[ For once, Silco does not pull away from the hand that presses against the smeared makeup and sick, stringy flesh that lay underneath the veneer he so often erected. He does not like people to touch him -- Quetz had just recently done so, only days before, and Silco had reeled and raged like a wildfire over it. He'd done so to Set, too, the first time they met, and even Yima -- when she had tried to force that kindness and love onto him, that he so thoroughly refused. He imparts that to Set, even as he accepts that Set would not welcome himself to Zenith, thanks to the eyes of a brother that could be accepted by Yima. A man with impassive, but gluttonous eyes that hungered for Set and him alone. Silco had never experienced such a thing, he does not know what it is, to be...
Wanted. In any way, other than as a parent, and that had been trauma that bound him to his daughter, a need to have someone who would not leave. Silco cannot understand Set's experience with Osiris other than it is vile, because nobody has ever wanted to keep him around. Even his daughter -- he thinks -- he clings to desperately, knowing that her sister could and would convince her to leave him, if he didn't hunt her down and eradicate her.
Would have. Were his daughter to survive.
He does not know. He does not know, but he knows she is -- was -- safe in his quarters. She had been here, and Vi was gone because Vander couldn't stomach to stay close. He could keep his daughter free from Vi, and rest assured that she was his daughter, no matter what.
Silco might be a touch codependent. Something Set was likely to learn, with time. ]
Perhaps you would. We are similar, Set, but we are not the same.
[ Both monsters, fighting for their children in another world, that they had taken from their brothers and raised as their own. Betrayed by men that they thought were their brothers, Silco had been drowned in a river, while Set had drowned his in revenge. Silco could not blame him, knowing what he did of the man's own trangressions. He wanted Set at his side -- he and Sebastian both did, he knew -- in Zenith, but he is correct that the promise, that little whisper of a promise is something to tuck into his pocket, to hold close and keep as an ejection, or an escape route, should Zenith betray him. Silco knew it was possible, even now. Even with Yima's endless love -- and unwanted though it was -- there was no guarantee Silco would get what he wanted. He did not care about the new world, he did not even care about his life. He cared about Jinx's -- and that meant there were still ways in which Zenith could lose him.
But that was not something he considered. Because he considered only one thing, Power -- and Set's hand on scar, the other holding his hand -- he felt the Meridian be peeled from him like a shock of electricity, and he clumsily dove for what was safe, and familiar. That chill, like being deep within a cave, the drip of liquid and the stink of refuse, it is like being home, the feeling of Zenith, and he takes it from Set as greedily as the god takes from him, searching for it, taking. ]
Let them fear us.
[ He vowed it. It is not just a deal, or a bargain. It is a promise. ]
no subject
Wanted. In any way, other than as a parent, and that had been trauma that bound him to his daughter, a need to have someone who would not leave. Silco cannot understand Set's experience with Osiris other than it is vile, because nobody has ever wanted to keep him around. Even his daughter -- he thinks -- he clings to desperately, knowing that her sister could and would convince her to leave him, if he didn't hunt her down and eradicate her.
Would have. Were his daughter to survive.
He does not know. He does not know, but he knows she is -- was -- safe in his quarters. She had been here, and Vi was gone because Vander couldn't stomach to stay close. He could keep his daughter free from Vi, and rest assured that she was his daughter, no matter what.
Silco might be a touch codependent. Something Set was likely to learn, with time. ]
Perhaps you would. We are similar, Set, but we are not the same.
[ Both monsters, fighting for their children in another world, that they had taken from their brothers and raised as their own. Betrayed by men that they thought were their brothers, Silco had been drowned in a river, while Set had drowned his in revenge. Silco could not blame him, knowing what he did of the man's own trangressions. He wanted Set at his side -- he and Sebastian both did, he knew -- in Zenith, but he is correct that the promise, that little whisper of a promise is something to tuck into his pocket, to hold close and keep as an ejection, or an escape route, should Zenith betray him. Silco knew it was possible, even now. Even with Yima's endless love -- and unwanted though it was -- there was no guarantee Silco would get what he wanted. He did not care about the new world, he did not even care about his life. He cared about Jinx's -- and that meant there were still ways in which Zenith could lose him.
But that was not something he considered. Because he considered only one thing, Power -- and Set's hand on scar, the other holding his hand -- he felt the Meridian be peeled from him like a shock of electricity, and he clumsily dove for what was safe, and familiar. That chill, like being deep within a cave, the drip of liquid and the stink of refuse, it is like being home, the feeling of Zenith, and he takes it from Set as greedily as the god takes from him, searching for it, taking. ]
Let them fear us.
[ He vowed it. It is not just a deal, or a bargain. It is a promise. ]