Demon King Ganondorf (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
menaceunleashed) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
shellphones2025-08-05 07:06 pm
menaceunleashed) wrote in shellphones2025-08-05 07:06 pm
Entry tags:
CW; TORTURE, VIOLENCE
Type: Voice/Video
Sender ID: menaceunleashed | Ganondorf
To: Public
Subject: Regarding Treachery
Warnings: CW; TORTURE, VIOLENCE
I am not one to suffer fools. When I find that not only has one of my crew taken it upon themselves to act beyond stupidly, and more so believed they could use me to their advantage...
A lesson must be taught. An example must be made. Behold, Escordvi- the price of treachery.
[The camera flickers on at this point.
A body hangs dangling, small, bloodied, and ...familiar? The skintone. The hair. That generally scrawny build. They all match a certain riftfarer who has been absent for some time now: off on a mission, then completely unresponsive to even text messages, despite one of their closest friends having recently experienced a harrowing ordeal... at the hands of Ganondorf.
No one knew who'd given Turo that ring of returning.
But Chris does love to visit Daily Kneads.
And yet, something is distinctly wrong here. Beneath the blood and bruises are scars too old and too healed to have been inflicted by Ganondorf. Dozens upon dozens of them. Some could be surgeries, others battle wounds, but most of them...
This isn't the first time they've been tortured.
Even more striking, however, are the markings. Orange, impossibly bright and intricate, a butterfly of spirals and circuitry spreading its wings across their chest and becoming lines that spread across them, entangling their limbs like vines. Not tattoos--to bright, none of the fuzziness that comes with healing--but something that looks like it's a natural part of their skin, except the bar code in the center is anything but. Marked, not like a person, but a product.
Looks like they really did have a reason for covering up after all.
They try to say something, but it's impossible to make out.
Ganondorf reaches forwards, then, forcing the figure's face to look at the camera. For all the damage inflicted, the face is unmistakable. Making it clear beyond any doubt just who this is as they try and speak again- this time, the words are, however barely, audible]
Should have betrayed you months ago.
[And then they spit right in Ganondorf's face. There's blood in their spit and blood on their lips.
There isn't even a jostle in the camera. Just the sound of a long-suffering sigh, the hand pulling back - presumably to wipe away the spit, as Ganondorf's face is out of frame - before that hand returns to cup Chris's face almost tenderly.]
The more fool you, but you will make a sufficient deterrent towards others.
[Where his hand touches skin, black starts to spread, spreading out in a pattern somewhere between veiny and weblike. As if Chris's own veins are somehow being poisoned through his magic.
And they scream like some dying animal, body writhing and thrashing as they try to pull away from Ganon's hand, gray eyes wide open but seeing nothing as their world is consumed with pain.]
Sender ID: menaceunleashed | Ganondorf
To: Public
Subject: Regarding Treachery
Warnings: CW; TORTURE, VIOLENCE
I am not one to suffer fools. When I find that not only has one of my crew taken it upon themselves to act beyond stupidly, and more so believed they could use me to their advantage...
A lesson must be taught. An example must be made. Behold, Escordvi- the price of treachery.
[The camera flickers on at this point.
A body hangs dangling, small, bloodied, and ...familiar? The skintone. The hair. That generally scrawny build. They all match a certain riftfarer who has been absent for some time now: off on a mission, then completely unresponsive to even text messages, despite one of their closest friends having recently experienced a harrowing ordeal... at the hands of Ganondorf.
No one knew who'd given Turo that ring of returning.
But Chris does love to visit Daily Kneads.
And yet, something is distinctly wrong here. Beneath the blood and bruises are scars too old and too healed to have been inflicted by Ganondorf. Dozens upon dozens of them. Some could be surgeries, others battle wounds, but most of them...
This isn't the first time they've been tortured.
Even more striking, however, are the markings. Orange, impossibly bright and intricate, a butterfly of spirals and circuitry spreading its wings across their chest and becoming lines that spread across them, entangling their limbs like vines. Not tattoos--to bright, none of the fuzziness that comes with healing--but something that looks like it's a natural part of their skin, except the bar code in the center is anything but. Marked, not like a person, but a product.
Looks like they really did have a reason for covering up after all.
They try to say something, but it's impossible to make out.
Ganondorf reaches forwards, then, forcing the figure's face to look at the camera. For all the damage inflicted, the face is unmistakable. Making it clear beyond any doubt just who this is as they try and speak again- this time, the words are, however barely, audible]
Should have betrayed you months ago.
[And then they spit right in Ganondorf's face. There's blood in their spit and blood on their lips.
There isn't even a jostle in the camera. Just the sound of a long-suffering sigh, the hand pulling back - presumably to wipe away the spit, as Ganondorf's face is out of frame - before that hand returns to cup Chris's face almost tenderly.]
The more fool you, but you will make a sufficient deterrent towards others.
[Where his hand touches skin, black starts to spread, spreading out in a pattern somewhere between veiny and weblike. As if Chris's own veins are somehow being poisoned through his magic.
And they scream like some dying animal, body writhing and thrashing as they try to pull away from Ganon's hand, gray eyes wide open but seeing nothing as their world is consumed with pain.]
no subject
For now, enjoy impatient hovering and a sense of being surrounded by small scurrying things.)
no subject
Preparation is easier that way, getting his jacket on, pulling on his headphones and strapping three swords to his body. Maybe that seems like overkill, but one is a safety, in case one of the others breaks, and he's a dual wielder. ]
I'll be ready in five minutes. [ He might feel sluggish, but he doesn't care. This has to be done. ]
no subject
[ There's other things he'd get, if they weren't in a hurry. But while he doesn't have anything nearly as flashy as three swords, he's been acquiring various small tools and weapons. Things that are easy to keep collected to a (suspiciously roomy on the inside) rucksack and pull out if he needs them.
He'll pace while he waits, trying to plan and think of what he can do that would actually come in handy. ]
no subject
Ready? Ready?
The suit perks up again, impatience turning to excitement. It doesn't literally bounce on its feet, but its definitely giving off that vibe as it waits.)
no subject
You'll be okay, Richie. I've got your back.
no subject
I know. We'll be fine. Like I say, I can hold my own.
[ There's a little pause, but then he decides he should probably elaborate at least a bit. ]
I may not be much of a... front line combatant, but I know I can handle myself if I have to. 'Specially because people love to underestimate me. And I can strategise, and I can be stealthy, and I can help if we need to break into anywhere.
[ Because you know, cards on the table it's probably good to be aware of each other's skillsets. He's just sort of hoping to avoid follow up questions. ]
Wrap?