[ The thing about ancient, unknowable beings is that they were truly hard to unsettle. Kenos had offered an interesting diversion, but once it had “ended” and its little conceit had been proved a lie, well. He’d barely thought of it. He was back in England and back to work just as dutifully as if he hadn’t been gone at all. Kenos was no more than a blink of the eye in the vast span of his existence. It didn’t need to be anything he treated with regret or longing, only a vague, disconnected interest.
So. Imagine his surprise when a familiar soul ended up calling out to him. While he was generally discerning in which requests he heeded versus those he ignored, that person was one of the few that he was drawn to without question.
…And besides. It’s incredibly generous for Set to use a little of his divinity to reach across time for him. He’s not sure if he even knows that’s the case, for a god wasn’t as tied to the linear progression of time as he was, but it’s a unique gift. Wouldn’t it be rude to turn it down?
Where Set has laid out the circle and offered enough of a sacrifice for Sebastian to be able to make the nebulous journey, the air chills suddenly. Whatever light is in the chamber extinguishes, and the familiar, unsettling murk of dark, dangerous shadow takes over. And from it, there’s a hoarse, but distinctly pleased laugh. ]
…My, my. How very kind of you to call.
[ There’s no need for the intimidation here that Sebastian is so fond of when being summoned. There’s no victim that needs to be terrified here. So, (alas) he forgoes the eyes, the teeth, all the horrible amalgams of beasts that he can manifest at will. From the shadow simply steps a tall, handsome man. He looks precisely as he did in that strange world, since it was a convenient form to take… But the smile he greets Set with is lined with vicious, inhuman teeth. ]
[ What he hadn't realized, until it was far too late, was that the things he'd known in Kenos were — things that were to come to be.
Nonlinear entities like gods have memories that are experiences, experiences that are memories, with no true delineation between the two. They are all that they are, they exist across all of time and space simultaneously. Their goals, their aspirations, their desires all attuned to multiple moments without need for any to come "before" or "after" the other. In Kenos, all he had wanted was to return to Egypt, to the time when Horus had swept the helm from his head and told him that he was to be the one to remember him, to the time where he was working hard to atone and return to his son's side. To make good on their promise, above all else. Things that Set had told only to a select few, and among their number was not the demon he'd needed desperately to stay ahead of.
Imagine, the desperation and devastation, to return from that battlefield and find that those memories were foresight, instead. That instead of being placed back among the delicate blossoming hope he would come to feel, he was actually to be beached upon the shores of the singlemost agonizing moment in his entire life. ( He cannot do this. Not again, not for the first time, not again, not knowing, not having barely survived. Not with the knowledge now that — what if he's been through this before? ) ]
Sebastian.
[ His voice is hard, harsh as anything. Barely upright, he sits in the middle of his extensive sacrifices and the circle written upon the ground around him — Malphas, in pristine and secret script along the borders. He'd given up the name itself, but not the steps that he'd undertaken to acquire the name, because some part of him had to have known that he would have need of it one day.
Visibly, he's a wreck. Someone's obviously had their way with him, left him shattered across the ground in the wake of furniture that's been thrown around, his hair in disarray and eyes bright with madness. No fury, though. Just desperation. He can't even hate that he's called Sebastian down to see him this way, because he's sorely in need of the demon. This probably will be the end of any friendship between them, for their friendship was built on that concept of equal power, and Set... is not powerful, right now. He is Osiris's creature, with Anubis's soul embedded within him — waiting to become some other child. And Osiris is alive, off preparing for "the next step".
[ The scene isn’t what he expects. Honestly, he hadn’t even thought about why Set would be summoning him before answering, because truthfully, such a willful god was hard for him to predict. It could be something trivial and sentimental just as much as an earnest request. He doesn’t expect too much of it, and honestly, if it were a small request? He would offer it for “free”. It would be simple appreciation of the entertainment that Set had offered in an otherwise largely dull world. ]
…Oh?
[ The friendly delight smoothly turns to a different kind of sharp smile. Even before Set states his intention, he can guess it. He’s never seen Set look so…
Weak.
He slinks closer and dips down to Set’s level in a half-kneel. He’s read the situation, and what an unexpected delight. As much as he valued their odd, twisted sense of being equals, he’s still a predator at the end of the day. That’s what makes it immediately, sharply delicious. Set knows that. He knows exactly what Sebastian is and what his services truly mean, and still, he wanted them. A god’s desperation was just as potent as a human’s, as it turned out. ]
Dear me… Look at you.
[ His words are polite and genteel as they’ve ever been, but they’re sharply contrasted with his smile. He reaches out to Set, knowing fully that he’s likely to be smacked away, but it’s only to gently brush some hair away from his face. It’s a mocking sort of fondness. ]
What a terrible thing must have happened… I never thought you would want me so.
[ Osiris wasn't meant to survive. He was meant to trick him, to force him to throw away his divinity in order to "pursue" Set into Duat. And he'd — he'd caught him, a hand around Set's wrist as he'd dragged him from his hidden alcove and thrown him to the ground. As if he'd foreseen it. As if, like Set, Osiris had walked away with the foresight-memory. As if Set, returning from Kenos, had changed fate around him. Usurped the order of things, for a new, chaotic future. ( All his preparations had gone for naught, all the knowledge and power was gone. All that was left was a child he needed to protect, and could do so properly now that Anubis was within him. )
Fine.
Fine.
Call Sebastian. Call that demon, let him be resplendent and predatory. There was no pit Set wouldn't sink to, no indignity left he would not eagerly suffer, for his son. For their freedom from Osiris, god of life. No pride for him to scrape up from the floor slick with blood and wine and ruination, and no desire to resist Sebastian's cloying tone. None. Shattered like he is, there is no defense he can muster. Just the empty, expected automatic crack of his hand slapping aside Sebastian's as it comes to stroke hair from his face.
A silent, weak vow that he will get Sebastian back tenfold for any mockery. ]
This isn't how things are supposed to be. Osiris should be in Duat, and instead he's out there finalizing — f, finalizing...
[ Something is wrong with "history". ]
You know that I cannot offer you my soul. Still, I want your power.
[ Knowing them, they'd end up being stuck in an ouroboros of service and sustenance. No freedom left to either of them. Devastating and unwanted! Right? ]
[ Sebastian knows the story, but he’d also long since discarded it in his understanding of Set. It was an easy thing to do, for he was subject to similar, or at least so he thought. Humans were funny with their stories. They filled in gaps or changes the truth to be more satisfying, so he’d just assumed it must be so for Set as well.
…But looking at Set now, he sees a different angle to that story. Why Set had killed his brother. Or, rather. Attempted to, as is the case.
He just makes a satisfied little noise as Set smacks his hand away, and the smug pleasure is evident. Getting a proper rise out of the other was part of their game too, and he’s happy to continue it. But, he doesn’t push further. If he goes a little too far, Set might decide that he’s more trouble than he’s worth. ]
Finalizing…?
[ He repeats the word, but he’s not seriously looking for an answer. Not right now, at least. He just leans closer. ]
Hm… That you cannot offer my usual rate is troublesome, you know. To go through all the trouble you might ask without a proper payment… Well, you would not make that sort of deal, would you?
[ But. That “but” is clear in his tone, and he cants his head slightly. In any other context, it would be flirtatious, but here, it’s dangerous. ]
How many souls would you offer for you wish, dear Set?
[ For Sebastian to know, was to have given a predator a target. A bird with a broken wing, a gazelle bleeding out slowly in the grass. A god, brought low by another, to the point where a thing meant to have no equal was dominated. While Sebastian presses and preens and postures in that subtle way of his, Set does his best not to fall under the sway of another. To be furious and resentful, even as terror flutters in his throat and belly. ]
I know better. I wouldn't deny you. [ He has memories of what it means to do that.
The demon's grudge is not what he wants, anyways. Not unless he could set it against Osiris, rather than the woman who had earned it once in a world long ago, far away. A world that felt more like a dream, now; a pathetic escapist fantasy from the real thing happening to him - Anubis's soul in his belly, Osiris bridging the gap between the two of them to the point where he was sure he'd disappear. He'd be tethered to him forever, under lock and key. ]
"How many"? You are a gourmet, not a glutton.
[ Set thinks to offer Sebastian a steady diet. He thinks to offer him a million. He thinks to serve him by bringing to him those who might prove a delicacy — and none of those will suffice. The humans offer themselves to him, and a god avoiding such an outcome means the pact ought not even be formed. But, Set wants to survive. He wants his son, and to have that, he needs to survive. ]
I will do you one better. I will give you my Name.
[ Set has seen this before. Admired it, even, because Sebastian is the perfect predator for those that think such a thing is impossible. That wicked nature had caught Set’s interest, but it was still something else to have it turned on you. His attention is sharp and frightening, but it’s not because of the violence he’s perfectly capable of inflicting.
It’s because every gesture, every word, it’s providing him the proverbial rope he needs. He’s a demon capable of great things… But the end of that journey will only be his prey hanging themselves. And he’ll delight in it, even if they were once “friends”.
So, “how many” is only a test. It’s a baited trap to see desperation that a human would almost certainly unwisely reveal. But Set— ]
Oh?
[ Set knows him and his appetites. It’s true that an endless glut of souls isn’t what he wants. He wants what’s rare and novel, so what he offers makes Sebastian’s questioning noise sound distinctly pleased. ]
Your Name… That is certainly a tempting prize. You have my interest.
[ Truthfully, while he knows what Set is offering, he doesn’t fully understand its depth. He doesn’t need to, necessarily. He understands a true name’s power intimately. It might not nourish him, but it’s a powerful tool in his arsenal, should he ever have need of it. ]
But you must have quite the request in mind. So, tell me. What do you want my power for, precisely?
[ He leans closer, almost like he would be going in for a kiss, but that’s pushing boundaries. He stays apart from Set with a sharp smile. ]
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or: omg hiiii bestie <333
So. Imagine his surprise when a familiar soul ended up calling out to him. While he was generally discerning in which requests he heeded versus those he ignored, that person was one of the few that he was drawn to without question.
…And besides. It’s incredibly generous for Set to use a little of his divinity to reach across time for him. He’s not sure if he even knows that’s the case, for a god wasn’t as tied to the linear progression of time as he was, but it’s a unique gift. Wouldn’t it be rude to turn it down?
Where Set has laid out the circle and offered enough of a sacrifice for Sebastian to be able to make the nebulous journey, the air chills suddenly. Whatever light is in the chamber extinguishes, and the familiar, unsettling murk of dark, dangerous shadow takes over. And from it, there’s a hoarse, but distinctly pleased laugh. ]
…My, my. How very kind of you to call.
[ There’s no need for the intimidation here that Sebastian is so fond of when being summoned. There’s no victim that needs to be terrified here. So, (alas) he forgoes the eyes, the teeth, all the horrible amalgams of beasts that he can manifest at will. From the shadow simply steps a tall, handsome man. He looks precisely as he did in that strange world, since it was a convenient form to take… But the smile he greets Set with is lined with vicious, inhuman teeth. ]
Hello, Set.
you know the drill, cws all the way for this one
Nonlinear entities like gods have memories that are experiences, experiences that are memories, with no true delineation between the two. They are all that they are, they exist across all of time and space simultaneously. Their goals, their aspirations, their desires all attuned to multiple moments without need for any to come "before" or "after" the other. In Kenos, all he had wanted was to return to Egypt, to the time when Horus had swept the helm from his head and told him that he was to be the one to remember him, to the time where he was working hard to atone and return to his son's side. To make good on their promise, above all else. Things that Set had told only to a select few, and among their number was not the demon he'd needed desperately to stay ahead of.
Imagine, the desperation and devastation, to return from that battlefield and find that those memories were foresight, instead. That instead of being placed back among the delicate blossoming hope he would come to feel, he was actually to be beached upon the shores of the singlemost agonizing moment in his entire life. ( He cannot do this. Not again, not for the first time, not again, not knowing, not having barely survived. Not with the knowledge now that — what if he's been through this before? ) ]
Sebastian.
[ His voice is hard, harsh as anything. Barely upright, he sits in the middle of his extensive sacrifices and the circle written upon the ground around him — Malphas, in pristine and secret script along the borders. He'd given up the name itself, but not the steps that he'd undertaken to acquire the name, because some part of him had to have known that he would have need of it one day.
Visibly, he's a wreck. Someone's obviously had their way with him, left him shattered across the ground in the wake of furniture that's been thrown around, his hair in disarray and eyes bright with madness. No fury, though. Just desperation. He can't even hate that he's called Sebastian down to see him this way, because he's sorely in need of the demon. This probably will be the end of any friendship between them, for their friendship was built on that concept of equal power, and Set... is not powerful, right now. He is Osiris's creature, with Anubis's soul embedded within him — waiting to become some other child. And Osiris is alive, off preparing for "the next step".
And Set cannot let that happen. ]
I want to make a deal with you.
[
What if this was always how it had gone?]no subject
…Oh?
[ The friendly delight smoothly turns to a different kind of sharp smile. Even before Set states his intention, he can guess it. He’s never seen Set look so…
Weak.
He slinks closer and dips down to Set’s level in a half-kneel. He’s read the situation, and what an unexpected delight. As much as he valued their odd, twisted sense of being equals, he’s still a predator at the end of the day. That’s what makes it immediately, sharply delicious. Set knows that. He knows exactly what Sebastian is and what his services truly mean, and still, he wanted them. A god’s desperation was just as potent as a human’s, as it turned out. ]
Dear me… Look at you.
[ His words are polite and genteel as they’ve ever been, but they’re sharply contrasted with his smile. He reaches out to Set, knowing fully that he’s likely to be smacked away, but it’s only to gently brush some hair away from his face. It’s a mocking sort of fondness. ]
What a terrible thing must have happened… I never thought you would want me so.
no subject
Fine.
Fine.
Call Sebastian. Call that demon, let him be resplendent and predatory. There was no pit Set wouldn't sink to, no indignity left he would not eagerly suffer, for his son. For their freedom from Osiris, god of life. No pride for him to scrape up from the floor slick with blood and wine and ruination, and no desire to resist Sebastian's cloying tone. None. Shattered like he is, there is no defense he can muster. Just the empty, expected automatic crack of his hand slapping aside Sebastian's as it comes to stroke hair from his face.
A silent, weak vow that he will get Sebastian back tenfold for any mockery. ]
This isn't how things are supposed to be. Osiris should be in Duat, and instead he's out there finalizing — f, finalizing...
[ Something is wrong with "history". ]
You know that I cannot offer you my soul. Still, I want your power.
[ Knowing them, they'd end up being stuck in an ouroboros of service and sustenance. No freedom left to either of them. Devastating and unwanted! Right? ]
no subject
…But looking at Set now, he sees a different angle to that story. Why Set had killed his brother. Or, rather. Attempted to, as is the case.
He just makes a satisfied little noise as Set smacks his hand away, and the smug pleasure is evident. Getting a proper rise out of the other was part of their game too, and he’s happy to continue it. But, he doesn’t push further. If he goes a little too far, Set might decide that he’s more trouble than he’s worth. ]
Finalizing…?
[ He repeats the word, but he’s not seriously looking for an answer. Not right now, at least. He just leans closer. ]
Hm… That you cannot offer my usual rate is troublesome, you know. To go through all the trouble you might ask without a proper payment… Well, you would not make that sort of deal, would you?
[ But. That “but” is clear in his tone, and he cants his head slightly. In any other context, it would be flirtatious, but here, it’s dangerous. ]
How many souls would you offer for you wish, dear Set?
no subject
I know better. I wouldn't deny you. [ He has memories of what it means to do that.
The demon's grudge is not what he wants, anyways. Not unless he could set it against Osiris, rather than the woman who had earned it once in a world long ago, far away. A world that felt more like a dream, now; a pathetic escapist fantasy from the real thing happening to him - Anubis's soul in his belly, Osiris bridging the gap between the two of them to the point where he was sure he'd disappear. He'd be tethered to him forever, under lock and key. ]
"How many"? You are a gourmet, not a glutton.
[ Set thinks to offer Sebastian a steady diet. He thinks to offer him a million. He thinks to serve him by bringing to him those who might prove a delicacy — and none of those will suffice. The humans offer themselves to him, and a god avoiding such an outcome means the pact ought not even be formed. But, Set wants to survive. He wants his son, and to have that, he needs to survive. ]
I will do you one better. I will give you my Name.
no subject
It’s because every gesture, every word, it’s providing him the proverbial rope he needs. He’s a demon capable of great things… But the end of that journey will only be his prey hanging themselves. And he’ll delight in it, even if they were once “friends”.
So, “how many” is only a test. It’s a baited trap to see desperation that a human would almost certainly unwisely reveal. But Set— ]
Oh?
[ Set knows him and his appetites. It’s true that an endless glut of souls isn’t what he wants. He wants what’s rare and novel, so what he offers makes Sebastian’s questioning noise sound distinctly pleased. ]
Your Name… That is certainly a tempting prize. You have my interest.
[ Truthfully, while he knows what Set is offering, he doesn’t fully understand its depth. He doesn’t need to, necessarily. He understands a true name’s power intimately. It might not nourish him, but it’s a powerful tool in his arsenal, should he ever have need of it. ]
But you must have quite the request in mind. So, tell me. What do you want my power for, precisely?
[ He leans closer, almost like he would be going in for a kiss, but that’s pushing boundaries. He stays apart from Set with a sharp smile. ]
What can I accomplish that even a god cannot?