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[ PERMANENT. ] a (k)atch-all log for kenos
WHO: Set ( ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
redsoil ), Bondrewd ( dawnlord ), Drizzt ( twohand ), et. al
WHAT: i actually can't stand month-by-month logs so i'm gonna crush my boys into one perma-log for anything outside of events
WHERE & WHEN: Listed in comment headers, or under the cut.
WARNINGS: General warnings for violence, vulgarity and unethical science. Will update/comment with warnings!
I struggle so hard w/ month-by-month logs, so y'all have to deal with my weird organization...
— [MARCH | SET] GOT NO SHAME, GOT NO PRIDE
redsoil ), Bondrewd ( dawnlord ), Drizzt ( twohand ), et. alWHAT: i actually can't stand month-by-month logs so i'm gonna crush my boys into one perma-log for anything outside of events
WHERE & WHEN: Listed in comment headers, or under the cut.
WARNINGS: General warnings for violence, vulgarity and unethical science. Will update/comment with warnings!
I struggle so hard w/ month-by-month logs, so y'all have to deal with my weird organization...
— [MARCH | SET] GOT NO SHAME, GOT NO PRIDE
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Because he asks a desperate question, he receives a patient answer. It has to be enough for him to find purchase in; his ribs expand, for though he does not need as much oxygen as a mortal, it is still something he draws on. Akin to breathing in scent, breathing in the fabric of the world itself, instead of just the air of his grandfather. That is how he can find the hint of her, the sunny scent of Quetzalcoatl's divinity; like a warm fruit, the incendiary heat that follows the breaking of a bone, her voice and scent manage to fill him enough. He lifts his head, peering through the curtain of his own hair, dark pupils blown wide as a black mirror, mouth bitten to shred by his own teeth. ]
Yes, he can. No matter where I go, he made sure of it.
[ There is nothing but the utmost faith in that statement, born of repetition and the steady erosion of his will below another's. Even if Osiris's image is but a ghost now, he could become real and present any time. He could crawl out from the roots of the Tree of Life, he could be the Tree of Life itself — the unbidden image of his brother, corpse-green and made of roots and dark-eyed, his eyebrows creased in heartsickness, his hands holding to Set's torn body. I have only ever lived for you, he had said. It springs between the two of them, Savant to Stargazer.
( Zenith would readily call to a man like that, and Set can only think — if he were not the one here, he would be the prize that Osiris would ask for. )
He has to lunge for Quetzalcoatl, because if he does not, he will have to ( hear / feel / think ) again of the warning. Instead of meeting her with claws and teeth, he plunges himself into her warm arms, threads his fingers into her golden hair and hides against her without a sound. Maybe, if he buries himself in her, he will not be found. ]
Quetzalcoatl. [ He breathes her name into the crook of her neck. ] I cannot stay like this —
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Mm, you can’t.
[ She agrees gently, then leans her own head against his to complete the protective gesture. The vision that Set shared (unintentionally, she thinks, proud as he is) was a horror, even if she doesn’t understand the true depth of it. It’s an image that will stick with her too. It’s not the roots, the green, but just the look on the specter’s face. Whatever the story behind it, it almost didn’t matter to her. Just seeing how it reaches into the depths of the otherwise unshakeable war god’s heart is enough. ]
So, stay here with me, yes? If he can follow you, then I’ll be the hurricane that shields you.
[ It’s more metaphor than reality here in Kenos, but still perfectly serious. Her words are soft and gentle, but as Set knows better than most others in Kenos, Quetzalcoatl could be ruthless and wild. A comparison to a great, destructive storm is a fair one if it was something she took seriously, and there’s little she takes more seriously than to look out for those she cared more deeply for. It’s also why she punctuates her words by placing a kiss at the crown of Set’s head. ]
Come winds, come lightning, and you’ll always be safe in the center of my storm. It's an oath I swear to you, okay?
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To entrust himself to the leadership, even if they are each inviting and warm and may truly love those that serve their cause, would be too painful. It runs the risk of becoming what he was familiar with, when he was but a protector god of the sands, and not the god of war. ( He had loved his older siblings, so much. Each one of them an icon, a shining beacon of life, love, peace — the humans adored them, admired them, prayed to them. He cannot remember his form before his own ascension, not in any capacity, but he knows once he'd stepped into the fullness of his divinity, he had thought the four of them inseparable. Faithful. Loyal. Loving. Even if he was not truly one of them, god of war and strife — far, far from Heliopolis for so long. )
Did he ever really know any of them, he wonders?
As with all things, Set wars. Externally, he fights Shard-bearers and their minds and hearts, and internally, he now fights with his desire to be comforted and his pride, his paranoia. To reveal to anyone his time of weakness is inviting them to doubt him, perhaps to make use of it when angry, when cornered, when seeking higher approval or advantage. He is not tired, for a god does not tire, but he feels raw. Even his attempts at helping come back upon him as punishment, and so he turns to carousal, only to find it is not enough to reach anyone.
He hooks his knees up, around Quetzalcoatl's ribs. Curling against her in the way — ]
My mother never looked to me. [ He tells her. ] If she saw all things happening below her, why did she not see me? She opened the heavens and sobbed wretchedly for my sister, Isis, but the heavens were barren for me —
[ I was scared, and weak, he had told the souls he had slaughtered. Cruelty done unto him, reflected upon them. So he could pretend to be big and strong and powerful. ]
Why was I unworthy of her sorrow?
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What Set describes is a bit foreign to her, at least in terms of her personal experience. When it came to the gods of the Azteca and their conception of “family” it was more similar to how Ra thought of it. Not quite as flippant, maybe, but there weren’t the bonds and emotions that were more human in nature. They were simply different beings, a little more alien
(literal)in how they related to each other.But unlike her siblings, Quetzalcoatl doesn’t find it hard to relate to. She may not know what it’s like to have parents who were anything but forces of nature in the heavens. She may not know what it’s like to be one herself. But she’s watched countless lives come and go. Quetzalcoatl had made humanity from bone and blood, and so she couldn’t bear to not understand what she had made, lest they fall in the same way their predecessors had. She’s seen mothers and sons, watched them and sat among them when she was able to descend to Earth. Even so— ]
No sé.—I don’t know.
[ How could she? She couldn’t presume to guess why a mortal mother would shun her son, since the reasons could be vast and complex. Sometimes even understandable and sympathetic. But for a god of a distant land, it could be leagues more than even that. However, it’s clear. It’s no less painful for the child, mortal or god. ]
But I think it’s wrong. My people, they would call that tlazolli. It’s imbalance, and it causes pain and damage to everything it touches. It’s a pollution of the heart.
[ And in this little comparison and confession, she sees what Set had meant about how Silco can find more comfort in Set’s shadow than her light. They both have tlatlacolli, the damage that leads to tlazolli. There’s a damage that they’re both too proud or too afraid to touch and try and heal. So, she tells Set the same. ]
She should have seen you. Cried for you when you hurt. [ Not that Set had said that so explicitly, but she can guess. ] You were worthy of that. To me, you are worthy of it.
[ It’s a connection of conversation he might even think of (if not now, then later), but it’s no less sincere for it. From the bottom of her heart, she means it, and she also understands why it’s not easy for people that bear such damage to accept. It just makes her certain that there’s all the more need to be that steadfast voice of acceptance and simple belief of pain. ]
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As he tucks his head under her chin, close to the little green gem that is both piercing and the soul of another god he had held within him ( returned carefully to the tree, tucking her deep below a beautiful patch of moss to rest and recover — ), pulling his fingers through her hair as if trying to use it to blanket himself: ] I did my best, to help the Tree. When it was Blighted, I took that poison into myself and the Tree — warned me.
[ There is a little fresh pain, as he holds a hand to his chest. As he cards his soul through the flowers that bloom there, to the single dark one that resides with one last petal upon it. ]
It showed me someone from my world, arriving. How he was embraced by Yima, given the same graces I was [ the flower ] and I realized — she would not love me any more than the one who haunts me. She would likely not protect me from him, nor condemn him for what he did. In her love, we are all present — and we are all invisible. And it would just be the same as Nut, who did not see me at all.
[ He seeks the warmth of Meridian in Quetzalcoatl, among the warmth of her divinity.
There are still things he would compromise himself for, but for now? He turns to the sun. ]
I still see 'the warning', watching me in the dark. I want him to go away.
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[ It’s coincidental that it’s a comparison that works so well in this case. The world of the Aztecs and the ancient Egyptians are separated by vast time and space, and so all of her knowledge comes from what the Throne grants her as a Servant. In that, it’s also incomplete, because the Throne doesn’t deem it necessary. She can recognize a name, the legends that go with it, but an appearance, especially of a god? That’s too esoteric for the Throne to grant to a Servant (and maybe even unfair, considering how much of an advantage just knowing a name was). ]
My older brother and I, we’ve always warred bitterly, you know? We’re fated to, probably, because if I’m the light of the sun, then he’s the obsidian mirror that eats up light. We can make truces, put aside our pasts to work together if we need to, but we’ll also never get along. I wouldn’t give my brother the kind of love that a mother goddess would, and so even if I can love a lot, there are still limits. That’s what I mean.
[ She gives Set a squeeze, and this time it’s distinctly protective more than simply affectionate. ]
So, your enemies are my enemies, Set. If Yima embraces him, then I’ll burn him away. Not because he’s Zenith either, yes? Because he’s haunting you, and you’re my dear friend.
[ She means it too, probably more than Set realizes. If Osiris were to show up in Kenos, it’s a situation where Quetzalcoatl would consider unleashing her full, destructive power if it was needed. She was a protector and someone that put value in self-sacrifice and how it could be used to help others find a better life. So, it wouldn’t even be a question. ]
But for now… [ She makes a thoughtful noise, then gently nestles her head against his as her hug relaxes. Not completely, of course, but it’s simply not so tight. ] If he’s in the dark, then stay in my light, yes? The dark is strong, but it still has to flee from the dawn. Whatever he says, whatever he does, let it get blinded and deafened so it can’t reach you.
cw horrible gaslighting and abuse yk yk
A perfect parent, he does not want; his own mother had never quite looked at him, as if he did not exist to her. For years, he had tormented his own sister and only once Isis had returned to claim the thrown did anyone, any other god, raise their voice to him. Only for her, to support and defend her. ( Certainly, for a long time they had also bitched about her, since his pursuit of her had severely impacted their lives, but — he hated gods, more than he felt much of anything for humanity. )
Maybe that is why he finds it easier to sink into Quetzalcoatl's embrace, and push his nose under her chin like an animal seeking a ray of sunlight, the strong arms of someone who will not pay too much attention to the way it buries itself deep into that hold. Maybe, that is why Set had always been prone to wander to foreign lands and seek the company of foreign gods and their knowledge, their ways, their wisdom. He really, really feels like,
he could trust Quetzalcoatl. She's too stupid to use the information against him, and he has never... he has never told anyone the truth. Either they had seen, or been told by others. Even Horus knew, because he had been told. Isis had seen, and turned away. ]
— my older brother. He's my older brother, Osiris. The god of life, beloved by gods and men. I loved him, too. [ He still loves him, pitiably. ] I was happy to be at his side, to direct his armies and come home to be adored by him. We were — we were good friends, good allies. He married my sister, Isis. He stood by my side when I wed Nephthys, when my child was born... and he lied, all that time. For centuries, he lied and smiled and I did not see any of it and —
[ If he had had Quetzalcoatl there, he thinks — would he have been saved? ]
He took my ability to have children. He fathered my son, whom I raised. He told me my wife only accepted me on his behest, for peace lies only with power. He turned my sister and best friend into his sycophant, who blamed me for — for, [ he chokes for a second. Stress builds in the atmosphere, radiating off of his body as he curls tighter and sinks his claws into the other god's arms. He wants to die. He'd rather die than admit it, but. Horus knew. And Horus was so much like Quetzalcoatl; he was the child of Osiris, yet — he wanted to protect Set, who made his life a living hell.
Weak at heart, he cannot say it. He would be less than a man. The implication is there, regardless. ]
He took everything from me, to ensure I could turn to no one but him. And he said, he loved me.
#justosiristhings
It strikes her first as he explains the dynamics of his family just how different their pantheons are. In broad strokes, it’s the same, of course. They’re powerful beings with dominion over everything from nature to abstract concepts. They’re imperfect and flawed, because even with power, they’re still people. But the dynamics that Set describes at the start are much more human than her own pantheon’s.
It wasn’t like they didn’t marry or have children. Most of the gods did, honestly, and it was just the four Tezcatlipocas (though she’d always hate being considered an aspect of him) who were destined to remain bachelors. But the emotion that went with such a thing for humans and for Set simply wasn’t there for them. Marriage or children was almost preordained, a bond that fulfilled a role within the universe of the Azteca rather than a bond of emotion.
But she doesn’t think lesser of him for the difference between their families—No, the story that Set tells (and the part he doesn’t tell) hurts all the more for the fact that he isn’t given that distance. Set’s conflict with Osiris isn’t like her conflict with Tezcatlipoca at all. Rather than their relationship being more akin to a force of nature, a natural cycle of things where they would always be at odds, there’s real, painful betrayal here.
It’s evil, she thinks, and an anger on Set’s behalf builds with each of Osiris’s crimes. By the time he chokes on the last part and his claws dig into her arms, the sting of it isn’t even something she reacts to. He’ll just feel the strong muscle of her arms that’s tight with tension, and though he can’t see her face as he’s folded into her, the anger and upset is almost palpable as it rolls off her. If she possessed her Authority here in Kenos, it surely would have drawn a storm to Springstar above. ]
What he did… All of that is amocualli, great evil. It’s not love.
[ Her voice is still soft, but there’s a lower edge to it. It’s beyond the ideas of tlatlacolli, because it’s a kind of damage that can be repaired or repented for. No one is perfect, and no one is free of the damage to one’s heart that tlatlacolli causes. But amocualli, that’s something that can’t be forgiven. It’s a defect so deep that it can’t be carved out. ]
If he ever crawls out of the roots of the Tree, I’ll kill him. He doesn’t deserve to be a god of life, and I’ll rip that domain away from him before I carve out his heart and his Shard.
[ Were he not clinging to her so tightly, she’d take his face into her hands to demonstrate her sincerity. In lieu of that, her hold relaxes as she forces some of the angry tension away, but it’s so her embrace is softer too. She wants to convey acceptance and love to him, even if her heart is on fire. ]
I’m sorry this happened to you, Set. [ And, just based on how it had come up, with his anguish over being ignored by Nut and how he feared Yima’s indiscriminate love, she can guess— ] And I’m sorry that you had to bear it alone.
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in some ways,
loved. Shamefully so. Reconciling the image of his generous, kind brother and the madman he had become felt impossible. ( Set knows he drives men to madness, after all. ) ]
— who would have born it for me? With me? I was an idiot.
[ A naive idiot, blindsided. ]
Nobody asked. Nobody wondered. Nobody considered that he could have been the one who ruined everything, it all fell upon me. You know gods are made for particular duties, yes? We are made by our creators, or are creators whom make ourselves, even. But, we do not choose our way. So, if we are made — if we are given roles, and maat, reality itself, expects us to perform them for the functionality of the world —
[ He sighs through his thought. ]
I was made to be alone, Quetzalcoatl.
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Mm, it’s true. We’re given roles to fulfill because the world itself needs us to, yes? When there are humans that believe in us, then we’re made to be what they both need. But…
[ It was a vastly different feeling at the time, but the memory still comes to her. Divinity is powerful, but it wasn’t all-reaching. She had once stared up at an impossible god and declared her nothing, because a god’s power was always derived from their lands and their people. Quetzalcoatl was of neither, and so she could defy even something impossible. It’s probably fitting that Set’s lands weren’t too far off from those because in that, she can find more certainty. ]
The rules of reality, they aren’t so concrete, you know? At least not when you start getting gods talking to other gods, anyways. You’re bound to maat and I’m bound to teotl, but they’re not the same thing. I’m a god of a distant land where all the rules that govern it are different.
[ And at this point, she does pull back from him, but just a little. She can’t resist the urge anymore, because she wants, no, needs to see his face as she says this. When there’s enough space between them, Quetzalcoatl places her hands on either side of his face. She lifts his gaze up to hers so that he’s not just hearing her words, but so he can see the conviction behind them too. But it’s gentle as well. Her hands cradle his face with care, like he’s something precious. That too is her love. ]
Maat has no more sway over me than teotl does over you. So, I can be the one to break your fate while you’re away from it. I will be. [ That simple sentence is said with weight, like she's swearing an oath with divine power behind it. But after a moment to let that sink in, her serious expression does turn to a tender smile. ] Me and everyone else that cares about you here in Kenos too, you know? You don’t have to be alone anymore, not ever.
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His hands hook into the ends of her hair, drop low to the warm skin of her waist as he is brought up, to look into her eyes. The weight of her words is unmistakable; a warm thing, but something with the bearing and audacity of a god, and his own instincts cannot deny such an oath. Just because her conviction is spent on him, does not mean he can ignore it any less than Cassian pledging to protect him ( protect? him? what the hell does that even mean! ) or Hayame taking him by the hand to urge him to be better.
He cannot ignore the convictions of those who oppose him, so why is it such a struggle, when that conviction is focused upon him? He feels — difficult, and lethargic. In his throat, a stone-like weight bobs as he swallows coldness down into the root of his ribs and his hands tremble against her. What does one say, when a fellow god pledges something so simple but so deep to another? What can he say, when protest dries up in his mouth and he can do nothing but push his face through the firm hold she has upon it and find the line of her shoulder, hands rising, arms sliding around her to feel the powerful muscle of her back.
Unmistakably, his brother's poison lingers. A curse rooted so deeply within him, powerful because it was made from him and designed to act as shackle and collar. The leash was never attached, though. But, it was there. Waiting. Yet, in Kenos — for as long as possible, he is free from the threat. The potential is there, but at the very least? Quetzalcoatl is at his side. ( Horus, was once at his side. He doesn't know why he keeps thinking of his nephew, either. ) ]
— okay. Okay, I hear you, Quetzalcoatl. I believe you.
[ While tenuous, and fleeting, he accepts her conviction. ]
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Good.
[ It’s her simple response first with just a little tone of the teasing, chiding big sister—it’s a ”you had better”, though the threat behind it is still ultimately a playful one. The only consequence he could possibly face at her hands would be a lecture or maybe having a lucha move practiced on him. Her love is simple, but warm and vast.
…Though, it’s not like she doesn’t share the thoughts that go through Set’s mind. It’s a promise she can’t possibly keep, not in the sheer expanse that is their lives. Even if they see Meridian’s dream realized, even in the slight chance that maybe they were from the same world… The Quetzalcoatl that Set is meeting is the Heroic Spirit, not the God. Her spirit will return to the Throne, and she can only hope that her more divine self might peek into the experiences of the smaller one and take what she’s learned.
Still. She might not be able to keep the promise truly forever, but as long as she’s here, she’ll hold that promise close. She’ll be as reliable and steadfast as the sun, so that maybe when the time comes that they have to part ways standing on his own might not be so intimidating. Maybe he can look and consider that even if his hands were bound by maat, the hands of those reaching out to him first might not be.
So, gently, she leans her head against his to rest it there. ]
Just like the sun always looks over the desert, I’ll look after you, Set.