I mean, yeah? It's... it's a little weird to tell someone you barely know that? Kind of? I, uh.
[ Set doesn't have to say anything. Bruno has long since gotten good at realizing when he's shoved a foot in his mouth and when he turns back with the little camping stove, he recognizes it with Set. That expression, displeased, even worrying, and the fact that he buries himself deeper into the blanket rather than tell Bruno off makes it all that much worse.
He's messed up again. Again! Why does he keep doing this? How? He really wasn't meant to be around people, was he?
But Bruno will power on through those thoughts, managing a really uncomfortable smile as he returns to set the stove down and turns it on to offer additional heat near Set. He then stands there, nearby, hands clasping together to try and tamp down on how much he feels like fidgeting with them. ]
N... not that I'd know. I. I don't spend a lot of time a-around people or... or anything or... know anything about gods apart from, uh, just regular God.
[ What does "regular God" even mean, Bruno? He has no idea. The words just tumble out and he already regrets everything. ]
[ That it's weird, he means. Jonas was young, he was in need of someone, and Set had been there at the start to offer that; he had been the one who had scared him in the first place, who had asked brutality from a boy not equipped for such things, who had been protected by him in their fall. It was humiliation and something cautious that had pressed him forward, to offer Jonas his care. ]
Perhaps for humans, it is odd to care for someone who is not your immediate family, but for the gods, we are -- we're meant to be something for everyone. For Jonas, I provide him financial support so that he can focus on things he wants to do. He is young. Someone ought to be there for him.
[ It's a little accusatory, against the other humans present. A slight disdain for them, for not caring for their young; there is something animalistic about Set, in that regard, like a lioness preparing to lash out in defense of her young, or -- like a parent. Just a parent. ]
-- and, I am a father.
[ Slowly, he begins to uncurl, still unwilling to address the fact that once more, someone does not believe him when he tells them he is a god. Would they believe him if he said he were a king from a far-off world? A doctor? A general of armies? Such things seemed easier to swallow than "god of war", and the dim ache within him -- it continues to fester, quietly. ]
[ Truly and completely messed up. Maybe Bruno should save them further awkwardness by simply leaving or saying nothing else or... but that'd make him a poor host, even if his guest was an unwanted one at first. He breathes out a sigh and steps past the warming camp stove to the balcony banister and turns. He slides down to sit with his back against it, near where Set is, and draws his ruana up around him, close. He comes with a blanket already attached, thankfully. ]
Yeah, well, and I'm a prophet who only sees bad things, but you don't have to believe me, either. [ He is, though. ] I'm... look, I'm sorry. Caring about other folks is the right thing to do. That's how my own family works, kind of. The people in the village always came first...
[ Typically at the detriment of the Madrigals themselves but such is the self-imposed burden of their miracle. ]
I guess I'm just worried about Jonas, too. If. If you mean that, that you're looking out for him, then... thank you. It's. It's better than I can do. For anyone, really.
[ Since he's definitely not a god himself. He's small, he's nervous, twitchy. Who's he going to help? ]
And, eh, if you say you're a god, then. I dunno. It's scary that a god can die and end up here, isn't it? Instead of just choosing to be here and then leaving again when you want to?
[ There is a lacking in Set. Judgment withheld, no matter how awkward or contorted people seem to be; he does not dislike them, but neither has he felt much for them in countless years of existence. Bruno seems to come to some manner of decision, allowing himself a crack in the door, a quiet moment settled nearby. It is more of an allowance than he expects. ]
Why would I not believe you? I am new to attending to mortal life, but I am aware that there are those with such visions.
[ Prophets and prophetesses alike invoked the will of the gods. Aged women wielded the power of his sister, gifted to them by her grace. Poets spoke in the voice of Hathor at times, singing until they collapsed with exhaustion -- but happy, so happy, to have been a conduit for a moment. ]
I will not tell you that I am a god of the people. Jonas could do better, than Egypt's most evil of gods -- I am of war and disorder. The bad things you see, they are doubtlessly of make and my might. But, I promised him.
[ Lightly, he begins to emerge from the blanket. The ends of his hair still damp, his leonine body sleek and warmed by cloth and flame; it is miraculously dry, by the time he returns it to Bruno, weaving the layers across his lap to keep his own legs warm. His little home is so drafty, after all - and the deserts at night were inevitably frosty. ]
To be honest, I was demoted. [ Wryly said, his mouth twisting into a mean smile. ] However, the gods of Egypt do die. Differently than our humans, but we also die.
[ Right, someone calling themselves a god would certainly not find a gift of prophecy weird, huh? Everyone else, though... ]
I mean, not everything bad is going to be, uh, your doing. [ Right? Right? ] Otherwise, I guess that makes me your prophet, huh? Ha...
[ Awkward, that was an awkward laugh, absolutely trying to lighten up the entire admission of being Egypt's most evil of gods because, wow, what the heck? Evil? Look, Bruno had been leery of him but he wouldn't have called him evil? He's thoroughly thankful for the return of the blanket since it gives him something to pick at, fidget with, that isn't simply his own ruana. ]
Eh, I dunno, you can't be that evil if you care about other people that much, like with Jonas. Even... demoted. [ Also weird. Gods can get demoted? What about fired? Or was being fired just being dead? So many questions and yet he doesn't think he should ask them. ] Or. Or dead, since, I guess... if you say so, then...
[ Maybe it is true. It could be that Set is still some raving lunatic or maybe, just maybe, gods really could end up here. He had only the vaguest concept of those ancient pantheons from across the ocean and what rules they followed were a total mystery to him. Besides, looking at that guy? Especially next to him, who's short and scrawny and ultimately unimpressive? Sure, he could imagine that was what a god should actually look like. ]
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[ Set doesn't have to say anything. Bruno has long since gotten good at realizing when he's shoved a foot in his mouth and when he turns back with the little camping stove, he recognizes it with Set. That expression, displeased, even worrying, and the fact that he buries himself deeper into the blanket rather than tell Bruno off makes it all that much worse.
He's messed up again. Again! Why does he keep doing this? How? He really wasn't meant to be around people, was he?
But Bruno will power on through those thoughts, managing a really uncomfortable smile as he returns to set the stove down and turns it on to offer additional heat near Set. He then stands there, nearby, hands clasping together to try and tamp down on how much he feels like fidgeting with them. ]
N... not that I'd know. I. I don't spend a lot of time a-around people or... or anything or... know anything about gods apart from, uh, just regular God.
[ What does "regular God" even mean, Bruno? He has no idea. The words just tumble out and he already regrets everything. ]
no subject
[ That it's weird, he means. Jonas was young, he was in need of someone, and Set had been there at the start to offer that; he had been the one who had scared him in the first place, who had asked brutality from a boy not equipped for such things, who had been protected by him in their fall. It was humiliation and something cautious that had pressed him forward, to offer Jonas his care. ]
Perhaps for humans, it is odd to care for someone who is not your immediate family, but for the gods, we are -- we're meant to be something for everyone. For Jonas, I provide him financial support so that he can focus on things he wants to do. He is young. Someone ought to be there for him.
[ It's a little accusatory, against the other humans present. A slight disdain for them, for not caring for their young; there is something animalistic about Set, in that regard, like a lioness preparing to lash out in defense of her young, or -- like a parent. Just a parent. ]
-- and, I am a father.
[ Slowly, he begins to uncurl, still unwilling to address the fact that once more, someone does not believe him when he tells them he is a god. Would they believe him if he said he were a king from a far-off world? A doctor? A general of armies? Such things seemed easier to swallow than "god of war", and the dim ache within him -- it continues to fester, quietly. ]
You don't have to believe me.
no subject
Yeah, well, and I'm a prophet who only sees bad things, but you don't have to believe me, either. [ He is, though. ] I'm... look, I'm sorry. Caring about other folks is the right thing to do. That's how my own family works, kind of. The people in the village always came first...
[ Typically at the detriment of the Madrigals themselves but such is the self-imposed burden of their miracle. ]
I guess I'm just worried about Jonas, too. If. If you mean that, that you're looking out for him, then... thank you. It's. It's better than I can do. For anyone, really.
[ Since he's definitely not a god himself. He's small, he's nervous, twitchy. Who's he going to help? ]
And, eh, if you say you're a god, then. I dunno. It's scary that a god can die and end up here, isn't it? Instead of just choosing to be here and then leaving again when you want to?
no subject
Why would I not believe you? I am new to attending to mortal life, but I am aware that there are those with such visions.
[ Prophets and prophetesses alike invoked the will of the gods. Aged women wielded the power of his sister, gifted to them by her grace. Poets spoke in the voice of Hathor at times, singing until they collapsed with exhaustion -- but happy, so happy, to have been a conduit for a moment. ]
I will not tell you that I am a god of the people. Jonas could do better, than Egypt's most evil of gods -- I am of war and disorder. The bad things you see, they are doubtlessly of make and my might. But, I promised him.
[ Lightly, he begins to emerge from the blanket. The ends of his hair still damp, his leonine body sleek and warmed by cloth and flame; it is miraculously dry, by the time he returns it to Bruno, weaving the layers across his lap to keep his own legs warm. His little home is so drafty, after all - and the deserts at night were inevitably frosty. ]
To be honest, I was demoted. [ Wryly said, his mouth twisting into a mean smile. ] However, the gods of Egypt do die. Differently than our humans, but we also die.
no subject
I mean, not everything bad is going to be, uh, your doing. [ Right? Right? ] Otherwise, I guess that makes me your prophet, huh? Ha...
[ Awkward, that was an awkward laugh, absolutely trying to lighten up the entire admission of being Egypt's most evil of gods because, wow, what the heck? Evil? Look, Bruno had been leery of him but he wouldn't have called him evil? He's thoroughly thankful for the return of the blanket since it gives him something to pick at, fidget with, that isn't simply his own ruana. ]
Eh, I dunno, you can't be that evil if you care about other people that much, like with Jonas. Even... demoted. [ Also weird. Gods can get demoted? What about fired? Or was being fired just being dead? So many questions and yet he doesn't think he should ask them. ] Or. Or dead, since, I guess... if you say so, then...
[ Maybe it is true. It could be that Set is still some raving lunatic or maybe, just maybe, gods really could end up here. He had only the vaguest concept of those ancient pantheons from across the ocean and what rules they followed were a total mystery to him. Besides, looking at that guy? Especially next to him, who's short and scrawny and ultimately unimpressive? Sure, he could imagine that was what a god should actually look like. ]