@mightiestbanana

@mightiestbanana

When the Yiga reaches a hand out to touch where his fingers dance along the other's throat--that same wrist is held in an almost crushing grip, not seeking to break...yet.

The giddiness of this man makes his hackles rise, no matter how pretty his words may be; And this was the head of the Yiga, who sought the fall of Hyrule? An interesting notion. Remarkably bold, and remarkably stupid, for this one to approach him.

Yet he was a generous King, was he not? And he could always use more bodies as fodder, with tensions high across borders with the Hyrulian pretender. He thinks on this proposal for a long moment of silence, and a breath is sucked in through his teeth, when he deigns to next speak.

"Prove then, your support. If I have your allegiance, truly--If your people would fight alongside mine, for my own goals--I require fealty."

Kohga's pulse thrums in tune with each tap of the talon against his lifeline. " I am.... " he forgoes any other theatrics for this, and pain him as it may, he knows such unnecessary displays might otherwise spell his death. The Yiga is nothing if not shrewd when circumstances demand it.

" The Leader of the Yiga Clan, Master Kohga. We, the Yiga Clan, are a group of ex-Sheikah formed well over a millennium ago with the sole purpose of seeing to the destruction of the Kingdom of Hyrule and all that Goddess Hylia stands for. You might say that we hold a grudge for a very long time. "

" And I am your number one follower, " carefully, oh-so-carefully, Kohga dares to reach for the clawed hand prone at his neck, the gesture nothing short of reverent. He no longer trembles and the grin under his mask nigh manic.

" I—we—have waited so long for your arrival, you who we revere. I believe that you and I have a common goal, Your Magnificence, and am here to offer you the clan's full support. "

" I assure you it is not flattery for the sake of flattery ! I mean what I say. The Kingdom of Hyrule has stood for far too long. I think it's high time we see to its fall, wouldn't you agree, my lord ? "

@mightiestbanana

Too eager. Too loud. Not enough fear.

Yet, he is hungry. Perhaps here, he can sate himself enough that his new...servant, can hobble back to where he came from, before he changes his mind and seeks to tear him limb from limb.

Ganondorf makes a noise like a hum, and his eyes flicker to the wrist still in his grasp; His eyes linger on it uncomfortably long, enough to set the air aflame with tension, a tingling not unlike numbness spreading from where his touch meets the other.

And without warning, his teeth sink into that delicate flesh, relishing the give of it under the slightest pressure, how the skin seems to 'pop!' under the distress. Shadows flood into that open wound as the King contentedly laps at the blood that follows--and when he pulls away from the temptation that is magic-rich, he turns his face back to the other male, uncaring of the red that stains his lips.

"This is your fealty. You will come when I call. Should you not," Ganon squeezes that wrist--where the bleeding has already started to stem, somehow--as a warning. "I will find you, and break you apart, piece by piece. Do you understand?"

Remarkably stupid in many ways, perhaps, but Kohga was a driven man, and damn, if he wasn't going to take a few calculated risks if it meant seeing his ambitions through. And this, this was one he'd waited so, so, so very long to achieve. Centuries of biding his time for the right moment to act and now ! NOW ! It was here, right beneath his palm, even in the crushing grip of an entity whose power he could only deign to imagine. It made him faint with elation were it not for the grasp that stole away his breath, nigh delirious with a feverous joy.

This is almost too good to be true. A most generous king, indeed !

" Excellent, " Kohga nearly drawls. " Whatever you ask, My Lord, then it is yours. So, what do you require of me ? Shall I bend the knee ? Place my lips upon your sacred palm ? "

" You need only ask and I shall see it done ! "

WIP but I haven't seen this version of the meme yet

@mightiestbanana

It's applicable, no?

@topaz-adorned

There was blood spilled upon the sands, and for once, it was not his doing.

He had perhaps come upon the scene too late to see exactly what had happened--but the fact of the matter was that someone else was feasting in his territory, and that was unexcusable. A threat.

So he follows the intoxicating scent of iron to its source, eyes trailing along the form of...a traveller. Being devoured rather messily, by a...hm. Some form of creature, one he was unfamiliar with. Fair enough, he supposed; He wasn't in the mood for conversation tonight.

The demon sinks down into a crouch, just enough to give him more stable footing--and he leaps from the sands to fall upon the intruder, a clawed hand forcing its mouth up and away as he sets his teeth into its shoulder, pulling away with a bit in his mouth, growling low at the taste.

@redempti

Alright. Progress was progress, as much as he wanted to sink his teeth into this man just to wipe the look from his face--

Ganondorf took a breath, straightened himself and his robes, and started a pace of walking to the palace in the city.

"We will have you stay at the palace, for now," His eyes trail to the other's face, and then he turns back to watch where he's walking, steps sure in the cool of the desert night.

"If that is agreeable to you. In the morning, one of my more magically inclined sisters will be asked her counsel. I ask that any issue you have with me does not touch my people--My Kingdom is my pride, and the people in it are precious. Treat them with respect."

"Hmmmn.." he uttered out, but did not take his eyes off of the other before he decided to look to where the other was pointing. His body turned before walking a bit further away from the other. He didn't want to be here. The energy was so damn.. strange. It was familiar and yet it was so very different.

Ganondorf turned his head to look at the other. "Lead the way oh precious King," he spoke in a condescending tone of voice. His face still harsh with wariness.