Fear not, Springstar's false night is still young. You can make it up to me yet.
[ Pulling Liem from his gloom is the purpose of the evening, drawing him into the life he seems so prepared to hide from — into the life he was not allowed to have, for fear of attracting the eyes of the specter haunting him that he'd called father. While Liem makes headway on his trousers, Set slides free of the line of his back in order to fetch the suit that he had chosen, the handsome blue brocade of it a marvel to him.
He cannot stop running his fingers over the pattern, over the material and the tailoring of it. Even Set's attire for the evening is dressier than his normal clothing, which has a militant austerity and performative authority alongside its, well, supposedly sensual purpose. It has been what he has worn all his existence, without fail, for ease of transformation and emblematic of his status as a god, and to be in anything even slightly more lovely brings with it a wealth of thoughts he cannot quite sift through. A little embarrassment, a little shame, a touch of self-consciousness as if the act of putting on more invited the eye; Set is self-conscious, having already been called out as attractive.
Wielding his body as a purposeful weapon is different than having it looked upon freely, after all.
He brings Liem's suit to him, piece by piece. ] That is good. I had originally suspected you of being too self-contained and mournful to agree to this, but you are not at all disagreeable a man either. I quite like you. Now. Get dressed. I have your hair to do, and a gift to officially bestow.
no subject
[ Pulling Liem from his gloom is the purpose of the evening, drawing him into the life he seems so prepared to hide from — into the life he was not allowed to have, for fear of attracting the eyes of the specter haunting him that he'd called father. While Liem makes headway on his trousers, Set slides free of the line of his back in order to fetch the suit that he had chosen, the handsome blue brocade of it a marvel to him.
He cannot stop running his fingers over the pattern, over the material and the tailoring of it. Even Set's attire for the evening is dressier than his normal clothing, which has a militant austerity and performative authority alongside its, well, supposedly sensual purpose. It has been what he has worn all his existence, without fail, for ease of transformation and emblematic of his status as a god, and to be in anything even slightly more lovely brings with it a wealth of thoughts he cannot quite sift through. A little embarrassment, a little shame, a touch of self-consciousness as if the act of putting on more invited the eye; Set is self-conscious, having already been called out as attractive.
Wielding his body as a purposeful weapon is different than having it looked upon freely, after all.
He brings Liem's suit to him, piece by piece. ] That is good. I had originally suspected you of being too self-contained and mournful to agree to this, but you are not at all disagreeable a man either. I quite like you. Now. Get dressed. I have your hair to do, and a gift to officially bestow.
[ surprise! ]