redsoil | IC INBOX ( KENOS ).

[On the first day of the new year by the Kenosian calendar, Hayame seeks out the god of war. She has a delivery to make for the sorceress in that home, as well, so... she brings both. There is a certain formality to her visit at first, not just the fact she has come dressed in her one formal dress (which he may recognize from a certain masquerade), the shorn short remains of her hair styled as best they could. There is ritual to the greetings she is attempting to recreate in this world- the ones she had grown up emulating and learning so that one day she might perform them. A low bow, gratitude expressed for the care in which she has been held the past year...

But eventually she softens from the rigid (though sincere) motions, in order to present what she has brought. Somewhat embarrassed, inexperienced in being in any sort of position to give actual gifts to people, she manages to explain that in her world it is customary to present new clothing on the occasion of the new year, so...

She has brought this- a sheer, red-tinged black haori that resembles the fashions she is used to from her own world. Close enough, anyway. Set had been a difficult man to procure clothing for considering he... wore so little of it, but she thinks this much might still be to his liking. It is not restrictive, and it is light and flowing. As she puts it in his hands...

She manages to say that she hopes he likes it. That it would honor her if he were to wear it. And that they will be in each other's care for the next year as well.]

[ Yuri is always a little furtive when reaching out via Communion, borne of a given caution and a need to feel his mind is his own... To whatever degree this world allows. This leads to a quiet sense of presence before greeting, like a guest hesitating before knocking on one's door.

But it is necessary, in this case, for Yuri does reach out with purpose. It's what pushes him to at last break that anticipatory silence. ]

When you've the time to spare, could I pick your brain about something? Liem said you'd be the man to ask.

[ Man. Deity. Either way. ]

[ Set's presence in Communion is sprawling, carelessly strewn about as though he hasn't anything to hide; as if everything he is is there, in the form of dry sand and suffocating power. When someone comes for him, he seems to never deliberate, throwing his doors open wide and inviting someone in —

everything he is, is a act to convince others of something. A mask to wear. Even greeting Yuri, he's still in that mask and has been since their meeting in the Church. ]

Liem would be correct.

[ A little pride slips into his tone, both to be recommended by Liem as well as to hear that someone has finally acknowledged his utility! ]

I know a great many things, you only need to ask the questions. How might I enlighten you?

[ It's a peculiar thing, to feel like some small shadow in the presence of something vast. Is it owed to what Set is, a deity of some distant world? Or perhaps it's ego. He's hardly the sort to know exactly what he ought to call it, but as he's here on business, he easily shelves the thought. ]

In particular, I'd like to know whether you've heard anything about a gang in Kowloon that's fallen on hard times. Liem called them the Jade Crows.

[ There's something akin to curiosity there, of the decidedly professional sort. Yuri knows gangs well enough, familiarity accompanies the word itself, but he says nothing of why. The attachment is effectively held back.

By now, Yuri suspects Set prefers it that way, a little puzzle to toy with at his leisure. ]

If not, perhaps you'd direct me to someone familiar with them.

[ If there is one thing Set likes, it's curiosity. If there is a second thing he likes, it's action in respect to that curiosity. ]

Aziza Leandre once lead it, but she is dead now. Nobody knows how she died, only that someone likely had her removed. As she was allied with Meridian, it must be safe to assume that her death allowed for Zenith to gain power in Kowloon. Unchecked.

[ While he wears the mask, eyes obscured as he manifests before Yuri, his posture is professional; straight-backed, fingers laced across his lap with one leg crossed over the other. His mouth severe below the dark line of his divine helm as he reports to Yuri what information he knows. Some of it obvious, some of it pointed commentary. Conclusions drawn. What he won't tell Yuri, at this time, is about his own alliances in Kowloon. ]

The Jade Crows' business was vice. Drugs, gambling dens and casinos, [ 8) ] genetic splicing. Their main rival was the Unseen — who are allied with Zenith. If you want more information, or perhaps a place to begin... I would recommend getting your hands on Gregór. Silco's retainer. Bartenders tend to know things, after all.

So they were friendly with Meridian... Good to know.

[ Where Set manifests for himself an image, Yuri is not so accustomed to projecting himself. He remains little more than a dark figure in the desert of Set's mindspace, an impossible shadow in the glare of the sun. Maybe he prefers it that way, maybe he's simply too focused on compartmentalization to spare the effort.

The results are the same either way. ]

But Silco's man, huh? That ought to go well.

[ Silco's name sparks recognition and mild distate, like spotting a roach skittering around one's home in the slums. A reality which cannot be helped, but is unpleasant nonetheless. Despite himself, he recalls the foul odor of the smoke Silco had blown in his face, momentary as it was.

Well, a lead is a lead. His practicality chases the rest away. ]

I'll see what I can do.

Edited 2024-01-15 01:25 (UTC)

[ Opposed to Yuri, Silco's existence is a thing that Set is fond of. He is a wretched man, but one that he is close to; a hard-earned bond, forged through hard work and sheer tenacity. And the fact that the two of them were very, very similar in so many ways. He doesn't want Silco targeted, really. If it happens, it happens, the same as any fate that occurs in the struggle between Meridian and Zenith — but, not because Set was made to work at any pace other than his own against him. ]

Any retainer is a prime target, to be fair. It'd be easier to get a hand on Gregór, moreso than Silco himself or — haha, Sebastian Michaelis. That is to say, it will not be easy at all. Why? What are you and Liem planning, hm? Going to finally do something about Kowloon now that it is too late?

[ If he sneers the words, it's only because he's JUDGEMENTAL towards his allies.

They're not very proactive, he's found. The only blessing is that Zenith isn't really that proactive either, not en masse, at least! ]

[ Sebastian's name goes without comment, yet Yuri can't entirely smother recognition there either. Yet it's something secondhand, owed to his association with a certain warrior. He remembers well the torture that Hayame had cautiously described, the eye she never wanted and kept concealed for fear of how it might be wielded against them.

Yuri's not so foolish as to pursue a demon alone, knowing nothing of what he may be capable of beyond charm and apparently ocular surgery. ]

It doesn't matter all that much what we plan unless it gets results, right?

[ The jeering doesn't concern him, for all that these maneuvers assuredly began well before his time. All he can do now is play the hand that he's been dealt and leverage his experience as best he can. Perhaps it will be enough. Perhaps he'll join the growing contingent of those who have died at least once. Only time will tell. ]

But I never do play if there isn't any hope of winning.

[ It's neither naivete nor bravado, but a simple assertion of personal policy. The words carry with them a certain resolve, if not a measure of dramatic flair. Yuri holds no illusions that the path head will be easy, nor that they will better their standing swiftly, but nothing will change if he doesn't act. ]

Mm, I would agree with that. Only, I feel that the "results" you seek and the "results" I would accept are entirely different. And I aim to win, always.

[ So, to Set, the planning does matter. Because it will inform him how far Yuri is willing to go to accomplish his results, and what he can expect from him. What he can respect and appreciate is the man's desire to move now, to do something and apply himself to a task. Kowloon has been on the periphery of his own attentions, and more than that, a place he's managed to keep himself a part of through his allegiances and alliances.

He laces his fingers together again, regarding the young man — pretty face, sharp mind — with newfound appreciation. Not that he ever disliked Yuri. It's just that now, he's enjoying seeing him on the prowl. And then he leans in, swift and flowing like sands on the wind. ]

Would you pass Liem along a message from me? It could be pertinent to your investigations — tell him: "You may use my private booth at your discretion". He'll know what I mean.

[ Yuri will know, too. Set keeps a Cornerstone in one of the businesses of the Last Dance, which sits on the edge of Kowloon and might be a good access point for his Meridian allies as they continue their work. ]

Oh, and the man who broke from Meridian — Yura Szczepański? Do not act too rashly regarding his role in things. He seems but a pawn, in the end. Let me know if you need anything else, too. Specific questions get specific answers, and I am pleased to offer my wisdom to my allies.

Everyone's got their priorities, so I wouldn't be surprised.

[ Yuri has to imagine a deity would have a drastically different perspective on all of this than he would, to say nothing of the reality that they all have their own agendas. That Set is willing fo provide information is something he'll not forget, knowing from experience the value and weight of good intel.

How he'll repay that favor is something he has yet to determine, but his busy mind is already working away. Then again, it always is, tirelessly moving in the steady, ordered march of clockwork. Yuri likes it that way, preferring practicality and logic whenever possible — but that isn't always so.

The shadow he casts in Set's desert shifts its weight, little more than an idle movement as he deliberates. Should he ask more, at present...? And how much should he divulge? Perhaps Liem would be better equipped to determine that. ]

I'll relay the message — and what you said of Yura. A fellow named Ryouma has something of an interest in that side of this business, and I wouldn't be surprised at all if he pays you a little visit himself.

[ His shadowed figure taps its temple. It's Yuri's way of referencing Communion. Ryouma might well try to locate Set himself for a proper sit-down, seeing as he does prefer that way of things... But that's between Ryouma and Set. ]

I think I've got enough to start on, but I do wonder what you'll be expecting in exchange for your assistance. Nothing's free, right?

And Yuri — I do not know you well, but you seem someone with a good heart. I only want to warn you about Kowloon... it is not a place where people with good hearts can find easy purchase or acceptance. If you want to stop what is happening sooner, rather than prolong it, you might wish to consider taking harsher action to expedite your results. They do not want to be saved or fixed or made into better people. Power is what they like most.

[ The war god is basically saying "you might want to attack Kowloon outright, if you don't want to drag this all out", but as always, Set's calm tone is a recommendation. Based on his wisdom, and experience, he knows that Kenos is on a time crunch — three Oracles down in a year, and three to go. There may not be enough time to reach particular results, but control could potentially be imposed once more. It'd be his method! ]

More than that, I believe there is one more piece of information you might want to invest in exploring. Delegate the task to another Meridian if need be, but since you are heading for Kowloon... during the Iconoclast Oracle's events, I and Silco and Sebastian broke into a warehouse in Springstar. The one where you see the unique smoke rising from. We found a machine that sits in that warehouse, which extends into the Below.

[ He laconically reiterates his findings to Yuri, and then chances a brief, coy smile. ]

Maybe focus on finding that, before Zenith does.

[ A funny little thing happens when Set suggests that Yuri has a good heart. It's doubt that runs through their Communion, a more assertive presence than any other emotion he's let slip between them previously. Despite Yuri's concerted efforts at control, at presenting only what he wants others to see even in this oddly intimate communication, this impression of himself runs too deep and strong to deny.

But then, Yuri hails from a deeply chivalric culture. It would be impossible for him, having done the things he has to survive, to ever live up to standards he imposes on himself alone. ]

I don't know how good I am, but I take your point. The trouble is we don't have real power here, and Silco does... But the people disadvantaged by his status might be compelled by that, along with the right incentives.

[ It would be rather like Abyss, if only in that one way. He did encourage his men to go straight when their interests and pursuits led them there. Some wanted a different life, having never had the luxury of choice, yearning for the sun. Others were content to remain below.

Yuri...is the former. He yearns to walk an upright path, even when he doubts himself deserving. But he is a patient man, if nothing else. ]

Back where I'm from, the people I lead are largely of the criminal persuasion. I'm one myself, for that matter. You do what it takes to survive when you've got nothing. If they prefer where they are, it's not my place to change that... I'll see what I can learn about their goals and needs before I try charming anyone with promises they don't care about.

[ Truthfully, Yuri had never intended to become the leader of Abyss. It was something that had happened and was supported by its people and the Church, because he had connections with both. He could work out securing resources and addressing the needs of those below by leveraging the confidence of those above. Could he do similar, with Liem's help? Perhaps. He thinks to start with what is familiar, if he can. ]

...Zenith really has been busy, haven't they? [ He sighs, the magnitude of what they must try to unravel only mounting further in his mind. Doubtless, it will continue to do just that. ] Liem's intention is to work topside and try to arrange some of those incentives I mentioned — I trust he'll know best how to handle that warehouse, seeing as he's in good with the local authority. He's got seniority, besides.

[ Yes, the man who laughed at the notion of Set being a deity actually does respect that sort of thing... At least when he likes someone. ]

[ Communing with Set is like being dropped in the middle of the Gerudo Desert on the hottest day of the year with no equipment and no supplies — and then having to argue with a cactus while a whole herd of sand seals honk and wheeze in both your ears. Thankfully, Link doesn't have to engage in any of that to pass along a special omen of bad luck prior to enjoying a date with Shez jumping off cliffs. ]

you've been spotted by the $ MONEY GOO$E $ send the $ MONEY GOO$E $ to 3 other people or you get scorched with fire (not money)

[ he's going to forward this to some folks just to uh,

not fuck around with Omens and Bad Luck

'cause shit like that is Real for egyptian gods ( yikes ) ]

[ ryouma isn't surprised to discover that Communion with set is not like he's experienced with others who are not gods. he's had contact with other vague eldritch entities in the past, so this is just par for the course. the arrival of his own presence is heralded by a gust of wind that smells of the sea, even in this arid desert.

he can't help but manifest a form in this place, standing upon the sand and feeling the heat. ryouma has a strangely draconic quality about him, but it feels hazy and out of focus; two Shards make this weird. ]

Set?

[ it feels silly to ask when you reach out to someone else's soul and seem unsure that you've got the right guy, but there is a part of ryouma that remains awkward after their previous encounter ended up filling a slot on their respective bingo cards. ]

Ah—... Yuri passed along a bit of information to me, and I intend to look into it, but he also said it had come from you so I wanted to ask you directly.

[ he likes to have an idea of what he's getting into. ]

The strange factory in Springstar? What can you tell me about it? I'm already trying to play catch-up with Zenith in Kowloon; I want to get ahead of this one while we have the chance.

[ nothing makes him happier, than in this very moment — when someone ( an ally, even ) comes to him for information. ]

Hello Ryouma, [ yeah they smooched, it's fine..............

In a flow of sand and storm, he manifests from endless desert to human-in-shape, stepping forth to greet the shipwright, the curious soul with the scent of something old and powerful within him. But, not quite him. ]

Even though it is reactionary, I am pleased to see the matter of Kowloon being given its due. The factory itself is located in Springstar. If you look to the industrial district, you will see it easily: it is the building that is taller than all the rest. During the Iconoclast Oracle, we were locked in a time where Kenos had met an end to the Blight, and the warehouse was unprotected. Myself, alongside prominent Zenites Silco and Sebastian Michaelis, investigated it.

Inside of the warehouse, there is a grand machine. Massive, Ryouma. A labyrinth of pipes and valves connect the machine to the world below — and all of them join into one enormous, massive glass tube that sinks beneath the ground. Into the Below, perhaps somewhere in Kowloon. Sebastian's nose discerned that the machine smelled of burning flesh and "something else" he could not recognize. Furthermore, within the foreman's office — documents revealed fragments of a correspondence between the Church of Helios and someone who's name could not be read, due to magical interference.

We have had that issue before, with unreadable names. The world we were in was not a true one, but one we were able to prevent from occuring by correcting the Blight. The documents did mention "recycling material", though. Whatever powers Springstar, it begins in the Below. Silco and Sebastian have, to my knowledge, not mentioned this to Zenith. But, as you now see the situation in Kowloon... you know why we need to retain control of that factory and what powers it. No matter what it is.

[ he smiles when set assumes a human shape because now he has something to smile at. ryouma can't help but have a sense of set's power and vastness in this place, but he's also a simple man and prefers a face over talking at the landscape. ]

Well, we're doing our best with what we have. We're lucky the folks in Kowloon really don't care too much about what's going on on the surface, so we'll just have to prove that we're better for business than Zenith.

[ he sounds confident even though he is under no illusion about the difficulty of the work he's taking on. he's never been deterred from doing anything just because it was hard. it also seems that ryouma is doomed to find himself in opposition to silco and sebastian no matter where he turns. he's sure that with those two gaining favour in Kowloon, it's only a matter of time before they go looking to uncover those secrets. ]

As for this factory business, it sure sounds like a challenge...

[ and once again: not a dealbreaker. ]

Still, if this thing goes down into the Below and potentially Kowloon, someone down there knows about it. I would guess they don't bother guarding it nearly as well down there because the location serves as its own protection.

Maybe we can find a way in that way? Or, a way to discover what it's all for, in any case. If you have any connections that might know somebody like that, send them my way. Otherwise, that information will probably cost us, but it's a worthy investment.

[ he knows money isn't the only currency that works in the Below, so he's hoping the price won't be too steep if he has to go that route. ]

A hard task, at this point.

[ Proving they're better, he means. ]

They are not sold on the fact that it is Zenith offering them anything. They simply want independence and validation as an entity, and Springstar long has failed to truly deliver them that. Now that they have it, we cannot offer them it. And it so happens that what they wanted came from Zenith hands — it does not mean they like Zenith any more, it was likely coincidence.

[ He speaks like he has some inside information about the whole thing ( he does ), but really, he's not willing to divulge the fact that he and Silco had a continued deal in place following their very Public One during the Iconoclast. That he's supported the war efforts, and might just continue to do so. ]

The missive was between the Church and the individual who's name could not be read. I would not go so far as to think that it is a matter to explore in Kowloon, so much as a Springstar one. It is in Springstar's warehouse, not a Kowloonian one... which is why I hesitate to agree with you.

[ Something suddenly presses against your mind. It is not someone reaching out to you with Communion, but not entirely unlike it either — perhaps more akin to the wake of a large ship tossing smaller boats around as it turns into larger and larger waves. After a few seconds, it starts to sting and burn, unpleasant but possibly familiar. Have you died before, whether at home or as a Shard-Bearer? Then you might recognize this feeling: the panicked terror of being cornered, of looking certain death in the eyes and knowing you have nowhere left to run. A horrible, piercing pain, like being stabbed, and the realization of failure.

And something more than that, too. A hand that is not yours touches the side of your chest to clutch at a small pouch that isn't there, with determined desperation and a deep sadness. The image of a young woman flashes through your mind, but this is not an imprint of whatever this unlucky person is facing down in this moment — this is who he's thinking of, who he's clutching at, as he dies. Big green eyes, hair the color of dandelions, and a warm trusting smile.

...and then, it's gone. The echo fades almost as quickly as it reached you, and your mind is still again, back to whatever baseline it was at before this imprint pressed in. ]

[ She’d had a thought. So, before it’s too late and she truly can’t—

Set’s brash villainy is interrupted by the familiar connection of the other god, but there’s a sharp urgency to how she reaches out to him. There’s a sense that she would have absolutely bowled through any attempt to block her out, though she doesn’t imagine that he’d do so. It’s just important that this message gets through, brief as it may be.

She may have been weakened by her Noble Phantasm when they parted ways, but her strength in Communion is no less radiant. She pushes every piece of it towards Set. He is enveloped by the light, embraced by the sun but spared its burns, and strong arms hold him tight in a protective, loving embrace. It’s a push of things all at once that would dizzy a human brain for the strength of divinity behind it, but she just wants Set to know her sincerity with the certainty that comes from something akin to a divine proclamation. ]

Don’t hate mortals because they’re short-sighted. Guide them and love them. Forgive them.

You never deserved your destiny. Don’t kill the kind parts of you to fit into it.

You're my dear brother. I love you, Set.

[ But after that, the Communion cuts abruptly, leaving only the lingering, fading feeling of her warmth. ]

[ — in the dying embers of her existence, Set reaches for her warmth. In his mind, he thinks: please, let me hold onto some part of her, as grief and horror begin to rise within him. She'll be gone. She'll be forgotten. She'll never exist again, now. One of his worst nightmares has come to pass, it is real and possible. Death of the deathless, an end to the eternal. He'd hoped ( asked, in his own way ) for Silco to think otherwise, to escape the fate he was so determined to shoulder with no thought for an alternative.

She's fading so fast, there's no hope for her to hear him. There's nothing but the cooling memory of her, and he tries so hard to snag her light and shove it into his mouth, to hold it against his Shard as if somehow, some way, he can capture part of her and save her. ( She won't return to the cosmic sea, he feels. This is a complete termination, an erasure of a cycle, and it is unforgivable. Bitterness and rage spark within him, as he scoops up the fragile Shard he'd taken moments ago from Silco's rooms.

He thinks, for a moment, to renege on his promise to someone who understood him, and still chose this. It would be his just desserts, to announce that he would mourn Silco, and let the last thing he see be the crux of Zenith's promise: absolute destruction of hope. He ought to do it, ought to smash Jinx in front of his eyes and let that carry him, too, into his end. )

Queztalcoatl's soft warmth is gone, and all she is will be a memory that he carries. Beyond life, beyond death, beyond anyone else in Kenos who knew her, back to a world that will never have her again. An empty space, where once she shone. ]

Wenen pet wenen.etj kher.

[ A god of the earth and sky, he is. The embodiment of discord and chaos, warring externally and internally — never allowed to get what he wants, as his beloved sister's last motes of light trickle away between his fingers.

And he decides, he is owed for this. The pain of the divine is greater than any mortal's in their minds, and they hold vengeance and remuneration for theft in the highest of regards. ( He will chase the sun higher, throw himself into it soon enough, and rise among Meridian in Quetzalcoatl's image and memory. ) ]

Yo, cuz.

[ There's absolutely no preamble to the other god reaching out, just the usual impression of dark smoke, but today, there's also excitement in it. It's a toothy grin just from feeling alone, and it's the sort where Set might be able to guess what this is about just from the kind of familiarity that comes with it. It's a bloodthirsty sort. ]

Felt like fair's fair, so wanted to let you know in case you didn't. Can practically smell it in the air, by which I mean try as it might, this World can't totally cut me off from my omniscience. If it's not one of those Oracles comin' up soon, then something real hot's about to kick off. But, considering the timing, figured the former more than the latter, but either is great, yeah? I'm thinkin' the next week. Maybe two.

[ But of course he's not warning him out of the goodness of his heart! No! He's here to do a little pre-gossip post gossip! ]

So! Got a question for ya! This is the first time I'm gonna be pittin' myself against your people... So, who's needin' a good wake-up call the most?

[ Dark smoke ( tendrils of shadow ) happens to be something that Set responds to quite well; a god of evil things, however young and unwilling he'd been to take on that mantle, he's embraced the freedom in being a lot less moral than the rest of his family. Operating on a different wavelength, calling into the depths of darkness and chaos for companionship — though he stands in Meridian's light, it is only so that he casts a greater shadow upon the world. As Tezcatlipoca's smoke invades his mindscape, he slips his hands through the scent of it and gives it a little cupping-waft toward his nose.

The other god is familiar to him, but also very different. Quetzalcoatl and he are of the same root, but their godhood was at odds; still, Set feels an immediately kinship toward the deities of the Azteca, for he was invited into their by their slain hero-god as "family". Which means he dives right into that smoke to try and grapple Tezca's core in a delighted embrace. To rub his cheek along it like a cat scenting at a favored herb. ]

Mm, that would put it right on schedule! They tend to wake up after we're all relaxed and ready, but this time? It's great to hear that an Oracle might be rousing based on how much we've shaken the world!

[ Actually, he hates Oracles. They tended to stray towards contests of will, and Set was a creature who's willpower had been crushed into dust long, long ago; his mind is sharp, his ability to stand against erosion? Nonexistent. ]

I keep track mostly of the Zenites I wish to see targeted, to inspire them to do more than just concede their rights to their leader, but. Among my chosen side, I would say there are a number of unblooded [ the new hires among Meridian ] who would benefit from a good challenge. Some others still cultivate a mentality that "innocents are innocents" in this world, as well. I suppose then, you must tell me what kind of people you give this wake-up call to!

[ He’ll find the smoke does have a distinct smell of copal. It’s the cousin of frankincense across the sea, but rather than the rich, earthy tones, it’s lighter and more like pine and citrus. However, much more importantly for Set’s catlike affection, diving into that smoke does encourage the core to appear without complaint.

…Well, much complaint. Since it’s very much just a case of wrapping his arms around the (smaller!) god, though he’s at least forgoing the sunglasses here. Since he tends to wear those to obscure his unnatural eyes from mortals, there’s no need to do so from Set. But cool-tempered god he is, he’s immediately thrown off by Set’s warm, sudden affection (?).

He can see why Quetzalcoatl had latched onto this god for sure. ]

[ But he doesn’t attempt to pull away from the embrace, even so. He just kind of accepts it… Truly he is just another flavor of cat. ]

Oh, I’ll be doin’ my best to put Zenites through their paces too, don’t worry. But them I’ve got time for every day, which isn’t the case for Meri, ‘specially with how things are kickin’ off.

[ Sure, he could go over to Springstar just to bully some Meri, but! Now it’s a whole Thing! ]

Anyways. Those with that mindset are a good start. Innocents are gonna have to start dyin’ if we wanna do this right. [ There’s a twinge of bloodthirst again, but it’s brief. ] But most importantly, those that need to change, to put it broadly. The kinda people that are going to break before they bend. They’re the ones that need to get put through their paces. Change or die, yeah?

[ good because set is going to continue to smear himself all over tezca, all arms and cheek and content animal noises; this god is an environment unto himself, and set finds that even though he is the arid expanse of the desert, there is something enticing about the humid jungle to him ( a god who loves foreign lands, who embraces them ) ]

You're the best!

[ he truly means it wow ]

They don't even have to change that much — they just have to learn to be more... flexible. The cost is too high to focus on everything and everyone all at once. I'd say all the newbies then — and there's a group from similar worlds: Claude, Dimitri, Yuri. They're all leaders there. Byleth is okay, he knows what it takes. Ooh, and as an aside!

[ He bites Tezca's cheek a little. ]

Rudbeckia. She serves the seat of war — that'd be me — directly. You'll probably find her very distasteful, considering what you oversee, because she will never respond to conflict or challenges. However, if you do want to target her, you can have me in her place and I will take it as your decision to engage me fully!

[ Even if his response is more stoic, he does return it somewhat once Set starts to give him something more concrete. Set’s excitement does feel particularly feline to him (or maybe that’s just his particular bias), so it’s met with gentle hands. It’s fingers through his hair or a touch on the shoulder, but it’s with the sort of delicacy one gives to a cat they know might bite rather than kind of soft affection that would be given to a person.

It's a correct assessment, considering the bite. That gets him to scoff, and he bites back at whatever’s within reach—his neck, a hand, whatever. They truly are just two cats… ]

Then sounds like I got my work cut out for me. The new folks, yeah, they gotta learn real fast, but these leaders? If you’re mentionin’ them, then sounds like they got a lot to learn from my tutelage. I’m harshest to leaders because they’re the ones that shoulder the future of their people. If they falter in their duties, then they should just die and make way for the next person.

[ It’s very harsh, but that’s the sort of discipline that Tezcatlipoca had always demanded from the rulers of the Aztecs. Their culture was one that seemed especially harsh to outsiders as a result, but it was something that was necessary to ensure their survival, in his opinion. After all, it’s the lesson he’d wanted Izcalli to learn with his second chance.

He’d elaborate on that a bit more, but the aside is actually more interesting. A harsh attitude towards leaders was what it was, but someone spineless serving Set? ]

C’mon, you know it doesn’t work like that. You can’t bear a Trial on another’s behalf. It’s their lesson to learn. [ a shrug ] But you got me curious. War is anything but passive. What’s stirring war in her heart enough to serve it?

[ The soft affection ( not quite meant for a human ) is immediately met with the parting of Set's mind, the ambient atmosphere of his mental space coiling around and around and around Tezcatlipoca's own. Perhaps he is predisposed to be affectionate because this god is like him, perhaps because some part of him — sorry Tezca — is still Quetzalcoatl. Enough of the root of her, that he finds it easy to fall into the other's space and bask in it. To want to connect with him, but for who he is rather than who Set is deeply, infinitely missing. ]

Egypt of my time has no human leaders. Gods rule — my sister is currently God Supreme, who sits the throne of the heavens and of men. I do not see humans as having the capacity to rule themselves, though history I have yet to live indicates they do just that.

[ Ew. He scoffs a little, resolute in his dismissal of mortal ability in the way that only a god like him could be. ]

Her will to survive any outcome of this war, actually. Rudbeckia is anything but passive in that desire, using everything at her disposal to ensure she does. Including me, in my full capacity as a god.

[ That gives him a good indication of when Set is from, at least generally speaking. He might not be the same Set that would have existed in his world, but he assumes it for the sake of simplicity. That would firmly put him in the Age of Gods, and long, long ago for gods to still meddle with humanity that much. Hell, he wonders if that would have still been the Fourth Sun of the Aztecs…?

But the rude dismissal gets him to respond by reaching out to ruffle Set’s hair annoyingly. This is the true older brother move. ]

Yeah, that won’t last forever. And when humans do come to rule, they’ll fuck it all up, eventually. That’s why I try and make ‘em strong. It takes a strong will rule, but it takes a stronger one for ‘em to be harsh and even cruel when it’s necessary. If they can’t, well…

[ He withdraws his hand, and there’s a twinge of sadness that Set likely will find familiar. Quetzalcoatl felt a deep, yearning kind of sadness when she talked about the fate of her dearly beloved Azteca, and there’s a kernel of it in Tezcatlipoca’s feelings too. It’s much more muted, however. After all— ]

That’s the “eventually” part of it. Mortal rulers means mortal civilizations.

[ He’s a nihilist compared to Quetzalcoatl’s bright optimism, ultimately. It might have been a lamentable fate, but it was fate nonetheless. All things are destined to die, even things that are more vague like a civilization.

But it’s not something he dwells on at all. It’s already long dead, so whatever mourning he’d do is long past too. ]

As for Rudbeckia, I get it. I got a fondness for people that strive to survive above all else. [ He nods in understanding, and there’s indeed a warmth that implies it without words being needed. These are souls under Tezcatlipoca’s domain. However. ] You can’t spoil her, though. Usin’ you is practically cheating.

[ Some part of him feels a little vindicated, to hear that the humans will fuck it up. That mortal rulers means mortal civilizations; it's why he cannot trust in whatever Zenith wants to build. Doubly-so, because Yima will have a hand in it. Part of him is a little more contented that Tezcatlipoca and he had worked out their deal, though. Seeing the nihilist on the opposing side was not only reassuring, it was encouraging — all he wanted, despite the way he went about it, was for everyone to give it their all. He wanted them to prove they meant to fight tooth-and-nail for what they wanted, putting in the time and labor to make it real.

Still, the pain that the other god feels... Set wonders if one day he will feel it. He dreads that sort of feeling, the same mourning that he'd felt in Quetzalcoatl's soul. ]

She serves me, in return. [ This is an important thing, for him. Acknowledgement. ] As a priestess, she represents my divinity among the common people.

[ He’s happy to let the topic go, since it’s a gloomy one. Even a fatalist like him doesn’t really love thinking about the ends of things. It’s much more interesting (and fun) to give Set a bit of a hard time about the strange match he sees here. ]

I mean, it’s not like I don’t get it. Having priests and priestesses, hell yeah, but someone that doesn’t want to participate in a war? I dunno…

[ He clicks his tongue a little as if he’s offering a criticism, but it’s toothless at its heart. Set can do what he wants and it doesn’t mean anything to Tezcatlipoca, practically speaking. ]

C’mon, let me at least offer her a Trial or somethin’. I won’t kill her, promise.

She isn't a warrior, Tezcatlipoca. Not one inch of her soul would ever belong to you.

[ Set was a guardian deity once, though. It's in that capacity that he shelters Ruby. ]

I suppose you can, although you will incur my direct involvement no matter what. We have a deal, she and I. And I will be cross with you, if you mess with her. And that includes name dropping her to your team!

…Warriors souls don’t, technically. I just favor ‘em. But they’re not destined for my afterlife.

[ There’s a feeling of… something at that, but it’s hard to place, even for Set. It’s a faint melancholy, but there’s something more to it, however brief it might be before he moves on. ]

My souls are those who struggle to survive, those who faced trials in life. Doesn’t matter whether they overcame ‘em or not. It’s just the fact they had to, and it’s why I grant them my paradise.

[ It’s a simple explanation, but there’s a lot in there. Just like how there’s a nuance in the main domains that each of them represents, there’s nuance in how they express their protection too. But. Since Tezcatlipoca is pretty sure his afterlife duties are on hold at the moment, he doesn’t linger on the topic. ]

Consider the warning heard. [ He will be ignoring it. ♥ ] …And you didn’t ask for my opinion, but I’m giving it anyways. You can’t protect her forever. You’d best make some peace with that sooner rather than later.

[ It could sound like a threat, but that’s not the tone or feeling with it. This is advice offered gently, at least for Tezcatlipoca. Favoring a mortal that much will always be a double-edged sword. ]

[ the communion comes to set the way it did before. the dark, lonely, and ever expanding void. there is no life. there are no planets. there are no stars in the sky.

well, there is just one. bright, blonde and bushy-tailed flat, as effective as any curse or blessing. ]

Hellooooo, you've reached Flat Escardos. Please leave your message after the beep. Beep.

[ yes, he is trying to imitate a voicemail. ]

Edited 2024-03-08 01:53 (UTC)

[ flat, set is ancient egyptian and also believes in cursed chain "emails" what the fuck is this

He immediately whacks Flat upside the head in retaliation. THOUGHT HE HEARD YOU TALKING SHIT ABOUT WAR, YOU WEIRDO ]

Flat, we are ASPECTED TOGETHER. There is no such thing as leaving a message! You will explain why I felt the idea of you being dismissive of
me!

.......

[ give him a moment.

actually give him two moments.

no, no, three moments is what he needs.

actually, no. system error. ]

What.

Do you,

even know what an Aspect is.

[ ironically set loves being asked questions and answers them quite devotedly ]

I know that, I just don't know what I said that you felt was dismissive!

[ LISTEN SET HE'S AN IDIOT BUT NOT THAT MUCH ]

I'm dismissive of a lot of things in life, you need to be more specific!

Edited 2024-03-08 03:00 (UTC)

ME! I felt you [ "shit-talking" ] being dismissive of ME!

That makes no sense! Why would I even think about you!? Are you like an obsessive ex-boyfriend?

[ THEY'RE NOT EVEN DATING? ]

[ please imagine set rattling flat around like a muppet who's just been yanked off their puppeteer's hand ]

I am not the one who is swanning around with thoughts of me in their mind! What conversation were you just having?!

I have no idea what you're talking about?! Why would I be talking to Mister Ryouma about you?! If I wanted to talk about you, I'd say it to your face????

[ he is so confused, he is being mentally shaken and he is so confused. ]

For example, I think you're getting mad over nothing! Have you tried yoga?

Well, what were you saying to him!? If not my name, what topic were you invoking?

[ hey um

excuse you ]

— and I am not MAD!

You're so mad.

[ but okay. okay! what was he talking to mister ryouma about... ]

Let's see, I asked him if he was doing okay. He said that he was! And then he asked me how I was and I told him that I was also fine! And then we talked about what he was doing after the whole disaster, and then I told him about those two that are really into fighting and how I don't really want war...

[ wait...

wait a second...

he's buffering... ]

Edited 2024-03-10 03:37 (UTC)

[ ping! ]

Oh, that's right! You're a war god, aren't you!?

That is the sentiment — [ YOU WERE TALKING SHIT FLAT ]

I am THE war god! The! As Tezcatlipoca came second and is also a god of conflict, not war.

Why would you not want war?!

There's other war gods out there. Have you heard of Ishtar?

[ as far as he knows, mesopotamian civilization came first. you're not that special.

and why would a kid born in the late 80s want war. ]

I mean, military inventions are cool. Guns and tanks are pretty neat, especially everything I learned from my friend who's a total military nerd. Heck, even strategy games like Civilization, Age of Empires, or Rise of Nations are pretty cool. But actually doing war? Not into it. But you won't understand, because you're a war god.

Ishtar? You mean that man-hungry bimbo who thinks "inciting a war" means flashing her tits while screaming: WINNER GETS DIBS? For the ninth time in a single generation of humans?

[ Actually, Set has spent a lot of time fraternizing with the gods of foreign lands and boy! He sure has opinions of Ishtar! ]

Yeah, I know them. Are they here? No. I am.

[ They don't matter, Flat!!

Use that lack of object permanence. ]

You also make a grand assumption of me: that I would not understand why you are not into war. I am war and shine best when it is an era of combat and conflict, but even I enjoy the downtime that comes during times of peace and bounty. It is what gives war meaning, and what many fight for.

Oh, is there family drama? Sorry about that! How about Ares?

[ he's ✨beaming✨ ]

Do you have hobbies? I know that this place doesn't have movie theaters, but I was wondering if I could use my communion like a projection screen. There's definitely at least a couple movies that I have completely memorized from beginning to end.

I have something of a curious question.

[ and because this is really going to come out of left field...]

Our Zenites are speaking about you, by the way. I am sure it is with less vitriol than the way your companions speak about me, when they do. They did, however, come up with a ludicrous weakness.

If they were not speaking of me, I would point out how worthless your choice in Zenith really was — with allies like that.

[ it sounds nasty but really this is how they've always been <3 ]

What are they saying of "weakness", hm?

[ A derisive scoff. ] Believe me, they are little better than that.

Then again, I am used to fighting on my own without "allies".

[ A beat, and then: ]

They decided to gossip, of all things, about an allergy, and considering adding it to their swords or other such weapons.

[ He says it with a tone of. Befuddlement? Something Else? ]

Semen.

Edited (the strikeout text is just for u) 2024-03-09 04:13 (UTC)

[ this is hilarious to pax

to set, he feels both UTTERLY ANNOYED AT SEBASTIAN and simultaneously —

well, silco might not? know the sense of sick terror that fills him. not because of a known "weakness", but because of what it is. what it means people are doing, thinking of. it is the nausea of dread. ]

Ah. I see. It — well, it is a potent source of power and of toxin among my kin.

[ sorry silco ]

[ no regrets ]

[ throttles sebastian ]

[ Silco doesn't understand it, but he certainly can feel it. The way Set's revulsion roils and rages.

Silco does not offer sympathy — like Set, he is devoid of such things — but there is a sense of matching disgust. Not because they are using a weakness accurately, but because it's Set. After all, Set will be his to fight in the end. He knows it. If he cannot drag Set away from Meri, something that feels a distant, nearly extinct possibility now, then it will have to.

He would not allow any of them to, if they tried. ]

For all like you?

[ He asks, idly. Curiously. ]

[ for all like him? ]

Yes. But, worse for me. Because —

[ Hands and mouths. Men hungry to make him weak, because he was beautiful and unattainable. A distant ember they thought to devour to warm themselves, a being of repressed passions they lusted for. ]

It only happens because they want to enjoy seeing me weak. The unconquered god, conquered. I drive men to perverse madness, I fear.

Edited 2024-03-09 13:29 (UTC)

[ In communion, Silco understands this impression. In Communion, Set can feel that broken mirror of reflection. Not of being beautiful, or inspiring of passion, but of people wanting to see him weak, and drug through the muck and sump. He understands, but then again. How could he not? ]

They fear you, and they want to be you. They see you as the unattainable and they are jealous for this. They hate that you do more than them, that you are capable of so much more.

[ Projection much? ]

They are so weak, and so jealous, that they cannot parlay with you on appropriate terms, hm? Shall I misdirect them, then? Or leave them to pathetically... [ I can't believe I'm writing this ] Spill themselves over and over in an effort to defeat you, only to find that you are aware, and prepared?

I could not begin to understand what others feel or fail to feel [ like AWE AND TERROR??? ] towards me. I only know some — seek sexual dominance, and I was made vulnerable to men by machinations... by betrayal.

[ It feels strange, voicing such a vulnerability and a vulnerable sentiment to anyone. Doubly so, because it is Silco — who has need of that info, and may come to use it against him. But.

In a strange way, he appreciates Silco's belief in him, too. That he is recognized as powerful, versatile by this man. He's not openly affectionate about it, but within their minds, there is the impression that he's bent down to rest his forehead against Silco's own. That he feels a complex sort of trust towards this man. ]

Whatever you can rationalize as worth doing, you can do it. I know Zenith comes before all else — but, I am always glad to know you are looking out for my personal longevity. That matters to me more than our Factions.

[ Set has a unique place that Silco cannot describe, the words are not there, because they are merely two fractured mirrors, reflecting trauma and pain and devotion to one thing and one thing only back and forth between them. He accepts Set because they are the same, because he understands there may be a world where their souls would unite, or perhaps a realm where they are allies on a battlefield — and the punishment of their enemies would be swift and deadly.

Instead, here, they are foes. They both know this. There is an honesty in being on opposing sides of a war, even moreso when there is something they fight for. They have both promised that to one another. He could never consider Meridian, no, because Jinx has no living body — he does not know what would happen were they to return to worlds — but Set promises revival, and that it could happen.

A contingency.

Just like he would take Anubis if they won and —

And —

The impression in Communion is of their foreheads pressed together, one hateful pit of an eye that never closes still open, and staring at him. Always there, even in communion. ]

We are different than they are. There is a respect that can only come from being such honest foes. [ More than that, maybe, but it is difficult to put into words. ] I do not want them to use such a weak advantage. If they cannot fight you as a respected enemy, then they do not deserve to engage you in battle. You are better than they are. Stronger. A force of nature that they cannot overwhelm or take in, so they look to deride you in the only way they can.

I will not sell to them our connection [ He says, for it is not something that anyone should be privy to. ] However, should they try to use this, I will ensure it does not strike.

[ How? Well, dw about it. Think of this as a personal project. ]

[ Rudbeckia wakes in a bed of feathers and fur, but her first thought is: Ah, I don't want to do this again. she doesn't want to go about living for another pointless day. how can she go out there and sit beside Cesare, as though he didn't just take everything good she had managed to hold in her hands and turn it to poison all at once? how can Iske possibly look at her without drawing his sword to kill her? he's going to kill her. he should kill her. she should never have—

there's no feeling of relief once the realisation trickles in that this is Kenos, not Arundel. it doesn't matter. those things that she once thought she could leave behind her have now rotted her from the inside out, and no amount of distance can change that. no, worse than that – this is a curse that follows her. it must be. something about her is so fundamentally awful and wrong that it corrupts all she comes in contact with. she was a fool all along to have even tried.

and because she is a wretched, selfish, cruel thing, her mind reaches out. ]

Set?

[ even at the first brush of her mind against his, Rudbeckia hardly resembles her old self. she is more lost ghost than girl. so many vital pieces of her are missing: her fear, her warmth, her burning desire to survive, even the deep lake of her sorrows. everything has been scraped out of her, leaving behind something hollow and cavernous, pitted and ugly. nothing can take root in the barrenness of her heart. every emotion passes through her without leaving a mark at all.

her love for him remains. the red desert sands still cover her bare feet. but the sands are cold, now, and she cannot bring herself to touch them. ]

I'm here. I'm sorry I went away.

[ Her waking mind, haze from the passage of time and the amassing of experiences, seeks his — and of course, of course he chooses to embrace it. To gather her too-small form into his arms and tug her off her feet, wrapping her spine and the back of her blonde head in his hands to cradle her close. What has happened to her? How is it that she is so emptied out and hollow, now? ]

You came back, is what matters.

[ To him, of course. To this place, which is still a hellscape, but at least they are together in it — able to rely on one another for validation and meaning, comfort. He'd gone away once, too. Soon after firing the weapon upon Highstorm, soon after dying to Amos's hands, he'd found himself far away in Egypt again, living out memories he had yet to experience as if he were there. And he had been there. Time was a strange ocean, for a god, after all. ]

What happened, Ruby? You have lost so much of yourself. Who, or what, took it away?

[ he asks such a simple question, and she cannot answer it. what happened? how long has her life been this twisted without her knowing? what happened is this: Iske loves her. what happened is that he chose her, accepted her, protected her in ways she never thought anyone would do in a world where Set wasn't there. what happened is Rudbeckia tricked Iske. she fooled a good, noble man into giving her something precious that she didn't deserve, just for the sake of her own survival. what happened is nothing more than the plot of the damn novel catching up to her at last. what happened is this: Cesare—

It'll always be you and me.

ah.

Ruby's mind fractures. it spirals into senseless hysteria, and she claws desperately away from her own memories, nausea rising in her. she's pathetic. she feels like a child, refusing to look because she doesn't want to accept that something is real. why did he do that? why did he have to ruin everything? a worse, and far more frightening thought – can she really pretend that was his intention in the first place? she saw the look in his eyes. it wasn't malicious, it wasn't a scheme to punish her. in that moment, Cesare de Borgia was just an ordinary man who— ]

Can I come see you?

[ a small, weak voice. ]

[ The touch of Tezcatlipoca’s mind is probably familiar by now. It’s a smoke of campfire and copal, the humidity of the deep jungle, but as cool as the night. It’s also like a smack on the shoulder that an older brother would give the little brother… ]

Yo, cuz.

[ cuz is just a better nickname than “bro” for their relationship though ]

Got two things for ya. One’s a delayed answer, other’s a request. But both are god-to-god kinda things.

[ Set relishes in the scent of deep jungle and shadow, the way he had once rolled and entwined his mind with the warmth of Quetzalcoatl's vibrant attentions. Tezcatlipoca is much more like him: a wild thing made of heady scents, a force of nature that doesn't wear a mantle of heroism. Even still, Tezca isn't an evil god — he can feel that much from him.

Part of him, poisoned in Meridian, thinks to decline — "god-to-god" means little, it whispers, when one god has sided with the enemy. He strangles it to the best of his ability, cultivates it with rationale that dictates maintaining relations with that "enemy" is for the best. After all — look at how it paid off with one of Zenith's own. They're hard to convince to Meridian's side, in the way that Meridian's were not hard to sway from their position.

So, he flicks arid sands across the wet jungles and drapes himself in patches and layers along Tezcatlipoca's own mind. Cozies right on up with a warm little sigh and a bright hunger for the answer more than the request: ] Oh? For free?

[ He teases a little. With some, he might ask for a face to face meeting, but minds are as real as bodies to gods. ]

[ At the very least, the sand is welcomed too. The desert is just as much a part of the lands Tezcatlipoca had once presided over, but the jungles were more of a personal preference. After all, his nagual, the jaguar, wasn’t exactly a creature of that climate. He dips his hand against the sand in the same way that he’s Set drinks up his smoke. ]

Well, free because it’s a half-answer. Better?

[ He’s not surprised that the knowledge is what Set latches onto, but he does wonder if it’ll be all that satisfying. Still, he doesn’t convey concern about that through the teasing lilt of sarcasm. ]

Told you I’d get back to you about my desires, right? Took a while to think it over, had to get a sense of where I was placin’ my bets, all that kinda shit. Plus, I mean, you know as well as I do, ain’t like bein’ a god here is normal. It’s all outta whack!

[ There’s a feeling of the indifference of a shrug, as lazy and casual as Tezcatlipoca at least postured himself to be. ]

But, hey. Got an idea of why this world was so desperate to have me. So, since you asked, I owed ya that answer.

[ …Though, subtly, that’s not quite what Set had asked, either. Though it’s not something that Tezcatlipoca is saying out of omission or attempting to mislead Set so much as it was perspective. When it came to personal desires, he had none. Or rather, he was supposed to have none. That’s where it’s the half-answer. ]

It really is bizarre. The cycle of life and death has been obliterated, gods have no more power than the mortals we have to work with — a war on this scale should not be touched by their hands, either! They have no ability to accomplish either goal, once the actual fighting is gone.

[ Set waves his hand lazily, complaining to another god in the only way he knows how. It's been a long time since he'd first arrived in Kenos, and the complaints he had were never going to change — they were fundamentally wrong with the world, and no degree of Rosie-the-Rivetering positivity from the mortals was going to change the core fact of the war: that they shouldn't be able to make or remake worlds, even with power to boost them. ]

You cannot give me a half-answer and not expect me to come to tear the other half out of you eventually, but okay! Let's start with something: why was the world so desperate to have you? I know why it wants me, and I have some ideas of why it might want you, and only after Quetzalcoatl's death.

[ He could complain with Set about the first part there for a long, long time, and honestly, it’s tempting to do so. It would delay getting to one of his points he wants to bring up. Even though he’s the one to mention it, it doesn’t change the trepidation he feels, after all.

But, as satisfying as that might be, Tezcatlipoca isn’t actually an idle god. He’s casual and seems laid back, but he’s a hard worker and a perfectionist. So, he gets to the point. ]

Because I’m the one stop shop, so far as gods go, duh. More bang for your buck to pick the Tezcatlipoca from which all others were created.

[ He’s mostly joking there by referring to his mythology, but partially not. It’s possible, but that’s not something he has special insight into. ]

Nah, maybe, but what’s more important… [ He laughs, but the feeling with it is more gloomy. ] There’s a chance that none of this shit works out. Went fishing with Matt, wrestled back my omniscience for a few seconds, and the part I didn’t tell him is that includes my ability to see the future. I can’t ever tell ya how likely one future is over another, but there’s definitely one that’s a dead end.

[ He doesn’t feel the need to describe it in more detail, because it’s what Set imagines. Oblivion is the victor, the end. ]

Quetzalcoatl’s had firepower, sure. She could kill most gods from our world, yourself included, because technically speaking, we predate all of you. [ don’t worry about that one set, ] But don’t need firepower when you’re up against somethin’ like Oblivion. You need the finger on the scales of balance. Gotta make every soul here fight so hard they’ll regret bein’ born. They gotta prove that they have lives worth livin’.

[ Tezcatlipoca’s tone and speech changes for the last portion, and Set is one of the few that will recognize it for what it is. They’re words with divine weight rather than him speaking like a human. ]

I appear to mortals only for fights of survival, and the people here face extinction. So, they will endure and overcome, or they will be obliterated. I’m here to be sure that whatever the outcome, it was the one that was deserved.

[ From which all others were created.

Well, duh.

Set can smell it in his divinity: the traces of another god who no longer exists, destroyed so utterly that even reviving a world will not restore her. The words spur Set to lean closer, attentive to Tezcatlipoca's tone and what he is saying ( or not saying, or saying in a particular way ). To reach out with his bare hands and press them each to a point on the other god's form; one to his knee, the other to his hand. It's a fondness hard-earned by others, given to a dangerous rival solely because in the end, Quetzalcoatl had been someone he loved — and the root of her was here, before him.

That love, naturally, needs somewhere to go. It is hesitant and injured, but it still settles into the flat of Tezcatlipoca's palm. Simple and steady. ]

Do you want Oblivion to win?

[ It is the greatest threat, as well as the reason for the strife and war they are now part of — and Set knows that he is young, estranged from the whole of his divinity long before he even arrived in Kenos if the texts he's read are true. God of war, storms, chaos, trickster, hero, demon. He wears a thousand faces, and none know him for the truth. A solitary, integral god, much like Tezcatlipoca. ]

Is that an outcome you, as you are, can accept? True extinction. Where not even the cosmic sea from which we all hail remains. Because I will never accept that.

[ It's there, that Set's eyes shine; pupils dark and narrow, burning hot with the echo of Ra's fire and the sun's cruel rays of conquest, of punishment. He leans further towards Tezca, wrapping his hands around his face; fond, but searching for his convictions in the midst of his divine duties. ]

I don't exist to keep balance, you know. You might be the god with the "most bang for your buck", but I must be here... for more than just someone's sentimentality or random selection. I was meant to give meaning to ma'at, to be the adversary. Even if they deserve Oblivion, I intend to survive their lacking.

I'd like it if you survived too, Icnoacatzintli. I wouldn't mourn the mortals.

Edited 2024-05-20 15:29 (UTC)

[ Tezcatlipoca accepts the fond touch, and though the feeling isn’t returned with the true, sunny warmth that Set misses so dearly from his radiant brother, it’s returned. Tezcatlipoca places his other hand over Set’s in his palm, and it’s a firm touch. An anchor, maybe. But he laughs, short and a bit gloomy, because it’s a difficult question.

For a mortal, he’d dance around the answer, because they’re not meant to get straightforward answers from him. Straightforward answers from the divine are just bad for mankind. They need to think and carve their own path. For a fellow god, however— ]

No. Of course I don’t want it.

[ Even saying it comes with a heavy feeling. A mortal would probably call it guilt, but it’s something vaster between them. It’s duty and all its oppressive weight. It may come in shades amongst deities, but it denied them choices all the same. They had roles to play, things that must be, and in Tezcatlipoca’s case, simply wanting was something complicated.

…After all, he’d been supporting the pursuit of the kind of extinction that Set talks about. It’s not Oblivion, since Oblivion was bigger than what even ORT could do, but for the pantheons of Earth…? It would have been the same result. Without a planet, every spirit with a connection to the World would be snuffed out, just like that. It’s what Daybit wanted to do. Tezcatlipoca didn’t think he was wrong for it, either, considering.

Still, though. These aren’t uncertainties so much as difficulties. Set removes his hand to hold his face, and Tezcatlipoca can see the fiery, dedicated passion easily. His convictions run cooler than that, and it was shown even by that touch on Set’s hand. He’s the god that’s steadfast with his eyes always on the future—but the future itself belongs to others, not to him, necessarily. So, the epithet is both fitting and a touch ironic. ]

Problem is, wanting and accepting ain’t the same thing.Funny thing is, that’s pretty damn related to the second thing I wanted to ask you. It’s a favor. But we’ll get back to that.

[ He can explain Daybit and what they’d been fighting for in a minute, because diving into that first wouldn’t come off the way he’d want it to. So, instead, his hand settles on the back of Set’s neck, and he presses his forehead to the other god’s—or at least that’s the impression in Communion. It’s physical but also something relaxed like he’s letting more of his divinity seep out with the “touch”. It’s a gesture of sincerity. ]

If you survive, I survive, Yaotzin. [ He grants Set one of his epithets with a little joking in his tone, but he means it as a term of endearment. ] The mortals here might not, but maybe that’s their fate. Maybe it’s their destiny to create the fertile ground. And that’s why I can’t interfere. My balance isn’t one of makin’ sure both sides are playin’ nice. It’s of a winner and a loser and makin’ sure there’s a “tomorrow” after it all… Even if it means the death of a person, a civilization, or a whole damn planet.

[ It isn't exactly infrequent that Silco reaches out to Set via communion, though while Set receives more than most, it's also true that it is still sparing in comparison to other bearers, but it's still novel, simply because it is Silco, perhaps, and doubly so because it is Set. There is an odd line in communion, between the two of them, and it had always felt odd, the longer they were near each other, the more it becomes... odder.

The request, though, is only two words, though there's no lack of... consideration in them. As if there was a decision being made, a choice.

A distinct one, and it is as if there is a test against a barrier when he does it, as if there is an attempt to see if it is allowed, putting intent into the communion. Something, and Set would know it as similar to when those he knows speak of Weight that this is similar. ]

Come by?

[ Though the meaning is... difficult to tell from the impression. Plenty left unsaid, but so is the question of where, he doesn't tell Set where he is, just assuming that he'd know when he says it. Which to be fair: where else would Silco be? ]

[ There is no response that Set can give Silco, save to go. His presence has been requested ( how can his presence be requested, when it should simply be there? ), and thus it means he has no protest. No will to resist it, to slip from Cornerstone in Skysong to the still-dark depths of Kowloon-a-century-later, feeling a little smug about the state of it — torn into two camps with two distinct ideas of what "freedom" and "acknowledgement" mean, Yura gone, Aetós in control of Silco's own Shimmer — and his ability to enter Silco's office in Dramahol via his personal Cornerstone.

He alights through the stone, and immediately finds his way to the other man. His strange friend, a man who — for all intents and purposes, has always been similar to him. Painfully similar, to the point where Set has willingly and knowingly impressed his own responses to pain upon him, thought that their will was identical ( and was losing, on that end ). Still, he goes to Silco and isn't shy about ensuring he is seen, before he reaches his hand out and touches it to the scars on the man's face. A brief pass of his fingers, as he visibly sniffs the air like an animal.

Picks up on it, the way he had with Amos. And pulls back, sharp and thoughtful to go for the throat and learn. ]

And what does Jinx mean to you, now?

[ Has he changed beyond recognition? Does he prioritize someone else, now? Himself? Yima? ]

Edited 2024-05-14 19:30 (UTC)

IC INBOX ( KENOS ).

new year's delivery

communion

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kenotebook, late december

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re: the factory and such;

enjoy ur info dump, ryouma

thank u set he's very pleased

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two days before Cyrus' assassination

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surprise

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1/2

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communion!!!!!!!!11

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1/2

2/2

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1/2

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Sorry... This is stupid

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cw awful

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tldr he's so endeared to silco

they're soulmates ✍(◔◡◔)

immediately post-timeskip; cw for suicidal ideation + pseudo-incest this whole thread

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punches his arm

bites, etc,

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Ψ(￣∀￣)Ψ

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