[ He had seen Gen and Amos's ambush from a distance, and derived his own tactic in response to their known skills and teamwork. Flight. Earth-manipulation. ( Envy simmers within him, embittered and hungry and resentful towards Amos. How dare he pretend he felt anything for Gen, how dare he lie to him about feeling joy and care and consideration for him when Set knows he's nothing. He has no sentiment, unless he is told to feel it, no ambition or drive, unless he is told to have it.
How dare he lead Gen on. How dare Gen laugh with him. He was only where he belonged because Set aided him to that place, released him, poured energy into him and helped him be reborn. Maybe he's a little mad about that, a little wild, feral. )
Feral enough, that when he feels the prick of Dimitri's voice, Hayame's proof of presence enter his mind, he immediately slams his thoughts shut to them. Neither one of them is Savant, they cannot find their way into his head unless he allows them. And in the clearing, holding Amos's bloodied shotgun in one hand and the prism in the other, Set's expression is quiet and inscrutable. He could do anything, inanimate and calm as he appears. There's nothing to give away, except the way he lifts the hand holding the prism to wipe at a fleck of blood on his face. He's stained with it. Old blood mingling with new, Gen's and Liem's both. ]
And?
[ His voice is crisp, his lip curls and the sharp hint of animal fang shows threateningly. ]
no subject
How dare he lead Gen on. How dare Gen laugh with him. He was only where he belonged because Set aided him to that place, released him, poured energy into him and helped him be reborn. Maybe he's a little mad about that, a little wild, feral. )
Feral enough, that when he feels the prick of Dimitri's voice, Hayame's proof of presence enter his mind, he immediately slams his thoughts shut to them. Neither one of them is Savant, they cannot find their way into his head unless he allows them. And in the clearing, holding Amos's bloodied shotgun in one hand and the prism in the other, Set's expression is quiet and inscrutable. He could do anything, inanimate and calm as he appears. There's nothing to give away, except the way he lifts the hand holding the prism to wipe at a fleck of blood on his face. He's stained with it. Old blood mingling with new, Gen's and Liem's both. ]
And?
[ His voice is crisp, his lip curls and the sharp hint of animal fang shows threateningly. ]
You had better not think that I did this for you.