Funny, is it not? Khonshu's priest and the god of war, both plucked from the end of the world. As if we were the ones worthy of saving.
[ It is terribly ironic, he thinks. They are more than mismatched, they are mis-aligned, wrong for one another in the way that opposing Aspects are. He rolls his wrists, gesturing with open palms and flattened fingers. Invitational, for Marc to look upon him and find something reflected in the nature of them, the fact that they were permitted to continue on existing, while others did not. That there were other, better choices, and yet it is the two of them — a god-less priest and an evil god — allowed to carry on. How fucking stupid. Meeting Marc does not bring him peace or hope, it just makes him angry. And in his anger, he oft becomes cruel, bitter. ]
You know he is dead, right? Khonshu. The world ended, and so did he. The last of the Ennead is me, and the last of anyone you knew is you.
[ For Set, it is absolute that his world met an end. It is preserved, in his opinion, in the last, fleeting moment before it met its destruction — and it is that moment the Oracles will restore it to, will protect from the oncoming entropy that claimed it. He will stand readied, for nothing more than a promise he made. If unable to fulfill it, he will rip the whole, stupid thing into pieces and save what he can, instead. ]
So. Yes, I am killing time. [ He walks, to the beast he had thrown and steps onto it, following the line of its body as he reaches down — to seize a dark arrow still embedded at the height of its heart. The arrow vanishes into dark sands, once he takes it in hand, and those sands fade against his skin. Indistinguishable. ]
And I am also killing those who oppose me and my goals. So, I ask: standing there, do you oppose me?
no subject
[ Ewwwwwww. ]
Funny, is it not? Khonshu's priest and the god of war, both plucked from the end of the world. As if we were the ones worthy of saving.
[ It is terribly ironic, he thinks. They are more than mismatched, they are mis-aligned, wrong for one another in the way that opposing Aspects are. He rolls his wrists, gesturing with open palms and flattened fingers. Invitational, for Marc to look upon him and find something reflected in the nature of them, the fact that they were permitted to continue on existing, while others did not. That there were other, better choices, and yet it is the two of them — a god-less priest and an evil god — allowed to carry on. How fucking stupid. Meeting Marc does not bring him peace or hope, it just makes him angry. And in his anger, he oft becomes cruel, bitter. ]
You know he is dead, right? Khonshu. The world ended, and so did he. The last of the Ennead is me, and the last of anyone you knew is you.
[ For Set, it is absolute that his world met an end. It is preserved, in his opinion, in the last, fleeting moment before it met its destruction — and it is that moment the Oracles will restore it to, will protect from the oncoming entropy that claimed it. He will stand readied, for nothing more than a promise he made. If unable to fulfill it, he will rip the whole, stupid thing into pieces and save what he can, instead. ]
So. Yes, I am killing time. [ He walks, to the beast he had thrown and steps onto it, following the line of its body as he reaches down — to seize a dark arrow still embedded at the height of its heart. The arrow vanishes into dark sands, once he takes it in hand, and those sands fade against his skin. Indistinguishable. ]
And I am also killing those who oppose me and my goals. So, I ask: standing there, do you oppose me?