redsoil | IC INBOX ( KENOS ).

[ wherever Set is early one morning in early Takiltu, he will find himself the recipient of a gentle probe - the invitation to Commune with Yima. she does not hide her presence, making it known it is her; the feeling that accompanies this act is one of vague but discernible hope.

will Set speak with her? ]

[The demon's presence in her mind, though subtle and unobtrusive, had been like a poison to the hatred she felt for the person who had plucked her left eye from its socket. It had occupied her mind so much that she almost doesn't notice the other, but-]

You...

[If she sounds a little tired... She might have been doing the mental equivalent of a bucking bronco trying to get Sebastian out of her head.]

What are you doing here... ?

[ Past the events of the Scorching Isles, NAME will receive... A very nice, handwritten letter! Which, if you prefer the actual easy to read text (fair), is here. ]

[ Also included is Sebastian's address, which is located near the Tomes in Highstorm. Should your character wish to attend (and bring a +1), that log is a mingle style one here! No pressure to tag it if you're busy, but just let me know whether your character attends or not if you can't swing it OOC! ]

[ It starts with the feeling of a hand upon Set's face. The desire to taste the madness that the god has is overwhelming. Because he is drunk on victory. He wants to feel the wallowing shame and misery that the war god must be struggling under. So, he reaches out with a soft, comforting touch. ]

I hope that you made it back with no injuries. I would be sad if you were hurt.

[ things have settled down; against all odds, a conclusion has been reached. there’s still time before they can act on it, with manon’s shard apparently requiring an endless stream of purification, but there are other things to do.

all his conversations with set seem to come to the same point, so it feels like the time now to explain what he can, and to learn from set exactly what he is, in turn. the god of war, yes, but dextera doesn’t know what that means to set—only what it would mean in his own world.

seeking him out like this, communing with only him… there’s some hesitation, but dextera knows it will serve them both to speak. ]

I said I would tell you about myself. I hope you’ll listen.

[ the feeling of Communion with Rudbeckia is always skittish, but this time, the heartbeat that thrums across the connection is far more intense, vibrating through Ruby's ribcage and echoing in Set's ears. something weighs on her, and she wants very much to flee. she digs her heels in, instead. ]

Signore? I— Um, if you aren't busy at the moment... Cetina told me something important.

Edited 2023-03-02 01:55 (UTC)

[ So after a probably very nice chat with Voryn (?), Quetzalcoatl does reach out through Communion to her favorite fighting buddy and fellow god. After all, Voryn seemed less than thrilled to learn there was "another God" in Meridian, and gee!! Who could that be!!

So, with all of the tone of a big sister here to scold a rude little brother, Quetzalcoatl is bursting into Set's Communion space. ]

Ay, Set!! Have you been being mean to people before I got here? You're only supposed to be the rudo in the coliseum, not outside!

[It’s very fitting to Mamoru, that there’s a deity that is the god of War and Sand equally. Even though sand is but a humble and unassuming tool, often overlooked by those who seek grandeur in arcane rituals or mystical enchantments, it is still something that ancients would use to sharpen their blades. Bladesmiths honed the edges, stripping away impurities and imperfections, and repetitive motion became symphony, resounding with the essence of their purpose. The sand is a conduit, a bridge connecting the weapon to the vast expanse of the battlefield.

In a way, the swordsman wishes to be no different from the sand. It tested the metal's mettle, wearing away impurities and revealing its true potential.

The invitation couldn’t have come at a better time.]

Set.

[It’s not a question. Mamoru knows he’s there.]

( late afternoon is just beginning to bleed into early evening when makoto reaches out to set. he gets the sense, despite not using Communion much since his arrival in kenos, that he doesn't enjoy this form of communication. he additionally gets the inclination he's never appreciated the immediacy and intimacy it can offer between the thoughts and feelings of Shard-Bearers, to the very contents of their souls, but... he has his own ways of dealing with it.

the young demon's presence is an odd one, obfuscated in ways mirrored and deployed from methods and tactics he had picked up in hell. a defensive array of shifting reflections; a man behind a mask; a message in cipher; a note passed beneath a closed and locked door. this is the impression he gives, and it also gives the sense of having little to nothing to do with who he reaches out to. it all reflects back inward, to either define the demon known as M or at the very least describe the lengths he would go to to protect what it is he feels is at the core of himself.

and even still, he can feel the heat emanating from the psychic connection to set; endless sky and sand. )

Master Set.

( the words give the strange indication of those written rather than those said; the script is elaborate, looping, well-practiced. )

Might I inquire as to your available this fine evening?

[ something about this communion link will feel wrong immediately. It will feel far less like a simple linkup of minds with someone entering Set's personal communion space and more like something invading. The sands and their endless golden plane of dunes as high as mountains and as low as valleys along with everything in between— the deceiving serenity of the sand of Set's true nature starts to feel stripped somehow. The already present storm in the distance bellows louder, its thunderous hooves chasing lightning streaks suggesting it to be far closer than it appears.

The bright pale sand under the unforgiving sun starts to bleed dark suddenly, it becoming wet like the revealed beach shores as the ocean tide temporarily recedes back out into the open waters. The softness of the sand starts to dissipate, becoming heavy, sticky, and saturated until some places are like mud puddles. The water seems to bubble from the bottom beneath the sand itself, acting like torrential rains are suddenly falling upon land that can't seem to absorb enough of the liquid fast enough to keep the water from flooding.

The water itself is like furious panic— it reeks of wild unbridled anger and raw anxiety, a formidable beast that has never known such conflicting emotions and can only hurdle itself deeper into the chaos it unfurls.

Something is moving beneath the sand that should not be now, too— but every time it seems to become clear where it is and what it might be, the water trembles with such energy that the volatile waters somehow seem to drown the creature and all traces of it until it can be seen once again close to the surface somewhere else.

Despite all this, the invading waters do not dare try to overwhelm the desert by any means. In the vast perspective it, the water burdens a small area of the desert by tampering it with unusual and perhaps unsettling phenomenon. If Set were to approach it, he would find he doesn't even sink into the waters and will instead remain on top of them despite their visually apparent depth. The waves don't even seem capable of touching Set in his own mindscape, unless he wants them to. Should he look down though while standing on the water, he will see his reflection and then further—down down and further down into the abyssal waters beneath the wavy sands. The dark shadow of the unidentified sea creature lurks there, but looking even deeper past it he will "see" someone at the seeming endless bottom.

Childe's mindscape form is there, a strange black liquid corruption leaking like blood from an open wound and drenching his form until he's ultimately weighed down in place.

It'll be hard to get his attention, and this ordeal will quickly look like it's all unintentional— not the link itself but certainly the way it manifests. From Childe's point of view, he can't see that he's anywhere close to stepping into Set's haven, and the sensation of frustration and being lost only ripples through the water disproportionately amplified back to the surface as a result. The emotions felt in the water (all of them including the rage and panic that had been there from the get go) clearly are Childe's, too. There is no direct target for his tumultuous emotions, which only seems to make them more erratic.

—But Childe's voice will echo, it sounding like he's walking along the decaying edge of losing his fucking mind in a rampage of cutoffs insanity and simply absolutely terrified. ]

( What the fuck do you want from me—! )

[ It echoes like it's all underwater or far away, as if it's entirely outside of their communion link.

( And it is. )

The voice that follows now is a child's voice, one much younger than Childe is now (or perhaps not all that much younger at all upon closer inspection, especially as a human being) that is much clearer: ]

help. It hurts, I need help! Set— can you hear me? I can't find my way back! [ ( and perhaps there's more than one meaning to that than simply a literal one that will be noticed upon retrospect of events that have not yet happened. )

A small hand will tug at Set's shendyt (or whatever is closest to such that he dons in this mindscape,) and should he look he'll see a timid little boy (there's no mistaking who it is) next to him closing his eyes tightly and all tense like he's afraid to get the other's attention. When he opens his eyes and looks up, though, he's teary-eyed, confused and unhappy. ]

I... I messed up! I need help, please come get me before something bad happens!

[ There's a sudden loud strike of lightning that illuminates the entire (dark like a sudden solar eclipse) sky despite the sun having been scorching bright only moments ago and the sound of something cracking and shattering. That shattering seems to be the representative of their communion connection falling apart.

The sun returns with its warmth and light as if it never disappeared, and so is Set's mindscape now exactly as it was before without a single trace of the momentary hurricane of absolute havoc that invaded it. Childe's presence and those suffocating emotions have dissipated, like a roiling terror of a storm that has lasted only mere seconds before continuing on its restless journey.

Even so, it would be very hard to convince oneself that what occurred wasn't a cry for help of some kind. Childe at least certainly seems to feel threatened, enough that he maybe isn't even capable of controlling a stable communion link right now.

( either way pls come help big brother ~~he can't deal with real dates that weren't his idea~~ ) ]

[It has been a month, hasn't it? The sun still feels unwelcoming in many ways, as if her place beneath it was never really hers.

This is normal. She has only ever had the places granted to her by benevolence. She has always been grateful for them. She has always accepted and worked and prayed.

There's an easiness that betrays the discomfort of their Communion. It is never pleasant, but it is always easy, the way porcelain knows how to fall in a way that ensures it breaks, or the way an insect bites beneath the joint where it will always itch.]

Pagan God Set. I seek enlightenment. I don't ask a lot of questions, so will you indulge me today?

[It is so very gentle, the way she says it.]

[ john chooses the same place he'd encountered set last time for this. it had been suitable before, so it will be sufficient now as well. location isn't really a factor that matters as long as it's quiet and without distractions.

he's thorough, so he arrived early, knowing what preparation he needed to do would be time-consuming. john has no need for rituals, but wards are a different matter. he's been working on these for a bit to adjust his theorems to account for kenos' energy, and he's hoping they will hold out long enough to be useful. they are made out of blood and bone, and he is putting the final touches on the last one. the significance of the patterns they're shaped into isn't clear at a glance, but john seems satisfied with them.

a lot more of this is guesswork than he'd like, but kenos presents a unique problem. he's been in space and on different planets, but never in a place made up of islands floating in an astral sea — if that's even the whole truth — so, this is all new territory. it might actually be interesting to look into all this, engaging him in a way that hasn't for a very long time, but that all really depends on whether or not anyone will listen when he's through. ]

[The desert had vanished from the corner of Hayame's mind, even though it felt now that it had almost always been there, ever since a dryad's bond had forced them to share Communion and a demand for the god's blessing had permanently left a part of them in each other. It wasn't like the times they had turned from each other or felt consumed with anger or upset. It was not distant, not impenetrable... It was gone, and she could find no trace of sand or whiff of heat in the air no matter where she searched.

She had looked for him. She had asked after him- at least, she had asked some. Far too many of the people she suspected might know his whereabouts she personally despised or considered an enemy, and the last thing she would do is reveal to such people that Meridian had misplaced their god of war, let alone the fact that she as an individual might care about Set as a "friend". And so... She had no real answer for where he might have gone, or what might have happened to him. Even when he went into the Beyond, she had been able to vaguely sense him, and so-

There is only the conclusion that he must be dead, the rage of loss, and the fear of what could have killed him. Had he been shattered? Would he return? She does not know a single thing, and the paranoia grows.

But a few days later, when the sand begins to return, when she can feel a touch of warmth returning to that place... She is there immediately, the coalescing desert lapping at her hooves. Behind her is a storm, barely contained to the dark and ominous peak of the cold mountain, just waiting to be unleashed on whoever had done this, whether beast or Zenite-

Yet she does not speak. She waits, there at the edge, for him to show himself.]

Ah, I can contact you again. Good. Set, I have a question: do you want to see a pegasus?

[ The request for communion is less a request, more a demand — a thunderous pounding on the doors of Set's mind, persistent and unrelenting until Amos' presence is allowed in. And where communion with him is typically a simple affair, any pesky emotions largely muted, here there is a white hot anger that's let in with him, roiling temperature matching what must be a desert.

He knows something about that feeling, now, after his last encounter with Hayame, with some kind of magic used against him that had come from Set. That reminder pisses him off all the more, and when he speaks it's in a snarl, pointed edges along every syllable seeking to impale.

It is, in all likelihood, the most in the way of feelings that Set has ever experienced from him. ]

Where the fuck is my gun.

[ It is a demand, a threat, a promise, all rolled up into one: give it back to him, now. ]

[ The Communion starts abruptly, as it always does. Like a windowframe being yanked at from the outside, demanding entry now. And the moment that Set decides to accept, whether that's immediately or after a delay --

he'll receive an image. A real-time broadcast of where Gen's standing out on the edge of a barren cliff somewhere, looking over a steep, steep drop, so high up that the ground below vanishes into shadows and fog. Set must feel it, the sensation of a chill breeze against skin, the whistle of wind past vertical walls of rock, and the stifling smell of cold dirt. Gen spends a moment gazing out over the barren scenery surrounding him before his gaze dips down, and along with it, Set's, to fix on what lies by his feet.

A pair of jars. ]

I told you to fucking stay out of my way, didn't I.

[ Gen's voice comes as a flat drawl, and he nudges at one of the jars with the tip of his boot. It shifts where it sits on the ground, pushed ever so slightly closer to the edge, where it would topple into oblivion. ]

[Sleep has alluded Hayame since they returned to their proper sizes. Victory has not felt nearly as satisfying as it should. Because in the process of securing that victory, of throwing herself into the violent task of claiming, keeping, and stealing Oracle objects, desperate to do the work of five Meridians in order to make sure they did not fail to passivity and disinterest from the weak in their number as they had during the Iconoclast Oracle’s reign…

Hayame had suffered. Suffered in ways she could not confide in others without shame, or could not accurately explain to others without bodies like hers. One of only two she would trust to understand was Set… but.

She cannot be so weak as to seek comfort from him so openly, so pathetically. She is his warrior. If she does not remain strong… she will not be anymore. So when she reaches out to him, in that familiar space where sand swirls against snow-]

Set.

I have a favor to ask of you. The price, you may name.

[In her “hands”, a persimmon and a pomegranate. On her face (in her soul), exhaustion and hauntings.]

You can coax these things to grow… yes?

[An invitation is extended in the mind. To the house Liem Talbott had built in Alenroux. The one she now resides in. A “home”.]

[ Very much out of the blue, Set will receive a Communion from his favorite demon! Is he up to mischief? You bet! ]

Nb Set, do forgive me for inquiring very much out of the blue... But you came up in a conversation involving your dear friend Mr. Burton. [ His tone is teasing, since he knows they're anything but. ] With as brightly as your rivalries burn, I could not help but wonder! Are there any other Shard-Bearers who also hold such an esteemed place in your heart?

[ But, this being two demons (or close enough), he knows the rules, so: ]

If you would like to indulge in a bit of gossip, I shall share with you those who hold my ire, naturally.

Edited 2023-09-19 15:30 (UTC)

[Weeks after the Exalt Oracle had been claimed, in the middle of a perfect, lovely day, one in which it might seem nothing could go wrong at all... Someone is screaming.

With no warning, no build, the equivalent of a sudden desperate, panicked pounding at the door, an attempt at Communion comes slamming into Set's psyche. There are no words, no plea for help in anything but a jumbled, inarticulate, weak longing for it, but stronger is the vicious shame, the fear, the rage, rage brighter than a blazing sun ready to flare.

There's a scalpel glinting in the light, a pain deep in the skull spreading, spreading, something that should never be touched flayed raw and pulled out, on fire at every ending. An eye, sickly green, dangles between gloved fingers, but then it is a stormy grey eye, dangling by the slick and severed optic nerve between bloody fingers in the rubble of a city under siege. Running, she's running alongside him, a jinba and a war god to whom shape meant nothing, wind streaming through ebon and crimson manes, water splashing, laughter, fingers gently brushing through wet hair. There are sharp teeth smiling sadistically, the shadowy silhouette blurred by something hot and wet and a backing of bright lighting. Ropes, straps, no matter how much she struggles she can't move, she can't fight, no, no, no, she doesn't want it, she doesn't want it and it doesn't matter, it hurts, it hurts෴

And then there's nothing.]

Edited 2023-09-21 17:59 (UTC)

Set?

[ ever since their understanding was reached, the sharper edges of Rudbeckia's mind soften at the touch of Set's presence; a frozen flower bud that thaws under the sun, does not bloom in full but unfurls, slowly, cautiously. some anxiety always remains, mere background noise of her existence rather than a fear ignited by him. she circles him at his feet, waiting to receive his attentions.

there is something else, though. the two of them become entangled so easily that she cannot stop the sensations from bleeding through: her head swimming with nausea, stomach turning itself over. pain that splinters her skull, every inch of her body screaming with agony as though she had been crawling through a river of broken glass. she is reduced to a shivering, trembling animal. and yet her Communion carries no distress, no outstretched hand in plea for his help. the voice that reaches him is soft and sleepy, and as she rouses, all the sickness and pain is reeled in, shut safely away so that he can no longer feel it. ]

Um, Gen left something with me to give to you... [ an image follows, a familiar set of ornate canopic jars, resting on the soft bed of a wicker basket. Ruby is curled protectively around the scene, but she does not lay a finger on the jars. ] I'm looking after them at the shrine.

[ Very suddenly, there’s a sense of Communion touching your character’s mind. However, it’s as if they connect with the mind of a shared Aspect, as they’re not able to block out the brief, but sharp memory that comes to them. ]

A Shard-Bearer sits people-watching at a café in Highstorm, and they think that no matter how long they’re in Kenos, the wonder will never pass. Why a white-collar office worker was picked for this task, they’ll never know, but living out the story of a manga isn’t so bad.

[ ooc note — Just to avoid OOC confusion/misinterpretation, the details included in this memory are random and are not necessarily interconnected or plot meaningful beyond a surface level. However, your character is free to interpret this random memory however they’d like! This event will also be touched on somewhat during today’s NPC Communion Post. ]

[ A few days before the Oracle kicks off, Set will find a present waiting for him at home one day! Just from the way it's absolutely perfectly wrapped, there's almost no need to include a card. But tucked under the velvet ribbon decorating the box is a simple, brief card in a familiar, elegant hand. ]

I may as well double the wager.
- S

[ And inside the box is yet another stuffed rabbit... But this one bears a much more familiar resemblance. ]

[drops this here so i don't forget

There is an entire monstrosity of nightmare horse to ride, yet D is walking alongside of it with the reins in his right hand. As expected, he's still dressed to the nines in the dark, leather outfit, hat and all. The only new addition (besides the horse), is the long sword worn on his back.

In Springstar, he sticks out like a sore thumb among the perpetual sun and the godly shine of Set's balcony greenhouse above. Beneath the hat, he doesn't pay it too much mind until he happens to catch a glimpse of crimson red and porcelain which actually get him to pause and glance upward.

The long cape shifts over his shoulder, and there isn't anything sitting in the shadows of the left side except a leather stump just shy of the joint of the elbow.]

Edited (wait i should put which one) 2023-11-26 05:29 (UTC)

[On the shortest day of the year—or the longest, by Springstar’s calendar—Liem makes his rounds to play Santa himself, though without the red-and-white costume. For the past few months, his regular visits to Springstar’s community centre have been in service of crafting handmade solstice gifts for the people in his life. Unlike last winter, this time, he’s prepared.

Some of the items he brings are simply handed over without fuss: a couple fat, pleasantly spiced hand-made candles and a bottle of wine. (He didn’t make the wine, though.) The last item he delivers, with a bit more care, is a plump throw pillow with tassels and an embroidered pattern decorating it. If it smells a little like him, it’s because this he did make himself.]

[ The request from communion has none of Silco's usual mental notes, none of the slimy, subtle way he normally slides up against Set's mental barriers. Normally he is like a puddle of polluted water, leaking under the door in lieu of a mental knock. Now, though, he is more like a wave crashing at the door, banging against it like a torrent, fighting to be let in before he bursts in like a torrent, a storm in the form of a man. It's like he's pacing in shared communion, an agitated mumble of anger, fear, worry, despair, circling over and over like they were dogs chasing each other in a circle.

He's reaching out to Set because there is a shared thread between them. Something that they share, or rather, something that they both value, above all things. That there was something greater than the two of them. That they both would do anything for. This thing that they share is a line, and it's one Silco tugs in this moment, because of all people — Set would understand his distress and the anguish that roiled through him. A desperate fear.

Set would understand what he asks. He would not abuse the knowledge, because like Silco had told him once in this very office before — They would never use their children against one another. They were fighting desperately for them, and them alone.

No, Set wouldn't do anything of that nature. That is the reason he can tell himself he comes now to him, even though the agitation is deeper than even his daughter's future. It's about something else, and when he gives voice through communion, the request sounds partially distressed. ]

I need to see you. Immediately. It's important.

[ Silco's demand is not a command, though it's very nearly there. It's strained as if Silco is holding back the torrent within him, even as it rages against Set's mental walls. ]

Early Takiltu; communion

post-dryad dream

a letter sent at the start of emru

a few days after the scorching isles... you thought i was kidding!

after the manon debate (voice)

communion; early pelu.

surprise

action. Before. Things.

communion | mid-Erqu

communion. (ooc. approx a month after the Iconoclast Oracle.)

it's time to pay for your sins again set (i see seiko is here also, so, twice). communion;