The Seeds of Unrest: the Iconoclast Oracle

[beleos]

RUNNING OUT THE CLOCK

The situation is bleak.

The Blight - and the massive labyrinth of roots tearing both cities asunder, spreading deadly flowers wherever they penetrate - have progressed to a point beyond catastrophe. People are dying in rapid numbers. Bearers are having difficulty keeping up with the spread of infection - even among one another. The collapse of Kenos seems inevitable; a cure will not come in time. You can do nothing but watch as each new day brings further disaster, ticking down the seconds until it all falls apart.

And then, you feel something seize your Shard. As if physical fingers have wrapped around it, as if it is being clutched through you by invisible hands, you feel invaded. You feel wronged. But before you can panic, a voice enters your mind through Communion.

“Excuse the dramatics, but there isn’t much time for pleasantries. The Trees are about to hit the point of no return. But there's still work to be done. The Tree of Life will take you where you can find it: the Oracle and the creature causing all this mess. Fix this when you find them. However you'd like.”

Have you heard Aetos’ voice before? Perhaps it is the first time; perhaps it is familiar to you. Either way, the last thing you will remember is a confusing jumble: a spell of immense and incredible power, one utilizing the Tree’s strength to shelter you. The sensation of every cell in your body coming alive, yet seeming to break apart and render you into billions and billions of tiny pieces, all hovering in different times and places across all the different iterations, timelines, and realities in which you have ever existed. A voice that speaks not through words asking your forgiveness, unspeakably sad.

And then, there is nothing.

AWAKENING

Your eyes open, gritty with the feeling of a long, deep slumber.

Perhaps it takes a moment to shake off the heavy veil of exhaustion, to recollect what you were doing before you fell into this state of hibernation - but as soon as you do, you feel an immediate sense of foreboding around you. It is thick in the air, oppressive and pervasive, and you aren’t left long to wonder at its source. You lay beneath the branches of the Tree of Life, but as your bleary eyes focus… you see it. The Tree is all but bereft of life. Its bark has withered down to gnarled wood, the soft lichen dried up, and the grass that should be alive beneath you is long dead and gone. There is not so much as a single leaf on its decaying branches.

It has been this way for a long, long time... you realize this with a feeling of intense dread as you see it - the beautiful expanse of stars, of the cosmos, of universes scattered like starlight above the tree's boughs, gone. In its place hangs a sickly, ominously low-hanging, and dying sun ready to sing the end of everything.

You can't help but wonder how long Kenos has been in this state, but a sense of gratitude fills you as you realize that the Tree expended the last of its energies to protect you, the Bearers, during your state of rest. Had Aetos worked with the tree to see you sent here?

The next question comes quickly: how much time do you have left…? And can you find the Oracle before that time expires?

ABANDON HOPE (DAYS 1 & 2)

The cornerstones are still active and will take you to whichever city you wish to see.

Highstorm and Springstar sit like empty monuments to the cities that were once filled with life - yet the first thing you will notice is they are strangely absent the signs of the Tree’s overgrown roots, the Blight, the catastrophic damage that you can recall all too easily. Instead, each city sits as those they were summarily abandoned overnight, leaving nothing but their shells behind. There is a stillness in the air that is unnatural and unsettling. Despite the lack of any sign of the citizens of either city, you cannot help but feel… watched.

Something terrible happened here. Best you find the Oracle before something terrible finds you, instead.

The burning of a dying sun beats down on you wherever you go, unbearable heat sending waves off the aged cobblestone streets. Perhaps it is your instinct to seek refuge in the shade - but linger too long about the shadows and that feeling of eyes on your back, of being unable to breathe, of your world closing in around you will grow untenable and drive you back into the light. If you hope to explore the ghostly shell of your city in search of the Oracle - or to sate your curiosity, some problem-solving might be in order.

And while you acclimate yourself to your circumstances, you cannot help but note you feel wrong inside, somehow…

EXPLORATION

• If your characters choose to explore previously unreachable areas, please use THIS TOPLEVEL to report when they get there in the thread! We will get back to you with what is discoverable in that location.
• The following areas are off limits for exploration: below Yima’s Manor; below the Church of Heliopolis; Alenroux; Kowloon.
• The Great Trees of both Highstorm and Springstar are in a similar state to the Tree of Life and will not respond to Communion.
• Generally speaking, items will be of poor quality. Most will look as though they’ve aged thousands of years. Others will be in half-decent shape, but sparingly so. Oddly enough, it doesn’t seem like the whole city has aged at the same rate, so especially diligent rummagers can find worthwhile supplies. Please consider this should be rare and don’t go overboard!

NOTES

Here are some prompt reminders - see the full thing at the OOC Summary!

• Characters will have a diluted connection to the Zenith or Meridian.
• There will be periods powers are weakened or non-functional during days 1-2 (up to player discretion).
• The sunlight results in scorching; the shadows cause claustrophobia and fear while outdoors.

THE RITUAL (DAYS 2+)

The place you started your journey to Kenos is also where it seems it will end. As soon as the first Bearer makes contact with the Iconoclast effigy, you are collectively drawn to the roots beneath the Tree - like a pang sent through your Shard. Your objective has been found. The Oracle awaits.

Trusting Aetos seems like a fool's errand, but you must put your hope in the Tree. What choice do you have left? It's time to find what lies at the end of this.

Bearers descend, your steps echoing in the dark, cavernous space. Once brimming with life and vitality, the roots are now dried and brittle like the bones of some ancient leviathan that died long ago. As you make their way deeper into the earth, the deadened roots twist, leading you to a vast chamber deep within it; the air here is thick with the smell of decay, and the faint glow of luminescent fungi and mosses barely illuminates the space.

To your left, the Bearers will notice what has drawn them here - and the object of their search.

An effigy sits on the ground between two darkened tunnels. The effigy is made of gnarled, dead branches woven together in a humanoid shape; its hollow, empty eyes are sightless, yet you cannot help but feel it is watching your every move. Branded on its forehead is the Iconoclast symbol carved into the rough wood.

Once all Bearers are present, the Ritual will begin. Your means of exit have been sealed off, and you are trapped, slowly deteriorating together…

NOTES

• Bearers will have access to the Ritual Chamber which is a very wide, open space with the effigy situated against the far wall from the entrance. Several smaller tunnels off-shoot from the Ritual Chamber. They all run to dead ends; some are very small or narrow. This may afford you meager privacy away from the group.
• Once a Bearer steps into the Chamber, they can no longer head back out the way they came. They’ll find themselves automatically walking back into the Chamber as if of their own volition.
• For brevity’s sake we won’t list them out again here, but the complete description of effects Bearers will experience days 2+ is available in the OOC Summary.
• The effigy is impervious to damage.
• It Is Watching You.
• In a dead-end root tunnel attached to the Iconoclast’s Chamber is the Blighted statue of an Otter that may be familiar to some… Please see THIS TOPLEVEL for more information!

THE PURGE (DAYS 5+)

The sap has festered in your veins for what feels like days. It’s impossible to tell how much time has passed; this place has no sunlight. The effigy watches as you remain trapped, huddled together around it, unable to leave as you find yourself sick with the affliction of the Meridian, Zenith - or both.

And then… something finally gives.

Though it does not move and speaks no words, you feel the effigy offering you guidance. Knowledge. Much like the Tree speaks to you in impressions and feelings, you are conveyed wisdom you did not have before: a way to take what you want and rid yourself of what you do not. A way to make your convictions known to all who would hear them. A way to be known. To write your path in blood, be it yours… or theirs.

When all is said and done, only one force - Zenith or Meridian - will gain its favor.

Show it who you are. Show it what resolve looks like to you - and what you are willing to do to attain it.

NOTES

Here are some prompt reminders - see the full thing at the OOC Summary!

• You can Purge your alignment through various methods: Trading, Corrupting, or using the Effigy itself.
• All characters will understand the end goal is for everyone to Harmonize; the alignment with the higher rate of Harmonized Bearers alive when time’s up wins the Oracle’s favor.

NOTES

• A reminder that the Harmonization tally will take place on Friday, the 19th and be open through Monday, the 29th. The results will be released on Wednesday, the 31st OOCly.
• Don’t forget to submit any deaths to the Death Tracker, with a gentle reminder characters will remain dead until the event conclusion!
• Reminder to fill out the SETTING POLL ASAP if you haven't already!
• Have some MUSIC if you'd like. LYRICS here!
• HAVE FUN!!

CODING

Comments

[zauneyete]

You know that this world has already robbed me of my vengeance, Set.

[ He says, sharp and biting in response, before Set moves on. Something bitter, and it is not just that Vander is alive, but something is missing, and Birdie Martinson took it. There are more cruelties in this world than just what Yima would commit, after all.

Unknowns are rife in his words. Set's words. He can feel them, see them. He does not say where this vision came from, of his brother and Yima embracing, or why -- but Silco knows that Yima embraces any who will join with her, and who best but a god of life to make her new world. Yima had tried to embrace him, too, and likely would have his daughter, or even Vander, if he'd spent much time there. Silco thinks it is the mark of emotions, that she does so, as if she wishes to manipulate the emotions of those that might sign on with her.

He does not know, because he has never allowed Yima to do so to him. Never embraced it. He fought it at every turn, and never allowed her to do so, unless it was to bestow power. But Silco was unusual to the rest of them. The rest of them found comfort in a maternal presence. The soft promise of darkness and night, the promise of power, and destruction.

Set speaks of standing in the way of his vengeance, and Silco would even now, even as Jinx's distressed sounds echo from behind him, even as he can feel the phantom of her over his shoulder, like the pressure of shadow and the knowledge that she was there -- how often had he conducted business with his daughter watching over him from the rafters? -- He could continue as if he didn't hear her voice, echoing everything Set said. ]

Few know that she exists, let alone -- anything else.

[ Let alone that she is Silco's daughter. Vander still claims her as his -- uses a name she does not, Powder -- and even Aetós does not know her real name. Powder is dead, he told the mage, and he meant it. Jinx was alive, and perfect, but when she'd been younger... she'd had a different name.

His fingers twitch against Set, but he does not pull away. Do they need contact, for this, to exchange energies? ]

If she would be in danger -- [ And she would, for she was Jinx, and if he thought that Set would not favor her... ]

-- Someone would only need someone to look after her life. As a herald of chaos and strife. She is strong, but we are human. We have no powers, but... she's brilliant, a genius. I mean it when I say she is perfect.

[ A wry smile, here. It's rare to see anything but sarcasm or the briefest of microexpressions from the man, but...

It's there. A flicker of something proud. ] Though she is also... impetuous. Whimsical. She would involve herself in trouble just to see what would happen.

You would love her, like you do that unruly beast, Hayame. That woman has nothing on Jinx.

[redsoil]

[ What Silco passes to him, is nothing short than a way to unmake him. Unfortunately, Set has also passed to the man the means to unmake him, as well. There is no victory in admitting what they will see, when they pass Meridian and Zenith energies between them. There is only the fact that they can do it, while they choose to, rather than when it is wrested from them and revealed like someone tearing secrets from their bodies and casting them to the winds. Few know that she exists, let alone — anything else.

Silco's daughter. The girl named Jinx.

Incredulously, punch-shocked by the whole situation, he feels he has entered some parallel dimension. One, where he hears something hidden in what Silco says and cannot fathom that he means it. He cannot mean that hidden thing, he cannot be asking that secret, unspoken thing. His eyes widen, pupils thinning like a startled cat; Set has always been far too expressive, unmasked and bare-faced as he is. He wishes he had his mask now, and instead all that he has is the vague alignment of his fingers to Silco's. What a hilariously wretched pair they are. Two men who can undeniably understand one another, and who would be so undoubtedly powerful if only they were able to unify on one side or the other. ]

— honestly, I was suggesting you eliminate the Lady and the threat she also imposes upon your daughter. You cannot be suggesting what I think you are.

[ The wry smile catches him. He does not think of who Silco could have been, if he had not been thrust into the waters and commanded to die for — for what? What could even inspire Vander to turn upon someone his life was already irrevocably bound to? What threat could Silco have represented, that death was the only way to handle him? Certainly, Set sees death as the only way to end him — but, it is born of the muddled respect he has for an implacable man. He only thinks of who he is. A difficult man, but one that Set — oddly admires. ]

If I were to, [ he swallows, and hostility ( how dare you, audacious human ) blooms briefly within him, ] look after her life, you would be asking me to abandon my own child in favor of yours. If she can only exist in Zenith's future, I cannot do that. But. If you think, for a moment, that Meridian's victory [ there is no 'if' between them, only deals to be struck, ground to be covered ] could also be a life she thrives in, destroys and runs heedless and free throughout — you know I would love her like my own.

[ Chaos. Strife. If anything, Jinx sounds more like a child of his than his own son — whom he wanted a long, beautiful life for. Because he would never ask his child to change his stripes, and he was born of a gentle mother. Anubis would never survive Zaun, but neither would he yield to the ideal of Piltover. Perhaps that was why he reigned now as the god of death itself, haunting and harrowing to deal with. ]

Silco. As you describe her, I is impossible to think I could not love her, in the way that you would never love my own child.

[zauneyete]

[ It likely said a lot, that Silco had not considered offing Yima -- or that it wasn't his first choice. He was not one to simply accept leadership, but he had not been fully done wrong by Yima, and she had... certainly been upset, by the prospect that Jinx had left. She'd given him gifts, after all, and asked him to make monsters. He doesn't share this with Set, it is not the secrets he keeps that he fears being unleashed.

He does not fret about Set knowing that, if he finds it. It is his, and he does not spread it, but it is not a secret that he closely guards, like his daughter.

Set is true, that he could never love his son like he does his daughter -- Silco does not like anyone like he does his daughter. There is something to be said, for finding your child in the moments after [[something]] betrayed in the aftermath. Something about finding someone just as hurt as you, and taking them in, even though Silco had never thought of himself as the type to be a parent. Unlike Set, he was not married, he had never really -- well. Being betrayed by someone who had been like your brother certainly axes any ability to trust in the future, and Silco had revenge to plot, besides, it had never been a concern.

But... ] I am not asking you to... give up your own goals. Any more than you would ask me to give up mine, or favor your child over mine.

[ No, not that. As much as he knew they would oppose each other, in the end, as much as he knew that they would be foes, when the end came, only one would be the victor. He knew this, and he wanted it to be Zenith. He would do everything in his power to make it so. ]

I am asking, that in the event of... [ The unthinkable. Meridian's victory -- perhaps even Zenith's, if Set faltered, or if Yima found it in her heart to bring the Meridian to this new world as well. He had spent little time thinking about this perfect world they all so desired... ]

A result, in which you live, and I do not. If it is possible...

[ He does not ask Set to raise her. She is free, independent and strong. She is wild and untamed, his daughter. She would likely kill him on the spot for asking this, or at least threaten, and then cease talking to him for weeks on end, until Silco made it up to her. ]

Well. I would ask that you give thought to her, in the case that forces greater than I, or her, could weather. We would need your consideration.

[ His fingers twitch, uncontrolled.

He does not want to think of a Meridian victory, even as a part of him that he loathes -- that this sap wants him to consider -- sings with agreement. He wishes for a Zenith victory, and he has done everything in his capability to amass power, to ensure that when his daughter is unleashed on this new world, she will have a playground to make of it.

But there are no guarantees. Silco needs to strike deals, to ensure the foundation. Set is one among many, he considers, but an important one. ]

[redsoil]

[ Yeah. To Set, who is unaware, it would say that Silco is not truly invested in his goal of ultimate destruction. To the Meridian that hums within the god, it is knowing: why would Silco not truly safeguard his child against the harmony found in Zenith? The harmony that would seek to stifle her, when he is gone and can do nothing for her but hope his machinations last into a future he cannot ascertain. ( Meridian sparks wicked within Set, calling on him to drag Silco to his side. To remind him that it is not just Zenith that could serve his every end, not with Set there. Zenith is not active destruction. It is just acceptance of destruction made by other hands, after all. Chaos only exists because imperfect places exist for it to flourish. )

Set jerks his fingers back, to rip the connection that threatens to build between them away. Hateful and sudden of the way the opposing energies seek to speak to one another, to duel for artificial ideologies that ought not define the natural world. In Communion, there might be a note of apology. A rueful thing that snaps and bites at the energies within him and commands them not to ruin this moment he seeks control over, with Silco. It is the same spark of violence within him that he had focused not upon the man he could easily overpower and betray, but the forces that attempted to drive him to act. Even if he would act, he did not appreciate being twisted into some other shape.

Osiris had tried that, after all. ] You know I will. Have I not already vowed to do all within my power to safeguard your wild Zaun? Why would I turn away from your daughter, whom embodies that world? I would do it with her, Silco.

[ He hates that he would say such a thing, but a girl as destructive and wild as Jinx does not deserve one Zenite-pure world to unleash herself on. She deserves to be upheld as a beacon upon which all worlds should be her playground to. How short-sighted and selfish of Silco, he thinks, to entrap her in a single cage, when she could have infinite room instead.

Still, as he curls his hand to his chest and contains the Meridian that seeks its opposite, seeks to coerce Silco, he murmurs: ] And because we understand and know one another, you know I will ask you: what would you possibly pay me with — to do this thing? I know what this is. A deal made on tenuous grounds, a long span of time than even the one we struck before. You want my immediate vow, and you want my consideration into that possible future. That is a very high price, and your mortal soul already belongs to Sebastian.

[ There are no guarantees. Set needs to strike deals, to ensure the foundation. Silco is one among many, he considers, but an important one.

( He knows, what he might ask for. He wants to know Silco's thoughts first. ) ]

[zauneyete]

[ Silco does not have himself to give. Not now, and perhaps not ever. He is promised to Sebastian in a way that the god could not circumvent, and likely would not choose to, given the way the two of them spoke to one another, and interacted. It was... interesting was the nice way to put it, and he knew better than to offer what he could not give. Silco would be nothing in the end, if he made it that far. He wished to allow the reverberations of his presence echo, but would it truly do so? Or would he merely fade into nothingness and obscurity, revenge all that was left for him to achieve, and nothing more?

He hated that, just as much. He wanted power, he wanted the pursuit of it, and the achievement of it to be his legacy. Shimmer was only a part, of course. He wanted to see this world fall apart, crumbling at the foundation and the shockwaves of power taking it down by the seams. In the end, he cared for Zenith only as a vehicle of destruction, of finding a way to destroy, because he did not believe this world would be perfect that they would achieve. If it was, Jinx would perfect it, make it whole and chaotic and rife with chaos, and she would destroy it from within if it was found wanting.

Set pulled away, and there's biting, thrashing within communion. Did he think to try to corrupt him? Him? Silco did not rush forward, but he reached out again to take Set's hand in his, his teeth bared. ]

Do not try to spare me your convictions, Set. If you think I am so weak in my own devotion to Zenith, you will find your efforts wasted. I want this Meridian out. I will hold fast against whatever you try to corrupt me with.

[ He had no doubts. None. And that Set would try to pull him away from that snapping beast that lurked, he wanted to wrest it from him personally. Pull that monster free and unleash it on the shard-bearers within here like a violent, snapping thing. He wanted it to bite the hands that fed it, and lay waste to them. What did he care about this world? What did he care about the rest of theirs? Even Set's -- but he withheld that thought, kept it close -- for he knew now, that the man was motivated in the same way he was.

Would he not have turned the world asunder if the Sister had reappeared, and turned Jinx against him? Would he not have given anything to see her back? Even revived Piltover, just for the chance of it? Would he havethe chance, if he were there? No, this is better, freed of Vi and whatever filth and nonsense she would have tried to sway Jinx with, and he knew his daughter, he knew she would, because Vi did what Vander neverfind her, and not just to kill her again.

There would be apologies for Jinx, where there never would be for Silco, and he could not allow that. It was just them, after all. It would always be just them. ]

I would help make you a monster, Set. Find the power that lies here, and help you achieve it. I want to see this chaos you promise us come to the fullness of its power. [ He wants to corrupt him, bring him to Zenith, but even if he does not --

With their hands rejoined, he uses communion to speak the words now, lest Sebastian overhear this. ] I would aid you in this, for the price of watching over my daughter when I am not able to.

[redsoil]

[ What does it mean, to be seized by the hand of a man who despises contact?

Set wields his body as a weapon, a reward. His utility is pure in nature, obvious in its vast adaptability; he is a combatant, an object to despise or desire, a gift to be bestowed upon the faithful and a nightmare to unleash upon the faithless. He is a man, just another man, who cannot bear the touch of others — so, he lunges into contact to wield it as one more form of dominance and control. When they had first met, he had touched the scar on Silco's face — and the reaction had been explosive. He wonders now, if he were to touch him, if the reaction would be exactly the same.

Caught in that grasp, he twists himself towards Silco. The teeth he had turned upon his own muddled energies lunging mentally ( physically, briefly flashing between his snarling lips and hateful, animal eyes — ) towards a man who was telling him that he was incorruptible. Part of him wants to test that claim. It feels like a challenge, and Set thinks — perhaps, he is the only one who could truly rise to meet it. ]

I do not think you weak. I just think, [ a slow, methodical pause: ] you would have been even more powerful, with me.

[ That is not to say, without Sebastian's contract. He will not threaten that, because he requires Sebastian in his own ways — they are alike, dangerous in their utility, and he wishes to learn. More than he wishes to threaten the demon's meal, or rob him of his work. It is why he does not seek to free Silco of that bargain, for he had made his choices as all humans had been born to do. He will outlive him, and Set knows — he will mourn him. ]

Ah.

[ Drawn in, the words that pass between them are ones that he schools his expression against. How ironic, that it is a human who promises a god power, in this moment. Yet, Set cannot deny that he craves it; he already has the power to break what must be broken, but what he wants most is — to be wanted. Acknowledged. Looked upon as something one is incapable of tearing their eye from, hated and perhaps, shamefully loved.

It is an enticing deal. A bargain struck, in exchange for his vow to watch over Jinx in Silco's eventual absence. The vastness of his eternity spreads before him, still; to shepherd her is one thing, but to do so ad infinitum? That is where the price increases, exponentially. Thankfully, Set is smarter than he is greedy. ]

As partners? [ Not just two men who will undoubtedly use one another, but

equals. ]

[zauneyete]

[ He may have been, but Silco does not play games about what "could" have been, for if he did, would he not be stuck eternally looking back, even more than he does. Even more than he should. It haunts him, his past, but thinking about what did not happen, that was the way of futility. He was shaped by his past, it hounded and haunted, but he did not spend time on what ifs, just on what had. He does not regret accepting Sebastian's deal, save for the fact that he may never get to see his daughter again, but there was no guarantee of that regardless.

He hated more than he loved and accepting Sebastian's deal had been something he'd made while she was here --

He never had the chance to say goodbye? --

It's an uncontrolled, stray thought that Set is given, but he thinks that Set would understand this, the one regret Silco had, in that he would never tell his daughter anything again. She was gone from this realm, and he did not dare hope. Did not dare ask for her to be returned to this nightmare again. She deserved better, a world that would -- accept her, and that is the only input Silco has on this "perfect" world that he does not think will exist, and does not bank on existing.

There are too many factors, too many people. He thinks, in the end, it will simply be a world, wild and chaotic. Perhaps completely, and utterly out of control. ]

Perhaps, but there is no shame in what I have promised. Would you not do the same, if it were you in my place?

[ Osiris here, instead of Vander? Would he not have made that choice? Silco thinks that Set would see the logic in this decision. ]

As partners. We are monsters, Set, let us find the ways to grow. Aside from our conflict, that is written in stone. Zenith and Meridian will fight, and we have already pledged to fight not until the end. Let us grow more monstrous for our respective factions together, and find our battle in the end one to make the rest of them quake.

[ Silco's hand tightened on Set's now. That promise, that there was a bridged divide between them. Silco was not as touch-averse as he promised, but letting people close invited danger. By touching Set in this way, holding his hand, he said that he found that the danger was worth chancing, to find the path which they could tread together. ]

[redsoil]

[ Like an overripe fruit, Set seizes at that stray thought. ( A goodbye that would never be said. ) Even though it splits in his grasp, it is a thing he tucks away into the depths of his mind — among the other stray thoughts, throw-away comments, glancing blows and rapidly-hidden expressions he watches for. It goes to the place where Set hoards things, his own conquests and spoils, and sometimes sifts his fingers through to feel something, anything. The prerogative of a god, unfathomable and otherworldly in his own psychology.

If Zenith's hopes make a world that is beyond chaotic, he thinks he could enjoy it. Less so than his own enjoyment, he thinks — with Anubis, with Horus, he could find something to accept about it. Yet, the allure of hundreds, thousands, millions of worlds that glisten and gleam upon his mother's body, her starlit skin full of the distant dead ( souls, and were those souls, perhaps, not worlds? ) — and the idea that Zenith's world could be sterilized by their leader, whom loves without pity or passion, and made clean, pristine... useless? That is anathema to him.

With him, they could do it. Without him, he knows they are delusional. Only one of their visions will win out, he thinks. ]

I would still be where I stand, if I were in your place.

[ Because Osiris, with his peerless stance and dark eyes, would take Yima's hand. And briefly, in Silco's mind — those fathomless, pitiless eyes look upon him with true apathy. With the eyes of someone who would ignore Silco's clawing, Silco's wrath, and find nothing in it at all. The same eyes that would look upon Set, softened and creased at the corners. Warm. ( Hungry. Possessive. ) His own 'Vander' does not want him dead. He just wants him, however possible. And Yima would give him that.

He dips into Communion, pushing his hand deeper into Silco's grasp. Seizing him up, reaching for the Meridian within him — demanding it, commanding it to come to him. Silco does not want it, nor need it. Thus, it belongs to Set. Meridian must come to heel, and leave this man. ]

I really do like you. [ He says. Without fanfare, without guile. Because Silco is right, and his thoughts have always been Set's own — they will become monsters, glutted upon power and they will gladly watch the horror in their own faction's eyes as they continue on their paths. Their paths, though... require, that Set forever remain where he is. Silco, for all he stands firm with Zenith, could do the same with Meridian; like a whisper, like cool shadow cast by the brightest ray, Set assures him of that, not to ask him for hope, but to tuck it into a pocket. A dark favor. A bitter candy. A ravenous opportunity.

His gaze, settled upon the join of their hands, flicks up. Heedless and burning direct, as he slides his other hand — his free one — across the space between them, to press his fingers, his palm, the whole of his burning touch, to the scar on Silco's face. ]

As partners, then.

[zauneyete]

[ 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. ]