IC INBOX ( KENOS ).

[redsoil]

█ To Commune with Set is to stand barefoot in an endless, scorching desert. The sun illuminates all, scalding the shadows themselves out from underneath whomever enters his dominion; the arch of gentle, distant, waves of sand mask the precarious chasms, towering dunes akin to mountains. The sense of vastness, timelessness, is of particular notice, lending itself to the alien, eldritch quality of his mind. There is a dark storm in the distance, and you know intimately that this divine being is far from benign. You cannot bargain with a force of nature. You can only survive it. COMPATIBLE WITH: Exalt, Iconoclast REPELLED BY: Advocate

♠

Comments

[appeale]

[ from the way they were given to her, Ruby had assumed that the unassuming jars were something deeply important to Set, and that Gen had clearly known as much – which makes the tension vibrating along the thread of their Communion all the more concerning. Gen, you idiot, what did you do...

it might be a good thing that he left them with her, of everyone he could have chosen. there probably isn't anybody else with as much experience in defusing situations like this. she's alert now, as much as she can be with her illness weighing down on her mind, but the sound of her voice remains drowsy, almost childish: ]

Mhm. Gen told me that I had to be really, really careful with them.

[ that bastard owes her for this one. ]

[redsoil]

[ Within Ruby's mind, Set's arms and hands wind through their fragile connection. He slips them through the curve of her elbows and drapes around her, warm and shaken and cautious as he attempts to card through her mind and find falsity from either of them. ( Paranoia is deep in his heart, a mistrust born of what Gen had done — had shown himself doing. He cannot believe either of them, until he feels the proof firmly in his hands. ) Even though his confidence in his and Ruby's arrangement is firm and true, there is a deep injury within him,

an old and violent betrayal,

that twists what he's cautiously built with everyone, sours it. Damages it in his mind, taints it. He wants to trust Ruby. With what Gen had done, though — ? ]

Did he, really? He seemed to conclude that tossing them from the island, into the abyss, was his decision before.

They are canopic jars. They hold parts of one's soul, in preparation for the afterlife and rebirth. There are four of them, in total. Two, I have and these two, if real... make four. Four of six pieces, of someone very important to me.

[appeale]

[ although Rudbeckia is usually cautious in her mindscape, on this matter, she seems to become malleable – not in the way of something soft and warm, but prey going limp in its captor's jaws. Set is gentle and careful with her as he searches for falsehood, and Ruby does not seem to be stung by his suspicion, nor surprised in the least. what colours her mind is simply... resignation. she expects to be scrutinised, to be taken apart and found dishonest regardless, no matter how fervently she tells the truth. but there is also a thin thread of steel woven through her submission, something she seems willing to hold even if it should cut her hands:

it's fine if someone thinks her a liar. she already knows that no one will ever listen to her. she just doesn't want to fuck this up for Gen, and so she has to push through, to speak around the way her throat closes up. ]

I don't know what happened between the two of you, but—

[ certain that her words won't suffice, she allows her memories to surface beneath Set's seeking fingers as they trail across her mind. Rudbeckia and Gen meeting under the sun at a café, Gen's hands resting on a bag like he's guarding it, his wary regard: I need'em to be moved carefully, though. blood dripping onto the table, and Gen's first instinct is to move them out of the way. Ruby slumping to the ground, Gen there to catch her, and yet that bag is still safe, unharmed.

Ruby's side of things in those memories – the blood, the collapse, the sensation of pain that cannot be excised from it – is out of focus, hazy. she dismisses it from the picture entirely. the point is Gen's rough hands, so protective of those jars. that soul. ]

It might not change anything about what he did to you... and of course I'm not trying to tell you how to feel. I just want you to know that he did everything to get these here safely.

[redsoil]

[ Where she offers herself and her memory, he scrapes over her. Carding through the image she holds of Gen, bringing the jars to her ( one, two ) and demanding care be taken with them. He remembers Gen's death-knell, when he'd shown Set the image of the tumbling jar, pushed from the island; the swimming sentiment below it finally, finally coming to bear. That Gen did not want to be forced into the corner where he'd have to retaliate in such a way. That he did not want to do it. That he chose not to, even if he'd lashed out to ensure Set hurt and, perhaps, would be less likely to go against him.

He kept them safe, even though Set had broken his skull open and defied him.

He curls softly around Ruby's mind, slipping his hands down to find her fingers and hold them. To pull himself away from where she lays herself open and accepts that he cannot believe her at her word ( and he will not apologize, because the matter of the jars drives him to madness; to behaviors that are more human than they are god, and he will hurt so many people to have them in his hands ) — and kisses the back of her head, nosing against her hair. ]

Thank you.

[ For holding them safely. For showing him Gen. For being something to him, as he seems to be something to her. ]

The jars are, [ Rudbeckia is loyal. ] My son. Anubis.

They hold parts of his soul, after he was torn apart. You should know this, because he is the only thing that ties me to Meridian. Without him, I would take to Zenith. We would remain the same, though. You and I. Whether you came with me, or remained as you are.

Gen used him as collateral, to ensure something important to him was returned to him. He used me. I would have — I would have helped him, anyways. You have helped us both, Rudbeckia, from losing one another by showing me this.