[ Us, he now says, and that’s telling. It’s obvious that Silco is relating to the story in a way that probably isn’t quite what Tezcatlipoca meant. He can take a guess, and it’s one that’s not very far off from the truth, but he wouldn’t exactly agree that their perspectives are all that similar. But it’s not Silco’s fault that he finds a thread of connection, which is why Tezcatlipoca doesn’t say anything to correct it. It’s a difference of perspective—Silco is a mortal man, and Tezcatlipoca is a (formerly) omnipotent god. If he sees something relatable there… Fuck it, he guesses. That’s what gods are supposed to be for, right? ]

It’s a small club, considering most people love the whole sunshine and wind deal, but, hey, someone’s got to be the reigning president, right?

[ He peeks around Silco to look down the alley, but seeing nothing of note… His attention does go to the grate. Underground, huh? Well, even more fitting for him. ]

If it’s anything, I’ve gotten my due several times over. Destroyed her world as some nice payback, for one, but she’s also just stupidly easy to trick. I’ll never understand how she ended up as the god of wisdom, because she sure as hell didn’t get any for herself.

[ …That gripe is honestly a small one that’s personal and petty, but. ]