[ Tyki has caught him in the most indulgent of moods, willing to welcome new arrivals in a manner most unbecoming to some.
The presence of the beast within him ( that is? him? ) is of utmost curiosity, and the respect that has been shown in the face of Set's divine nature pleases him. The devout, even if they are given to other gods, have been the few who look upon him and nod, agreeable and not at all argumentative of his existence. It sates the deep, unhappy thing within him, that has been simmering in resentment for some time -- that will continue to simmer, should the truth continue to be questioned by unbelievers.
He coils into one of the fat cushions, lined in red-and-gold just like him, and pillows his cheek into the palm of one hand. Drinks will arrive as an opener, and requests be taken afterwards, in this long alleyway filled to bursting with color and scented smoke. The heavy curtain that leads deeper into the Last Dance's network of eclectic venues and artistry keeps the heady scents within the area, and Set gestures to the drink, to the long stem of the smoking pipe that sits upon the tray brought to serve them. ]
They don't.
[ Maybe once, they did, when he was a protector-god and not the divine marshal of combat. ]
They pray to sate me, to beg me not to draw their loved ones into battle in the first place. They call upon the goddess of peace, to soothe me. How would you show your god respect, perhaps that would suffice.
no subject
The presence of the beast within him ( that is? him? ) is of utmost curiosity, and the respect that has been shown in the face of Set's divine nature pleases him. The devout, even if they are given to other gods, have been the few who look upon him and nod, agreeable and not at all argumentative of his existence. It sates the deep, unhappy thing within him, that has been simmering in resentment for some time -- that will continue to simmer, should the truth continue to be questioned by unbelievers.
He coils into one of the fat cushions, lined in red-and-gold just like him, and pillows his cheek into the palm of one hand. Drinks will arrive as an opener, and requests be taken afterwards, in this long alleyway filled to bursting with color and scented smoke. The heavy curtain that leads deeper into the Last Dance's network of eclectic venues and artistry keeps the heady scents within the area, and Set gestures to the drink, to the long stem of the smoking pipe that sits upon the tray brought to serve them. ]
They don't.
[ Maybe once, they did, when he was a protector-god and not the divine marshal of combat. ]
They pray to sate me, to beg me not to draw their loved ones into battle in the first place. They call upon the goddess of peace, to soothe me. How would you show your god respect, perhaps that would suffice.