Is that where the other one went to, then? I will come by. Give me time to navigate.
[ He's left one of them with Shanks, rather than take it back. His ears are still sore where the scar marks their former removal, he'd rather not wear the weight of solid gold upon them before he attains his divinity again at game end.
Like he said, navigating is hard. He's near-sightless for now, and ends up muddy and sulky because of the stumbling around. Makes it to the cabin all the same. ]
Is Alicent here? [ With Homelander, safe. ] Jacerys had asked me to watch over her and his mother... some guardian I am.
[ As soon as Set appears at the door: ] Jesus, you should've told me to come to you.
[ In the moment after, Homelander's hands find Set's, guiding him into the cabin. He instantly has more questions — what Set remembers, if things still hurt, if he thinks the scars will be permanent — but there's something more pressing to take care of. ]
She's in her own cabin, [ he says, as he uses his fingers to open Set's palm, the weight of a gold earring placed in the center of the god's hand. ] I'm there most of the time.
Aw, would you have been a gentleman for me? Offered me your arm?
[ He teases brightly, fearlessly. As unbothered by the state of his body as he was when Homelander had cleaved his arm from his body with his eyes, brilliant and powerful and enticing. But, neither does he protest to be led inside the cabin, where the world is darker and the shadows harder to differentiate between. It's definitely a vulnerable spot for him, and the flare of his nostrils gives away how he tries to orient himself with his other senses. ]
I am glad you two are reunited. I knew I could not guarantee her safety for you alone, but being able to trade off the effort in reviving you was a delightful gamble! [ He holds the weight of his earring in his hand, before holding it up to dangle. Is he okay?
( No. ) ] Of course! This is not the first time I have died. Not even the second, or seventh, or one thousandth!
[ Said without hesitation — like it's obvious, because maybe it is.
But he doesn't argue any further, instead watching the way Set's features shift as he adjusts to the space, as he adjusts to being alive again. He remembers all too clearly what it'd been like the first time he'd been brought back, lurching out of a coffin, his head spinning, the world both too much and not enough at the same time. ]
Yeah, well. I've only done it twice, and it sucked both times.
[ His frown is a lethal thing, all full mouth and furrowed brow. A bit more like a pout, than anything. Like he regrets not having Homelander come and do just that. ]
You know I cannot reshape my body in this place.
[ As if having been dead and gone, or being able to take on the curves and softness of a woman's form are the things he needs to offer up to receive that arm. It's the first he's really acknowledged that afternoon in the forest, after Ryan broke his father's heart. ]
— when I found it was you who fell, all I cared about was getting you back. When I told Armand that I did not care who was a wolf, I meant it. For a while, I wanted to catch the wolf that killed you. Now, having you back... do you want that of me? To capture and present your killer to you?
[ Like a feral cat, bringing him a bloodied gift. ]
[ Set frowns, and Homelander frowns back, though his expression reads a little more of confusion than anything else, like he's not sure, in this moment, why the form Set takes would matter to him. It shifts as Set continues to speak, asks him to consider a question that he isn't sure how to answer. ]
You brought me back, [ he says — first and most important. ]
So we can play the game together.
[ Which isn't to say that he doesn't want revenge or that he doesn't want to know, but— ]
[ He laughs, faint and breathless: to play the game together.
Well, isn't that something.
Most relationships, he's found, are transactional at their core; what-can-you-do-for-me and what-can-i-do-for-you are foundational among gods and humans, generals and soldiers, merchants and buyers, even a foreign entity visiting distant lands to learn and grow and explore. The lessons he had learned, painfully and violently were that to be worth being loved, one must be strong. To have friends, one must conquer the other and impress upon them hierarchy. And then, there is Homelander. A man he found equal in. Equal anger, equal desire, equal meaning in his strength. ]
Yes, I would have been far too unhappy, to enjoy myself. Now, I can play freely.
[ It takes a few taps of his foot to ensure nothing is directly in his way, before he grips the hand he still holds and swings himself in for a strong-armed hug around Homelander's shoulders. A warmth and relief in his sigh. ]
What else are friends for, Homelander, than to see things through together?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
And to you, dear friend. It is good to see you alive.
Are you already engaged in anything? Might I take a moment with you?
no subject
i'm in my cabin, if you want to come by. i have to give you your earring back, anyhow.
no subject
I will come by. Give me time to navigate.
[ He's left one of them with Shanks, rather than take it back. His ears are still sore where the scar marks their former removal, he'd rather not wear the weight of solid gold upon them before he attains his divinity again at game end.
Like he said, navigating is hard. He's near-sightless for now, and ends up muddy and sulky because of the stumbling around. Makes it to the cabin all the same. ]
Is Alicent here? [ With Homelander, safe. ] Jacerys had asked me to watch over her and his mother... some guardian I am.
[ PETULANTLY ]
no subject
[ In the moment after, Homelander's hands find Set's, guiding him into the cabin. He instantly has more questions — what Set remembers, if things still hurt, if he thinks the scars will be permanent — but there's something more pressing to take care of. ]
She's in her own cabin, [ he says, as he uses his fingers to open Set's palm, the weight of a gold earring placed in the center of the god's hand. ] I'm there most of the time.
—You okay?
no subject
[ He teases brightly, fearlessly. As unbothered by the state of his body as he was when Homelander had cleaved his arm from his body with his eyes, brilliant and powerful and enticing. But, neither does he protest to be led inside the cabin, where the world is darker and the shadows harder to differentiate between. It's definitely a vulnerable spot for him, and the flare of his nostrils gives away how he tries to orient himself with his other senses. ]
I am glad you two are reunited. I knew I could not guarantee her safety for you alone, but being able to trade off the effort in reviving you was a delightful gamble! [ He holds the weight of his earring in his hand, before holding it up to dangle. Is he okay?
( No. ) ] Of course! This is not the first time I have died. Not even the second, or seventh, or one thousandth!
no subject
[ Said without hesitation — like it's obvious, because maybe it is.
But he doesn't argue any further, instead watching the way Set's features shift as he adjusts to the space, as he adjusts to being alive again. He remembers all too clearly what it'd been like the first time he'd been brought back, lurching out of a coffin, his head spinning, the world both too much and not enough at the same time. ]
Yeah, well. I've only done it twice, and it sucked both times.
no subject
You know I cannot reshape my body in this place.
[ As if having been dead and gone, or being able to take on the curves and softness of a woman's form are the things he needs to offer up to receive that arm. It's the first he's really acknowledged that afternoon in the forest, after Ryan broke his father's heart. ]
— when I found it was you who fell, all I cared about was getting you back. When I told Armand that I did not care who was a wolf, I meant it. For a while, I wanted to catch the wolf that killed you. Now, having you back... do you want that of me? To capture and present your killer to you?
[ Like a feral cat, bringing him a bloodied gift. ]
no subject
You brought me back, [ he says — first and most important. ]
So we can play the game together.
[ Which isn't to say that he doesn't want revenge or that he doesn't want to know, but— ]
That's what matters to me.
no subject
Well, isn't that something.
Most relationships, he's found, are transactional at their core; what-can-you-do-for-me and what-can-i-do-for-you are foundational among gods and humans, generals and soldiers, merchants and buyers, even a foreign entity visiting distant lands to learn and grow and explore. The lessons he had learned, painfully and violently were that to be worth being loved, one must be strong. To have friends, one must conquer the other and impress upon them hierarchy. And then, there is Homelander. A man he found equal in. Equal anger, equal desire, equal meaning in his strength. ]
Yes, I would have been far too unhappy, to enjoy myself. Now, I can play freely.
[ It takes a few taps of his foot to ensure nothing is directly in his way, before he grips the hand he still holds and swings himself in for a strong-armed hug around Homelander's shoulders. A warmth and relief in his sigh. ]
What else are friends for, Homelander, than to see things through together?