Khonshu. ( marc takes a step forward and, for a moment, almost looks confused even as the tone of his voice implies 'who else?'. khonshu, though in recent years, has settled firmly on one specific form with which he appears to marc as, it's not an appearance to which he's confined. whilst set, then, does not have the appearance of the set with which marc knows, it's not anything that stands out as strange or unusual. what is, then, is everything else.
the rhythmic clicks of set's claws breaks the silence between remarks, breaks the silence as marc listens and looks and weighs verbal responses against what he knows (thinks? believes?). set's offer sits in stark contrast with everything of the gods marc has ever experienced: khonshu seeks to protect the travellers of the night, of course, there is no doubt about his commitment to that endeavour, but the how is blood-covered, shiny and wet with demands for hearts and sacrifices, for bodies. for murderers and the worst-of-the-worst. whilst khonshu strives to protect the innocent, it is not with innocence and set—
has never been any different, though marc's knowledge of the ennead is limited in scope. he's never been one to sit down with a book and learn, engross himself in knowledge. he is the tool, the blunt instrument and that's why he's here, regardless of what set might think, might expect of yima and her people.
(marc is both one of hers and he's not. he's khonshu's first and foremost, and if the god were to speak to him now, to whisper in his ear and demand retribution, marc would do it without a second thought because for all else he might complain, for all else that he might detest the work that khonshu puts him to, it's what he's good at. without it, he's nothing.)
marc looks towards the unmoving, still body of the beast set had thrown his way. he lifts his shoulders in a shrug, a perfect picture of disinterest and— ) Killing time? ( he suggests though it's clear it's not an answer meant in earnest. )
no subject
the rhythmic clicks of set's claws breaks the silence between remarks, breaks the silence as marc listens and looks and weighs verbal responses against what he knows (thinks? believes?). set's offer sits in stark contrast with everything of the gods marc has ever experienced: khonshu seeks to protect the travellers of the night, of course, there is no doubt about his commitment to that endeavour, but the how is blood-covered, shiny and wet with demands for hearts and sacrifices, for bodies. for murderers and the worst-of-the-worst. whilst khonshu strives to protect the innocent, it is not with innocence and set—
has never been any different, though marc's knowledge of the ennead is limited in scope. he's never been one to sit down with a book and learn, engross himself in knowledge. he is the tool, the blunt instrument and that's why he's here, regardless of what set might think, might expect of yima and her people.
(marc is both one of hers and he's not. he's khonshu's first and foremost, and if the god were to speak to him now, to whisper in his ear and demand retribution, marc would do it without a second thought because for all else he might complain, for all else that he might detest the work that khonshu puts him to, it's what he's good at. without it, he's nothing.)
marc looks towards the unmoving, still body of the beast set had thrown his way. he lifts his shoulders in a shrug, a perfect picture of disinterest and— ) Killing time? ( he suggests though it's clear it's not an answer meant in earnest. )