[ Not only will she reveal to him that which lingers, waiting for her, in her iliachtida, he will demand it of her. To surveil the field, to know the cast with which he must work. The numbers, the terrain, the weapons. He will scour it, and with her they will decide down to the second how to best use the limited time she has to prepare a better fate for herself ( for matsukaze — ) than the one she thinks is the only possible route. She did not have a god of war at her side, then. She does not, and he will live up to the blessing she demanded of him; even beyond Kenos, he will sweep upon her in a memory and drive her to victory.
That is why he holds her to him, crushing the line of her to him. Legs tangling, hair tangling, his arms around her as his hearts thunder and his hands fight to sink into her. Brutal, possessive. No matter how angry she grows or how angry he is, the fact is that they chose one another for this. She demanded of him, and he demanded of her. ]
— what do you think I am doing, really.
[ His tone is flat, but wry. A miserable little laugh inside of him as she tells him what he already knows. No matter what he does, how he comports himself, his goal is to lead Meridian to a victory. It is to keep the promise he made with his child, even if that child — even if that child no longer remembers, and thus Set's vow is null and void. He could be happy, choosing Zenith and obtaining Anubis's shard. Perhaps in time, away from Osiris, they could find one another again and be happy. They could learn it again. ( He would need Horus, too. He — cannot leave his nephew, unless he would have to choose between the two. )
She has to bring up the shade, though.
Running hard on adrenaline and the strangeness of his body, he startles at the insidious creep of his kin's presence returning to him. Sun-warm, verdant green, a beacon of prosperity and goodness that he wants to shrink from, to make himself so small and invisible below the dark gaze of. Is that not why he took Hayame's form? She finds herself undesirable in the eyes of others, perhaps — if that is true, he can be less so in the eyes of Osiris. He can be safe, if he is like her.
It is not true, unfortunately. Man, beast or force of nature, Set is Set. And Set, is what is wanted. He feels the ghostly impression of fingers in the ends of his hair and curls harder around her, hooves lashing at the ground as a ( whimper / cry / plea ) leaves his throat. In response to his own fears, he works his spells subconsciously, and entangling vines, blossoming red at the ends, snake around his back leg; dragging at the hands he holds her with.
]
— he is not here, he is not here. I know he is not, but — I saw it, I saw his potential. The Tree warned me! He will not ever let me go somewhere he cannot find me eventually, even in Kenos!
[ Driven by pure animal fear and deep, ancient pain, he buries his face into her hair before wrestling himself to his feet. As if to run, as if to fight, hostile and cornered to little avail. ]
no subject
That is why he holds her to him, crushing the line of her to him. Legs tangling, hair tangling, his arms around her as his hearts thunder and his hands fight to sink into her. Brutal, possessive. No matter how angry she grows or how angry he is, the fact is that they chose one another for this. She demanded of him, and he demanded of her. ]
— what do you think I am doing, really.
[ His tone is flat, but wry. A miserable little laugh inside of him as she tells him what he already knows. No matter what he does, how he comports himself, his goal is to lead Meridian to a victory. It is to keep the promise he made with his child, even if that child — even if that child no longer remembers, and thus Set's vow is null and void. He could be happy, choosing Zenith and obtaining Anubis's shard. Perhaps in time, away from Osiris, they could find one another again and be happy. They could learn it again. ( He would need Horus, too. He — cannot leave his nephew, unless he would have to choose between the two. )
She has to bring up the shade, though.
Running hard on adrenaline and the strangeness of his body, he startles at the insidious creep of his kin's presence returning to him. Sun-warm, verdant green, a beacon of prosperity and goodness that he wants to shrink from, to make himself so small and invisible below the dark gaze of. Is that not why he took Hayame's form? She finds herself undesirable in the eyes of others, perhaps — if that is true, he can be less so in the eyes of Osiris. He can be safe, if he is like her.
It is not true, unfortunately. Man, beast or force of nature, Set is Set. And Set, is what is wanted. He feels the ghostly impression of fingers in the ends of his hair and curls harder around her, hooves lashing at the ground as a ( whimper / cry / plea ) leaves his throat. In response to his own fears, he works his spells subconsciously, and entangling vines, blossoming red at the ends, snake around his back leg; dragging at the hands he holds her with.
— he is not here, he is not here. I know he is not, but — I saw it, I saw his potential. The Tree warned me! He will not ever let me go somewhere he cannot find me eventually, even in Kenos!
[ Driven by pure animal fear and deep, ancient pain, he buries his face into her hair before wrestling himself to his feet. As if to run, as if to fight, hostile and cornered to little avail. ]