[ Dimitri is, ultimately, the host. If he wishes to fetch tea, there is little Set can do to dissuade him; there is much about the man that Set has to learn, but he has taken note of his quiet stubbornness. He is as easy to change the mind of as a stone. With time and violence, perhaps. For now, neither are things that have any place in Dimitri's home. Instead, Set takes a very non-violent approach to matters and casts his body into the nearest creaky chair, throwing pale limbs into the space as he sprawls and slouches and drums his fingers on the leaning table. ]

'The bloodthirsty god of war and violence shed none of it, and thus / remained apart.'

[ Even speaking the common tongue of the Restless, his accent is a remarkable thing. Lyrical and ancient, and by the time of some of the human mortals of Earth, it is a dead thing. He recounts his own experience like theatre, like a tale that would be told orally to villages and travelers seeking the news. They would laugh over it, he thinks. The god of war, already such a miserable thing, failing to do what he was made for. ]

Many of you did not deserve the punishment they sought to levy upon you, and those of us who did, simply were overlooked due to a singular element. Stygian justice is a poignantly ill-organized aspect of this land.