[ His fingers touch upon the smooth surface of Set's shard, guided by Set's own hand, and there's the immediate, instinctive desire to dig his nails in. To scratch at that textured surface and leave marks, claw in as deep as he can. The urge to communicate through violence is ever-present and powerful, and Set must also feel it in the prickle of aggression that tugs at the end of their shared mindscape -- the bared teeth of a dog that knows no other way to interact with people except by biting.
Maybe it's fitting, then, that that kiss to the brow is what soothes him.
Even small and almost chaste, the gesture carries enough inhuman heat to scorch through his nerves. The sensation of it is weighty, like being enveloped in an endless expanse of desert sand, hot enough to ripple through the air; it brings to mind sleepy summer afternoons in his youth, where all he'd wanted to do was doze beside the one person he'd found peace in.
That person isn't Set. But in this moment, here and now, he can at least pretend that Set could have been that person. ]
In our next life, huh.
[ Truth be told, he doesn't really believe in reincarnation. All he wants after his death is peace -- someplace quiet, someplace where he doesn't have to be himself any longer. But ... maybe it wouldn't be bad, if things go down the way Set puts it.
Set is insane and abnormal. Nothing about the way he conducts himself makes sense. And even if Gen is starting to come around to all of those lofty claims that he's a god, that he's something fundamentally greater than human -- he still can't fully understand Set. Maybe that's alright, though. Maybe he doesn't need to. Maybe all that matters is that, in another life, he might have found shelter in this overwhelming, suffocating, sweltering heat from the very beginning. He would have gladly burned there, instead of in the quiet, endless, darkness of his hometown. ]
... then find me faster, next time. [ It's not in his nature to easily ask for things, or to even accept them. But while he doesn't agree to Set's promise, or say that he stay under Set's protection for the moment -- his actions speak plenty for him. He curls up small once more as he sinks against that soporific, comforting heat of Set's presence, though his body's no longer shaken by tremors; the slow exhale he gives is almost a sigh of relief, glossing warm against Set's chest where he ends up resting his head, eyes quietly shuttering closed. ] Before I become like this. [ And, softly, comprehensible only across this too-intimate Communion that's been opened between them: ] ... I wouldn't've minded living for you, then.
no homo tho
Maybe it's fitting, then, that that kiss to the brow is what soothes him.
Even small and almost chaste, the gesture carries enough inhuman heat to scorch through his nerves. The sensation of it is weighty, like being enveloped in an endless expanse of desert sand, hot enough to ripple through the air; it brings to mind sleepy summer afternoons in his youth, where all he'd wanted to do was doze beside the one person he'd found peace in.
That person isn't Set. But in this moment, here and now, he can at least pretend that Set could have been that person. ]
In our next life, huh.
[ Truth be told, he doesn't really believe in reincarnation. All he wants after his death is peace -- someplace quiet, someplace where he doesn't have to be himself any longer. But ... maybe it wouldn't be bad, if things go down the way Set puts it.
Set is insane and abnormal. Nothing about the way he conducts himself makes sense. And even if Gen is starting to come around to all of those lofty claims that he's a god, that he's something fundamentally greater than human -- he still can't fully understand Set. Maybe that's alright, though. Maybe he doesn't need to. Maybe all that matters is that, in another life, he might have found shelter in this overwhelming, suffocating, sweltering heat from the very beginning. He would have gladly burned there, instead of in the quiet, endless, darkness of his hometown. ]
... then find me faster, next time. [ It's not in his nature to easily ask for things, or to even accept them. But while he doesn't agree to Set's promise, or say that he stay under Set's protection for the moment -- his actions speak plenty for him. He curls up small once more as he sinks against that soporific, comforting heat of Set's presence, though his body's no longer shaken by tremors; the slow exhale he gives is almost a sigh of relief, glossing warm against Set's chest where he ends up resting his head, eyes quietly shuttering closed. ] Before I become like this. [ And, softly, comprehensible only across this too-intimate Communion that's been opened between them: ] ... I wouldn't've minded living for you, then.