[ At Yima's side, the long, dark maw of Set's mask slides from where it looks to Gen, toward Amos — because of course Amos would stand on the side of "destroy it". Because whatever it is, it belongs to Set. Nary a smile nor smirk develops on his face though, as he tugs the mask off and coolly regards Amos for a long, long moment. And then, he smiles too — enigmatic, assessing. It's the same smile Yima wears, from time to time. Maybe he's learned it from observing her. Wearing her mask helps steady him, in this frightening, horrible moment.
And his attention turns to Gen, in full. Gen, who he can reach into the heart of. ]
Go on, then. I will take whatever you are choosing to sacrifice, in exchange.
[ Not a crease appears between his brows, and the smile smooths off his face. At his side, he ensures Yima's image remains animate and watchful, her gaze looking from one Shardbearer to another — as if weighing the three of them against one another. Waiting for their choices. ]
You chose Reiji for what is mine. Will you offer him up to me for Amos, or for Zenith's progress? You cannot stretch the worth of what you hold further than what you are willing to lose, my Gen, for an ultimatum only works once. Make sure you've thoroughly considered what you want, and what you can accept being without if you choose to make good on your threat.
[ His words are quiet, but his gaze severe. Set turns on his heel, his hand 'touching' Yima's shoulder as if to assure them that she is really there, that he is really in communication with her. And really, the best lies are built on truths. ( His mouth his dry, his heart hammering, his instincts screaming not to bluff like this with his child on the line. Not before Amos, who will urge Gen to destroy the item simply because it is Set's. Heedless of any bargain between himself and Gen. ) See you soon, Lady Yima, he murmurs to her, to maintain the final stages of his ruse. The nod of her head and a final pass of her gaze across Gen's combative stance and Amos's vulnerable position carries, like she is deciding somethings. Her smile soft and beatific and proud: It was good to observe those who would carry our future, she says, before fading into shadow and starlight.
As he walks away, he throws one last thing to Gen. Ignoring Amos for the moment, as if his existence is an empty, pitiable thing unworthy of his attention or time. There is something simmering, straining in him, one more little slap in the face he wants to deliver to the man — but, first things are first. He pushes into Gen's mind the memory of their limbs entwined, in the roots and in bed, the precious glow of their promise together. The way he whispered that he would adore him for his rot, embrace him for who he was. ]
— I said I wanted you, Gen. That means nothing else in your life matters to me.
no subject
And his attention turns to Gen, in full. Gen, who he can reach into the heart of. ]
Go on, then. I will take whatever you are choosing to sacrifice, in exchange.
[ Not a crease appears between his brows, and the smile smooths off his face. At his side, he ensures Yima's image remains animate and watchful, her gaze looking from one Shardbearer to another — as if weighing the three of them against one another. Waiting for their choices. ]
You chose Reiji for what is mine. Will you offer him up to me for Amos, or for Zenith's progress? You cannot stretch the worth of what you hold further than what you are willing to lose, my Gen, for an ultimatum only works once. Make sure you've thoroughly considered what you want, and what you can accept being without if you choose to make good on your threat.
[ His words are quiet, but his gaze severe. Set turns on his heel, his hand 'touching' Yima's shoulder as if to assure them that she is really there, that he is really in communication with her. And really, the best lies are built on truths. ( His mouth his dry, his heart hammering, his instincts screaming not to bluff like this with his child on the line. Not before Amos, who will urge Gen to destroy the item simply because it is Set's. Heedless of any bargain between himself and Gen. ) See you soon, Lady Yima, he murmurs to her, to maintain the final stages of his ruse. The nod of her head and a final pass of her gaze across Gen's combative stance and Amos's vulnerable position carries, like she is deciding somethings. Her smile soft and beatific and proud: It was good to observe those who would carry our future, she says, before fading into shadow and starlight.
As he walks away, he throws one last thing to Gen. Ignoring Amos for the moment, as if his existence is an empty, pitiable thing unworthy of his attention or time. There is something simmering, straining in him, one more little slap in the face he wants to deliver to the man — but, first things are first. He pushes into Gen's mind the memory of their limbs entwined, in the roots and in bed, the precious glow of their promise together. The way he whispered that he would adore him for his rot, embrace him for who he was. ]
— I said I wanted you, Gen. That means nothing else in your life matters to me.