[ In his core, he knows better than to wail against Anubis's involvement. This is war, and he knows all of the rotten things people will do to gain power and become victorious in war. As a war god, he is so infinitely pleased to see the lengths to which people will go — it fuels him, feeds him, empowers him! And as a father, he wants nothing more than to see his child left innocent of it. Not used ( again ), not abused ( again ), not made to suffer ( again ) for the crimes and failures and weaknesses of his father.
Set holds handfuls of his hair, winding his fingers into the red length like he needs to grasp something to ground himself. Tugging at the roots inflicts a little burst of steadying pain, better for him now than it would be to slip into his favored seat in the alleys of the Last Dance and imbibing drink and drug until his mind was faded and rotten. His teeth work at his lip, even as he hears the sound of Liem shifting below his covers.
Slowly, he peers through strands of red — an injured beast unwilling to slow down, unwilling to rest because it feels unsafe. ]
He is the reason I did not go to Zenith, at the start.
[ With Liem, he feels he can be honest. ]
We made a promise to one another. That I would atone for my crimes against the natural order, and he would wait. He would wait for me to "come home". I am not capable of being Meridian, without that promise. I am false.
[ A fake, a heretic, something waiting to betray everyone.
Even Liem, who he steps closer to. Whom he settles on the edge of the bed next to, subdued and wrung out. ]
Do not be sorry for what you did. It is the nature of war, to use and be used. And I am a magnificent weapon, whether I am willing to be wielded or unwilling.
no subject
Set holds handfuls of his hair, winding his fingers into the red length like he needs to grasp something to ground himself. Tugging at the roots inflicts a little burst of steadying pain, better for him now than it would be to slip into his favored seat in the alleys of the Last Dance and imbibing drink and drug until his mind was faded and rotten. His teeth work at his lip, even as he hears the sound of Liem shifting below his covers.
Slowly, he peers through strands of red — an injured beast unwilling to slow down, unwilling to rest because it feels unsafe. ]
He is the reason I did not go to Zenith, at the start.
[ With Liem, he feels he can be honest. ]
We made a promise to one another. That I would atone for my crimes against the natural order, and he would wait. He would wait for me to "come home". I am not capable of being Meridian, without that promise. I am false.
[ A fake, a heretic, something waiting to betray everyone.
Even Liem, who he steps closer to. Whom he settles on the edge of the bed next to, subdued and wrung out. ]
Do not be sorry for what you did. It is the nature of war, to use and be used. And I am a magnificent weapon, whether I am willing to be wielded or unwilling.