[ Akua thrives on knowledge, and Set's own ravenous nature is one that she has often indulged in herself. Between her and the Hierophant, it's a wonder anyone ever left a room with the two of them in it without having their brains turned to paste. Catherine seemed to think it had been like being in a room with two people who spoke in code. The words themselves (mostly) made sense, but the arrangement of them didn't.
So even as her hands move, her eyes half-mast, she replies, her tone even, almost amused.
The thirst for knowledge, she understood, her own hunger for what Set's world and godhood were like something that she deeply wished to question, and would, given time. After all, gods were her...realm now, weren't they?
In a way, of course. ]
No, if I had not been drawn here, I would not be a god. My dear friend had been obsessed with apotheosis, not I. [ A tight smile. Perhaps... perhaps, if she had been younger, been given more time, found that Dread Empress had been something that bored her -- perhaps she would have followed in the wake of Dread Empress Triumphant, but she had not sought godhood either, even though she had been Neshemah's superior. She had stormed the hells themselves and vanished.
Then again, perhaps she'd found the gods below, for all her mighty campaigning. ] I would have been... An Intercessor. That is what we often called my...newfound twin. [ They were not Twins. The Wandering Bard -- the Intercessor -- had been as eternal as the Dead King. But now she was Providence, her role split, to give way for Calamity. ] Not for Gods of Calernia, or Creation, but for the Gods Below. The ones that cannot touch the fabric of reality directly, and therefore require...a unique touch.
[ A beat, and her hands moved, gently, as if she were pulling them out. } I can do it to living things, although I am no healer, but closer to a chiurgeon if I must. It is mentally taxing, and perhaps a touch exhausting after many hours of it -- but once I acquire food and rest, I am quite fine.
no subject
So even as her hands move, her eyes half-mast, she replies, her tone even, almost amused.
The thirst for knowledge, she understood, her own hunger for what Set's world and godhood were like something that she deeply wished to question, and would, given time. After all, gods were her...realm now, weren't they?
In a way, of course. ]
No, if I had not been drawn here, I would not be a god. My dear friend had been obsessed with apotheosis, not I. [ A tight smile. Perhaps... perhaps, if she had been younger, been given more time, found that Dread Empress had been something that bored her -- perhaps she would have followed in the wake of Dread Empress Triumphant, but she had not sought godhood either, even though she had been Neshemah's superior. She had stormed the hells themselves and vanished.
Then again, perhaps she'd found the gods below, for all her mighty campaigning. ] I would have been... An Intercessor. That is what we often called my...newfound twin. [ They were not Twins. The Wandering Bard -- the Intercessor -- had been as eternal as the Dead King. But now she was Providence, her role split, to give way for Calamity. ] Not for Gods of Calernia, or Creation, but for the Gods Below. The ones that cannot touch the fabric of reality directly, and therefore require...a unique touch.
[ A beat, and her hands moved, gently, as if she were pulling them out. } I can do it to living things, although I am no healer, but closer to a chiurgeon if I must. It is mentally taxing, and perhaps a touch exhausting after many hours of it -- but once I acquire food and rest, I am quite fine.