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A LEGEND OF ZELDA ROLEPLAY
Welcome to ZRP! We are an non-canon RP site with an original tale taking place within the
lore of the Zelda Franchise. While the events of this site are entirely non-canon, we take advantage of the canons of other
games to explain its story fully. As such, we are located within the CANON TIMELINE. Do you like what you see? If so, feel free
to register and join our story! If you have any questions, you can join our discord, located in our important links!
11/12/21 GUESS WHO'S BACK! Thats right, and we are cooking up a good ol reset for everyone. Please be patient as things will be a little empty as we archive. Pop into discord if you have questions.
Sable watched the back and forth between the group largely in silence; her task on the ground was to gather information about people and to further her own understanding of the other races, given their less-than-active presence in the sky. And what she was learning was highly valuable, if a little expected.
The Zora, Panos, was the first she had met during her time down here, and came across as arrogant, prideful, and acting with a veneer of tact that was easily visible. While the matriarch had moved education to look a little less critically upon the races of the ground, both she and Sable had grown up in a much different time, when they were taught stereotypes and unfair expectations. Unfortunately, this act spoke to some of those stereotypes, a primitive façade of civilisation overlaying a feral nature that rose to the surface in the eyes and the behaviours. Sable hoped to meet some others while she was here to look for more examples; after all, every race had its creeps.
The human, Maude, was impressing Sable. While the Rito was happy to fade into the background and observe for the time being- something she found she was good at- Maude took the initiative and called out against the snide hooks and marks of Panos. She was prideful, but it was an earned pride, pride in something she had created and was able to sell. That was the pride of the Rito as well. Pride in your creations and your good works.
At Panos’s compliments to her appearance, Sable held down her discomfort. Apparently she had not done quite so well at fading into the background as she had hoped. She met his gaze, nerves cool with distaste that did not yet cross into disgust, and nodded her head slightly. “We have learned that to come to the ground often means danger and unfriendly company, and therefore do not stray from our home. I appreciate your compliments, however, and will be relaying the kindness back.” She would happily hold off on disclosing further information regarding her mission or personal curiosities.
and in your heart shall burn an ever-present desire of me
Much to her chagrin, Sable was taken off guard by the Matriarch’s statement. She had perhaps mistaken or miscalculated the length of time she was meant to take some time to think it over, but perhaps Tiaris had simply expected she would jump at the opportunity to please her leader. They’d have to get to know each other a little better than that first; if dreams didn’t count, Sable was still a virtuous young woman.
She could see the lines forming now, though. The little threads of conversational possibilities lying before her each begging to be taken. The Matriarch was giving her an opportunity to drop some formality, challenging her in hopes of seeing more than just interest. She knew the last sentence wasn’t chiding, it was a challenge. If there was anything she liked more than a pursuit, it was a challenging one.
“Perhaps you are right,” she demured, casting her glance upon the guards for but a moment before resuming eye contact, “there is no reason to rush things. Do you wish to accompany me to my resignation, or would you prefer I meet with you at the Grand Hall after? I fear I’ve never been inside, so I will need assistance finding my new workplace.”
The more she looked at the pumpkins, the more impressed by them Sable became. She was eavesdropping in on the conversation, of course - to do anything else would be untrue to her core- but it wasn’t all that interesting. She had already known the woman was a noble, knowing her specific rank didn’t seem all that interesting or useful to what she was going for. All she was picking up from this was that the Gerudo and Human were close and that the latter was far too adorable to hunt.
The Gerudo on the other hand, after the initial moment of confusion (like seeing a teacher outside a school, really), was in fact the same one she had… seen around the City from time to time. It could have come off rude to just tell someone she had spent some quality time with she didn’t recognise her at first specifically because she hadn’t expected to run into anybody she knew. But while there could be no doubt that Sable and Farrah would recognise one another, she hoped they could both play it cool.
When the human spoke up and showed interest, Sable stood up to look at her straight on. Adorable, to be sure, but very clearly uncomfortable here among all the people. Sable could sympathise, even if she had always been a peacock at heart, just waiting for the crowd. “Good morning to you as well,” she began, realising only after starting how awkward this could go, Farrah in the background or not, “I was actually interested in your pumpkin-growing techniques. I grew some myself until recently and I was never able to get them as colourful and large as yours. I’m infinitely impressed.”
It was at that point that she felt someone else behind her. The presence was like ice in her veins, something intimidating and impending even though she had no cause to know exactly what. It wasn’t until he had begun speaking that she turned to face him, noting immediately that he was a particularly peculiar Zora. Panos Imera Ujua, what a fancy name. But he held out his hand, and before she could think twice about it, Sable’s upbringing took over and she took it gently. “Sable, charmed.” she managed a slight smile despite the distrust in her eyes. Something was bothering her, but she couldn’t tell what or why, and that bothered her even more.
It had taken dedication and hard work, but Sable had earned her first assignment from Tiaris. It wasn’t that she had been necessarily held back from the other half of her job, certainly quite the opposite, but there was only so much Sable could do to learn more about other cultures from the Sky, and she felt she was nearing that ceiling. When she had requested allowance to spend a few days in the Hylian capital, she had not expected to be put in such nice accommodations, nor to have such a generous amount of spending.
It was fairly early, though Sable had been up and wandering around the city for some time. She was wearing a Hylian-styled sleeveless dress, cinched at the waist and ending at her knees, and a soft, cloth cap with a floppy brim that she found cute but was probably annoying to others. Oh well.
She had been learning a lot, filing away little personality hooks of Hylians she saw on the street into her memory so that she could write notes later. This might be a requested trip out of need of pleasure, but that didn’t mean she would avoid doing her job entirely. And look at this! A cute little farmer’s market with a very loud noble shouting food puns at a distressed-looking merchant. So adorable, these groundlings. She could hardly believe the bountiful vegetables, fruits, and grains on display, but one thing in particular captured her attention. Pumpkins.
It wasn’t widely known that the City had once been a veritable pumpkin utopia, and was lost to all but the earliest histories she could find, legendary references to what came before, but it had still interested her. Pumpkins were still grown there, to an extent, but apparently it had been a craze at some point in their history. It had interested her in squash, and she couldn’t stop herself from walking to the stall and smiling at the woman attending it. Before she could speak to her though, a Gerudo (ahhhh, did she recognise her or was that a lack of exposure to the ground races?) came up and began talking while handing over what looked like some frozen treat. Damn, Sable wanted one of those.
To avoid interrupting too much, the Rito began looking at the pumpkins, kind of amazed at how deep their colour was and how large they’d grown. She hadn’t been one of the farmhands, necessarily, but she’d seen a few grown, and they never came out looking this good. She’d wait her turn before gushing about them.
It wasn’t as if she was the type to brag, but it seemed Sable’s long-term goals were starting to come to fruition. While she knew better than to be too confident, she was in the one place she’d always wanted to be: the eyes of the Matriarch. And she was rocking this interview anyway.
The position Tiaris laid out was a complex and important one. This was a good thing; it meant she would be needed long-term, especially if she was able to weave herself into the role to a level that would be impossible to unravel. It was Tiaris herself that had sparked Sable’s interest in the study of different cultures and racial histories. To have that rewarded with an offer to be her personal cultural strategist was everything she could have dreamed. It was almost more appealing to her than the person making the appeal: she fantasised about making little diplomatic appeals wrapped in strings of ulterior motives. The amount of dreams she could wander into, the secrets she could learn. She hungered for it.
Of course, there was the other, more unspoken, perk to having this job. Personal attendant and bookkeeper meant frequent, if not constant, access to Tiaris. Even outside of the proximity to power element, the cultural mores and implications of Rito jobs were not lost on her. Especially once Tiaris paused, then punctuated her offer. The directness of the woman, the burning passion in her eyes, the emotional energy Sable could practically taste, caused the red to creep into her face again. “I… would be honoured, Matriarch. You’ve clearly done your homework on me, which means you know I’ve done mine. I would very much appreciate this opportunity.”
A thought suddenly popped into Sable’s head, and she lit up with a smile. “Would you mind terribly if I came calling tonight, and we can conduct a proper interview?”
Since the Matriarch’s coronation, Sable had found herself particularly taken with her. Her regal stoicism, that tightness around the eyes and lips, certainly had its hooks, but what had made her heart quicken back then was the extreme fire in Tiaris’s eyes. That passion, that rage, a wildfire that had a way of making those witnessing it hot under the collar. Through the years since that day, she’d been simply smitten, but it was difficult if not impossible to just approach someone when she wasn’t a known figure or important. Nor could she easily justify sneaking into Tiaris’s dreams, even for a peek, without meeting in person first.
To have her in her office brought back that excitement yet again. Forgetting herself, she took in the moment, the sight. As Tiaris requested entry, Sable quickly and graciously moved to the side, beckoning her toward one of the comfy chairs. “Please, Matriarch, nothing would please me more.”
With the grace of someone who enjoys being watched, she quickly moved behind her desk and de-activated the Sheikah device. Slender hands lifted the teapot, deftly pouring the just-under-boiling water into the lone teacup until it was nearly full, then lifted the tray and brought it to Tiaris. She waited for the woman’s nod before placing the tray within comfortable reach of her and sitting in the seat nearest her.
Tiaris continued, speaking of her laments at a lack of time- truly a tragedy, how little one could accomplish with a need of sleep – and hinted at something she might need. At the line about an eagerness to please, Sable felt her cheeks flush and she stifled a slight giggle behind her hand, but she regained her composure quickly. Besides that second, her eyes hadn't left Tiaris's. She was swimming in that passion, happier just for being near it. Normally professional and guarded, no doubt she looked every bit as taken as she was.
Straight-backed with her hands clasped -tightly- on her lap, she responded simply, a curious smile on her lips. Her eyes were still locked on the Matriarch's, speaking everything her words did not. “I would be honoured! Consider me your servant, happy to do whatever you ask. What would you need of me?”
If she took a minute to think about it, Sable would have to admit that the day had been going pretty well, all things considered. Harvest season was, obviously, one of the times her office was hardest hit with work, and so she’d come in early that morning to get ahead on requisition paperwork and orders. While the idea of equal division of food was an honourable and simple one, the reality behind it required a lot of oversight and no small amount of bureaucracy.
Fortunately Sable was good at that sort of thing. She enjoyed numbers and people, and this job was both of those things. Her office was modest, at least this version of her office. A simple, sturdy desk held binders of paper, while a quill, ink pot, and her secret ingredient (a backup inkpot) sat to the left side. Her chair was hard and straight-backed, but she’d brought in a pillow from home to sit on top of it so as to not be too uncomfortable. The large, double windows behind her desk were flung fully open, so that she could enjoy the slightly cool breeze coming in from outside. It also allowed her a view of the fields and the ability to occasionally pick up on distant conversation. The murmur of distant noise helped her work more efficiently, the breeze helped keep her mood aloft.
Various rugs and tapestries hung in the office, and a few extra, significantly more comfortable, chairs sat arranged around the front of Sable’s desk for when her superiors visited. The Rito liked keeping a little bit of comfort in the room, and she found that cloth on all surfaces possible did a great deal for that. It also helped insulate her against the unwanted structural noise of an ancient building. A large shelving unit opposite the open window and Sable’s desk held bound papers and folders, decades-long records of previous harvests, censuses, and accounting paperwork to tie them together. While there was no way in hell she was ever going to read through all of that, Sable liked having it around in case she needed something specific referenced. Fortunately for her, the woman who had her job previous had been obsessed with keeping things orderly and clean, so she didn’t have to do anything but arrange her new documents to match what was already there.
Overall, the room was fairly spartan in its décor, which was something Sable enjoyed. While she personally wasn’t the type to wallow in asceticism, something about having a space away from home that was so well-kept helped separate her work from getting too personal. The only luxury she allowed herself was a piece of Sheikah technology, a small iron plate balanced on a wooden base that heated anything sat atop it, currently itself sitting on a small table near the windowsill. A kettle gently puffed steam out of the spout, signalling its proximity to a final squeal. A small, porcelain plate sat next to the Sheikah device, on top of which sat a cup with a small mesh bowl over the top. In the strainer sat several small, blackened and twisted leaves.
A knock at the door came. Sable looked up, confused; she was not expecting anyone, and catching her by surprise was truly a feat. Three sharp raps to the wood denoted authority, professionalism. She was intrigued, but also fairly nervous. Still, she approached the door and smoothed out her dress before opening it. Outside of her swept bangs, her dark red hair was gathered into a loose, low ponytail in the back. She was wearing a high-collared, chestnut blouse and long skirt combo with gold patterning over heeled boots.
The sight of Tiaris with her entourage caused Sable to raise a hand to her mouth. Of all the people she could have anticipated, this was certainly the last. After a few seconds of silence, in which she gathered her thoughts, Sable dipped into a respectful curtsy. “Matriarch, I’m afraid I was unaware of your coming, otherwise I would have prepared.” 3... 2... 1... At that, she raised back up and gave a large, beaming smile, “Unless I can offer you some-” the squeal of the kettle punctuated her sentence perfectly, “-tea.”