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 — 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 — 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 — 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. ]
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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 — 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.
🎀
I'll give it my all.
[ His jaw tenses, so sharp that it might cut glass. He knows what he is — 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. ]