synflux | [ PERMANENT ] i only have two real friends

[ Unfortunately, he only knows of the Geto-Gojo-Toki animosity, and only in shallow passing. The hostility between sorcerers ( Geto, Gojo ) and their natural predator ( Toji ) seems a natural thing, to him, and so he's never really questioned it. And he knows that Gojo is a teacher, by now. That some of his little students are among the Outsiders, but he figures anyone who claims the position of "teacher" and touts himself among the powerhouses ought to be plenty capable of watching over his own.

Which means he has absolutely no clue about anything that's been going on in Gojo's neck of the woods, and is instead chasing around after him with the cheeriness of an annoying cat that's found a lap it wants to sit in ( read: someone he wants to be around, because it's Fun ).

Heedless of how Seoul turned out, and how LILITH is inclined to attempt to ensure that the Outsiders not become hostile to it while making every imaginable decision that could accomplish that, Set's in a perfectly fine mood. He knows of the sheer power of the kaiju now, he has seen many of his companions in battle — Brimstone and Revelation, namely, the naughty little things! — and simply wishes to visit Gojo and

well

who the fuck knows what he wants with this guy ]

— hey, hey!

[ So, he finds Gojo in the halls. And probably puts his foot right in it. ]

Want to get something to drink together? I'm tired of going over the same boring business about choices and kaiju and death, I want to have fun and my cover identity could use the company of a pretty face!

[ although gojo has come to terms with the disappearance of both nobara and megumi, their departure home has been an unpleasant reminder of this world's impermanence for any of them and, to put it simply, it has really put a damper on his mood. it was nice to pretend like everything was fine and great for the past half year, but the chipper façade he was upholding for the sake of his students is no longer needed. after all, yuji and maki are already aware of his death.

yuji once told gojo that he could make neo tokyo his new home, but it only brought into question what is awaiting him if LILITH ever decides that his service is no longer required. she may have given him both geto and nanami back, but she could just as easily take them away.

gojo satoru, once deemed the strongest sorcerer of his world, does not like how that notion makes him feel.

sooner or later, he will bounce back — if not for his own sake, then at least for his remaining students. however, for the time being, he just isn't in a social mood. so when a certain redhead comes bounding towards him with an enthusiasm he doesn't care to meet, he simply brushes him off. ]

I don't drink. Find someone else.

[ The refusal doesn't make him falter, as Set slips into lock-step with Gojo in the hall. His hands laced behind his back, wearing those casual grey sweats that LILITH had put all new arrivals in as if he actually enjoys them ( he does, they're soft and roomy and keep him warm when the base starts to feel too much like a cold prison ). A cigarette, unlit, sits behind one ear — probably stolen off of Tezcatlipoca, if not taken directly from the other god's room. Gojo's lucky Set hasn't tried to get to him THERE, yet..... stray cat behavior. ]

You do not have to match me. If you want tea, I would buy it for you.

[ Come on Satoru, he's offering to pay! ]

Are you not having an enjoyable time anymore? You, Gojo?

[ That might be surprising, since the guy seems basically infallable when it comes to his nigh-hedonistic approach to the world around them. ]

I want to hang out with you. Maybe I can make you feel better.

[ he's just going to tag along, hm?

well, it's probably somewhat promising that gojo hasn't told him to fuck off yet. but it doesn't mean that he's inclined to hit the town with him either. set might think he can make him feel better, but what's bothering him isn't something that a god can resolve — at least not one who's also trapped here. ]

You can't. [ not in any meaningful way. ] I don't think you have much to offer.

[ they ventured up into the mountains and fished together one time...... ]

[ teach a man to fish........... and he's your new bestie

Except Set probably doesn't think of Gojo as a friend, nor an enemy. He's in that nebulous idk what this guy is about space that makes the war god deeply invested in solving a puzzle and getting to see what the final image is. He doesn't have a box to reference for Gojo, nor a real understanding about what drives him. He's strong, but has no further ambition? He's not having a great time, but there's nothing that can be done?

And he's rude. But like, in the kind of way that makes Set wonder what he's hiding. Is he even hiding anything? ]

So, it is something beyond my current power to help you with. [ Because Set KNOWS he can do a metric fuck ton for people. Not miracles, but like. He's a hard worker. It's that sadboy dutifulness that landed him on Revelation, after all. ] Can I distract you from it?

[ don't try to solve this puzzle, set. it'll only end in a migraine.

gojo isn't opposed to the idea of company. company is better than being left to his own thoughts (even though that's arguably what he needs right now). but as tempting as the offer is, he can't help but feel a little surprised by it — mostly because of who it is.

for someone who claims to hate all men, the god sure lacks a certain degree of awareness. ]

You can buy me boba. [ oh, well. on a better day, maybe he would have gotten into it with him. ] Otherwise, no.

( FROM HERE. )

[ He goes to Tezcatlipoca, as promised.

Dressed in the horrible grey sweats provided by LILITH, he's set his golden jewelry aside and come bare-limbed, his throat long and pale and almost taunting in its unadorned state. No shoes, though. Set might as well be allergic to them. He slips up behind Tezcatlipoca, placing his chin upon the other god's shoulder to peer over him at his work. ]

— I've just remembered you may not be cooking your lunch.

[ Isn't Tezkitty on a raw diet..... ]

[ Tezcatlipoca is dressed much the same, save for the fact that it’s not the LILITH provided sweats. It may still be joggers and a loose, sleeveless shirt, with his hair pulled up into a ponytail, but it’s still more stylish than the standard. He’s a god that loves the modern era, after all, so he’d very much enjoyed that style upgrade.

He glances back as Set enters, then chuckles as he immediately, predictably clings to him. At least Tezcatlipoca doesn’t flinch from it anymore… But, luckily, despite Set’s worries, there’s no meat in sight. He’s actually working on kneading a pale-yellow dough. ]

Well, luckily for your delicate stomach, [ you’re one to talk tezca ] the meat they get here is usually shit. Tastes weird when it’s raw. Dunno if it’s because it’s preserved or had some weird process done on it or what, but I’ve been cookin’ it so you can hide the taste… But if I’m goin’ through all that trouble, I’m makin’ tortillas too.

[ Set will probably recognize the accent on “tortillas” as well, considering how much Spanish Quetzalcoatl peppered into her speech. Tezcatlipoca is more inclined to stick to the lingua franca, but that’s part of his “heritage” too. ]

You should at least try one of ‘em when they’re done. Just corn, water, and salt, so they’re no problem.

[ Oh, dough. That's better than meat. Way better!

The tension in his arms melts away, as he rocks his weight further against Tezcatlipoca's spine, to better peer over his shoulder while watching him work. It really does seem like an affectionate grip, but ironically, it's the same one he'd used back in Kenos to suplex his fellow god and snap his spine — dissipating him mere moments after his first arrival. In this world, the weight of death is much, much greater. And so, Set is far more respectful of potentially sending Tezcatlipoca back to the root of the world, thus robbing him ( ugh and ig humanity.......... ) of a capable warrior.

Plus, Tezca is easier to get along with and does Set-translation services nicely. Thanks aniki! ]

Mmm, [ he still grumbles uncomfortably at the thought of food, in general. Meat is at the height of things he doesn't desire, but food as a whole is — it's a difficult subject. It's why he admits, a little liberally, to his shame. ]

I do not like the feeling of food moving within me. It feels... foreign and invasive. Liem used to make me food in the form of liquids. Protein and fruit shakes, because we both had an aversion. [ Liem's was a little more of a sensitivity, though. No wonder Set was so deeply fond of the priest, considering their similar troubles. ]

I'll... try it, though. This is a food of your land, right?

Edited 2024-10-09 20:14 (UTC)

[ Yeah, this position is familiar… If this were still Kenos, Tezcatlipoca would probably feel a little more uncertain about Set clinging to him like this, since there very well could be a spine snapping in his future just for the hell of it. But. He at least has reasonable confidence that Set wouldn’t be that impulsive here.

…Not 100%, but pretty high.

He keeps kneading the dough, but it’s almost done at this point, so without dislodging Set, he reaches over with one hand to turn on the stove and oil up the flattest pan he could find. ]

Oh, yeah?

[ He glances to Set with a little surprise as he admits why he doesn’t like food, but it’s followed with a mild “huh” of understanding. Well, a bit of an assumption, really, but considering Set’s attitude towards humanity, he doesn’t imagine he’d be keen to go linger among them quietly like Tezcatlipoca is. ]

—Guess that is weird if you’re not used to it, now that you mention it. I’ll keep that in mind. I find the stuff for it, I’ll make you xocolatl. You’d at least dig that, since it’s the beverage warriors would drink to fortify themselves before battle.

[ Taste-wise… He’s not sure. He loves it, but the only person he’s had try it in the modern era was Daybit, and that guy’s tastes can’t be trusted… But, anyways. ]

Yeah, they are. Kinda the iconic one, honestly. You think of our lands, it’s probably the first thing that comes to mind in the modern day. And you don’t like it, won’t hurt my feelings. Cooking’s just something practical I picked up. Not much stake in it for me.

Set.

Set. Where are you?

Edited 2024-11-01 00:49 (UTC)

On my way to the roof, like you asked!

Bad news. I need to know where you're at right now.

Great news! I am nearly to the roof!

[ man he's flipping out help ]

I'm going to the roof. Tell me when you're on your way. I assume you'll know soon enough if you haven't already.

I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE REFERRING TO. I AM SO EXCITED. I AM ON THE ROOF NO

[ he is also flipping out (positive) and immediately running to silco, bright eyed and sharp toothed ]

[ He's already smoking on a cigar, puffing away at it like it's a lifeline. He may be a vampire right now, but thankfully, that doesn't seem to affect his ability to smoke.

He looks a lot less excited, and a lot more anxious. ]

What do you mean you're excited? [ A hiss of frustration, smoke curling out his mouth. ] He's already playing games.

[ Merciless in his casual attitude towards Silco, Set finds it easy to slip into the man's space and wrap a hand around his. To give it a squeeze and draw it to his chest, like Silco might feel the fluttering of his own excited heart. ]

Well, yes! It is in his nature to. We played all sorts of games in Kenos together, many that nobody was even aware of.

[ not those kinds of games set ]

[ He senses his heart as much as he can feel it, senses attuned to the rush of blood, just like when he had been a vampire before. He looks the same, too, that same slightly paler look to his skin, the way his eye just looks faintly redder than before. After getting back from their...ordeal, Silco looked rough, the injury on his thigh from Tezca's axe to the bites and bruising on his neck. He'd clearly had makeup on, but it's streaked and running over his eye, like he had ran a hand across it, smearing and smudging it.

He held Set's hand, his grip tight, agitated. ]

Yes, yes, of course you did. But he is playing them now! [ His hands move in agitation, but he does not let go ]

Playing at not knowing me. Me! Pretending to be some innocent butler! He wouldn't even admit it!

[ Sebastian haunts his nightmares, and now he doesn't have the decency to even admit it? ]

[ Before they had arrived in Neo Tokyo, he had allowed Silco the honor of feeding from him — for the man had sought power in many ways, including the transformation of his own body for such a purpose. Living in a city of perpetual night and the underground meant he didn't have to worry about the innate sun-sensitivity, at least until the entire world was geographically upended. He'd let Silco dine again upon divine blood, because ensuring his now-teammate's strength lasted was of importance ( rather than what he wanted to stifle and crush ). ]

Sebastian does not lie, you know. It would be gauche of him, but it is also not in his nature. Truth is more sadistic, after all.

[ Idly, he tugs a scrap of cloth from nearby supplies, mopping at Silco's makeup until the ugly scars begin to become more and more clear. ]

Did you ask him a direct question, Silco? "Do you remember Kenos?" works quite well.

He already said he doesn't know who I am.

[ It's derisive, and a little biting, the way he says it, but he says it all the same. ] Rather direct.

[ He doesn't fight Set off, and perhaps it says a lot that he allows the god to fuss over his face. It's already streaked from a combination of rain and the sweaty stress from avoiding and finally encountering the demon. It cleans off easily enough, but then it's just that ugly, fetid scar exposed to the open air. His lips twitch in slight discomfort, but he doesn't say anything. ]

It can't be that straightforward, Set. He can't arrive after us and know nothing.

[ Because it just can't happen like that, then it seems so senseless. (For Him! Personally!) ]

He has to have a way to talk around it that I'm not seeing.

[ It can't be that easy! ]

[ He's never minded the sight of Silco's ruined face. In fact, some part of him prefers it — has always preferred it, ever since the day that the man had explained what had happened to him. Vander. The water. The drowning. The ruination and constant pain he was in, the need to drug himself to combat the pain. That Silco has a visible mark of the betrayal he had suffered, to Set, is enviable. Nobody could look at him, not even moments after he'd been dragged through the soul-rending abyss of Osiris's "love", and see him for the pain he'd gone through.

Nobody would have believed him, so he is relieved, in a way, that Silco has proof he can point to. A scar he can show off when he says: Vander is not who you think he is. ( Even if Silco is insane and hateful and yes, WRONG. <3 ) ]

He does not know me, either. Believe me, when I say that if he did — he would have come to me, first. Instead, I had to lure him in.

[ To re-establish their connection, which feels so similar, even if it is not and never will be. Sebastian is different to the Sebastian he knew, he forged such a deadly and unique bond with. But, it is no less fun. One day, he will even find "his" Sebastian again. Memories intact. ]

— I think you are more upset that he gets off "scott free" for nearly devouring your soul.

I'm upset that he is pretending that nothing happened!

[ If there is one thing Silco fears, actually fears, it is being inconsequential. Meaningless. The fact that there was so little impact from him, that his efforts could be simply forgotten. Every action, every sacrifice, every minute of all of this pain and betrayal; for it to mean nothing is the worst fate of all. Is that playing into Sebastian's hands? Yes. Of course it is! He knows he is! He can see it as much as he can see when Jinx is about to combust, and he still has to say something to redirect her, knowing she will likely explode at him.

He reached up, and ran his fingers through his hair, putting it all right back into place, just like always. Like he was erecting that veneer, just like he did with his scar. ]

He was already getting off with no consequences! It's the fact that now he wants to pretend it never happened.

[ Did that drive him worse? Yes, always. He doesn't say it, but he thinks Set would understand, what it is, to have something that happened to him not be believed. Vander had achieved prominence for what he did to Silco, but he had respected him — up until a point. Even now, he respected Sebastian's power, in the same way he did Set's. Something that was mighty, and sinister, his was just wrapped up in a cloak of niceties, whereas Set's and Silco's were brazen and for the world to see. Wearing their scars like armor. Maybe that's why they had always been drawn together, the same, even if the connection between them has lapsed and frayed, their souls unique and so different once again. ]

Does it not incense you? That he is... supposedly ignorant? Of everything?

[ dw silco you definitely haunt the narrative forever ]

To him, nothing did happen. It is not pretending so. There are no experiences he lived, that we all shared.

[ Which, to Set, is saddening. Liberating, but also deeply saddening. In the strangest, most inhuman of ways, Sebastian meant a lot to him. He could never and would never forget the dangers of the demon, his appetites and dominance-driven sadism and the brilliance of his mind, the patience he had in perfecting his craft. That Set had never been on the receiving end of it ( minus the #Ward after fucking around in his house so many times ) did not mean that he did not observe what could have happened. ]

Imagine... time is a line. It is not, but imagine it.

[ At least, it's not a line to him. He even takes up one of Silco's hands, to draw his finger across one of the lines in his narrow palm; he taps a point on it. His explanation of time and alternatives is warped and flawed, because it's very hard for him to explain linear time as if it were not all happening and had happened. "A Sebastian" and "B Sebastian", to him, feel unnatural as a descriptor. It would be like saying there was "A Silco" and "B Silco", when he would only ever see one. He gives it a try though, for Silco's benefit. ]

You were taken from a moment in time, and that is the "point" from which you begin. Sebastian arrived in a similar fashion. We lived lives together, you and he, he and I, we three. And we continued on, from the end of our end. He, however, stopped there. The "Sebastian" we knew... did not leave Kenos, like us. Instead, the Sebastian that originally was taken from a moment in time, came here.

[ A reset. ]

— I can understand that he does not know anything about what happened. I do also feel bereft and angry, to have lost so much we shared. And I feel that for you, to look upon a face that had nearly killed you and see no "recollection". I still remember. I was to mourn you, after all.

[ Because Silco had mattered to him. Maybe it's why he swoops down, with that dark affection of his, to tidy a few more strands of hair and clean the rest of his ruined face up. Best to start fresh, and ironically, Set could probably apply it just as well! ]

I guess... I like that I get to play with him in a different way? He's still Sebastian. I just know more about him than he does about me, so I can challenge him in new ways.

[ Silco is no god, no theoretical physicist, or a genius. This sort of thing sounds like it's from one of those books he read with Jinx so many years ago, when she was still so young, and clinging to anything that sounded like a semblance of normalcy. By the time Silco was in her life, she was too-scarred to sleep well, and she'd demanded constant attention.

He at least understood, perhaps because Set's explanation is simple enough, or because they have both seen times when people arrive, leave, and forget. It's not unheard of.

It's that it's Sebastian. ]

What if we're wrong?

[ He hissed. His hand moved to hold Set's, touch his wrist and then tighten against it.

He trusts Set, in his own way. He is a god, unknowable and so far and away from him, and it felt like they were further apart than ever just because they had nearly been one, at one point. He had felt the way his soul tugged in odd ways, trying to reshape itself, trying to make itself fit into a box that was far too big for what he could have ever been. Stretching like it was trying to fill it, and the cracks were getting filled in with things that were not him.

Now he felt small, and human again. Insignificant. Just like he'd said to Set. ]

How do you know? You know how crafty he is, how far he will go to deceive. The moment I believe that he is not the same, is the moment he uses something that he should not know, and —

[ He'll — ]

He'll try to kill me again. I can't let him gain an inch.

[ Set waits, long after Christmas has faded into a memory, before he approaches Tezcatlipoca regarding the gift he'd left; they've had time together between the two events ( the holiday, and Set's acknowledgement of it ), but never did he bring it up. What he'd said about the holiday belonging to the conquerors who had killed the Azteca had resonated so deeply with his own fears, the lingering mournfulness he felt towards Quetzalcoatl — the duty he had to ensure her people, her companions, were told of her.

He waits, for a long time, before invading Tezcatlipoca's space one evening while he works at his shady bar job. And naturally, he buries the lede behind mania and sharp-toothed smile.

With him, he wears both the necklace gifted to him, and the purse as well. It's soft and cute, and with Set clad in a chunky-knit sweater and sleek, rosewood-toned pants, both items stand out quite well against the ensemble. Entirely coordinated, but genuinely presented, Set spins his way into a space alongside the bar and calls out: ] Daaaaavid!

[ In his own heavily-accented tongue, it comes out a little more like Day-fid. Close, but not quite. Perhaps Set's picked up on That?

Bright-eyed and beaming, he makes demands easily of his fellow divinity; his respected and elder brother, across oceanic and pantheon divide. ]

Go on break! Come outside and smoke with me. I have something for you that is not good to give in polite company.

Edited 2025-01-13 10:45 (UTC)

[ It’s another typical day at the bar, no different from any other. Tezcatlipoca has his regulars, has new people that drift in to see a rather infamous dive, and they’re all given the same toothy grin. People might not know that the bartender is much more than he seems, but he still retains a certain magnetism that’s subtle. Such is the power of a god, even if they’re very much in human form.

He’s chatting casually with someone at the bar when Set loudly comes in, and at first, Tezcatlipoca’s expression falls in the way that any older brother’s would at their sibling bursting into their workplace, but. It doesn’t last when he sees the necklace and the purse. He breathes out a quiet note of a laugh, and no one can hear that it’s fond. ]

You think I can just go on break whenever? Unlike you, I’ve got a real job.

[ His words are sharp, but there’s no venom in them. He’s just teasing, especially since Set’s job is what it is… But even so, he pats the bar lightly to excuse himself from the conversation, then walks over to the end by Set. ]

What, you think this is polite company? They’ll be honored.

[ He says, but behind him, his coworker rolls their eyes and nods. It’s fine for him to take the break, especially since the bar isn’t busy at the moment. ]

Shut up, I have a real job!

[ Any onlooker would be hard-pressed to determine the nature of their dynamic. Except for the fact that Set rises immediately to the bait, mouthy and brash.

After all, they are two entities that never should have met in the first place ( although Set has come to learn that that rule is oft-broken by the nature of Servanthood ), separated by duties, time and even vast seas. Yet, here he is — able to invade a shady bar to demand Tezcatlipoca's attention. Petulant and careless of "job responsibilities" as much as he is dismissive of the other god's coworkers and patrons. Surrounding peoples naturally are not as important as his goal, as ever.

With the space between his eyebrows knit so thoroughly, he waits with the trembling energy of someone who is chomping at the bit to expunge the vast wealth of power within him. He's hoping that another kaiju pops up, and soon. There's only so many simulations he can run, demons he can bully and schemes he can hatch against spoiled children before he needs something new. Compared to the Last Place, he's able to laze around so much more. It's enjoyable, but not as stimulating for sure. After all, this is Tezcatlipoca's sort of thing, moreso than his. ( He's jealous! )

Once he gets the other god outside, he pushes his cheek to Tezca's and hums. That hearty purr of some large, delighted animal. ]

I got you something. It's not finished, but I wanted you to see it and approve the design.

[ Hidden in his purse is the smallest mock-up of Tezcatlipoca's true form, bold colors and brilliant eyes — in cuddly, diminutive plushie form. And there's also a few little outfits he takes out, that are pinned and not yet completely sewn together; armor and weapons, as well as a little panther kigu. ]

One of my kids runs a business and makes these things. I showed them your face, and they went insane designing you! When it's done and all the colors and outfits are right, I'm going to order a few for us! I think that it is a good opportunity to begin revive interest in your people and pantheon.

Edited 2025-01-14 22:05 (UTC)

[ It’s at least not that hard to get Tezcatlipoca to leave, at least after some token teasing and resistance. At least, that’s what it is to the two of them. For everyone else, it’s a little more tense, since that’s just the nature of their back and forth with barbed words. They’re two fickle creatures that thrive off conflict, after all

Once outside, he does at least take the opportunity to make this into a smoke break too. His usual cigarettes and lighter come out of his pocket, a cigarette is popped into his mouth, but he’s stopped in his tracks by what Set pulls out. He didn’t know what to expect from Set at all in terms of a gift, and yet, this is still far beyond what he could have guessed. ]

What…

[ He’s shocked and a little confused as he just stares at the marketable plushie version of himself. His true self. That’s what takes him aback the most, since even the classic depictions of Tezcatlipoca were more abstract. It was the art the Aztecs favored, in part, but it was also meant to be a reflection of his nature too. He is the night wind, the impalpable, so how do you depict a god like that?

…Like this. As it turns out.

He’s honestly half-listening to Set’s explanation, but he tunes back in for the last little note he makes. That’s enough for his shocked focus to shift, and he looks up to Set instead. He’s not wholly surprised that it’s what Set’s concerned about, and it’s sweet, in his way. It’s just not something that Tezcatlipoca himself is particularly concerned with. ]

I mean… Don’t really see the point in reviving interest. Is what it is. [ But even so. He does reach out to take one of the little outfits to get a better look at it. The panther kigu, naturally. ] Not sure if “cute” is really the right branding for me anyways.

[ There's a great satisfaction that rolls through him, from the ends of his toes to the crown of his head, to catch Tezcatlipoca off guard. His fellow god ( elder ) was far less tethered to the mortal domain, unlike Set; war and the desert are not, exactly, abstract domains and thus, Set was not a deeply abstract god. Not as he was. To obtain his other domains, however, would be to increase his distance between humanity and his true self — and would that not mean the two of them would have less and less to share? That they would find themselves distant from one another emotionally, intellectually, metaphysically — elder brother and younger brother in all but memory.

To find himself gleeful and giddy to tip the scales in his favor and rustle Tezca's jimmies with the physical image of his ~~true beauty~~ softens the edges of Set's vicious little smile. The line of his brows loosens, his hands gently cupped around the bottom and stiff little legs of the unfinished merchandise. ]

Shut up.

[ Again, he utters those words. ]

I know it does not matter to you because your time has gone and it always would.

[ It matters to Set, though.

The strange non-existence of Servants matters to him, as well; he'd rather obliterate the Throne than ever be beholden to it, but Set already views himself as a stagnant entity, a bastion that oversees his domains to ensure they exist properly in the world. He doesn't have the freedom to shift the parameters within which he operates, lest he unmake himself. Something Quetzalcoatl had said, though, has inspired him to look out for his fellow god, though. In the doggedly determined way that only a bratty little sibling could. ]

I could not have you and Quetzalcoatl both, yet how could I not aspire to hold you as strongly? "We were destined to meet." "You’ll always find family in me." I must tell you to your face — no matter whether we ally or oppose one another, I treasure you. And I know it is not enough for me to do so alone.

[ The sharp refusal gets Tezcatlipoca to glance up from checking out the cute little outfit, and there’s just a hint of sharpness in his eyes, but it’s reflexive. They’re both demanding gods (albeit in somewhat different ways), so being told to shut up brushes up against divine pride, especially as a god that could also be considered a sovereign.

It’s fine from Set, though, and he relaxes with a humorless breath of a laugh at the elaboration. Yeah, of course that’s what bothers him. Is that being “young” in god terms? He’s not sure, but it also doesn’t matter, since his smile warms marginally as his words are repeated back to him. ]

Ha. That’s pretty sentimental from my favorite war god. Just don’t tell my little sister Tenochtitlan if she shows up. I’m letting her borrow the domain of war, so she’d get jealous if she knew that she wasn’t the favorite.

[ He’s very obviously teasing, since it’s not like he’s any better… Arguably, having such difficult domains is probably meant to have some sentimentality with them. Who could know the sting of loss better? With a warmer smile, he flicks at the ears, then passes it back as he takes a puff of his cigarette. He’s at least quietly considerate enough to not get them smoky. ]

You’ve got my blessing to make ‘em. Hell, I’ve been trying to take over that toy company that started usin’ my likeness after the Imugi, so pitching it to them is one step closer to that.

[ That’s the practical. For the emotional… ]

Glad you liked the letter. The gifts were just cute things, but figured that was the real gift.

[ PERMANENT ] i only have two real friends

@ dejimon

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@nice toy

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cw potential eating disorder??

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@KENOS KREW PART DEUX (the toxic gc returns) 1/?????

(tezca is included bc silco's too mad to care)

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(these are all sent in quick succession)

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DONE

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sometime in early january

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