[ It takes a moment for Homelander to respond, torn between several warring poles, none of which provide a terrible amount of clarity as to how he's supposed to feel about all of this. ]
[ set doesn't respond again after he receives the notice, electing instead to advance on the man's location. it's with obvious determination that he comes for homelander; single-minded and stern-browed as he always is, pushing through nearby hedges with a burst of energy before he stands before his friend and props his fists on his hips. #judgy ]
β do you know that you are the only person I have told about my son? My greatest vulnerability and joy, and I gave that knowledge to you.
[ he doesn't even hesitate, in snappishly declaring it to homelander's face. he knows he's not a good friend, but neither had he ever really claimed to be one. honestly, he's a private person! ]
As a father yourself, I thought you would understand the importance I place in sharing that identity with you.
[ As soon as Homelander lays eyes on Set β the expression on his face, the clear sense that there's some kind of fire lit under his ass β he reacts in kind, his expression setting into a frown, his shoulders pushing back as he prepares forβ some kind of onslaught. Granted, it's not really what he expects, hence the almost immediate deflation of his posture. ]
It's not like I'm throwing Ryan's name around everywhere, either, [ he says, automatically defensive. It sounds pathetic, even to him, but it's the only thing he can muster, every other thought β that he considers Set a true friend, that he's never really had friends before β much too vulnerable to share out loud, his hesitation as much a product of lifelong loneliness as the bitten-back truths themselves. ]
What does that have to do with anything, anyway? You get gay married to a ginger and I'm supposed to, what, donate to your bridal registry?
You are the one who said "I thought you would tell me"!
[ He sounds aghast at Homelander NOT understanding why he's lead with a reminder that he told the man about the most important thing in his entire life; far more important than being fae-hitched to "a ginger"!! For one, Shanks isn't really a ginger. He's about as red of hair as Set is, which is wild to think of for him. Normally, that shade of red is attributed to him alone, iconic and immutable from his godhood. For another, he doesn't really feel all that territorial about their relationship: it is what it is, and have come to a mutual conclusion that it's a difficult thing to understand.
It messed up Shanks's relationship with the little pirate crew, after all. Is it any wonder Set might be slightly concerned ( and rightfully so! ) that the same could happen to his own cultivated ones? He would survive losing them, but so rapidly on the heels of Matt? Someone he trusted to the same degree as Homelander, but would speak of Certain Matters to that he wouldn't with the other? It's ridiculous behavior! So, he advances on the man a little further, reaching out to slip his hands around Homelander's and grasp it tightly. Rooting them in place for the moment. Bold as anything, in the way that he always seizes someone's person ( but hates the reciprocal ). ]
I never would ask of you to do that. Nor do I feel poorly that you do not tell me of your relationships.
[ what the fuck is a bridal registry ]
If you want to, you will. If it happens, I will be interested. I just... do not value your friendship for the things you do not share. Whether by choice, or because you have not been given the opportunity to speak of them.
[ As Set's fingers close around his, Homelander instinctively tenses, a terse, ] Don't, [ gritted out through his teeth, though he doesn't immediately tug his hands away, nor manage to finish the thought.
He thinks, again, of what Shanks had said. He needs friends like you. And now, the idea of the value of friendship β what does he even have to compare it to? Not Maeve, who'd been forced into a partnership with him, who'd grown to hate him as soon as she'd really gotten to know him. Not Black Noir, even, who's always been there but never said a word. As for the others he's met here, Pierce doesn't demand this of him (or hasn't, yet), and his fondness for Aemond is unavoidably colored by his devotion to Alicent, in itself a different kind of care.
He doesn't have anything to draw from that isn't idealized, somehow. Isn't that what friendship should be? Total and complete trust, all things shared. Because he looks at Set and thinks, I want to tell you. ]
You already know, [ he says, uncertainty audible in his voice. ] You know I was there, during Werewolf. When you talked to Alicent. I was there for her.
[ And maybe that's not the point, but the next thing he says isn't, either: ]
I knew. I am surprised you still became my friend, knowing that I threatened her family.
[ It would be understandable, if Homelander had chosen to stand with Alicent against him, for that reason. Yet, they had remained close β as close as brutal men like them could be β even with that between them. Perhaps that is why he doesn't relinquish his hold on Homelander's hand; the tension is unknowable to him, it could be for any number of reasons and Set is abysmal at reading others and their emotions. Their finely-held thoughts.
He just knows contact is control, in some ways. Badly as he aches to fight Homelander for the thrill, maybe doing so because he's upset would tarnish the fragile bond. And then he laughs, bold and brassy as he throws his head back β that guy???. ]
Do you think someone here is better for me? My, you are opinionated. [ There's a faint fondness in his tone, as finally he lets go of Homelander's hand. ]
He is considerate, for a man. I feel like more than a weapon, around him.
[ A part of him thinks that's right. Maybe he should have taken it more personally. But it had just been in a game, in the end. Of the four points of the square β him, Alicent, Set, Shanks β none of them had died, even if some of the other Targaryens had borne some the game's weight.
He gets it. Gets what it is to not feel like a weapon, to feel like something other than a mantle. It's why he cares about Alicent the way he does; she makes him feelβ not normal, that most awful of all things, but seen. Understood, as impossible as that may be. (Maybe it's a lie he tells himself, one he doesn't know better than to know isn't true, but while it lastsβ)
And he knows that Set would know that better than most. ]
You threaten her again, I'll kill you myself.
[ That, at least, he knows how to say. Easier than I know what you mean. And then, easier than trying to push forward: ] Forget it. It'sβ [ he waves a hand, starting to turn to leave ] βfine.
I make no promise, as it would be a lie. I have no current need to use her family as leverage, which is what I told her.
[ It's declared with the same elevated, strange mentality of someone above-human. Who can care for others ( clearly! ), but also not everyone. Alicent is someone he respects, but has no consideration for. Just because Homelander likes her is not enough reason for Set to extend anything to her.
Heedless of the equal dangers that Homelander possesses, the sheer brutality and precision of his mind, Set seems far more happy to hear such a vow made before him; it's a simmering undercurrent of violence, the promise of battle, and with someone he CLEARLY likes, that's a cocktail waiting to be mixed up and set before him. A temptation he would never be able to resist. He's quick to shift his form, rolling across Homelander's ankles as soft, sun-heated sands before reforming before him. At his front again, eyes bright and delighted. ]
β but, I welcome your own promise of violence. One day, we may even find ourselves competing, instead of cooperating!
[ It's not the answer Homelander wants to hear by a significant margin. Displeasure digs a furrow into his brow, his upper lip curling as he struggles to reconcile his thoughts.
Maybe it's a sort of Highlander situation, he thinks. There can only be one, applied to the idea of godhood. And it's less that he wants that than that he's learned it to be his given right in life, to be the most powerful man on Earth, to be able to act with total impunity because no one could match him. But it competes with what he wants, with the loneliness he's carried since boyhood.
(Maybe the catching point is that he's not a god. Set was made to war, made to complete, whereas Homelander, at the end of the day, splinters into a million human fragments. Pathetic, vulnerable, needy.)
Set's transformation, at least, serves as a distraction, a quick, ] Jesus, fuck, [ leaving Homelander's mouth as he steps back β to little effect β frown only growing deeper as he watches Set's shape reform. ]
Yeah, that'll be the day.
[ And if it doesn't sound like he relishes the idea, it's because he doesn't β the kinds of fights he likes are the ones he knows he can win. ]
If you want a fight, just ask me for it. Leave her out of it.
[ But, is it not the honest one? Set is incapable of lies; twisting truths, playing on words and generally being a tricky, conniving bastard are well-within his repertoire, but outright lying to anyone β friend or foe β is categorically denied to him. That is how existence counterbalances his wild nature, and helps prevent him from tipping the order beyond its ability to naturally recover. As he comes to stand before Homelander again, it is with the knowledge that he is blocking the man's path. Preventing him from leaving, denying him escape, penning him in ( in the open, lmao ). He wears his brilliance openly, eyes flashing and broad-pupiled, like a predator that is taking in as much stimuli as possible before moving in for a lethal strike. Sharp canines displayed prominently, as he continues to smile in his most enticing way. Warm, in the way that something murderous could only be. ]
Would you? Really? You would lay hand upon me, and let me test your mettle?
[ There's a fever in his breathless words, and were he less of a man, he might clasp his hands together before himself β pleading with the energy of a giddy schoolgirl awaiting the answer to a love letter shoved in her crush's locker. ]
I have worked alongside you. Witnessed your strength and brutality. I could think of no greater honor than to challenge you, and be challenged by you. We would be greater still, after such a thing. There is no better friendship than what we are capable of!
[ Honor?? Well, he is a god of war. Conflict and violence brew dangerous and dark within him, his needs unmet for a long time and now burning to be brought to bear against someone he calls 'friend'. Fighting is a form of communication, to him. AND HE DID SAY HE WASN'T A GREAT FRIEND.... maybe he should have said "normal friend".... ]
[ He wouldn't want to hurt you so badly if he actually liked you, one voice says. It's what he's made for, as a god of war, says another. Further fault lines draw themselves over the knowledge of his limitations, the total earnestness of Set's want, the understanding that he's being nothing if not honest, that he fully believes it'll make them closer. And he gets it β sort of. It's the most concrete kind of proof that they're equals, matched with each other in a way that can be quantified.
(It occurs to him that he doesn't know the full extent of what Set can do, if it's even possible to kill a god. Granted, he doesn't linger on the latter for too long. Anything can be killed if you take it apart enough, even him. Maybe that's a little dramatic, when it's not like they've said this is a fight to the death, but it's always a possibility, when violence is involved.) ]
You know I can only go all-out for so long, [ he says, after a long pause. ] That okay with you?
He was made for loneliness, created by the world to be an Atlas of divine proportions, tasked with the duty of ensuring that ma'at had meaning; that order could exist, because there was chaos and discord to be triumphed over, controlled and suppressed by dutiful adherence to proscribed ideals. Powerful, lethal, undeniably beautiful in his ferality, was it any wonder he sought similar souls as he? Individuals who were the pinnacle of strength and talent, among whom Homelander appeared to be. After all, Set knows that Maeve escaped his vengeance, and doesn't all that anger and passion still need an outlet? Need acknowledging? ]
Will you give it your all, when it happens?
[ Provided that Homelander puts his heart and soul into the fight, it doesn't matter if it is a short or long one. He judges people based on their conviction, not their longevity. ]
If so, I would be satisfied. Win or lose, you would make me quite content. I am a man, after all β violence is an integral part of my soul. Inflicting it, witnessing it, experiencing it... the degree to which is less important than the love for it.
[ It's the same divide they'd butted up against before, isn't it β mutual acknowledgment of loneliness as a necessary condition of their respective existences but a fundamental gap between their takes on it. Set sees himself as having been given a prescribed role; Homelander rails against the idea of having no choice, of being a villain. Underneath it all, it makes him sad. It's not fair to be made the bad guy for having wanted a different life, is it? For wanting what he's owed? And it's not fair to Set, either, let alone his kid. Either of their kids. ]
I'll give it my all.
[ His jaw tenses, so sharp that it might cut glass. He knows what he is β a tool molded for a single use, the same divine purpose that Set cites, now.
(Would he have been like him, if he let Vought keep holding his chain?) ]
And I'll fucking win.
[ With that, he checks Set's shoulder, pushing past him and striding down the hall, out of sight as soon as he rounds the corner. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Not very good at being friends with others, I admit. It is not any fault of yours.
Where are you now?
no subject
in the yard.
lawn
whatever
no subject
β do you know that you are the only person I have told about my son? My greatest vulnerability and joy, and I gave that knowledge to you.
[ he doesn't even hesitate, in snappishly declaring it to homelander's face. he knows he's not a good friend, but neither had he ever really claimed to be one. honestly, he's a private person! ]
As a father yourself, I thought you would understand the importance I place in sharing that identity with you.
no subject
It's not like I'm throwing Ryan's name around everywhere, either, [ he says, automatically defensive. It sounds pathetic, even to him, but it's the only thing he can muster, every other thought β that he considers Set a true friend, that he's never really had friends before β much too vulnerable to share out loud, his hesitation as much a product of lifelong loneliness as the bitten-back truths themselves. ]
What does that have to do with anything, anyway? You get gay married to a ginger and I'm supposed to, what, donate to your bridal registry?
no subject
[ He sounds aghast at Homelander NOT understanding why he's lead with a reminder that he told the man about the most important thing in his entire life; far more important than being fae-hitched to "a ginger"!! For one, Shanks isn't really a ginger. He's about as red of hair as Set is, which is wild to think of for him. Normally, that shade of red is attributed to him alone, iconic and immutable from his godhood. For another, he doesn't really feel all that territorial about their relationship: it is what it is, and have come to a mutual conclusion that it's a difficult thing to understand.
It messed up Shanks's relationship with the little pirate crew, after all. Is it any wonder Set might be slightly concerned ( and rightfully so! ) that the same could happen to his own cultivated ones? He would survive losing them, but so rapidly on the heels of Matt? Someone he trusted to the same degree as Homelander, but would speak of Certain Matters to that he wouldn't with the other? It's ridiculous behavior! So, he advances on the man a little further, reaching out to slip his hands around Homelander's and grasp it tightly. Rooting them in place for the moment. Bold as anything, in the way that he always seizes someone's person ( but hates the reciprocal ). ]
I never would ask of you to do that. Nor do I feel poorly that you do not tell me of your relationships.
[ what the fuck is a bridal registry ]
If you want to, you will. If it happens, I will be interested. I just... do not value your friendship for the things you do not share. Whether by choice, or because you have not been given the opportunity to speak of them.
no subject
He thinks, again, of what Shanks had said. He needs friends like you. And now, the idea of the value of friendship β what does he even have to compare it to? Not Maeve, who'd been forced into a partnership with him, who'd grown to hate him as soon as she'd really gotten to know him. Not Black Noir, even, who's always been there but never said a word. As for the others he's met here, Pierce doesn't demand this of him (or hasn't, yet), and his fondness for Aemond is unavoidably colored by his devotion to Alicent, in itself a different kind of care.
He doesn't have anything to draw from that isn't idealized, somehow. Isn't that what friendship should be? Total and complete trust, all things shared. Because he looks at Set and thinks, I want to tell you. ]
You already know, [ he says, uncertainty audible in his voice. ] You know I was there, during Werewolf. When you talked to Alicent. I was there for her.
[ And maybe that's not the point, but the next thing he says isn't, either: ]
Seriously, though? That guy?
no subject
[ It would be understandable, if Homelander had chosen to stand with Alicent against him, for that reason. Yet, they had remained close β as close as brutal men like them could be β even with that between them. Perhaps that is why he doesn't relinquish his hold on Homelander's hand; the tension is unknowable to him, it could be for any number of reasons and Set is abysmal at reading others and their emotions. Their finely-held thoughts.
He just knows contact is control, in some ways. Badly as he aches to fight Homelander for the thrill, maybe doing so because he's upset would tarnish the fragile bond. And then he laughs, bold and brassy as he throws his head back β that guy???. ]
Do you think someone here is better for me? My, you are opinionated. [ There's a faint fondness in his tone, as finally he lets go of Homelander's hand. ]
He is considerate, for a man. I feel like more than a weapon, around him.
no subject
He gets it. Gets what it is to not feel like a weapon, to feel like something other than a mantle. It's why he cares about Alicent the way he does; she makes him feelβ not normal, that most awful of all things, but seen. Understood, as impossible as that may be. (Maybe it's a lie he tells himself, one he doesn't know better than to know isn't true, but while it lastsβ)
And he knows that Set would know that better than most. ]
You threaten her again, I'll kill you myself.
[ That, at least, he knows how to say. Easier than I know what you mean. And then, easier than trying to push forward: ] Forget it. It'sβ [ he waves a hand, starting to turn to leave ] βfine.
no subject
[ It's declared with the same elevated, strange mentality of someone above-human. Who can care for others ( clearly! ), but also not everyone. Alicent is someone he respects, but has no consideration for. Just because Homelander likes her is not enough reason for Set to extend anything to her.
Heedless of the equal dangers that Homelander possesses, the sheer brutality and precision of his mind, Set seems far more happy to hear such a vow made before him; it's a simmering undercurrent of violence, the promise of battle, and with someone he CLEARLY likes, that's a cocktail waiting to be mixed up and set before him. A temptation he would never be able to resist. He's quick to shift his form, rolling across Homelander's ankles as soft, sun-heated sands before reforming before him. At his front again, eyes bright and delighted. ]
β but, I welcome your own promise of violence. One day, we may even find ourselves competing, instead of cooperating!
no subject
Maybe it's a sort of Highlander situation, he thinks. There can only be one, applied to the idea of godhood. And it's less that he wants that than that he's learned it to be his given right in life, to be the most powerful man on Earth, to be able to act with total impunity because no one could match him. But it competes with what he wants, with the loneliness he's carried since boyhood.
(Maybe the catching point is that he's not a god. Set was made to war, made to complete, whereas Homelander, at the end of the day, splinters into a million human fragments. Pathetic, vulnerable, needy.)
Set's transformation, at least, serves as a distraction, a quick, ] Jesus, fuck, [ leaving Homelander's mouth as he steps back β to little effect β frown only growing deeper as he watches Set's shape reform. ]
Yeah, that'll be the day.
[ And if it doesn't sound like he relishes the idea, it's because he doesn't β the kinds of fights he likes are the ones he knows he can win. ]
If you want a fight, just ask me for it. Leave her out of it.
no subject
Would you? Really? You would lay hand upon me, and let me test your mettle?
[ There's a fever in his breathless words, and were he less of a man, he might clasp his hands together before himself β pleading with the energy of a giddy schoolgirl awaiting the answer to a love letter shoved in her crush's locker. ]
I have worked alongside you. Witnessed your strength and brutality. I could think of no greater honor than to challenge you, and be challenged by you. We would be greater still, after such a thing. There is no better friendship than what we are capable of!
[ Honor?? Well, he is a god of war. Conflict and violence brew dangerous and dark within him, his needs unmet for a long time and now burning to be brought to bear against someone he calls 'friend'. Fighting is a form of communication, to him. AND HE DID SAY HE WASN'T A GREAT FRIEND.... maybe he should have said "normal friend".... ]
no subject
(It occurs to him that he doesn't know the full extent of what Set can do, if it's even possible to kill a god. Granted, he doesn't linger on the latter for too long. Anything can be killed if you take it apart enough, even him. Maybe that's a little dramatic, when it's not like they've said this is a fight to the death, but it's always a possibility, when violence is involved.) ]
You know I can only go all-out for so long, [ he says, after a long pause. ] That okay with you?
no subject
He was made for loneliness, created by the world to be an Atlas of divine proportions, tasked with the duty of ensuring that ma'at had meaning; that order could exist, because there was chaos and discord to be triumphed over, controlled and suppressed by dutiful adherence to proscribed ideals. Powerful, lethal, undeniably beautiful in his ferality, was it any wonder he sought similar souls as he? Individuals who were the pinnacle of strength and talent, among whom Homelander appeared to be. After all, Set knows that Maeve escaped his vengeance, and doesn't all that anger and passion still need an outlet? Need acknowledging? ]
Will you give it your all, when it happens?
[ Provided that Homelander puts his heart and soul into the fight, it doesn't matter if it is a short or long one. He judges people based on their conviction, not their longevity. ]
If so, I would be satisfied. Win or lose, you would make me quite content. I am a man, after all β violence is an integral part of my soul. Inflicting it, witnessing it, experiencing it... the degree to which is less important than the love for it.
π
I'll give it my all.
[ His jaw tenses, so sharp that it might cut glass. He knows what he is β a tool molded for a single use, the same divine purpose that Set cites, now.
(Would he have been like him, if he let Vought keep holding his chain?) ]
And I'll fucking win.
[ With that, he checks Set's shoulder, pushing past him and striding down the hall, out of sight as soon as he rounds the corner. ]