I am practicing with the voice-to-text-to-voice function on the phone. Or Shanks reads everything to me, as he will not even let me piss in peace. But, still.
[ His poor, traumatized husband... Moments later, the call will come through to Roza; Set's voice is a rich thing, softly lisping ( due to the scar on his tongue ) but undeniably accented with a musical, foreign lilt. Something Arabic in nature, but far, far older. A tongue long dead by the time they inhabit now. ]
It was beautiful work, Roza. I do not mind bearing proof of your labors until the game's conclusion, when I regain all my power. It feels close to the true structure of the soul, anyways — how you reunited khet, ba and ka without the language I would have. The similarities and differences of others people always fascinated me; their culture, their views, their language... I would enjoy talking with you about your magic, one day.
[ Even though he's in magic chat, he doesn't technically have much of it. Not like his sister. ]
Keep your eye upon me, Roza. Now that I am back, you will see how fun I make these events!
[ Unseen: her little wisp of a smile. The anecdote affirms her choice, Roza thinks. Returning people to their loved ones is the only highlight of this game-given power. ]
I'm really glad it isn't disruptive for you. The spirit is where my magic lies, mainly — I used to just call it all workings, instead of magic.
[ Roza's own voice has the unremarkable American accent known to the Pacific Northwest, indistinguishable from many other US-based ones, but its color is a moderate mezzo soprano, with an intermittently breathy starlet quality; the downside to this is she loses its sound if she attempts to raise it further than a certain volume. Many years ago she was like any other shouting, unruly child, but the person who gave her that power is gone, and took the screaming with her.
But here the radio-pleasant evenness is better-suited, anyway. ]
Once I have it back, I'll show you a little more. I come out of my body, sort of, and walk around like a spirit alone. [ Of all her skills, this is the one Roza misses the most, and the longing catches, briefly, on spirit alone, softening her consonants. ]
I plan to. But now I'm really curious about the next fun thing you plan to do, 'cause we haven't had much this entire game. [ Although it stands to reason Set's definition is particular to him. She is so intensely curious about his perspectives that she has to tamp down on the urge to ask a million questions, many of which are inappropriate maybe always, but especially now. ] Or are you not a fan of spoilers?
Your work with the spirit is very pretty! I feel quite good! I have held souls in my hands before, but without such precision — then again, I am not called upon to be a delicate weapon very often.
[ But, he is am ambush predator more often than not; war is not simply about a full frontal assault, or crushing might with greater might. It is the midnight release of pestilence, the poisoning of wells, the endless drone of an army playing horrible music in shifts while a besieged encampment quivers and decides whether or not to open their defenses and Just Get It Over With. It's laying a trap for a wolf, not knowing if he will be alive or not to reap the spoils.
It's victory, even if he is not there to immediately observe it — because all victory ( and loss ) belongs to him. ]
That sounds dangerous. While alive, a mortal's body and spirit ought to remain in the same place lest one, or both, be mistaken for experiencing an end! How do you find your way back? Do your gods not watch over that boundary? Naughty things.
[ Roza might resist the urge, but Set immediately begins asking his own questions; there's a natural, feverish curiosity to him: the same curiosity that drove him to foreign lands, foreign pantheons and their gods and people, to learn of them and befriend them and rival them. ]
No, I do not mind spoilers. I plan to rob everyone, is all. If I must.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
TEXT -> VOICE
[ His poor, traumatized husband... Moments later, the call will come through to Roza; Set's voice is a rich thing, softly lisping ( due to the scar on his tongue ) but undeniably accented with a musical, foreign lilt. Something Arabic in nature, but far, far older. A tongue long dead by the time they inhabit now. ]
It was beautiful work, Roza. I do not mind bearing proof of your labors until the game's conclusion, when I regain all my power. It feels close to the true structure of the soul, anyways — how you reunited khet, ba and ka without the language I would have. The similarities and differences of others people always fascinated me; their culture, their views, their language... I would enjoy talking with you about your magic, one day.
[ Even though he's in magic chat, he doesn't technically have much of it. Not like his sister. ]
Keep your eye upon me, Roza. Now that I am back, you will see how fun I make these events!
no subject
I'm really glad it isn't disruptive for you. The spirit is where my magic lies, mainly — I used to just call it all workings, instead of magic.
[ Roza's own voice has the unremarkable American accent known to the Pacific Northwest, indistinguishable from many other US-based ones, but its color is a moderate mezzo soprano, with an intermittently breathy starlet quality; the downside to this is she loses its sound if she attempts to raise it further than a certain volume. Many years ago she was like any other shouting, unruly child, but the person who gave her that power is gone, and took the screaming with her.
But here the radio-pleasant evenness is better-suited, anyway. ]
Once I have it back, I'll show you a little more. I come out of my body, sort of, and walk around like a spirit alone. [ Of all her skills, this is the one Roza misses the most, and the longing catches, briefly, on spirit alone, softening her consonants. ]
I plan to. But now I'm really curious about the next fun thing you plan to do, 'cause we haven't had much this entire game. [ Although it stands to reason Set's definition is particular to him. She is so intensely curious about his perspectives that she has to tamp down on the urge to ask a million questions, many of which are inappropriate maybe always, but especially now. ] Or are you not a fan of spoilers?
no subject
[ But, he is am ambush predator more often than not; war is not simply about a full frontal assault, or crushing might with greater might. It is the midnight release of pestilence, the poisoning of wells, the endless drone of an army playing horrible music in shifts while a besieged encampment quivers and decides whether or not to open their defenses and Just Get It Over With. It's laying a trap for a wolf, not knowing if he will be alive or not to reap the spoils.
It's victory, even if he is not there to immediately observe it — because all victory ( and loss ) belongs to him. ]
That sounds dangerous. While alive, a mortal's body and spirit ought to remain in the same place lest one, or both, be mistaken for experiencing an end! How do you find your way back? Do your gods not watch over that boundary? Naughty things.
[ Roza might resist the urge, but Set immediately begins asking his own questions; there's a natural, feverish curiosity to him: the same curiosity that drove him to foreign lands, foreign pantheons and their gods and people, to learn of them and befriend them and rival them. ]
No, I do not mind spoilers. I plan to rob everyone, is all. If I must.