Even a god, who ought not to fixated upon human bonds — for they do not hold natural sway over the interactions of divinity. Technically, the moment that he ascended he was ungoverned by heritage, untethered from parents and siblings, perfectly independent and equal among all the gods of Egypt. Yet, he still felt isolated. Alone. They ought to have no concept of alone, among the collective — but, he did. Some small need, unmet, has left him injured for years.
He sinks. Folding slowly to his knees before Vash, elegant even while caught in the undertow of punchy shock and hostile misery. There is no other way to be. His hands trail up from the place he had grabbed, following the line of Vash's shoulder, his arm, until he can fold one over the place he has been touched. ]
I cannot trust that. [ Protection will always be conditional, when offered to him. Or, it will be a mocking thing. A god? Needing protection? Hah! ]
It is too late, anyways. What he wanted, he had from me. Now, all he must do is wait — either I will go to him, in despair, or he will destroy everything in his way to get to me.
[ sound familiar vash???
Still, despite the futility in Set's words, he holds fast to that hand. Even as he pries it from his bare skin, feeling the coil of skin-sickness within his belly, he holds it between his own. Idly examining his fingers, the glove, the feeling of it. ]
— how can you be like this? [ And he flicks Communion toward Vash. The ghostly impression of Set's acute sense of smell, which can pick up the uniqueness of divinity itself, treasure below earth, blood spilled in the far corners of Egypt's lands — and the pain, in Vash. ] Gentle, but so far away.
no subject
Even a god, who ought not to fixated upon human bonds — for they do not hold natural sway over the interactions of divinity. Technically, the moment that he ascended he was ungoverned by heritage, untethered from parents and siblings, perfectly independent and equal among all the gods of Egypt. Yet, he still felt isolated. Alone. They ought to have no concept of alone, among the collective — but, he did. Some small need, unmet, has left him injured for years.
He sinks. Folding slowly to his knees before Vash, elegant even while caught in the undertow of punchy shock and hostile misery. There is no other way to be. His hands trail up from the place he had grabbed, following the line of Vash's shoulder, his arm, until he can fold one over the place he has been touched. ]
I cannot trust that. [ Protection will always be conditional, when offered to him. Or, it will be a mocking thing. A god? Needing protection? Hah! ]
It is too late, anyways. What he wanted, he had from me. Now, all he must do is wait — either I will go to him, in despair, or he will destroy everything in his way to get to me.
[ sound familiar vash???
Still, despite the futility in Set's words, he holds fast to that hand. Even as he pries it from his bare skin, feeling the coil of skin-sickness within his belly, he holds it between his own. Idly examining his fingers, the glove, the feeling of it. ]
— how can you be like this? [ And he flicks Communion toward Vash. The ghostly impression of Set's acute sense of smell, which can pick up the uniqueness of divinity itself, treasure below earth, blood spilled in the far corners of Egypt's lands — and the pain, in Vash. ] Gentle, but so far away.