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

[kenosnpcs]

[ it is abnormal, perhaps, Yima's power and strength of presence in Communion. one should not be able to touch another in this way, but for a moment... surely Set will feel as though matronly hands stroke over his brow with fondness. ]

Is it me your heart worries over? It is your condition that invites concern, Set. I have heard you are troubled...

[redsoil]

[ It isn't the first time as of late that he has thought of Nut, of the mother he tore his way from rather than waited for her readiness -- it is not the first time he's yearned for her dark hands to hold him while he ached and took ill.

He allows himself but a moment to rest, quiet, in Yima's space. To feel her presence. Then, he draws himself in -- he is a lance and and arrow and the sand upon which feet burn into ashes. ]

Should I rejoice in an impossible choice? Surely if anyone knows anything of me, it is that given two choices, I will burn them both and take my own route.

[ That is what ails him must. ]

I like you, Yima. My nature urges me to choose you, but my mind has expanded -- it seeks amends, and for that, I must align with Cyrus's goals. That is my trouble.

[kenosnpcs]

Tell me. What is it you atone for?

[ to make amends, to pay recompense for his transgressions - she would hear them if he would give them voice.

or... he might show her. their bond is unnaturally strong - Yima's power is not that of a normal Bearer, and should he wish to, he can convey his thoughts, his feelings, even his memories freely. it will be as easy as breathing.

an option among many. ]

And why is that atonement only a path you might walk alongside the Meridian?

[redsoil]

Fratricide and usurpation of the throne of Egypt. Decadence and decay. Mass slaughter and the torment of thousands of human souls. Take your pick, o' leader.

[ He'd rather voice them, one after another, than allow anyone to glean them from his mind. There is the hint of a firm wall, shot through with dark vines and flowering red blooms; a beautiful desert flower, deadly and causing such agony. Behind that fragile defense, is the outpouring of a sentiment: I will die before I let you look.

Perhaps outside of their Communion, he is already holding an improvised weapon to his throat. Ready to spill his life and take secrets and truths to the grave. ]

I must return them all to Duat. To do that, I must have my world whole. They are waiting for me there, my son and my wife. My family.

[kenosnpcs]

[ it is a boundary Yima does not press. her presence lingers all the same, like fingers gently ghosting a touch against those beautiful red blooms, deadly and precious. ]

It is a reunion you hope to earn.

[ a soft, momentary pause-- ]

If they were to join you here, would your choice remain the same?

[redsoil]

[ There is madness in those flowers. They were not made by Set's soul, though they resonate with the shape and make of him; they are accursed things, made of someone's insane idea of love. It's horrendous, and it makes him so small and fragile -- not like a god ought to be.

He does not hide how her words affect him. How, in fact, he wants that more than he wants to perform penance for his crimes. ]

I want that, so much. I want my family back, you know it to be true -- you can feel it. It is why I want to go to your side, to Zenith's ways. Such things are natural for an evil god, a selfish father.

[ He says it, though there is still such a struggle within him. ]

Did you have children, Yima? Your own.

[kenosnpcs]

You are not evil, Set. You, like a reflection of the land from which you came, are imperfect. Not even the gods could lay claim to perfection, try as they might.

[ those tangled blooms are so, so gently explored as she speaks. experimental; exploratory. seeking. ]

...I did. [ the rise of grief, of mourning, and threaded throughout both - love, accompanies her answer. ]

They have been beyond my reach for as long as I have been of Kenos. Your longing... I understand.

[redsoil]

[ -- there is a sudden, ripe burst of hostility from him. The rearing of an unbroken steed, the lashing backhand of someone who knows only to lash out when touched in a way that is unwelcome. It is not to her fingering the desert flower that he kicks at this ancient being, but to her insinuation that the gods, that his world was imperfect. ]

How dare you.

[ He strangles his own mourning, his own quest for connection with her sense of motherhood, in the cradle. Presses it down, rejecting what he'd wanted. How dare she. ]

What is your idea of perfection, then? What image do you hold in your mind above all else?

[kenosnpcs]

I do not ask for, nor want, perfection. You, your land, your people... your gods - they are all as they are meant to be. There is beauty in their imperfections, in each crease and soft line of them.

[ of you, goes unspoken yet heard all the same.

the fingers gently withdraw from desert flowers, but her presence remains, omniscient. ]

My children are flawed. I, too, am flawed. I would have it no other way. I love them no less for every mistake they make, Set.

The only thing so perfect is such a love. You know it well.

[redsoil]

Well, I am asking for everything. For all of Egypt, for the people and my family. It is the whole of my world, and Zenith resolves itself that such a thing is gone forever.

[ Honestly, were he able to have all of that... the rest of the world, the Caanites, the Hellenics, the Vedics, the Babylonians? They could burn. They could flounder forth one day from the roots of Yima's great tree, perhaps, and make the attempt to save their immediate world, or the full of it. ]

I'm not asking for love, Yima. You cannot lie to me, even sweetly - I am not here to be loved. I just want the truth.

[ Of all the things he is frail and tenuous over, nothing is more resolute than the soul-deep knowledge ( curse ) that he is unlovable. There is only one person who loves him, and he is a madman. ]

Who must I condemn, to have what is mine?

[kenosnpcs]

Whether you wish for it or not, it is yours. Here, laid at your feet. It follows in your shadow cast by sun and moon alike.

[ every step he takes in Kenos, it will be with him.

but there is a quiet, soft, subtle ache at his words, his refusal to accept that love. it is natural, considering his position - and yet... ]

...Your heart yearns for what is beyond your reach. The world you long for is gone; I cannot offer you salvation, the restoration of Egypt.

I hope you will come to understand the Meridian cannot, either. Must you swallow honeyed lies and false hopes...?

[redsoil]

That's not -- I'm not a fool, Yima.

[ He doesn't look to Meridian because he thinks they're honest.

Honestly, he doesn't look to Zenith either - one side offers hope, the other offers acceptance. Neither option is very enticing to him, and it strangles him to think that he must decide between his nature and who he wants to be. He thinks of Anubis, and his promise. He thinks of Nephthys, awaiting him.

In his palms, he holds the ancient effigy of his nephew; blue faience and aged clay, fragile and naught but a memory. And he thinks, he wonders what he can do. What a powerless god like he can do, to restore his world. Hope or acceptance? ]

What happened, to bring you these convictions of yours? I have to ask. Why are you so certain of your way?

[kenosnpcs]

Not a fool, but a man whose heart may be misguided by fools.

[ there is no judgment behind these words. she does not fault him for where he stands, even if it aligned against her - against her beliefs. but all the same... ]

Your soul, like mine, like every other Bearer that walks Kenos, has passed through the Tree. It is through the Tree I find you, find what is left of the pieces of you, and make you whole again.

There is no making whole what has been broken. I have seen it; I have felt it.

[ her world, his world.

all of them. ]

[redsoil]

[ She really hits the nail on the head. In some way, she knows this so-called 'evil god' is astray, unmoored. He is in agony, turmoil that echoes and resonates within him and yearns to fold itself into her embrace. She is the mother he never really had, the one he wants to hide his face in the lap of and become small, to redo everything in his life with her guidance. Nut had never. Ra had said the gods were not meant for familial love, the way humans were. ]

The two sides of this battle are really not that different.

[ He sighs it, beyond dejected. Somewhere numb and quiet. ]

You're far too elusive with your words. You play into emotions over anything of substance. You give nothing away, hinting only at nebulous transactions and knowledge we aren't to know. What choice is there, really?

[ He'd pick her. In a heartbeat. His despair yearns for her comfort. ]

If I come, on my own, to see my choice as a mistake... will you still accept me?

[kenosnpcs]

Please listen, silly boy.

[ it's strange - surreal, perhaps; he might think himself seeing things, the impression of the dark-skinned woman whose smile is painted across his mind's eye with the fondness of a mother looking upon a beloved son.

that woman reaches as if to cradle him to her, and for but a moment - he might sincerely feel that she is there. it is warm; she smells of stars, and of home. ]

There is no mistake you could make that would see you beyond me.

[redsoil]

[ There is a shattered thing inside of him, a chasm of agonizing doubt and pain. Something has torn itself to pieces within him, left him mad and bereft and barely clinging to the scraps of sanity and motivation. Injuries are both ancient and new, and her touch in their Communion is both a balm and something he has likely never felt before.

It does, however, feel like the way he would reach out to his own child. The way he yearns to hold Anubis in his arms and kiss his small hands, his fat fingers and palms until his child giggles and coos and looks at him with his beautiful, dark eyes that knew no lies or pain. He wants to return to his wife and son, he wants to go back. He cannot.

If he chooses Yima, he knows he will embrace his despair and fall into her arms for comfort. It will be like -- it will be like running away. ]

Let me try, [ he asks of this strange woman, who will not loathe him for his decision. ] I don't think you're wrong, Yima. I truly do not.

[ He was not made for good things, he knows now. He is a god of war. Fighting is in his nature, as much as disorder is. ]

You have my faith. But, I must go to my punishment, and keep my promise. If I fail in that -- you will have me.

[kenosnpcs]

Long as it will take... and whatever becomes of you, I will wait.

I will wait for you.

[ the ghost of a sensation presses into his hair - the softness of a chaste and reassuring kiss, one that will leave him slowly finding a new rose blooming among those of stark red--

black as void, it shimmers with countless bright flecks across its petals - gleaming stars inside each petal as if it contained a universe inside it.

...and then, she is gone, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of home in her wake.

LOREMASTER NOTE: whenever Set reaches inside of himself for comfort, he will find himself temporarily pacified for short bursts of time each time he touches Yima's flower. a petal drops each time the flower is touched, and will die once all are expired. you may choose however many (within reason) you'd like and use them as you see fit! ]