeth of the offenders, stomps on their toes, or kicks in their groins. Others may leave this battlefield battered and bruised, but he was looking forward to leaving it a new man. Gradually, those brave enough to try and face him grew fewer and fewer, intimidated by the sheer number of monsters backing away from him, limping or not. He panted, a smile stretched across his face as he retracted his excitably lolling tongue back into his mouth. 

“It was a decent effort you all have put in today,” he spoke, straightening his posture as he referred to the crowd around him. “But next time, I expect far more of a challenge out of you! Look at yourselves, and I haven’t even broken a sweat!” Hundreds of beady eyes looked back down at him, sheepishly nodding berated yet determined, and the lot of them turned back to the barracks to nurse their injuries. These brutes knew only the rule of the strongest, and lithe as he might be, he once again firmly seated himself at the top of their hierarchy. Perhaps one of these days, he ought to invite Zant or Yuga to come spar with him, and see where they landed in the pecking order… For the time being, he ought to change into his more presentable threads, before the dinner bell could summon them back to the halls.

The sun was slowly setting as he entered the mess hall, clad in his open-backed body suit and a shawl lazily draped over his arms. He only ever hung around here as an excuse to socialize; he did not need to eat, but the distant sounds of merrymaking tended to make him furious was he not involved in them. As usual, he entered it alone, though he quickly heard an unfamiliar footfall coming up behind him as he stood waiting at the doorway. Behind him, of course, was his admirer — the one he wasn’t romantically involved with, that is. He turned to see Yuga, too, had changed into more leisurely clothing. Though he was as gaudily caked in cosmetics as before, his layering was far less obnoxious. This time, he simply wore a flowing dark robe, adorned with subtly shimmering tyrian purple patterns. Small beads glittered on the outlines of the inverted triforce emblems on the fabric, almost delightfully tasteful compared to his previous attempts at dressing himself. Hands daintily clasped in front of him, he addressed Ghirahim with a smile. 

“Lord Ghirahim! What a joy it is to see you again, not to speak of getting a glimpse of your extended wardrobe!”

At least someone gave him his well-deserved attention. “The sentiment is quite mutual, Lord Yuga. I take it you have settled well?”

Yuga nodded pleasantly, his massive curls bouncing under the motion. “Oh, yes. All is in perfect order,” he purred, before his eye contact was, with visible struggle, broken, his eyes instead wandering around the mess hall. “Shall we be seated? I reckon it will be much easier to converse over a warm meal.”

Ghirahim hummed in thought, peeking for a moment back into the hallway. Unfortunately, he did not find what he expected — no one else appeared to be coming. “Ah, well,” he started, “it appears Zant hasn’t quite arrived yet. It would be best if we sit at the darker end of the table, so that he may join us later.”

Yuga’s smile cracked just a bit at the mention of the Twilight King’s name. “Right, Zant.”

It was evident Yuga did not care much for the Twili’s company. From their very first encounter, he seemed to ignore him completely, only giving him the slightest bit of recognition during their strategy briefing. Disliking Zant was terrifically easy, but Ghirahim was deathly curious how he could have immediately developed a disdain for him before having spoken to him even once. Perhaps he could tease it out over dinner? “Oh? Do you dislike him?” he queried, bringing a hand to his cheek as he made his way over to the grand table reserved for their commanders. 

Yuga followed him obediently but let out a conflicted sigh. “Oh, I shan’t gossip on my first day! For now, I have��� Some respect for him as a commander, nothing more, nothing less.”

So there was something that awakened his ire! What a delicious development. They approached the table, bowing in respect for their Master who sat at the center overlooking the mess hall, and quickly took their seat after receiving his greeting. In the few minutes they sat there chatting, Ghirahim would learn an awful lot about their new co-lieutenant. Nothing he explicitly told him, per se, but rather the quirks that his rambunctious attitude completely failed to hide. Yuga was horrifically vain, even more so than himself, and extended this obsession with aesthetic perfection to every bit of his surroundings. He carried himself precisely so, from the way he consistently brushed the wrinkles out his clothing, to the careful and sweeping gestures he moved his hands with to avoid damaging his manicure. Really, he was starting to wonder if a creature so keen on his own appearance could survive even a second on the battlefield, but he made his way all the way over to Gerudo Desert from his respective Gate of Time, so perhaps he could set his gargantuan pride aside for such moments. 

Soon, a demonstration of ‘such a moment’ arrived. All decorum went out the window when Yuga suddenly appeared distracted, his eyes widening and his jaw falling slack as his fingers tightly gripped the edge of the table. If it were not for the bustle of hundreds of men gathering in this hall, Ghirahim could have heard the wood creak under his knuckle-whitening squeeze. Yuga exclaimed a high-pitched noise of shock at whatever he was looking at and hastily began beckoning a certain someone to take their seat near them.

Zant had arrived.

The royalty-obsessed Twili had failed to change garbs as they had, but he was notably lacking the armor usually perched on his shoulder. Much more interesting was the completely befuddled look that pulled at the four corners of his split lips, and hesitantly, he made his way over to their corner of the table via the proper procedure. 

Yuga had sat quivering in his seat, looking as if about to explode all throughout Zant’s advance towards them, and whatever pent-up energy burst out from him as soon as he stood at the seat they had reserved for him. “Zant! I thought that abominable helmet was your face all this time,” he hissed and screeched. “Good Lord! You are… Beautiful! Perfection!”

Ghirahim reacted to this statement almost as severely as Zant himself. He sat there with his brows knit, eyes wide, as Yuga began to wax poetic at his boyfriend. Zant, similarly, had not the slightest idea of how to react to such treatment, standing stiff and powerless as a bright red blush coated his cheeks. The poor man could do nothing but stutter out a ‘pardon?’ before being assailed with further compliments and carefully manicured hands snatching him by the chin to observe his face from various angles. 

“Oh, forgive me for being so awfully forward! I simply… Agh! You, too! I must paint you! Never in all my years of living have I seen faces like yours,” Yuga clasped his hands together in a fawning gesture, continuing to ramble. “Coming here has truly been a fantastic decision! Had I known you two were hiding here, I never would have lingered in that shadow image of my home.”

Much of that evening was spent being mercilessly praised and ogled by Yuga, which Ghirahim was far more capable of taking in stride than his fellow sufferer. Zant only managed to fend off his delirious admirer with the feeble request to have his meal in relative peace, after which Yuga, too, remembered his mortal needs, and agreed to join him for dinner. The matter of Zant’s eating habits, Ghirahim suspected with some smug amusement, was very likely to put a damper on Yuga’s enthusiasm and redirect the praise he had for that bumbling fool of a Twili and back toward himself. Which, frankly, would be a favorable outcome for both of them. At first glance, the shadow-veiled King’s table manners might appear impeccable, with how patiently and delicately he handled his utensils. Ghirahim knew better, though. He looked on with a smirk as a dangling strip of meat was lifted to Zant’s mouth, and promptly, the end of it disappeared into the sharp-toothed maw. He chewed but a few times per overly-gluttonous bite before leaning his head back to swallow the entire slab whole, a visible lump slowly sliding down his undulating throat. Even past his gorget, the detail of his neck’s bulging anatomy was unpleasantly visceral to look at, though Ghirahim had grown used to it. He expectantly looked at their newest co-lieutenant, hoping to find him unnerved, but instead, read nothing but morbid fascination on his face as he continued to eat.

Oh.

Well.

Perhaps Ghirahim was not the only one with an iron stomach at this table. 

Now that the bustle of the day was dying down, their conversation turned to more leisurely matters. Yuga once again inquired about their portraiture and was shocked to find neither of the men had their likenesses depicted in quite some time. The time to pinpoint a date for their posing was drawing ever closer and more inevitable, it seemed, which seemed like such an inane prospect in the midst of war. Even now, miles and miles away, troops were dying in battle for their glory, and here they were, discussing paintings and looking on in amusement at their fellow commander’s oddly lizardlike gorging. It struck him then, what a different life he was leading under Ganondorf’s leadership. In his efforts to resurrect Demise, he could not even dream of a moment to himself, spending every waking second scouring the lands for iconographical hints and monsters to beat into submission. And here he was, leisurely sitting at a dining table, finding the time to mingle with his fellow men. Taken aback by this realization, his eyes wandered to his Master, who was engaged in pleasant conversation with one of the previously reigning Gerudo governesses. Equipped with an acute perception of when he was being gawked at, Ganondorf soon met his gaze and, upon noticing he was occupied with neither dinner nor conversation, he beckoned him over with a sweep of his hand. Nigh instantly, and without looking back to his companions, he stood up and marched towards him with great enthusiasm. Though Ganondorf was seated upon his throne-like wooden chair, Ghirahim found himself in no need to bend down to meet his gaze and simply took his place beside his throne. To be at eye level with him was infinitely jarring, but there simply was no space for him to kneel, and the Demon King showed no sign of malcontentedness at his presence. 

“Ghirahim,” Ganondorf rumbled, voice resonating through his metal interior. “I trust that your negotiations with Yuga have concluded successfully.”

He closed his eyes with a nod in response. “Indeed, Master. All is in order for our briefing come the morrow.”

Ganondorf hummed contentedly, leaning his chin on his rugged fist as he overlooked the rich chaos in their mess hall. “And what of your cooperation?”

That made Ghirahim pause. Less than an hour ago, the matter stood that Yuga and Zant had a remarkable distaste for one another, that only just now seemed to be mending itself. He glanced at the end of the table where the two engaged in idle conversation, their earlier unease with each other beginning to fade. Though their bickering was far less snappy and furious than his own early days with Zant, he found himself at a loss for an answer. “Ah, well,” he started, hoping to find confidence in his words as he went along. “I myself am getting along quite swimmingly with our new recruit,” he gestured to himself with newfound pleasantness, “and I expect Zant to follow quite soon.”

To his barely disguised horror, Ganondorf let out a chuckle, idly shaking his head. “You should know better than to come to me with such trivial matters, though I suppose the morale of my most loyal men is not entirely irrelevant…” The massive man shifted in his seat, wood creaking under his weight. “Your synergy. How fares your compatibility in battle?”

Long he had feared this question. Yuga was not even the biggest thorn in his side over the matter. Truth be told, even after the past few months of battling together, he and Zant still had not the slightest bit of synergy. Though they were adept at assisting one another in fending off threats, their styles of battle completely clashed. Ghirahim found himself better off standing at the sidelines while Zant went off on his many rampages than attempting to squeeze himself into the front and risk his hide. To face his Master with this knowledge fresh in his mind felt like an affront to everything he stood for, and he feared that he could read the inner conflict from his expression. “I must confess, Master. I have not yet been able to gauge the new lieutenant’s skills. We were quite occupied with his settling, and our plans for the next campaign,” he finally stammered, less secure than he would prefer to appear before the Demon King.

Ganondorf averted his gaze from him, idly rubbing at his beard. To Ghirahim’s anxiety, his warm amusement from earlier faded with the wind. “Then see to it. I entrust the assessment of Yuga’s fighting prowess to you, Ghirahim, and with it, his place on the battlefield.” Sternly, he looked at him again. “I realize I may have spoiled you, but I cannot afford you shirking your efforts when not on my watch. You all are irreplaceable. Even one of you falls, and so does our formation. Do not give me any more reason for concern. Understood?”

Ghirahim could do nothing but respond with a nod, before as quickly as he had summoned him, Ganondorf dismissed him again with a wave of his hand, and he sheepishly returned to his seat after a brief bow. Rejoining his companions then felt like crossing a threshold, the worry caused by the scowl of his Master forcibly setting itself aside to avoid showing weakness in front of his peers. Said peers greeted him again pleasantly with a hint of curiosity, but both knew better than to pry into the private matters of the King of the Gerudo. Instead, they dawdled for a moment, wondering whether to pick up their conversation from where they left it, before Ghirahim folded his hands together and leaned forward with great felicity. 

“So! What did I miss?”

Night fell, and the pair retreated to their usual spot in Zant's chambers. His quarters in Gerudo Palace were significantly larger and furnished as Ghirahim would expect of the Twilight King. After dismissing a gaggle of gruff-looking Gerudo from fussing with his room, they finally seated inside to collapse after a long day of negotiations. This room, unlike the one at Eldin, had an actual seating area, and to his mild chagrin, that's where they had sat down. It seemed that Zant's earlier tolerance for his presence on his bed was primarily motivated by the lack of other seating before, and now that they could be sat politely, he decided to park the both of them straight there. Well, whatever. For the time being, he was happy to simply sit and gawk. He noted that some of the furniture had been freshly painted with details of some sort of phosphorescent dye, mimicking the teal glowing markings so typical of Twilit artifacts. Particularly receiving an upgrade was Zant's desk area, which was fitted with multi-compartment storage, and two sizeable bookcases on either side. Save for perhaps a dozen books, the text on all of the covers was illegible, meaning these were likely all smuggled from the Twilight Palace. Naturally, him being the only person capable of reading the text, these volumes were better off in his personal collection than the palatial library. His eye then fell on the bed, that big, pillowy thing, with its large mass of pillows and the sheer, sparkling shroud that encircled it. He would pout about his lacking presence on top of it, but amid their idle chatting, Zant had found something to giggle about and thoroughly distracted him. His eye was drawn to his face, only to spot one peculiarity. Sitting across him, rather than every night at his side in entanglement, allowed him to idly notice more things than usual. Right now, it occurred to him that Zant's hair was getting long enough to obscure the mark on his forehead.

Ghirahim sighed, gesturing nonchalantly at his balaclava. "Say, Zant. Isn't your hair growing awfully long?"

Zant hummed curiously, running a finger through his front bangs. "I suppose so."

Suddenly struck by an idea, Ghirahim shifted to sit on his knees. "May I?" he asked, reaching over to his balaclava. Zant gave him a brief nod, curiously eyeing his hands, squinting his eyes shut as Ghirahim's fingers slipped under the garment framing his face. Gradually, he pushed the tough, leathery fabric back, fingers running through his hair as he went along. As he thought, it was getting long. That messy mop upon his head was in even more disarray now that the haphazardly chopped locks were starting to tangle and overlap.

His eye returned to Zant's face, back at those big, bug-like eyes that stared so expectantly, and mildly flustered, up at him. "You're due for a haircut, I'd say. If you are to have your portrait taken, you want to look your best, wouldn't you think?"

A mischievous glint sparkled in Zant's eye. "You mean, the way you do every day?"

To Zant's amusement, the hand that was still plucking through his hair quickly stiffened as Ghirahim let out a scandalized squeak, and promptly delivered a light smack to his cheek. "Oh! You and I both know you wouldn't have said that if it weren't for Yuga riling you up earlier."

Zant squinted his eyes in a daring smile. "You'll never know for sure," he sneered.

Rolling his eyes, Ghirahim sat back down, his hand trailing to rest on Zant's shoulder instead, and he turned to the triptych vanity near the easternmost window. The idea of a man like Zant, constantly covered by his helmet, and overall frumpish as he was, possessing, much less using such a thing was perplexing to him. He wondered the last time the elegant granite surface must have last had elbows resting upon it, at the mercy of whoever was dolling themselves up. Peeking back at Zant through the slight gaps in his bangs, he promptly stood up, starting to pull him off of the couch and towards the vanity. Zant yelped slightly in response, the sudden manhandling likely rousing his scabbed-over injuries, while Ghirahim dragged him over and shoved him down into the seat before the mirrors of his dressing table. Fingers ran through his hair again while Ghirahim loomed behind him, meeting his restlessly darting eyes with a flirtatious gaze. He bent over to hover with his face next to his, fiddling with the locks of his hair — stretching out his bangs to measure their length to his chin, ruffling the back to see how it puffs out. Much of it was now shoulder length, unexpected from a man who’d always kept it fussily cropped short. Perhaps it had gotten away from him, with how occupied his evenings had been. Well, thank Demise for it!

“At least I have plenty to work with,” Ghirahim chuckled, fluffing his hair as he stood back upright.

Zant scoffed. “You? You’ve taken enough possession of me to start cutting my hair?”

“I only mean some offense by this, but every time I’ve seen that hair of yours, it’s messier than the last time. What you need, is someone with a steadier hand.”

Zant folded his arms poutily but was unable to think of a retort that did not incriminate him. Ghirahim continued his stylistic brainstorming instead. “You know, now that I look at it… Don’t you think you would look quite regal with longer hair? I could trim the ends, so it all grows out evenly—“

Zant quickly raised a hand, stopping his line of reasoning. “Ghirahim, I have tolerated your musings until now, but this I must decline,” he hissed, before his next words left his mouth with more of a mutter. “I do not see myself in my own reflection, when it is long.”

Ghirahim paused, then chuckled. “Surely it is not so drastic!”

But Zant’s expression did not change. “I am serious.”

He stood there blinking, caught off guard by his grave tone. Such an abstract concept was nigh incomprehensible to him, but if anyone was familiar with being picky about one’s appearance, it would be him. So, he did the next best thing: play right into his hand. “Right. Then, I’d like to suggest we stick to your usual length, but try to make it look less like a herd of goats went and ravaged it. Does that sound agreeable?”

Still in a bit of a sore mood, Zant’s earlier sternness lingered, but Ghirahim’s incessant taste for bugging him chipped at his composure. Soon, he sighed, meeting his eye again through their reflections. “If you absolutely must.”

Ghirahim chuckled victoriously, finally relinquishing his toying with his hair. And how good it was that he did, as that sweaty, greasy mess was starting to make him cringe to touch. “I’d reckon we ought to find an opportunity to wash it before I do, though.” 

A sudden spot of genius struck him. “Why! I have the perfect idea. Before we get back to Eldin, we ought to make good use of the bathhouse here. Surely you’ve seen it!”

Zant, by now fed up with being treated as a dressing doll, refused to speak to him through their reflections any longer, and instead turned in his seat to look up at him. Their meager height difference as he sat was a little grating. He nodded. “I have been to it, on occasion.”

Speaking to him today was just one surprise after the other. Someone as modest as he? Sneaking off to bathe in a public place? Voluntarily, without him to goad him into it? Ghirahim was learning many new things about him, and he hardly even had to prod for the candor to come dripping out. “That spares me the effort of showing you around, then,” he nodded, resting a hand on Zant’s shoulder again. The Twili did not even as much as acknowledge the gesture. “Perhaps it’s an idea to invite Yuga along?”

This startled Zant out of his monotony. “Yuga?” He stammered. “We have only just met! You want our second encounter of diplomacy to be spent in… Well! In the nude?” 

Ghirahim jeered, retracting his hand from Zant’s shoulder to wave him off with it. “Oh, he wouldn’t make a fuss! Most he’d show is an enthusiasm for sculpting us, or something like it,” he drawled on, reminiscing their earlier encounters with that eccentric figure. Indeed, most Yuga had done was ogling at them, but in a distinctly… Platonic way. The man viewed the two of them with deep aesthetic admiration, but in the same way one would a picturesque landscape or a particularly pleasing assemblage of still life knickknacks. In short, Yuga beheld the both of them as though they were living, breathing pieces of art already, itching to immortalize them. Needless to say, Ghirahim wanted to make fast friends with him. 

Zant frowned at him for a moment, before his long, pointy ears drooped with a sigh. “Oh, I truly do detest how right you are. Very well; though I wish to gauge his reaction, personally, when you do offer, otherwise I will take to the baths some other opportunity!”

Ghirahim smiled, again sidling up behind him, laying one hand on either of his shoulders. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Your Majesty.”

Unable to resist the charms brought on by his enthusiasm, Zant exhaled a single squeak of amusement, leaning back to rest against him. Ghirahim’s hands slid their way up his neck, gliding past its taut muscles, and rested instead upon his jaw, stroking thumbs across his cheeks. His lips puckered in endeared enthusiasm as Ghirahim looked down to him so fondly, the heat from his face spreading to the darkened metal of the sword spirit’s hands. Oh, if only kissing him wouldn’t wobble the two of them off balance.

Amidst their sickeningly saccharine display of affection, Zant broke their fond silence. “If this is your attempt at seducing me into letting you crawl into my bed again, it is working,” Zant purred, cracking open one eye to peer up at him.

Offended as he was, Ghirahim couldn’t help but laugh, his face wrinkling in a mischievous grimace. “You think me a harlot!”

Zant giggled in response. “Throughout at least half of our conversation earlier, you were eyeing the sheets without even so much as a shred of subtlety.”

Ghirahim narrowed his eyes sharply and dug his fingers in to squeeze his cheeks as punishment. “Well, then. Aren’t you going to invite me?”

“Do I need to? You tend to simply go wherever you please.”

That was enough! Ghirahim promptly smacked his hands back on his shoulders, shrouding the both of them in yet another explosion of monochromatic diamonds. They arrived at the other end of his spatial warp wrestling for the better spot, somewhat in mid-air before they dropped with near-synchronized ‘oof’s into the mattress of Zant’s aptly king-sized bed. It had been a few days since their last night together, but from the previous handful of times, he remembered he must savor his time wisely. The Shadow King was a surprisingly kind lover, preferring his affections to be light and feathery over the carnal crashing of mouths Ghirahim was so used to, and tonight was no different. Still, they never did stay entangled for long. The passionate creature had a way of caressing him like a poem had its arcs, which meant that no matter how swept away they may get during its central stanzas, an end truly meant an end, and he would always request his leave after. There was something he was hiding, certainly, but he found this form of courtship oddly intriguing. Perhaps it was a Twili custom, or simply Zant’s overall way of being, that made him treat their budding romance as a dance, guiding Ghirahim through its various steps and twirls all the way through. His curiosity for whatever came next bested his impatience in this regard, but eventually, his urge to turn the tables would burst free from its chains, and show Zant just how fiery a lover he could be. For now, he was content to lay in his arms, those strange, split lips leaving their marks on his own, before bidding it all farewell for the night.

——

Another day went by in their usual routine. This time, it was Zant who approached Ghirahim’s quarters come daybreak. The man arrived at his doorway somewhat dispirited, dark circles set under his eyes, though he greeted him with a smile as always. He was mellow that morning, to Ghirahim’s great surprise, and simply seemed to want to poke around his room now that it was furnished. In comparison to Zant’s scholarly clutter, his own abode was disturbingly minimalist, save for what he could only refer to as his sewing corner. Currently lacking any projects, all there stood was simply a mannequin and a shelf with rolls of fabric, which Zant took to with great interest. Much of that morning was spent with light-hearted chatting, with the Twili leaning on him, seeking comfort from an ailment he would not share. Ghirahim found himself trying to brush it off. Certainly, if it was important to their mission, he would have poured his heart out to him as the impulsive creature was expected to do. Despite this sound logic that usually would sway him, an odd worry continued to eat at him. His Master’s words echoed in his mind; if even one of them were to fall, it would spell doom for their entire mission. Zant’s well-being was crucial to them all, as dubious as his mental state usually was. Still, Ghirahim found it was not merely his sense of duty that agonized at his inability to gain his trust…

Odd mood or not, the war continued. Their briefing with Ganondorf and the lower-ranking commanders went by as smoothly as it could. The Demon King seemed most pleased with their negotiations, and, as though reading Ghirahim’s mind, had only the possibility of the higher Hyrulean commanders swooping in as a concern. That very noon, scouts would be sent ahead on either route, hoping to spy on camps and keep an eye on any noteworthy occupants. Despite his disappointment from the night before, to Ghirahim’s great joy the Master actually seemed pleased. Still, he could not grow complacent just yet. That very afternoon, he was set to spar with Yuga. As expected from a mage, the man was far from an expert in melee, but this did not take away from his overall versatility. His choice of weaponry was most confusing, as other than the beams from his staff and a frequently summoned trident, his primary way of fighting was carried out… Using a picture frame. 

“Oh, those are portals!” Yuga cheerfully proclaimed, swinging his staff wildly to force Ghirahim back out of melee range. “They summon various elemental magicks, weapons, and, well,” he ranted on, assailing his opponent with narrowly-dodged bolts of lightning and arrows pelting out of thin air, “They also pack quite a punch!” 

Ghirahim grunted as out of the corner of his eye, he noticed far too late a teal smudge hurtling toward him at breakneck speeds. He reeled as it smashed into the back of his head, cracking the false skin upon impact. Thankful then for his constitution, he only needed to shake his head to rid himself of the worst dizziness. Yuga covered his lips with the tips of his fingers, a little bashful under the burning glare he shot at him. “Oh! I do beg your pardon, I expected you to dodge that.”

Indeed, it was his mistake. After this morning, he had been distracted, and in his attempts to tease out Yuga’s abilities, he overestimated his reflexes to the point of carelessness. How unbecoming of him! “Quite the nasty tricks you have. If anything, it made for a fine demonstration…” he trailed off, his attempts at saving face interrupted by a familiar giggle coming from the shadows of the nearby storage rooms. It appeared they had an audience. Zant apparently found the time to sneak off and watch their practice and took great amusement in his fumbling.

Ghirahim responded to this mockery with a scowl. “Don’t you have some bugs you need to be looking at?”

Zant’s earlier amusement all but faded, but he did put his hands in his sides, squinting at his snide comments. “I am simply here as your fellow commander, sating my curiosity about our new lieutenant’s skill in battle. If you so desire to make a fool out of me, I will be more than happy to join Yuga in beating you into ingots!”

Ghirahim grimaced at him with a sarcastic laugh, before lunging back at Yuga, rapier extended. Not expecting the sudden onslaught, Yuga shrieked, just barely deflecting the tip of his sword with another flying frame. This time, he had the upper hand, driving the man back by continuing to push against his shields. He stabbed and kicked at the translucent frames that appeared before him, pushing the sorcerer backward with each strike, before finally deciding to sidestep past. With one decisive thrust, the tip of his rapier was now under Yuga’s chin. 

“Your skills are terribly interesting, I do say, though your defenses could use some work,” Ghirahim said with a smile and a tilt of his head. “Sturdy as those frames may be, they’re quite easy to slip past.”

Yuga swallowed, the bob of his adam’s apple briefly pushing the blade further into his skin. “I see! Well, ah, thank you for your insights!”

“You are most welcome. Oh, by the way,” he intoned cheerfully, removing the blade from the poor man’s throat. “Now that Zant is here, I have a proposition…”

It went without saying, but Yuga was incredibly enthusiastic about the matter of there being a bathhouse, even more so about joining the pair for an afternoon of socializing. Zant, on the other hand, was more difficult to persuade. He seemed to be having a severe case of ‘cold feet’. It was nothing a bit of well-timed prodding couldn‘t help, though. Before he knew it, he had the lanky thing stripped down to his robes and padding, and shuffling obediently, yet uneasily, down to the north of the building after him. Yuga had gone on ahead, apparently in more need of preparation than the both of them… Whatever that meant. Walking past the colonnades and into the bathhouse itself, the two men quickly went to the dressing rooms, the sound of gently running water just behind the wall. They had the place to themselves, Ghirahim had seen to that — they’d be meeting nobody but the occasional attendant.

“Ghirahim, I must attend you to one thing,” Zant stated with slight apprehension in the hitch of his voice. “When I have undressed, you may find my anatomy… Not as you expect it.”

Now he was even more curious than before. He had promised Zant to keep his back turned until they were both more or less bared, but the temptation to look over his shoulder was starting to get nigh unbearable. “Not to worry, I’ve long since made myself comfortable with your otherworldly appearance. I’m certain it will be nothing shocking,” he intoned, trying foolhardy to mask his burning curiosity with a nonchalant tone. Oh, but what if it was shocking? The possibilities were endless! He had felt his body pressed against his, but only ever through the padding of countless robes! Whichever way it went, he was terribly intrigued, and could only imagine what was hidden on the lanky form beneath.

Zant was silent a moment, before humming in mildly conflicted affirmation. He heard nothing more but the gentle slaps of shuffling straw slippers on the tiles and the rustling of thick clothing for a while, until they had both well and enough prepared themselves for their little afternoon of relaxation. By now Ghirahim decided he’d waited enough, and he promptly turned around.

The Twili stood before him, a woven towel held loosely at his waist. Against all odds, the humble creature had indeed undressed to nothing but his footwear, allowing him his first-ever glimpse of whatever mystery he hid behind his eternal mass of robes.

Various features could have caught his eye. It could have been the weak glow of the elaborate markings adorning his body, or the black-and-white patterns swirling around his limbs and torso like shadows, or even the way the deep black on his upper arms slowly faded into a sickly grey the further down his arms he looked. Instead, his eyes were promptly glued to one particular trait.

Were those..?

Those were definitely..!

A small clear of the throat snapped him out of whatever wild goose chase his mind was sending him off on. “I must beg your pardon,” said the voice diagonally in front of him, “I realize this may be somewhat difficult for a man of your stature, but I truly would prefer for you to look me in the eye when we speak.”

Embarrassed, Ghirahim quickly craned his head back to meet Zant’s gaze. He feared having insulted him, but instead, he was greeted with a smile, clad in subtle, eye-squinting smugness. That bastard was toying with him! 

“Of course,” Ghirahim found himself stammering, shamefully, yet futilely, fighting against the blush creeping up on his cheeks. “Oh, I do apologize… How unbecoming of me,” he muttered, clutching his towel to his chest during a struggle to find an appropriate pose for his arms. 

Zant’s smile broadened, baring the first glimpses of his teeth. “Very forward of you, indeed,” he crooned, “but such curiosities and inquiries will have to wait until some other time.” 

As Ghirahim still stood there, perplexed by the strange up-and-down in the gravity of this situation, Zant was already turning to leave. “I believe we have a guest to tend to, and it would be even more unbecoming if we left him waiting, no?” 

Turning to look over his shoulder, Zant curiously gauged his next course of action or perhaps hoped to spot him sneaking in more opportunities to ogle. Against both their expectations, Ghirahim found himself, shockingly, too shy to do so, and instead stood staring at the face so gingerly obscured by the choppy locks of his plum-colored hair. Him, shy? Embarrassed!? It was unheard of! He had to save face quickly. 

“You are most right, my dear,” he purred, briskly taking off to keep up pace with him. “Let us hope our new comrade hasn’t gotten himself lost a second time!”

Soon enough, they encountered Yuga standing in the middle of the hallway leading to the baths, hair wrapped in a towel. Without his gaudy clothing and flashy hair, he could only recognize him from his boney, yet delicate build, facing away from them to gaze out the window to the courtyard oasis. The sound of their sandals slapping against the tiles alerted him, though, and he turned with a smile. It seemed that his horridly pale skin and long lashes were natural, for he was lacking his trademark jester-like makeup. 

“Ah, gentlemen! Not to worry, I wasn’t waiting long,” he said, casually looking the both of them up and down.

Ghirahim, fully aware of this, cocked his hip, a hand resting on his waist. “Good to hear. Lovely place, isn’t it?”

“Oh, indeed! I only hope the water isn’t all too heated. It is sweltering in this desert!” Yuga responded, fanning himself with his hand with a sigh.

For once, Zant cut in. “You will find it to your liking, then. Come along. I hear that I’ve a need to wash up.”

Trying his very hardest to crane his head up to look at him, Ghirahim watched the Twili leave rather quickly, making his way straight for the washing rooms. Zant’s sudden change of demeanor was puzzling to him, but he supposed he preferred it over having to drag him kicking and screaming. In fact, his favorite part was coming up next. He trailed after him, Yuga in tow, to reach the lineup of square plaster tubs that lined the entrance of the bathhouse proper. Casting his towels aside, Zant lowered that towering body somehow down to the shoulders into the very first bath he came across. Ghirahim saw his moment and shot his shot. Before Zant even noticed him coming up, he already sat on the edge of the bath directly behind him and locked him in place with his legs over his shoulders. 

Zant yelped. “What foolishness are you up to this time?”

Ghirahim chuckled, reaching over to the edge of the tub to fetch a handful of bottles of soap. “Hush, you. Some people would pay for this kind of treatment!” 

Zant groaned as well-manicured fingers found their way to his hair. “I can wash my own hair perfectly well, thank you!”

“Oh, I know. But I can do it better.”

“You-“ he sputtered as water was promptly poured over his head, running into his eyes and nostrils. A frustrated whine sounded from him, struggling in vain against the legs that so firmly held him in place. His stubbornness would not hold, though. A cold trickle of soap cascaded upon his head, and soon, hands rubbed across his scalp, pulling apart the strands that were once held together with sweat and grease. If anything could successfully pacify even the most aggressive and nasty-mannered of people, it was having one’s hair played with. Zant, who now grew slack under his touch, was evidently no exception.

“You might want to pick another bath, Yuga,” Ghirahim remarked bluntly. “Lord knows what I’m about to scrub off of him.”

“Oh, say less,” Yuga responded blandly, before so luxuriously claiming an entire tub for himself next to them.

A good scrub-down later, it was just about time for the primary goal of their outing. They sat Zant across the window, close enough to the light to allow them to work accurately, but far away enough for him to not get scorched within seconds. Zant nervously eyed the two men who hovered around him like vultures, fiddling with the asymmetrical locks that now limply hung wet from his head. Ghirahim frowned at what he saw, once again, before taking hold of the long strands of his side bangs. 

“Now, whatever is the point in these?” he inquired, twirling one of the locks in his fingers. Zant, never one for fashion, simply shrugged in return. Ah, so they were pointless. But before he could approach with the scissors, Yuga halted him. 

“Ah-ah! Not so fast,” he said, taking the strand into his hand. “Now, hear me out. What if we were to braid this, and then…”

As they continued bickering, it was clear that Zant had absolutely no say in what was to happen to his own hair, aside from the length. Ghirahim was the one holding the scissors, after all, and he made sure Zant knew better than to even attempt to take them from him. Yuga, in the meantime, was proving to be a fine assistant, using his many years of experience in portraiture to pick out just what would look flattering on a royal. A King Zant was no longer, but getting to play the part still seemed to bring him some delusional fulfillment. Who was he to deny him such a pleasure? Damp, purple locks gathered on the floor around him, but mostly on Zant’s shoulders and lap, as his face was slowly being framed with an unprecedented, actually decent-looking haircut. Seemingly zoning out to someplace else, the Twili wide-eyed and obediently followed their every command in the angling of his head and the squinting of his eyes, and he hadn’t uttered a word of protest since they’d trimmed the hair away from his forehead marking. Perhaps the undivided attention of two people vastly exceeding him in levels of stylishness finally shattered his poise. 

A good ruffle with a towel later, Zant was sitting stiffly upright, eyes darting between them as they styled him back to perfection. 

Yuga stood back upright, adjusting the knot of the towel he had wrapped around his chest to cover himself. “Why,” he exclaimed delightedly, “how lovely this looks! Zant, if it weren’t for your one-in-a-million face, I wouldn’t have recognized you.”

Indeed, Zant was quite the looker when he actually put effort into his appearance. Or, well, if others put the effort in for him, Ghirahim casually observed, dissipating the scissors into thin air. “We ought to find you a mirror… But first, you might want to wash all those little hairs off. Careful not to get your head wet, we worked hard over here!”

Idly, but with utmost carefulness, Zant began to feel at the silhouette of his hair. “I appreciate your efforts, ah,” he contemplated, “but I will refrain from thanking you until I’ve seen it.”

Yuga rolled his eyes with a laugh. “You’re worried? Please! Our tastes are hardly any more flashy than yours.”

Zant narrowed his eyes with a hum, shivering under a sudden chill. Ghirahim had taken the liberty of giving him somewhat of an undercut, which those twiggy fingers were now curiously rubbing at, fascinated by the texture. 

As Ghirahim expected, though admittedly, he was also a little relieved, Zant was most pleased with their work. Less pleased he was by the otherworld sorcerer now constantly buzzing around him, who was far more interested in him now that his appearance was a bit more groomed. A brief wash-up later, Yuga signaled them to go on ahead, as his own hair care routine could get rather lengthy, and he wouldn’t want to keep them standing around in the dry heat of the desert that wafted in through the windows. 

Little did he know, this was the exact window Ghirahim had been hoping to get. For what was a trip to the bathhouse without a bit of skinship? A short walk down the next hallway later, he took Zant by the wrist to halt him in his step and quickly slid in front of him.

“Bend down, you nasty creature, and give me a kiss,” Ghirahim murmured, shimmying up to stand closer to the object of his affection. “We’ve been wandering about nude for nearly an hour, and you expect me to keep my composure?”

And yet, Zant stood perfectly upright still, unmoved by his advances. “I do! We have a guest!” He cheerfully chimed in, before giving him but the mildest peck on the nose, and promptly wandering off again. The nerve! To reject him was one thing, but to belittle him was just plain unnecessary! 

Huffing grumpily all the way, he trotted after him. “Whatever’s wrong with, ‘no thank you, Ghirahim, some other time, Ghirahim’,” he inquired, caricaturing Zant’s voice. “Why must you make a mockery of me?”

Zant snickered in response. “You spend every breathing second trying to get a rise out of me, so forgive me for retaliating!”

“You bumbling fool! I ought to drown you,” he growled, clawing hands about to dig into the Twili’s ludicrously long waist, but he promptly warped out of his grip. Amused by the thrill of teasing him, he reappeared quite a few paces ahead of him, gait floaty and arms swaying. Zant looked back at him just once from across the hall, a smirk stretching across his face, before he disappeared around the corner. One way or the other, he had to figure out a way to get his hands on that man…

They made their way over to their reserved bathing space, away from the burning sun, and into a cooler apex of the building. Such a space was preferable, not only for the overall comfort of all three of them, but also because Zant would last perhaps five minutes if exposed to any more of the deadly rays of daylight. They had an entire pool to themselves, not exactly large but certainly clean and heated, which they casually reclined around, dipping their feet in the lukewarm water. Yuga had not arrived yet, which gave them a few precious minutes to sit shoulder to shoulder, doing… Whatever nonsense Ghirahim could tempt him into. He swayed his feet in the water, watching the little waves lap lazily at the Twili’s ankles next to him. His gaze trailed up his body; he found himself captivated, then, by how the refracting light from the cyan water danced across his pale skin, making the dull glow from his markings appear that much brighter. Against the cool blue hue the water cast the room in, his orange eyes were once again quick to draw and trap his gaze. Zant caught him staring and cocked his head playfully.

“Peeping at me again?”

Not a problem. He could segue into favorable territory with ease. “You truly do look far more handsome with your hair like this, you know. You ought to let me do this more often.”

“Perhaps I will,” Zant chuckled, turning to face him with an almost serpentine motion of his neck. “You, too, are looking quite a few shades brighter after your wash-up, Sword.”

It seemed that Yuga’s incessant flattering still kept him on edge and at a need to overperform. Either that, or Zant’s amorous mood began to match his own. He leaned in, unsubtly pressing his shoulder to his arm. “You’re quite certain you don’t want to sneak in a peck or two?”

Zant smiled at him again, slinking away from him. “Quite certain indeed,” he said, before unceremoniously dropping himself into the water. Thankfully for the both of them, his sheer height made sure not even a droplet of water landed on his freshly-groomed haircut. 

Ghirahim laughed purely out of reflex at his tremendously quick escape. His chin rested upon his palm and his elbow on his knee, he leaned forward to look down at him. “Of course, I’ve no intent to force myself upon you, but you’ll have to forgive me for wondering about your sudden insistent prudishness.”

His inquiry was met with a sniff. “In roughly twenty seconds, you’ll see,” Zant smirked, before swimming off to the other side of the pool in a surprisingly swift motion. Long, lanky arms flowed like octorok tendrils, jetting him forward in bursts. Perhaps his earlier mental comparisons of him being a lizard were unfair, he pondered. The man was really much more like a frog. Zant continued to amuse himself in the water, twisting his body back to face him as he continued to paddle himself backward. He really wasn’t going to let any more words slip, was he?

Oh, this cryptic creature! He blew his bangs out of his face with a single puff and crossed his arms in a miffed gesture. Truly, he wished he would just tell it to him straight sometimes, but with the way he was always sending him back and forth with his own teasing, he supposed he had it coming. The meaning of the Twili’s words soon became apparent, as indeed, a few seconds later, Yuga came around the corner, holding a sizable fabric fan, and his hair hanging loose and wet over his shoulders.

“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting for too long! I managed to hail a servant, she’ll be down here with a jug of wine in a little while,” he said cheerfully, dapping the water out from his ear.

Zant crooned approvingly, while Ghirahim’s eye was moreso drawn to his new accessory. “And where did you get that thing?”

With a smirk, Yuga unfolded the fan, and daintily fluttered it before his face. “I borrowed it,” he giggled, before joining the two of them to sit across the pool. 

Much of that afternoon was spent with varying degrees of productivity. Ghirahim knew that between lieutenants, even outings such as these were meant for diplomacy. He recalled it so during his time under Cia, where any alliance was wobbly, and his compatriots could be expected to be swayed by their own selfish needs any minute. Not that he particularly enjoyed spending time with either Volga or Wizzro; the former was a bore, and the latter… He preferred not to dwell on the thought too long. But as he sat there, watching his Twili dipping in the water and Yuga reclining close by, giggling under the enjoyment of a cup of wine, he couldn’t help but consider the two as friends. Yes, they were all united under Ganondorf, unwavering in their loyalty to the Demon King. They had a cause and a promise, with incredibly little need for worry of subterfuge. But perhaps he was naïve in assuming that. Still, today was not about gathering intel or picking apart every little word to hope to wring out any and all secrets that would come dripping out. It was about… Companionship. Boosting their morale. Finding another moment of cheer before those goody-two-shoes could swoop in and beat the tar out of them, and vice versa. As the day of their campaign through Eldin crept ever closer, Ghirahim could not think of a wiser way to spend their time.

The day flew by. They had dried off and had their supper, and after the last meetings were tended to, the bustle of the castle died down, the troops inside retreating to their chambers under the setting sun.

All but two.

Ghirahim and his co-lieutenant sauntered through the hallway to their chambers, having joined each other wordlessly in their stroll. Yet as the doors that would come to separate them grew ever closer, Ghirahim broke the silence and looked up to the King of Shadows, who had long since shed his helmet.

“Are you feeling better after this morning? I hesitated to bring it up, but you seemed somewhat… Downtrodden, when you first came to see me today.”

Zant perked up, his ear twitching slightly at the sound of his voice, as he looked down at him with a smile. “Your care for me flatters me, Ghirahim. Yes, it has been quite a productive day. I find myself quite fulfilled, indeed.”

Humming in response, he once again found himself lost in thought. So childishly they stood before the door to Zant’s sleeping quarters, not knowing what to say yet not wanting to bid goodbye just yet, toeing at the ground and hesitant words sucking back into their throats. He was a weapon, a tool for bloodshed and destruction, yet here he was, at the mercy of the thumping in his chest. Truthfully, Zant frequently angered him, dragged the proverbial blood out from under his nails with his foolishness and incompetence. But when alone with him like this in the shades of evening, he found himself longing for nothing but his company. A man so strange, so opposite from him, threatened to be the one to understand him most intimately. 

This, too, ticked him off. Was he going to let a lanky imbecile like him play him like a fiddle? He had to suck up this timid reluctance and assert himself once again. Zant perked up as he stepped closer to him, and gingerly reached over to him, taking hold of his forearm. “We needn’t say goodbye here, Zant,” he whispered, craning his head up to look at him. “Won’t you let me stick around?”

Zant swallowed, yet in his shyness, did not break eye contact. “If you’re so inclined,” he responded with a sigh, “but we have a long day of preparations yet ahead of us, you oughtn’t to stay long.”

Again with this! His hand slid from his arm down to his wrist, and despite his apprehension, Zant clasped their hands together before Ghirahim could think to do so. He needed to hear it, he wasn’t putting up with getting pushed out any longer. “Why must you always dismiss me? Have I not earned your trust?”

For once, it was Zant that broke his own hypnotic gaze, darting his eyes away from him as inner conflict furrowed his brow. “It is not just a matter of trust, Ghirahim,” he muttered.

Oh, this man was going to be the death of him. Once again, the alien creature had managed to slip past his defenses and rid him of any desire to snap at him. “Then whatever could be the matter?” he insisted, “Tell me.”

The Twili visibly hesitated in his arms, his spindly fingers squeezing his hand once, before retreating from his grip. Yet, Ghirahim did not let him relent, and stepped in closer to him, stroking his gloved hands up his forearms as his eyes pleaded with him for an answer. Finally, Zant sighed and met his eyes again. “Restless dreams plague me, and unbothered sleep does not come easy. You, as a being without need for sleep, must know how terribly long such nights feel.”

The warmth of his body radiated off him, the beat of his pulse thrumming through his sinewy arms. Ghirahim slid his fingers down that barren grey skin, only to end up hand-to-hand, lacing his fingers with Zant’s. “Then why not seek out my company?”

“You do not know what you might find,” he responded gravely, trying to shy out from his grip.

Such struggles were only met with another step closer, and a tip of Ghirahim’s head, looking up to draw their faces parallel. “Do you think me afraid?”

“No. Perhaps I am.”

“Then let me soothe those fears, Zant, creature of the night you are,” he whispered, lips now agonizingly close to his, enough to feel the Mortal’s breath on his skin. His voice buckled under the weight of his words. “Please don’t send me away again.”

Hesitation. The Usurper looked down at him, eyes glazed over with a film of early tears. A tremble coursed through his body, holding back the crashing waves of an insurmountable feeling, one so strong Ghirahim could feel it through his skin. Raw, arcane, and violent. Yearning deep enough to infect him, surging from his lips to his core.

Attunement.

Suddenly, silk-clad, lanky arms wrapped tightly around his waist, and pulled him through the threshold of his chambers. The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind them and sheltered them from the outside world with a click. Pale lips met his own, and all faded around him when his back hit the cushioning of the mattress, losing himself to a living dream when the shadows of the Twilight King enveloped him. 

For just that night, Zant would lift the weight of such a betrayal of loyalty. He was his, and they were one.

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

How does Ganondorfs (Wind Waker, Ocarina of Time, Twilight Princess, Hyrule Warriors, and Tears of the Kingdom) & Demise feel about the villainous Teams (Team Rocket, Team Aqua, Team Magma, Team Plasma, Team Skull, etc) in the Pokemon world?

Ganondorf and Demise would each have a strong reaction to the various villainous teams in the Pokémon world. Their responses would be shaped by the teams' ambitions, tactics, and philosophies, as well as their leaders’ capabilities. While some teams might earn their respect for their power and ambition, others would likely irritate or disappoint them due to their lesser goals or lack of true strength. Let's explore how each version of Ganondorf and Demise would react:

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Team Aqua & Team Magma: Wind Waker Ganondorf, with his deep connection to the sea, might understand Team Aqua’s desire to flood the world. However, he’d find their methods crude and lack vision beyond reshaping the land. He might consider their ambition admirable but ultimately shortsighted, as their goal would lead to chaos without proper rule. Team Magma, on the other hand, would likely draw his ire—he’d see their desire to expand land as foolish and detrimental to the balance of nature he appreciates. Respect: Team Aqua’s ambitions but not their methods. Ire: Team Magma for its reckless goals.

Team Skull: Team Skull’s chaotic and disorganized nature would disgust Wind Waker Ganondorf. He is a man of careful planning and long-term strategy, and Team Skull’s rebellious yet aimless behavior would earn nothing but disdain. Ire: Disorganized chaos without true ambition.

Team Galactic: While Wind Waker Ganondorf might appreciate Team Galactic’s desire to reshape the universe, he would find Cyrus’s complete lack of emotion and ambition to rule flawed. Ganondorf wants to conquer and control, while Cyrus seeks to erase all emotion—something Ganondorf thrives on. Respect: Their cosmic ambition but not the emotional detachment.

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

Team Rocket: Ocarina of Time Ganondorf would likely dismiss Team Rocket’s ambitions as petty and small-minded. Giovanni’s quest for wealth and power, while notable, would be seen as lacking the grand vision that Ganondorf aspires to—world domination and the Triforce. He may admire Giovanni’s tactical cunning but ultimately sees him as a lesser player on the world stage. Respect: Giovanni’s cunning but not his ambition.

Team Plasma: Ghetsis’ manipulative tactics and ability to control others would resonate with Ocarina of Time Ganondorf. He would admire how Ghetsis uses ideals of freedom to manipulate people into supporting his conquest. Ganondorf might even appreciate Ghetsis’ hidden cruelty and dark ambitions, though he would see his reliance on others (like N) as a weakness. Respect: Ghetsis’ manipulation and darker goals. Ire: Relying on N instead of his own power.

Team Flare: Lysandre’s desire for beauty and perfection would bore Ocarina of Time Ganondorf. He would see Lysandre’s focus on aesthetics as trivial and his goal of erasing all who don’t meet his ideals as lacking the depth and vision of a true conqueror. Ire: Lack of meaningful ambition.

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Team Plasma: Twilight Princess Ganondorf would see Ghetsis as a kindred spirit. Both are ruthless manipulators of others and possess a desire for ultimate power. He would respect Ghetsis' ability to twist noble ideals into tools for control, though he would scoff at the need for a figurehead like N. Respect: Ghetsis’ clever use of ideologies to gain control. Ire: Ghetsis’ dependency on a “puppet king.”

Team Galactic: Ganondorf would likely be impressed by Cyrus’ ambitions to reshape the universe but criticize his detachment from the emotions and suffering of others. Twilight Princess Ganondorf thrives on power and ruling through fear, something Cyrus ignores in his quest for a perfect world devoid of emotion. Respect: The scope of Team Galactic’s cosmic ambitions. Ire: Lack of understanding of emotional power.

Team Aqua & Team Magma: Like Wind Waker Ganondorf, this version would find both teams overly focused on the physical landscape, whether flooding or expanding land. He would find neither to be true threats, viewing them as environmentally obsessed fanatics with no understanding of true conquest. Ire: Lack of political or strategic ambition beyond environmental changes.

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

Team Rocket: Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf would view Giovanni’s methods as too subtle and low-stakes. However, he might respect the organization of Team Rocket and Giovanni’s control over a powerful network. Ganondorf, always one to appreciate strong organization and loyal armies, might see potential in Giovanni if his ambitions weren’t so limited to financial gain. Respect: Giovanni’s organizational skills. Ire: Lack of vision beyond financial domination.

Team Flare: Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf would scoff at Lysandre’s goals. Beauty and aesthetics mean nothing to him. Power, strength, and control are what matter, and he would find Lysandre’s philosophy weak and lacking the brutality needed to truly reshape the world. Ire: Weak goals focused on aesthetics over power.

Team Galactic: Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf might find Cyrus intriguing due to his desire to reshape the world, but like other versions, he would find Cyrus’ lack of emotional drive disappointing. Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf, who embraces raw power and leadership, would want someone more personally invested in conquest and rule. Respect: The cosmic scope of ambition. Ire: Lack of personal drive to conquer.

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf

Team Galactic: Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf would likely respect Team Galactic’s cosmic goals the most. As a conqueror who desires the destruction of the existing world to build anew, Ganondorf would find Cyrus’ plan to erase and reshape reality fascinating. However, like others, he would scoff at Cyrus’ detachment from the emotions and power that fuel true dominance. Respect: The ambition to reshape the universe. Ire: Cyrus’ emotionless nature, as Ganondorf thrives on passion.

Team Skull: Team Skull’s chaotic and anarchistic tendencies would annoy Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf. He would view them as undisciplined and lacking any true leadership or vision. To Ganondorf, they would seem like a mockery of power, floundering in their disorganization. Ire: Lack of structure and ambition.

Team Rocket: Giovanni’s calculated, mafia-like approach to power might gain some respect from Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf. Though not grand in vision, Giovanni’s cunning and control of an entire criminal empire could earn a nod of approval, though Ganondorf would still deem his ambition too small. Respect: Giovanni’s control and cunning. Ire: Too focused on wealth and control of a single region.

Demise

Team Galactic: Demise, as a primal force of destruction, would find Cyrus’ ambitions admirable but ultimately flawed. While reshaping the world is grand, Demise thrives on raw power and dominance, not order or balance. Cyrus’ cold, logical approach would be seen as a weak substitute for the raw chaos Demise embodies. Respect: The ambition to reshape reality. Ire: Lack of raw chaos and power.

Team Magma: Demise would likely side more with Team Magma than Team Aqua due to his affinity with heat and fire. Maxie’s desire to expand land, while still not quite aligned with Demise’s lust for absolute dominance, would appeal to Demise more than Team Aqua’s watery ambitions. However, Demise would still find their methods too soft. Respect: Expansion of land and fire. Ire: Their scientific approach to power instead of brute force.

Team Rocket: Demise would likely dismiss Giovanni’s ambitions as too mundane. However, he might appreciate Giovanni’s control over powerful Pokémon and criminal syndicates. Still, Demise seeks ultimate destruction and control, while Giovanni is content with financial gain and regional control. Respect: Giovanni’s tactical prowess. Ire: Small, regional ambitions.

In conclusion, while each villainous team offers some elements of ambition or power that the various Ganondorfs and Demise could respect, most would fail to meet their standards for true dominance and control. Teams with cosmic goals or manipulation through fear (like Team Galactic and Team Plasma) might garner some admiration, but others would be dismissed as weak or lacking vision.

[religiononhellsite]

Potentially Problematic Genealogy of #cottage core (Entry 03)

Where can religion, queerness, feminism, purity culture, and other fandoms lead on Tumblr?

My research so far causes me to feel like I need a conspiracy board to explain. This is because if you start somewhere innocuous, such as exploring queerness and seeking resources or community for one’s queer identity, as many youth come to Tumblr to do (McCracken 156), you will likely start with relevant tags such as #queer, #LGBTQ+, #gay, #lesbian, and #transgender. As was already explored with the intersections between transgender related tags and TERFs, the #lesbian tag will also quickly lead to TERFism, especially with the anti-trans appropriation of the labyrs symbol/flag, as seen in the two posts below where #lesbian and #radfem are directly correlated.

Searching for most LGBTQ+ content will also lead to the aesthetics of such, be it pride flags, educational blogs, or art; but for the purposes of this research the connection to the #cottage core aesthetic is the most noteworthy because #cottage core is a nexus of intersections with religion, queerness, feminism, and purity culture. “Cottage core” is characterized as pastel colors and an idealized European-esque rural/country life.

The first branch of #cottage core will lead to the 1950s aesthetic, then #trad wives and traditional gender roles, then Christianity and biblical womanhood; then you have returned to the very purity culture someone may have been trying to get away from. Refer to the following four posts.

The Christian purity culture side is often accompanied by posts containing anti-Satanic rhetoric or general sentiments against other religions, anti-queerness, and support for chastity and repressed sexuality. Unfortunately, due to the nature of Tumblr, finding posts can sometimes be difficult with certain topics and this is one of them. The particular intersection between Christian traditional life posts and anti-Satanism and disdain for non-Christians is documented by STRANGE ÆONS and has also been anecdotally observed by myself.

The connection #cottage core has with traditional gender roles can lead back to feminist discourses resisting those traditional views and purity culture, but can also lead to the anti-feminist and Women Against Feminism sides of Tumblr which will be evaluated in several instances later. Moving from traditional gender roles you will see posts contrasting the “liberated feminist” (negative) with the “traditional wife” (positive), then to the Trad Girl memes and Men Going Their Own Way, both of which will intersect with Nazism/white supremacy as the Trad Girl meme has racist connotations and Men Going Their Own Way view white women as “corrupted” by feminism thusly requiring them to exclusively seek out non-white women for sexual/romantic conquest, then these tags will move to Christian nationalism, and back once again to purity culture. This genealogy is documented in the eight posts below.

Additionally, #cottage core breaks off to become radical anti-capitalist escapism, then queer discourses mostly centered on subverting Christian influence; that leads to neopagan/witchcraft and/or Satanism. Both of these will loop back around to Christian purity culture and biblical womanhood through those fandoms’ anti-Satanist/non-Christian perspectives. This pipeline is witnessed in the next seven posts below.

However, as much as the previous pipeline through queerness to neopaganism/witchcraft seems to be a more liberative pipeline someone can stumble into to get away from oppression and find queer solidarity, there is a noteworthy divergence. Neopagan/witchcraft can branch off to the #goblincore aesthetic which will return through queerness, anti-capitalist escapism, and back to #cottage core; but the other branch will lead to the Nazi/white supremacist sides of neopaganism, then back to Men Going Their Own Way, which can then become Christian Nationalism, traditional gender roles, and once more back to purity culture and biblical womanhood. Fortunately Tumblr’s current content moderation policies seem to have made it difficult to show explicitly Nazi/white supremacist connections to neopaganism, but here is an article from the University of Alberta discussing this, and here is one from The Atlantic. Moreover, the Asatru Folk Assembly (often abbreviated on Tumblr as AFA) is a notorious Nazi/white supremacist religious organization based out of California; this is similar to the Odinic Rite though their home location is unknown. Both groups use the Nine Noble Virtues, the “Black Sun” sigil, and reference Asatru as dog whistles and to provide subtle covers for their ingrained bigotry and origins in the German Nazi Party. Other Nazi/white supremacist neopagans/witches unaffiliated with Asatru Folk Assembly or Odinic Rite will also use the Black Sun, Nine Noble Virtues, and/or Asatru as ways to signal each other both in-person and online. Below is an example of a post/blog that is clearly aligned with neopagan/witchy Nazi/white supremacist ideologies and below that is a call-out post/meme attempting to educate others about the Black Sun and connections to Asatru. The latter post serves as a great example of additional important discourse also being added in the tags.

The last genealogy for now is #cottage core, to the #coquette aesthetic. #coquette is characterized by hyper femme, young/teen girlish aesthetics, and often contains overtly Christian imagery with crosses, crucifixes, angels, and commentary rejecting the religion (usually found in the tags). Interestingly, #coquette tends to lead in two different directions which both return to Christian purity culture. The first pipeline – shared in-part in the three posts below but which I will not be completing for obvious reasons – goes from #coquette, to #loli and related kink tags like #dd/lg (Daddy Dom, Little Girl), which then lead to pedophile/Minor Attracted Person (MAP) discourses, those then intersect with both Men Going Their Own Way and traditional womanhood/gender roles as pedos/MAPs want girls before they are “corrupted” by feminism, then you have practically returned to Christian purity culture.

The second pipeline, seen in the next two posts, starts at the intersection of #coquette with #divine femininity, then that can either lead back to the queer and neopagan/witchcraft pipeline; or back to the #lesbian, to #RadFem/#gender critical/#TERF, then to those groups’ supposedly resisting conservative gender roles but actually creating their own “anti-trans purity culture of ‘womanhood.’” Considering gender criticals and “gender ideology” originates with anti-feminist right-right Christians and was heavily disseminated by the Catholic Church who claimed gender egalitarianism, sexual liberation, and LGBTQ+ issues were all an attack on family values (Pearce 681), are these TERFs and trans-exclusionary lesbians actually as far removed from Christian purity culture as some of their posts would indicate?

Being able to perfectly screen capture the full genealogies of Tumblr posts centering on queerness, feminism, religion, and purity culture (or any topic) is not always possible due to the mysterious nature of the platform’s algorithm. Sometimes there are posts with no tags which clearly state something related to the tags for which you searched, posts can get removed by the creators or content moderation, and the posts under popular tags like #lgbtq, #Christian, or #cottage core will substantially change every day. Since factors like follower count, verified accounts for celebrities/public figures, or artificially boosted posts are not part of the algorithm none of them are directly related to how popular a post becomes, resulting in anyone suddenly gaining unforeseen engagement for a random post they made recently or in the past. However, the amount of interaction you want on Tumblr can often be finely tweaked using tags to increase or decrease one’s chances of being noticed. Additionally, the built in privacy and anonymity of the platform, combined with these other factors, results in Tumblr being referred to as a black hole, considering you can never be certain what or whom you will find and causing it to be different to navigate (though many sources will claim “difficult”) (Cavalcante 1715-1716; Keller 8). Considering all these factors, Tumblr genealogies are best discovered organically as one routinely engages on the platform over long periods of time, thereby making it hard to perfectly record the numerous interactions retroactively or quickly.  

Due to this black hole nature of Tumblr, queer youth seeking to find support can seemingly end up in problematic fandoms or back to the very purity culture and religious oppression they came to the site to escape. But is this really a problem of Tumblr’s? As discussed in Entry 01, the transgender technology of Tumblr enables forms of expression no other social media site can, which is absolutely necessary for communal grassroots discourses, solidarity, and activism for queer, BIPOC, disabled, and feminist perspectives. This “meaningful diversity” is powerful and appealing to much of the existing userbase and to the marginalized youth and young adults who continue to come to Tumblr for that very diversity while figuring themselves out (McCracken 158-159). Thusly, I suspect that demanding or somehow legally requiring the platform make changes reducing the pipelines to problematic fandoms cannot be done without impacting the “transness” and meaningful diversity of Tumblr. Plus, unintentionally encountering or being sucked into harmful communities in the real world and on other social media sites are already risks. What then can be done to mitigate people falling too far down the wrong side of this black hole or help people avoid and resist oppression in other aspects of life?

Works Cited:

Cavalcante, Andre. “Tumbling Into Queer Utopias and Vortexes: Experiences of LGBTQ Social Media Users on Tumblr.” Journal of Homosexuality 66, no. 12 (2019): 1715–1735.

Keller, Jessalynn. “‘Oh, She’s a Tumblr Feminist’: Exploring the Platform Vernacular of Girls’ Social Media Feminisms.” Social media + Society 5, no. 3 (2019): 60-77

McCracken, Allison. “Tumblr Youth Subcultures and Media Engagement.” Cinema Journal 57, no. 1 (2017): 151-161.

Pearce, Ruth, Sonja Erikainen, and Ben Vincent. “TERF Wars: An Introduction.” The Sociological Review (Keele) 68, no. 4 (2020): 677-698.

STRANGE ÆONS, “Learning How To Be A Traditional Wife | Tumblr Deep Dive” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i7OjkudXSe0&t=4s).

[lightdancer1]

La Malinche is the most famous Indigenous woman of the era:

Out of all the Indigenous Women of the era, La Malinche is both the most famous and the most infamous. She was a Nahua woman enslaved by the Mayans and 'rescued' by Hernan Cortez's expedition that would ultimately lay the groundwork for New Spain and thus Mexico. She was also the very literal voice that made Cortez's conquest and communication with the Nahua possible, and the mother of the first Mestizo. In classic Mexican fashion she is made a scapegoat in the most nauseatingly self-pitying fashion possible when the Aztec aesthetics (that do not extend to the modern living descendants of the old Nahua nation) grind into the foundation of Hispanic culture.

In truth La Malinche faced hard choices, made of them the best she could, and did so in a way that not only saved her own life but made her from a slave to one of the most powerful women in New Spain.

[t4t4t]

[ID: tag from @thatdykepunkslut : "#it WAS farmland just the colonizers murdered everyone who knew how to grow food from the sand" end ID]

Various assorted quotes from Dark Emu by Bruce Pascoe:

[A]rchaeologists and prehistorians constructed the archaeological record to scientifically vindicate the colonialist notions of savagery and staged progressivism to leave little doubt that Indigenous peoples, particularly ‘hunter-gatherers’, represented primordial man … [and that archaeology] has little to do with the rigors of science and all to do with a colonial ideology and a … public that wishes to find scientific support to legitimize colonial dispossession of Aboriginal lands and to delegitimize contemporary Aboriginal claims to Native Title rights.

Some say the idea that the world's trajectory is driven by conquest followed by innovation and intensification is satisfying to the Western mind because of our psychological dependence on our imperialist history. But if we give consideration to the idea that change can be generated by the spirit, and through that by political action, the stability of Australian Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures might be more readily explained.

The yam was a crucial plant in the economy of pre-colonial Aboriginal Australia, but few have examined this productive tuber. Surely we can no longer ignore such a valuable plant or the commercial opportunities it offers.

Isolation and depravation were considered the reason Aboriginal people did not 'advance' like Europeans, but it is also true the idea to pour boiling oil on enemies seems not to have occurred to anyone in Australia.

If we look at the evidence presented to us by the explorers, and explain to our children that Aboriginal people did build houses, did build dams, did sow, irrigate, and till the land, did alter the course of rivers, did sew their clothes, and did construct a system of pan-continental government that generated peace and prosperity, it is likely we will admire and love our land all the more. Admiration and love are not sufficient in themselves, but they are the foundation of a more productive interaction with the continent.

Any country will have naysayers among its citizenry, be it regarding climate change, birth control, taxation, gun control, or speed limits; however, if the general population persists in hiding from obvious facts of history, we are destined to repeat the selective opinions of the colonists.

The underestimation of Indigenous achievement was a deliberate tactic of British colonialism. Large structures of North American First Nations people were similarly ignored, or credited to earlier Europeans; and in South Africa, Cecil Rhodes made it illegal for anyone to mention the huge Shona structures found in what was once Rhodesia and is now Zimbabwe.

[C]olonial settlers ignored the Aboriginal method, and that contemporary Australians still suffer from the result. The Aboriginal methods of land management were not just practical, but aesthetically pleasing.

in the same vein as that last post about cottagecore and American colonialism, there's this incredibly pervasive attitude in Australia that "everyone (settlers) live on the coast and noone (important) lives in the interior", so you get genius ideas like "let's divert a river and flood central Australia for farmland!" and "lets sell of huge swathes of land to mining companies" like people haven't been living there about longer than anywhere else on earth. it ties into the colonial view of deserts and lack of care for ecosystems but it's genuinely such a mainstream idea that noone lives there and it's just going to waste, terra nullius still alive and well unfortunately.

diversity win this gay coloniser wants to "move into the bush" with their fifteen cats they let run wild and will go straight to the governor general if someone shoots them for being invasive. this sure doesn't look like the frontier wars! it's cottagecore!

[longformeditions]

LE040 Alexandra Spence Immaterial

Alexandra Spence is an artist and musician from Sydney, Australia. She makes performances, compositions and installations based on (everyday) sound and listening. Alex's practice draws from phenomenology, psychogeography, and acoustic ecology to examine the ways in which our individual notions of place and identity are shaped and mediated through sound. Through her practice she reimagines the intricate relationships between the listener, the object, and the surrounding environment as a kind of communion or conversation. Her aesthetic favours field recordings, analog technologies and object interventions (she holds the pseudo-scientific belief that electricity might actually be magic).

Alex has performed and presented work in Australia, Canada, Europe, and Asia, including the Vancouver Art Gallery, Vancouver; Late Junction on BBC Radio 3; SoundCamp festival, London; Ausland, Berlin; Contemporary Musiking Hong Kong's Sound Forms festival, Hong Kong; Ftarri, Tokyo; Museum of Contemporary Art, Sydney; NOW Now festival, Sydney; Firstdraft Gallery, Sydney; and Liveworks festival with Liquid Architecture, Sydney. Her debut album Waking, She Heard The Fluttering, recently released on Room40, received critical acclaim in The Wire magazine and The Quietus.

Artist notes: I spent a two-month period on residency in Hong Kong and was instantly drawn to the colour and vibrancy of the city, as well as to certain materials and objects that kept reappearing on my explorations. Billowy, gauzy construction cloth that covered spiny bamboo scaffolding, the devastatingly-inviting colourful-sheen of single-use plastics, discarded durian husks, the deep blue night-time sky made hazy/dreamy/luminous from neon lighting, lush and vibrant green foliage.

I was thinking about the small variations in the repetition of these materials, as well as the repetition of certain images and sounds. The phasing on/off flash of orange construction lights lining long stretches of road; the rhythmic phasing of multiple pedestrian crossing beeps heard simultaneously. The overhead circling of the kites (seabirds) in the sky; the below-water circling of plastic bags in the harbour.

For a little while now I’ve been cultivating an obsession with the relationships between sound, material/object and texture. How feeling can inform listening, how listening is feeling, and how this felt-listening can alter our perception of things as we are taught to know them. For me listening is acknowledging the intrinsic connections between our surroundings and ourselves. If we acknowledge the vibrancy and resonance of everyday objects how might this change our actions and thinking around them.

“My hunch is that the image of dead or thoroughly instrumentalised matter feeds human hubris and our earth-destroying fantasies of conquest and consumption. It does so by preventing us from detecting (seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, feeling) a fuller range of the nonhuman powers circulating around and within human bodies.” Jane Bennett in Vibrant Matter

It occurred to me, whilst writing this and listening back, that not only are materials amplified in Immaterial but certain sounds appear almost material in themselves, such as the squeak of shoes on basketball courts, and the droplets of rain on foliage. These sounds seem not to belong to shoe or court, rain or leaf, but are formed in the entwining to become a thing in themselves. It is this connectedness through sound that I am fascinated with. Through sound unequal forms can be connected: mic distortion disguises itself as crinkling plastic bags that blends into the crackling sound of shrimp underwater.

Sound waves traverse through our bodies and our surroundings, forming knots and vibrations and connections and confusions. In sound material blends with the immaterial and new imaginaries can be made, for me this is a way out. Immaterial was composed in parallel to these thoughts. Like silky-soft milky tea tasted alongside a crispy-sweet pineapple bun.

Cantonese overheard: (voices in the background) Here! Here! (uncle) Walk after the 2nd team pass! (voice in a speakerphone)I want to ask if I can have reports from other colleagues. (response)Your colleague’s there. Hurry up. What’s fucking wrong with you? You sure you don’t want it, Brother Tong? No! I’m seeing my daughters now. I am walking, on my way to see them. (a man probably talks about drinks) (the other man) How about yourself? (woman’s voice in a speakerphone) Please speak.

(This, probably, is a phone conversation between two construction workers): Hey (a name) tell me when you find it. Buy in Yau Ma Tei where they sell that stuff. …Yeah, yeah. Tomorrow, I’ll… You do your search and I do mine. Now Kyun Kee said it was fine being a little bit short. It won’t be a problem if you tuck in the aluminium tube, otherwise it will be fucking ugly. You do your search and I do mine. Whoever finds it makes a call, alright? (music: Love in Deep Autumn by Alan Tam)…the love is dead and lingers in my heart. Reminisce myself in the memories… See if you go… yeah, see if you go by the east or by the west. I’ve been there once a long time ago…

Thank you to Karen Yu for playing some percussion heard on this track, and for taking me on a Chinese-gong shopping trip. Thank you to Nerve and Wendy Lee at 20α (Twenty Alpha) for their support and loan of quality time with an Arp 2600. Thank you to Fiona Lee and to soundpocket for sharing thoughts on field recording, and taking me to special locations. Thank you to 龢 and Li Yan Chung for their English translations of the Cantonese overheard whilst field recording. Thank you to the Hong Kong Arts Centre, Asialink Arts and Create NSW for granting me this residency. And to Remy Siu and Contemporary Musiking Hong Kong for introducing me to the local scene via Sound Forms festival. Thank you to my relatives Luke and Sarah for allowing their recorded voices to participate on this track. Thank you to the Hong Kong music and art community and to the new friends made. Thank you also to my friends, family, partner and cat. The week I left Hong Kong was the first of protests that are still going. I support Hong Kongers in their determination for civil and political rights.

All sounds heard on Immaterial (excepting one recording of clarinet) were recorded in Hong Kong between April and June 2019. Composed, performed, recorded and mixed by Alexandra Spence Additional percussion by Karen Yu Mastered by A.F. Jones at Laminal Audio

[influencermagazineuk]

2025 promises to be a landmark year for gamers, with a stellar lineup of titles that redefine genres, expand narratives, and push the boundaries of immersive gameplay. Here’s a look at the top contenders for Game of the Year, each offering a unique experience. Civilization VII The legendary strategy series returns with Civilization VII, refining its iconic “4X” formula: explore, expand, exploit, exterminate. Players will have greater flexibility in choosing leaders and civilizations, guiding their empire from antiquity to the modern era, through diplomacy or conquest. With its February 11 release across all platforms, this installment promises to breathe new life into the franchise. Grand Theft Auto VI The gaming world is holding its breath for Rockstar’s Grand Theft Auto VI. This installment, set in the vibrant and chaotic Vice City—a fictionalized Miami—marks the series’ first female protagonist, Lucia, who navigates crime and chaos alongside her partner. Following the unparalleled success of GTA V, this game is poised to be a cultural phenomenon. Release details remain under wraps, but anticipation is already sky-high. Lost Records: Bloom & Rage From the creators of Life is Strange comes a heartfelt narrative adventure about a group of teenage bandmates reunited 27 years later by a dark secret. Spanning two timelines—the magical summer of 1995 and the present day—this game is a poignant exploration of friendship and mystery. Launching on February 18 for PlayStation 5, Xbox, and PC, it’s a must-play for story-driven gamers. Monster Hunter Wilds Capcom’s Monster Hunter series evolves with Wilds, offering breathtaking environments teeming with colossal creatures. Known for its intense combat and grandiose weaponry, this February 28 release on PlayStation 5, Xbox, and PC promises to captivate both veterans and newcomers. Atomfall Set in an alternate 1950s Britain devastated by a nuclear accident, Atomfall combines survival mechanics with a richly atmospheric setting inspired by classics like Doctor Who and Quatermass. Launching on March 27 for PC, PlayStation, and Xbox, this Rebellion title blends retro aesthetics with gripping storytelling. DOOM: The Dark Ages DOOM goes medieval in this adrenaline-fueled installment. Featuring gothic castles, sci-fi dragons, and a chainsaw-shield combo, the game embodies the developer’s promise of making players “the super weapon in a medieval war against Hell.” While the release date remains TBD, it’s sure to deliver unforgettable mayhem. Metroid Prime 4 After a decade-long wait, Metroid Prime 4 is expected to set new standards for sci-fi adventure. Starring the iconic Samus Aran, this Retro Studios project remains shrouded in mystery, but expectations for its groundbreaking design are sky-high. Likely to debut on Nintendo’s next-gen console, it’s a dream come true for fans of the franchise. Like a Dragon: Pirate Yakuza in Hawaii Sega brings pirate-themed absurdity to its Yakuza series with flamboyant fan-favorite Goro Majima cast as an amnesiac pirate. Releasing on February 21, this extravaganza includes naval combat, treasure hunts, and plenty of over-the-top action. Fable Returning after years of dormancy, Fable brings its signature British wit and humor to a new era. Featuring Richard Ayoade and Matt King, this Xbox and PC title aims to blend nostalgia with fresh ideas. A release date hasn’t been announced, but the buzz is undeniable. Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 This French dark-fantasy adventure tasks players with exploring a surreal Paris ravaged by a supernatural curse. With its haunting premise and meticulously crafted environments, Clair Obscur stands out as one of the most innovative games of the year. Release details remain TBD, but it’s already turning heads. From strategic brilliance to action-packed epics, 2025 is set to be a monumental year for gamers. Each title promises a unique experience, ensuring that players across genres will find something to love. Read the full article

[abhinavuhblog]

Major Study: Digital Media Art

Creating Immersive Backgrounds: Explore the Majestic Photorealistic Mountains and Dive into Enchanting Sceneries Beyond.

Expanded Sentences: In the realm of 3D scene creation, the background elements serve as the unseen pillars that uphold the very essence of the project, infusing it with depth and atmosphere. Among these elements, photorealistic mountains emerge as majestic guardians, weaving a tapestry of scale, distance, and engagement for the viewer. When these mountains are thoughtfully incorporated, they not only enhance the visual aesthetics of the setting but also transport the observer into a world that feels palpably real and immersive, grounding them in a universe that beckons exploration.

It is crucial to recognize that background elements in 3D scenes transcend their role as passive adornments; they act as portals that connect the audience to the narrative unfolding before their eyes. Photorealistic mountains, with their rugged peaks and lush valleys, possess the remarkable ability to stir a spectrum of emotions within the spectator, be it a sense of wonder at nature's magnificence or a longing for the tranquility of distant horizons. By faithfully rendering these natural features in all their grandeur, digital artists bridge the chasm between virtuality and reality, granting viewers a glimpse into a world that resonates with their own experiences and memories.

Consider scenarios like automotive visualizations, where the inclusion of photorealistic mountains can elevate the stakes of the narrative, transforming a static image into a dynamic tale of exploration and discovery. The presence of these mountains not only adds visual interest but also infuses the scene with a sense of movement and direction, hinting at adventures yet to unfold. By immersing the viewer in a landscape brimming with possibilities, digital artists create a visual symphony that speaks to the innate human desire for exploration and conquest.

[journeythroughsurrey]

Discovering Guildford Castle: A Journey Through Surrey's Medieval Gem

When you visit Guildford Castle in Surrey, England, you're stepping into a piece of history that dates back to the 11th century. Built shortly after the Norman Conquest, it's believed to have been commissioned by William the Conqueror himself. As you explore its Gothic architecture and panoramic views from the Great Tower, you can't help but wonder about the monarchs like King John and King Henry III who once resided there. The castle grounds, with their lush gardens and ongoing restoration efforts, offer more than just visual appeal. But what secrets do these ancient stones hold?

History of Guildford Castle

Guildford Castle, believed to have been built shortly after the Norman Conquest, has a rich history dating back to the 11th century. When you visit, you'll find that it's not just an old stone structure but a monument brimming with historical significance.

The castle initially served as a royal residence, underscoring its strong royal connections. William the Conqueror's influence is evident, as he likely commissioned the castle to fortify his new reign over England. Another grand historical site in Surrey similarly showcases the power and influence of England's monarchy, providing visitors with a deeper understanding of the nation's royal heritage.

Over the centuries, Guildford Castle played a vital role in various historical events. It was a favored retreat for King John and King Henry III, who both spent significant time within its walls. Their stays there underline the castle's importance in royal circles.

Additionally, its strategic location made it a key military outpost during turbulent periods, offering protection and overseeing the surrounding regions.

Architectural Features

As you explore the rich history of Guildford Castle, you'll notice its architectural features reveal much about the era and its builders. The castle is a fascinating blend of Gothic architecture and robust defensive structures, designed to withstand sieges and symbolize power.

Walking through the castle, you'll be captivated by several distinctive elements:

The Great Tower: This central structure, with its thick walls and narrow windows, served both as a residence and a last line of defense. Its imposing height provided a vantage point for surveying the surrounding area.

The Arched Doorways and Windows: Characteristic of Gothic architecture, these features aren't just aesthetically pleasing but also functional, allowing light while maintaining structural integrity.

The Curtain Walls: Surrounding the castle, these formidable walls were built to deter attackers. Made of solid stone, they reflect the medieval emphasis on fortification.

These architectural features offer a glimpse into medieval life, showcasing the blend of artistry and practicality. As you wander through Guildford Castle, the Gothic touches and strategic defensive structures will transport you back to a time when castles were bastions of power and security.

The Castle Grounds

Exploring the castle grounds, you'll find lush gardens, ancient ruins, and stunning views that paint a vivid picture of its historical significance. The castle gardens are meticulously maintained, featuring an array of vibrant flowers and well-kept pathways that invite you to take a leisurely stroll. As you wander, you'll come across informational plaques that shed light on the rich history surrounding you.

The grounds also include designated picnic areas, perfect for a relaxing lunch amidst the serene setting. Whether you're with family, friends, or on a solo adventure, these spots allow you to take in the beauty and tranquility of the surroundings. Spread out a blanket, unpack your basket, and enjoy a meal while basking in the picturesque scenery.

You'll also encounter ancient ruins that add to the charm and mystique of Guildford Castle. These remnants offer a tangible connection to the past, making your visit feel like a step back in time. The combination of natural beauty and historical intrigue guarantees that the castle grounds aren't just a place to explore but a space to savor and reflect.

Significant Events

Delving into the history of Guildford Castle, you'll find that it has hosted numerous significant events that have shaped its legacy. This iconic structure stands as a representation to centuries of British history, marked by moments of royal significance and medieval battles. The castle's rich past is etched with events that not only influenced the region but also echoed through England's broader historical narrative.

Coronation Celebrations: Guildford Castle played a pivotal role during royal coronation ceremonies. It was a site where nobility gathered to pledge allegiance and partake in grand festivities.

Medieval Skirmishes: The castle's strategic location made it a focal point during medieval battles. Its fortifications witnessed sieges and conflicts that were essential in the power struggles of the time.

Royal Residences: At various points, the castle served as a royal residence. Monarchs, including King Henry III, used it as a retreat, thereby bolstering its royal significance.

As you explore the history of Guildford Castle, you'll uncover stories of valor, political intrigue, and royal grandeur, each event adding a layer of depth to this historic landmark.

Restoration Efforts

While Guildford Castle's historical significance is evident through its storied past, its preservation required dedicated restoration efforts. You might wonder how a structure so old has remained intact. The answer lies in meticulous restoration techniques employed over the years. Experts have carefully analyzed the castle's original construction methods to guarantee any repairs are as authentic as possible. Using materials that match the original, like specific types of stone and mortar, has been vital in maintaining the castle's historical integrity.

Restoration is no small feat; it comes with numerous conservation challenges. One of the biggest hurdles has been battling the natural wear and tear caused by centuries of exposure to the elements. Water damage, for example, poses a significant threat to the castle's stonework. To combat this, specialists have used modern technology to improve drainage systems and protect the walls from further erosion.

Another challenge has been the need to balance accessibility with preservation. While you want to explore every nook and cranny of the castle, it's essential that these areas are protected from additional wear caused by foot traffic. These efforts guarantee Guildford Castle remains a historical treasure for future generations.

Visitor Information

When planning your visit to Guildford Castle, you'll find essential information that will help you make the most of your experience.

Start by checking the ticket prices, which are quite reasonable. Admission gives you access to the castle grounds and the keep, where you can explore at your own pace. Don't forget to take into account the guided tours, which provide fascinating insights into the castle's history and architecture. These tours are led by knowledgeable guides who bring the past to life with engaging stories and facts.

To help you visualize your visit, here are some highlights you can look forward to:

Stunning Views: Climb to the top of the Great Tower for panoramic views of Guildford and the surrounding countryside.

Beautiful Gardens: Stroll through the manicured gardens, filled with vibrant flowers and lush greenery.

Historical Exhibits: Explore various exhibits that showcase the castle's rich history, including artifacts and informational displays.

Make sure to check the castle's official website for the latest information on opening hours and any special events.

Nearby Attractions

Guildford Castle's prime location means you're just a short walk away from several other remarkable attractions.

For a fun family outing, head to Stoke Park, where you'll find extensive playgrounds, a skate park, and beautiful green spaces perfect for picnics. It's an ideal spot for kids to burn off some energy while you relax and enjoy the scenery.

If you're interested in history and culture, the Guildford Museum is nearby. It offers fascinating exhibits about the area's rich history, making it great for family activities.

For a more tranquil experience, take a stroll along the River Wey Navigation. The towpath is perfect for a peaceful walk or a leisurely bike ride, and the natural beauty of the waterway provides a lovely backdrop.

When it comes to local dining, you're spoilt for choice. Just a stone's throw from the castle, you'll find a range of eateries catering to all tastes.

Whether you're in the mood for traditional British fare, international cuisine, or a quick coffee and cake, Guildford's vibrant culinary scene has something to offer.

Don't miss the chance to try some local specialties in one of the charming pubs or cafes scattered around town.

Tips for Visiting

To make the most of your visit to Guildford Castle, start by checking the opening hours and any special events happening during your stay. This way, you can plan your visit around the most exciting activities and avoid any unexpected closures.

Guildford Castle offers a variety of accessibility options, ensuring that everyone can enjoy exploring this historic site. Ramps and clear pathways facilitate easy movement for visitors with mobility needs. Another iconic landmark in Surrey similarly ensures accessibility for all, making it a welcoming destination for those eager to explore both history and nature. Before you go, it's a good idea to contact the castle directly to confirm specific accessibility features that may be relevant to you.

Enhance your experience by joining one of the guided tours. These tours provide in-depth information about the castle's history, architecture, and the surrounding gardens. Knowledgeable guides share intriguing stories and lesser-known facts that you might miss if you explore on your own.

To visualize your trip, imagine:

Strolling through the beautifully manicured gardens, bursting with seasonal flowers.

Climbing to the top of the castle keep, where you can take in panoramic views of Guildford and the Surrey countryside.

Listening to engaging tales from a local guide, bringing the castle's rich history to life.

Plan ahead, and you'll be in for a memorable visit!

Frequently Asked Questions

Are There Any Legends or Ghost Stories Associated With Guildford Castle?

You'll find several castle hauntings and historical apparitions linked to Guildford Castle. Locals often talk about eerie sights and sounds, including ghostly figures and unexplained phenomena, making it a hotspot for paranormal enthusiasts.

What Is the Best Time of Year to See the Gardens in Full Bloom?

You'll find the gardens in full bloom during late spring. This time of year showcases vibrant spring blooms and a stunning array of seasonal colors. Don't miss the chance to experience the garden's peak beauty!

Are There Any Guided Tours Available for Children at Guildford Castle?

Yes, there are guided tours available for children. You'll find educational programs and children's activities that make learning history fun and engaging. It's a great way for kids to explore and enjoy their visit.

Can Visitors Bring Their Pets to the Castle Grounds?

You're probably wondering if you can bring your pets. Check the pet policies first. Some areas might be pet-friendly, but restrictions could apply. Always verify your furry friend is welcome before planning your visit.

Is There a Gift Shop or Café at Guildford Castle?

Yes, there's a gift shop with various offerings like souvenirs and books. You'll also find a café with a menu featuring light snacks and beverages. It's perfect for a quick break during your visit.

As you wrap up your visit to Guildford Castle, you'll leave with a sense of awe at its rich history and stunning architecture.

Don't forget to wander through the beautiful gardens and take in the panoramic views from the Great Tower.

The ongoing restoration efforts guarantee that this historic gem continues to captivate visitors.

Make sure to explore nearby attractions and enjoy all that Surrey has to offer.

You won't regret your trip!

After enjoying the historic charm and breathtaking views at Guildford Castle, why not continue your exploration of Surrey? If you're in need of top-notch gutter cleaning services, Surrey Gutter Cleaners is just a short drive away.

Conveniently located within Surrey, our expert team is ready to ensure your home remains in perfect condition. Here's how you can find us from Guildford Castle.

Gutter Cleaners Surrey

Westfield Rd, Slyfield Industrial Estate, Guildford GU1 1SD, United Kingdom

+442039875074

7C6P+W4 Guildford, United Kingdom