Go on, [ the words are soft, they have nothing to do with what Gen feels, or says, and everything to do with the way that the young man takes hold of Set's hand and begins to dig his nails into his fingers. Into the injuries. To make them worse, to claw them open — and it hurts, the ripe burst of pain that emanates from him is proof of that. If he could, he would hold onto the scar a human would have left.
A scar, made by Gen, forever. ]
I am cruel.
[ Rotten, and cruel. Even to someone he wants to — what? save? As if. Set is not a savior-god, not a hero who arrives with the blessings of others, a warm affect and a do-good attitude. Among the Meridian, he is one of the fringe members, an outlier. Even home, he was an outsider to his own family, his own people. And while Gen speaks, questions, and radiates that pit of unsoothable loneliness — he is so quiet, watching the way those nails drag at the bite marks until he feels his own skin give way a little. A bead of blood bursting up from where a canine tooth had gotten him plenty good.
And maybe, because Gen was not looking at him until this moment... he will think that the slow roll of tears on Set's face are from the pain — even though they had begun, long before. ]
Do you want to know how cruel I am, Gen? [ Murmured. ] It it this cruel: I do not know what will happen in our future. I am not omniscient, but some things I feel are inescapably true. Fated. Destined. Humans are free of these things, but gods are not. I do not know what will happen in the future, but I have a feeling... at the end of all things, it might be best if what I become dies with you. I think we're far more alike than we want to be.
And it would be so wonderful, to tell someone I really hate 'fuck you, I am dying with this rotten son of a bitch instead'.
[ It feels like he should laugh, but he cannot. ]
I do not want you to live directly under a light that causes you, or anyone such pain. That is why I am going to become the shadow for people like you — the ones who would burn otherwise, and need someone to hold them. Like this.
[ An eclipse, among Meridian. Someone who is, but is not. Someone who can keep the direct pain of hope off of them, and filter it into something more palatable. ]
— would you live, if I asked? If I could do that, would you look back and consider the path I will carve for rotten things like us? Not Meridian's path, but ours. Because I will wait for you.
[ He won't delude himself into thinking he could ever be that important. Not to anyone. But, he asks. ]
no subject
A scar, made by Gen, forever. ]
I am cruel.
[ Rotten, and cruel. Even to someone he wants to — what? save? As if. Set is not a savior-god, not a hero who arrives with the blessings of others, a warm affect and a do-good attitude. Among the Meridian, he is one of the fringe members, an outlier. Even home, he was an outsider to his own family, his own people. And while Gen speaks, questions, and radiates that pit of unsoothable loneliness — he is so quiet, watching the way those nails drag at the bite marks until he feels his own skin give way a little. A bead of blood bursting up from where a canine tooth had gotten him plenty good.
And maybe, because Gen was not looking at him until this moment... he will think that the slow roll of tears on Set's face are from the pain — even though they had begun, long before. ]
Do you want to know how cruel I am, Gen? [ Murmured. ] It it this cruel: I do not know what will happen in our future. I am not omniscient, but some things I feel are inescapably true. Fated. Destined. Humans are free of these things, but gods are not. I do not know what will happen in the future, but I have a feeling... at the end of all things, it might be best if what I become dies with you. I think we're far more alike than we want to be.
And it would be so wonderful, to tell someone I really hate 'fuck you, I am dying with this rotten son of a bitch instead'.
[ It feels like he should laugh, but he cannot. ]
I do not want you to live directly under a light that causes you, or anyone such pain. That is why I am going to become the shadow for people like you — the ones who would burn otherwise, and need someone to hold them. Like this.
[ An eclipse, among Meridian. Someone who is, but is not. Someone who can keep the direct pain of hope off of them, and filter it into something more palatable. ]
— would you live, if I asked? If I could do that, would you look back and consider the path I will carve for rotten things like us? Not Meridian's path, but ours. Because I will wait for you.
[ He won't delude himself into thinking he could ever be that important. Not to anyone. But, he asks. ]