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Sixth Sin
From Ganondorf's perspective, it had but been mere hours since he had returned to his world, soundly defeated his foes, and returned to Luceti. It was curious that he remembered none of his deeds in this world, but there would be time to dwell on that later. Once again he had arrived in this world in nothing bit ill fitting white pants a few sizes too small for him. The great wound in his chest continues to glow. A clean cut, even the strange unearthly glow can be seen from the other side. Having so obvious a weakness revealed was infuriating. He remembered how much he loathed the Malnosso.
And how much he desired their power.
It was clear time had passed in Luceti in his absence, but he had little way of knowing how much. But he knew the way. So the great lumbering man, all seven and a half feet of him, proceeded back to Luceti. The ground was cold, some of it still icy from the rain a few days ago, and he might have froze if he had not become so accustomed to the cold bitterness of the Twilight Realm. His destination was the clothing store. But it was daylight as he entered town, where anyone and everyone could see. Tedious, really.
After donning his armor once more and claiming a brilliant white blade from the smithy, Ganondorf was left with the curious task of returning to a life of domestic dullness. He'd need a place to sleep, he'd have to collect groceries, exchange pleasantries with people far beneath him, and bide his time in this most curious of prisons. He hated it already. But he could be found in the village doing just that. Eventually he would settle on a home far removed from the village, but not until later.
Later he would address the journals:
[Written]
By my last reckoning, it was the month 'January' in the fifth cycle of this enclosure. I understand much has occurred in this time. I would relish the opportunity to learn what has transpired.
Furthermore... would anyone know what fate befell a woman named Zelda and an assortment of boys sharing the name Link?
((Please check out his permissions!))
And how much he desired their power.
It was clear time had passed in Luceti in his absence, but he had little way of knowing how much. But he knew the way. So the great lumbering man, all seven and a half feet of him, proceeded back to Luceti. The ground was cold, some of it still icy from the rain a few days ago, and he might have froze if he had not become so accustomed to the cold bitterness of the Twilight Realm. His destination was the clothing store. But it was daylight as he entered town, where anyone and everyone could see. Tedious, really.
After donning his armor once more and claiming a brilliant white blade from the smithy, Ganondorf was left with the curious task of returning to a life of domestic dullness. He'd need a place to sleep, he'd have to collect groceries, exchange pleasantries with people far beneath him, and bide his time in this most curious of prisons. He hated it already. But he could be found in the village doing just that. Eventually he would settle on a home far removed from the village, but not until later.
Later he would address the journals:
[Written]
By my last reckoning, it was the month 'January' in the fifth cycle of this enclosure. I understand much has occurred in this time. I would relish the opportunity to learn what has transpired.
Furthermore... would anyone know what fate befell a woman named Zelda and an assortment of boys sharing the name Link?
((Please check out his permissions!))
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"And you hope things'll be different this time 'round."
It wasn't a question.
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He was ambitious. Perhaps more so than anyone else in Luceti. All of reality lied just beyond a simple barrier.
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It wasn't said with disdain but -- perhaps -- an ounce of awe. Sharpe had always been personally ambitious, if not impersonally so. "But haven't dozens of others already tried and failed?"
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It gave Ganon less credit than he would normally give himself.
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He said it as though he didn't quite agree with himself. As though he agreed with Ganondorf more. But it was the sort of argument a man made at this junction. Conversations had to progress thusly.
Didn't they?
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It was, perhaps, a reckless statement. But there was a careful intent behind them. He was sizing this man up: testing his morality.
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Sharpe cleared his throat. "The trick is knowing at what point the collateral damage also damages your chances of success, Ganondorf. Allow too much, and you'll scupper yourself."
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To this fact, Ganondorf did not lie. He coveted Hyrule, but never would he destroy it. While it may be twisted to suit his dark ambitions, he would not harm those that did not oppose him. It was why had desired the power of the gods over all out war. A victory without corpses had always been the one he desired most.
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All the pent up bloodlust. And just plain lust. Sharpe wasn't one for doling out punishment on the men, but behaving like an animal in a stormed town? Aye. That would earn a man all kind of trouble. It didn't matter whether they were British or French or Whatevere, Sharpe would deal with them as he would.
"Of course, they don't always see beyond the immediate plunder."
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Despite the height difference -- and this odd and obvious game of sounding each other out by dint of military philosophy -- Sharpe chided the giant man with a tip of his chin. "I'm a soldier, not a bleeding churchman. That they live? Aye. My responsibility. And if they break policy and martial law, they'll be hanged. Or else flogged to the point of dyin' anyway. When it comes to living rightly, the bishop preaches and the officer punishes."
But only for that which is worth punishing. Sharpe had many criminals in his regiment, but it took an active mind to sort out what was worth coming down hard upon and what was merely acceptable.
"There are rules, of course. Rules of my own."
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"Leave the way they live their lives to their creators, hm?"
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"I see then that nothing has changed in my absence."
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Sharpe swagger-limped his way to the door. Stiff steps and a stiff posture. It would have been cocky except that some of that stiffness certainly came from an old wound, proclaiming to all that the man's swagger had been well-earned. "But I'll take my leave -- err -- Ganondorf. And wish you a decent time in settling back in."
He nearly added that the man should give him a shout should he ever need a drinking partner but -- eh. Some of these things need only be inferred.
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