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[sterngaze]

Liem Talbott

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Liem's mindscape is dark; quiet; contemplative. Any feelings or sensations that Liem doesn't intentionally project himself seem distant, as though echoing from a far-off room. Following any given sense to its source is bafflingly difficult.

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[redsoil]

[ There is a miserable sort of fondness in him; an ache, as he finds himself increasingly attached to lives he never really would have, had he never come to Kenos. He finds most people difficult to settle with, to find something within them that resonates strongly and invites his attention. Whatever Liem Talbott is made of, it sinks within him easily and simply. Causes his chest to constrict and his heart to flutter, as he slides his hands down to Liem's waist, to his hips. Pushes himself into him and spreads him back against his own mattress. ]

Are you still haunted by what you see in the shadows, Liem?

[ By his father, he means. By someone who sounds so like Osiris.

The non sequitur might seem abrupt, but Set's mind has always juggled multiple things with ease. And he flits from topic to topic without a break in his own logic, sweeping his warm hands across Liem's belly as he bows his head into those cool fingers, touching him gently. Another kiss, and he extends a hand out to the empty space in the room — curling his fingers as a burst of Meridian's light flickers in his eyes. Soft starlight begins to illuminate the room, the scent of foreign spices and the murmur of a voice — a woman's deep, husky voice singing a lullaby in a foreign, dead language. ]

I will stay. I do not think I can sleep, but — my thoughts are quieter, with you.

[sterngaze]

[It is true: Liem does not expect Set to bring up the shade of his father, now of all times. He does not like to think of him at moments like this, when he is in the arms of another, with lips warm against his skin. He does not like to think of him, because his father has invaded even moments such as these, making Liem doubt the privacy of his own intimate moments, the trustworthiness of his own lovers. Easier not to have any, when paranoia was the alternative.

The hand in Set’s hair stills, for just a moment. He reminds himself that if anyone would be beyond the powers of a mortal man — even one lingering beyond death — to sway, to claim, to end, Set must be one such person. Though he shows a most disconcertingly human-like vulnerability to being tricked and used.]

I still fear to see him.

[There appears to be no rhyme or reason to which people are caught by the Tree of Life and pulled to Kenos to be born. He has no reason to expect Iago to appear — but also no reason to be sure he will not. So Springstar’s gathering shadows make him nervous, no matter how much he tries to avoid turning his thoughts that direction.

His other hand sweeps around to Set’s back, his arm wrapping around him to keep him there.]

But not right now.

[redsoil]

[ Perhaps that is why Set asks. Because in moments like these, he is haunted and stalked by a man who lied to him from the dawn of time; a man who led him to believe that he was pleased by him and happy for him, when really he coveted Set and conspired to possess him. He finds it hard to trust, when the back of his mind still whispers in Osiris's voice. When he is still a liar, a cast-aside god bearing the brand and domain of evil. ]

When you are afraid or in pain, call to me. I was — once, I was a protector god. I may be evil now, but sometimes my body remembers.

[ He would come to Liem's side: a guardian, who had burned bright and fierce in defense of those who dwelled in Egypt. Great and small, old and newborn. He had traveled far and wide in the world he'd known, and met with other pantheons to broker agreements and do battle with their armies when needed. He had never wanted to conquer, only protect. To challenge and thwart, through might and trickery and negotiation.

He tips down toward Liem, bracing his warm weight across him as he kisses across his mouth, his cheek and to the space next to the crease of his eye. A hand sweeps down his body, broadly spreading across his thigh. ( You can be insatiable for me, he thinks within his mind, in Communion directed into Liem's own. A favored thing of his: talking aloud and between minds, simultaneously and effortlessly. I know you are greedy and wanton, and I adore it. ) ]

I could remember it better, for you.

[sterngaze]

[Liem submits so easily to the press of Set’s weight against him and the wandering of his mouth over his face. Tension leaves him like a long-held breath, relieving some urgent vigilance kept close all throughout his waking hours and even into the shallow sleep that passes for his nightly rest. Perhaps it is no wonder he often seems a little weary, given how foreign relaxation truly is to him — but now, in the desert god’s company, he falls into, if not true ease, then some close approximation of it. Without conscious thought, the mantle of his wariness slips from him, set aside for the night.

And still, even in the midst of his soft-edged contentment, even in the privacy of his home, the words Set slips to him in the privacy of his mind still make him flush; because they are true, and because acknowledging his want makes him feel more naked than he already is in his state of half-dress. Liem’s fingers curl in Set’s hair, a little covetously, and he tips his face against the crook of neck and shoulder, pressing a cool, lingering kiss there to disguise his sudden embarrassment. His brows frown a little over Set’s shoulder.]

You would come for me?

[This seems a greedy thought to entertain; the idea that Set might speed to his aid, if only he were to ask. Though gods know, Liem is terrible at asking.]

[redsoil]

Yes, I would.

[ Set's hands trace the cool, pale skin of Liem's chest; his fingers trace around the shape of his Shard, the end of a well-kept nail flirting with the edges of it. His own Shard is bare upon his chest when the tumble of his hair and the heavy weight of gold jewelry shifts aside — an unpolished gash of red jasper like a laceration over his heart.

He bends his head, and presses a soft, brief kiss to the lovely compass points embedded in Liem's chest. Hands in his hair can be alarming, but Liem has never pulled at him with harsh intentions. Even if he had, it would be a matter of correcting the injury — to be able to keep him. ]

I am here, real and yours. I will listen attentively for your voice.

[ Pain still lances within him, but slowly, Set pours himself into bed alongside Liem; he rests on his side, hand stroking across bare skin and up into Liem's hair, thumbing against the corner of his eye and the arch of his cheek. ]

In this — I get to choose you, as you get to choose me.

[sterngaze]

[There is a strange and unfamiliar vulnerability inherent to letting another person touch the crystallized shard embedded in his chest. Liem’s breath stills in his lungs as warm lips caress the many-pointed edges; his fingers slide through the crimson fall of Set’s hair to trace the shell of his ear.

He has still not figured out what he is meant to be to Set, nor what exactly the god wishes from him when he calls him friend and seeks to keep him close. But he knows that he wants what he is offered in return.]

I will call to you, then.

[Sometimes. When the struggle he contends with is one that he can bear for another to witness. That is all he can really guarantee for now; he hopes it will suffice.

Shifting, Liem turns to fit himself against the other man, arm about him and body pressed close, legs twining with Set’s bare ones. Seeking his warmth.]

And I hope that you will call me sometimes, also.

[Even if he is just a man, and he cannot offer any more than a mortal is capable of giving. Like he is doing now. But mortal hands and mortal wishes have always been the only thing he had for his own god, so he knows that gods desire such things.]