[The night is still but for a soft breeze, audibly rustling leaves in the background of Sheik's broadcast. His voice is low, soft, and carries a rather bitter little sigh.] ...Hmph.

I suppose it doesn't matter how many times these things are sent, nor who sends them...

One can never get used to such things.

[There's a long pause, as if he's ( Read more... )

[The Sheikah looks to be sitting in the bough of a tree this time, though he isn't playing music. Instead, he's meticulously cleaning a long, slightly curved knife, the sharp edge gleaming in the light.]

The fair folk of the forest seem far more active in spring.

[His voice is a little dry. He sets to polishing the knife with a clean corner of ( Read more... )

[Around Sheik's head, there is the still-dark sky, cloudless and sharp. He seems to be sitting on a stone roof - the keen-eyed might be able to figure out that he's actually on top of the temple ( Read more... )

[There is music, as there often is from him. In World's End, he had a wider choice, a better selection - here it is his humble lyre, but he sees nothing to complain about in that. The melody itself is something pleasant, perhaps uplifting to hear, even if it is based around simple scales ( Read more... )

[He speaks, as he frequently does, over the sound of lyre strings, the melody a light one, one of quick fingers and dappled light.]

This place has not the variety of World's End, but I think I'll take a different perspective all the same.

[A faint, far off smile. The notion is nostalgic, for all it is not far off.]Would anyone like to join me for ( Read more... )

Strange stories to be told... but I suppose that's only to be expected here.

[Locked to Impa // Unhackable]

My lord, I wondered about something we proposed the first time that you came to this place.

[The Sheikah is sitting on a rock by the water, one bare foot half in. The video post comes on to see nothing but sand, sea, sky, and his unbandaged hands on the strings of his lyre. The song he is playing is soft and thoughtful, but not unhappy ( Read more... )

[Sheik is speaking over music; that of a piano. Yes, he's exploiting the empty city. Something like the latter part of this, perhaps. (About 4 minutes onward, pulled into something longer.)]

And so it all begins to return again...

[The music continues whilst he is silent. His tone becomes a little bemused.Strange menageries they keep, though ( Read more... )

[Well, Sheik's voice isn't so cold anymore. Not cold at all, in fact, an oddity for him - but then, it's not his voice at all. The speaker is definitely female, actually, clear and kind.]

Is everyone alright? It seems a great deal has been going awry recently, but I suppose that's the way of things here...

Does anyone need help?

((Comments will ( Read more... )

[What to do when you've little to say? Music, of course. It is, once more, the violin Sheik is playing. It is a strange medley, based upon the same few notes, but he has woven them into something different, something new. It speaks of light in darkness, fragile but unwavering. It ends upon a high note ( Read more... )