[ Suit selected, Set leaves the fold of the curtain creased as he steps aside to reach for the table that Liem refers to as his dressing table — there are so many drawers, and all things are tidied in a way that Set wishes to disturb. Perhaps he does, by picking through them to locate a comb he is familiar with, some hair product that indicates itself as useful for styling and holding, and spends a moment sniffing his way through the various scents. After a while, he sneezes horrendously over them, and shoves them all away. Ugh.
The curtain, which he left open, never leaves the peripherals of his vision. Set angles himself, as well, so that he is never avoidable, never out of sight. ]
He mentioned. [ Claude did. That he spoke with Zenith, that he'd spoken with Liem. It was Claude's mention of the three Set ( held dear / worried about / felt himself torn in two over / misery and failure and a timeless ache of abandonment and helplessness ) had been most interested in knowing the wellbeing of that resolved him to seek them, whether Zenith was their forever, or not. It could never be allowed to fully be their home, their refuge. That was his duty, his desire.
While Liem frowns, Set does not allow his expression to droop, nor contract. While his smile fades, the way that he holds himself is elevated; his spine straightens a little, his eyes narrow and harden. Anger does not overtake him, but something made of brittle, oft-broken steel attempts to stand before Liem with resolve, and an inner strength that was only a lie. With a soft clatter, he sets the combs aside for use in a few moments, stepping back into the closet — moving, to stand behind Liem. His body brushing along the others, naturally warm but made warmer yet by Meridian's innate properties, he slides his fingers across Liem's waist.
Hooks them, into the fastenings upon his front and begins to take them apart. One by one, by point of thumb and forefinger, the other three fingers forming a brace, a guide that he slides down Liem's chest, his belly, as he takes his shirt apart meticulously. ]
Isolated. More and more, she is isolated.
[ He will not hide a painful truth, but he does drop his nose briefly to the crown of Liem's head. A smile pushed into it, although what he says? It should not be a normal thing to smile over. To Set, though? It is. ]
She dedicates her violence to me, so that I may share in her victories and pain. Your death became her prayer to me, and I hope to bless her. She made you ours, irrevocably. No matter where you go, I am sure some part of her still yearns for your company.
no subject
The curtain, which he left open, never leaves the peripherals of his vision. Set angles himself, as well, so that he is never avoidable, never out of sight. ]
He mentioned. [ Claude did. That he spoke with Zenith, that he'd spoken with Liem. It was Claude's mention of the three Set ( held dear / worried about /
felt himself torn in two over / misery and failure and a timeless ache of abandonment and helplessness) had been most interested in knowing the wellbeing of that resolved him to seek them, whether Zenith was their forever, or not. It could never be allowed to fully be their home, their refuge. That was his duty, his desire.While Liem frowns, Set does not allow his expression to droop, nor contract. While his smile fades, the way that he holds himself is elevated; his spine straightens a little, his eyes narrow and harden. Anger does not overtake him, but something made of brittle, oft-broken steel attempts to stand before Liem with resolve, and an inner strength that was only a lie. With a soft clatter, he sets the combs aside for use in a few moments, stepping back into the closet — moving, to stand behind Liem. His body brushing along the others, naturally warm but made warmer yet by Meridian's innate properties, he slides his fingers across Liem's waist.
Hooks them, into the fastenings upon his front and begins to take them apart. One by one, by point of thumb and forefinger, the other three fingers forming a brace, a guide that he slides down Liem's chest, his belly, as he takes his shirt apart meticulously. ]
Isolated. More and more, she is isolated.
[ He will not hide a painful truth, but he does drop his nose briefly to the crown of Liem's head. A smile pushed into it, although what he says? It should not be a normal thing to smile over. To Set, though? It is. ]
She dedicates her violence to me, so that I may share in her victories and pain. Your death became her prayer to me, and I hope to bless her. She made you ours, irrevocably. No matter where you go, I am sure some part of her still yearns for your company.