I should like to learn more, (voryn concludes, taking set's hand as they make their way to the fringe of the below where it's darker, cooler, and richerโnot in currency but in colour.) We will speak of these things and of Meridian, as there is much to know and I have only just arrived in Springstar.
(voryn the washes of red momentarily bring him home, drifting through hanging tapestries he would like to purchase to drape himself and his walls in. set's fingers have been redirected courteously to his forearm, his own resting over the backs of pale knuckles. this old-fashioned etiquette lasts until they reach the tavern, where they must separate to enter. its narrow foyer leads into a larger chamber bustling with patrons and yet virtually noiseless for all the whispering being done among seatmates. little of it carries to the nook set apart from the rest of the main chambers. its atmospheric smoke still coils in, some lungfuls floral and some spiced with narcotics being passed just beyond their walls.
voryn shares a corner seat a cushion away from set and speaks at length to the god of his great-grandmother. in his hand is a far stronger beverage than the wine offered above, and while the taste isn't the quality he's come to expect from his family's own brandy, the burn is similar and satisfying. it's sweeter than other spirits but oaky from the barrel it was aged in, a taste that sits on the back of his tongue to linger until his head is lighter and his gestures are more pronounced.)
Lord Set, you mentioned creation before and that the reason for it all was Ra, your honourable great-grandmother. This tells me that our realities must be different, for unless she bears many other names, I have heard no tales of herโcreation gods, certainly, even war gods like you. But if she could weave something into being in a Void so vast, our people would revere her.
(the only lean voryn makes is one that'll bring him closer to the bottle so that he may pour more into set's glass.)
I do not doubt her existence, no, no. My House is secular, however, and does not worship any concepts but philosophy, art, and diplomacy. We believe in creating things on our own.
ittiest bittiest timeskip
(voryn the washes of red momentarily bring him home, drifting through hanging tapestries he would like to purchase to drape himself and his walls in. set's fingers have been redirected courteously to his forearm, his own resting over the backs of pale knuckles. this old-fashioned etiquette lasts until they reach the tavern, where they must separate to enter. its narrow foyer leads into a larger chamber bustling with patrons and yet virtually noiseless for all the whispering being done among seatmates. little of it carries to the nook set apart from the rest of the main chambers. its atmospheric smoke still coils in, some lungfuls floral and some spiced with narcotics being passed just beyond their walls.
voryn shares a corner seat a cushion away from set and speaks at length to the god of his great-grandmother. in his hand is a far stronger beverage than the wine offered above, and while the taste isn't the quality he's come to expect from his family's own brandy, the burn is similar and satisfying. it's sweeter than other spirits but oaky from the barrel it was aged in, a taste that sits on the back of his tongue to linger until his head is lighter and his gestures are more pronounced.)
Lord Set, you mentioned creation before and that the reason for it all was Ra, your honourable great-grandmother. This tells me that our realities must be different, for unless she bears many other names, I have heard no tales of herโcreation gods, certainly, even war gods like you. But if she could weave something into being in a Void so vast, our people would revere her.
(the only lean voryn makes is one that'll bring him closer to the bottle so that he may pour more into set's glass.)
I do not doubt her existence, no, no. My House is secular, however, and does not worship any concepts but philosophy, art, and diplomacy. We believe in creating things on our own.