Well, figured not. [ He responds to Silco’s expectations with a laugh. ] It’s “my” culture, but it’s still old-fashioned, even for me. But it seemed like the most apt thing.
[ It’s a complicated thing about Tezcatlipoca that he’s not sure anyone had fully understood. Daybit might have, if he’d been able to. But Tezcatlipoca is a god that can’t look back. The fact that the Aztecs and all their predecessors had been essentially lost was a damn shame, sure… But he still embraced the world that replaced it. He loves the craft that led him to make his shield. But it’s also a symbol of change… Or perhaps a lack thereof. If Quetzalcoatl had taken Silco seriously, then perhaps she wouldn’t have met her fate.
This, of course, is nothing he explains.
Instead, he kicks back and takes a drink of the tequila. ]
Black is me. I am Yoalli Ehécatl, the night wind, Tloque Nahuaque, the one who owns what surrounds you, Yaotzin, the venerable enemy, Icnoacatzintli, the merciful.
[ He rattles off the epithets easily, and there’s a sense that even those are just a selection of many with how his tone lazily moves through them. He even gives a little flourish of his hands as if he might take a bow, were he standing, but it comes with a laugh. ]
Not to bore ya with the theology, but all comes from me, bossman. I am the almighty god of my lands, and even Quetzalcoatl wouldn’t exist if she weren’t an aspect of yours truly. So. Bit on the nose, sure, but the dark eating up the resplendent felt damn good, so far as artistry goes, yeah?
no subject
[ It’s a complicated thing about Tezcatlipoca that he’s not sure anyone had fully understood. Daybit might have, if he’d been able to. But Tezcatlipoca is a god that can’t look back. The fact that the Aztecs and all their predecessors had been essentially lost was a damn shame, sure… But he still embraced the world that replaced it. He loves the craft that led him to make his shield. But it’s also a symbol of change… Or perhaps a lack thereof. If Quetzalcoatl had taken Silco seriously, then perhaps she wouldn’t have met her fate.
This, of course, is nothing he explains.
Instead, he kicks back and takes a drink of the tequila. ]
Black is me. I am Yoalli Ehécatl, the night wind, Tloque Nahuaque, the one who owns what surrounds you, Yaotzin, the venerable enemy, Icnoacatzintli, the merciful.
[ He rattles off the epithets easily, and there’s a sense that even those are just a selection of many with how his tone lazily moves through them. He even gives a little flourish of his hands as if he might take a bow, were he standing, but it comes with a laugh. ]
Not to bore ya with the theology, but all comes from me, bossman. I am the almighty god of my lands, and even Quetzalcoatl wouldn’t exist if she weren’t an aspect of yours truly. So. Bit on the nose, sure, but the dark eating up the resplendent felt damn good, so far as artistry goes, yeah?