communion | stargazer-focused but ota

[semicharmed]

[ The psychic presence is tactile, first. Like a hand fumbling in the dark, knowing his fingers could brush up against someone at any moment and trying to avoid unwelcome contact.

Then: ]

Oh.

[ Or whatever passes for oh in Matt's mind. In this case, it's something like if a stray puff of air managed to light a candle, rather than extinguish it. The eureka moment is followed by a laugh, soda-fizz of endorphins that rises and feathers away. ]

Holy shit, you're right there, aren't you?

I mean--I think I can hear you.

Hello?

[ ooc: As noted here, Matt is reset! So if you knew him in AT, you are more than welcome to recognize him; he just won't remember you. PM or hit up artistformerlyknownas to ask questions or throw ideas around. :3 :3 :3 ]

Comments

[redsoil]

Yes!

[ Wait, that sounds like he's saying 'yes' to both matters. NO! ]

I mean, yes! To your mettle being untested. You have not yet survived an Oracle battle, ergo you are untested. It matters not to me which side you pledge to, provided you give it your all and perish properly if your choice means you are in the way of what I want. I will never want your blood, because I am a "vegetarian"!

[ imagine being the egyptian god of fucking war and violence and chaos and evil and you are

a vegetarian ]

Do not worry, though! You will be threatened by your powerless soon, and will decide to join a Faction.

[semicharmed]

[ Oh no ... he's ...




Adorable?

don'tlaughdon'tlaughdon't-- ]

That's what I hear. [ Matt frowns. The frowning definitely comes through, especially on the heels of his ripple of amusement. ] But I hope you'll forgive me saying, that feels like the worst reason to make a decision of any consequence.

[redsoil]

Is it the worst reason? Without power of any type — physical, social, mental — you cannot accomplish anything. I cannot forgive anyone without conviction, Ma'tt.

[ He flows across Matt's mind, countless grains of shattered, decayed things drifting upon soft winds — the fate of all things, after all, is to break down into shimmering atoms. A god like him is both metaphor and proof of that.

He slips around the man in circles, shapeless but present in every minuscule mote. And from the sands he reforms, sweeping his fingers under Matt's chin with a quick motion. Like tickling under the jaw of a particularly eager puppy. ]

As long as you are true and steadfast to your reasons, you will be accepted by your chosen peers. Or, if you do not want to participate at all in this war: ask my darling priestess what route is available to you ~!

[semicharmed]

[ Just when Matt thinks he's found his footing, Set shifts, his mental presence seeming to swell and swirl at once. Matt tries to follow him, but Set doesn't have a body to follow--not that he can detect. All Matt can think of is crystals broken down into finer and finer-grained pieces. Garnet and glass, silica and oxygen.

Then: here he is again. Matt can't remember feeling so conscious of his body during Communion, but evidently a play at touch will do that. His head tips back, slightly and instinctively. ]

I don't have a problem with power.

My convictions ...

[ Seem to be either too much or too little for most people here. Even here, surrounded by gods and epic clashes, Matt manages to be a weirdo. ]

Are mostly about balance. I want whatever's best for the universe. And that's why I don't want to make a decision out of fear, or deprivation.

[redsoil]

[ The impression of Set's fingers, grasping at Matt's chin, twist to the grip he takes on the whole of his jaw. The broad of his palm butts up underneath his throat, and Set's face looms before him. Intent, intense, interested. The heavy red of his brow terse, the line of his mouth drawn and eyes narrowed as he tries to discern what Matt really means. What skeletons in his closet lead him to such a rationale. ]

There have been others here, who seek balance. The forces of Meridian and Zenith, outside of how we use them, are presumably natural to Kenos.

[ Like a curious animal, he tips his head and red hair flows over one pale shoulder, vanishing into the endless sands. Like the forces of the world, he is as natural an element as he is a man, a creature, a god. ]

Do you think you will interpret the will of the universe better than me, then?

[semicharmed]

[ At the abrupt press of Set's hand, Matt's breath--and he may as well call it that, his brain needs oxygen just like the rest of him--stutters on a stuck hm. His eyes are light, one of those messy hazels that can't seem to pick a lane. They return Set's narrow-eyed look with an expression of deep, wondering curiosity.

... He's not not afraid. But Matt's never seemed to feel fear the way he should. Or maybe it's just that his desire to know is always so much stronger. ]

Not better. Just different.

[ Speaking of cosmic forces in opposition. His mind's eye follows the red of hair, sand, time, blood. ]

I'm glad you're here. You have the kind of perspective I can't imagine. [ Even when he believes he speaks to the universe, touches its all-knowing heart, the feeling is maddeningly difficult to hang onto once spellcasting is over. Matt's never been able to put it into words, which he assumes is the natural result of being a very small container for a massive force. ] I have to believe there's a reason I'm here too.

[redsoil]

[ — the elegance of his divinity is like watching a hurricane in motion. Terrifying, and awe-inspiring as he bends into the young man and seeks to — intimidate him? rattle him? press his fingers deep into his mind to learn of him? Who really knows! What happens next, is that Matt says something so strange that Set sputters. Falters. And the pale planes of his face redden a little, shocked and confused. ]

Glad.

[ SOMEONE'S GLAD HE'S HERE?????? BRO

he's gonna rattle matt around a little, completely blindsided by this ]

Glad?!

[semicharmed]

[ Matt's mind is a garble of metaphor at the best of times. Call it an artifact of the years spent on magic, making small but constant edits to the Wikipedia entry of existence. For a moment, at that flush, the image of a man's face with heat rising in his cheeks is layered over with a desert sunrise. Light spreading warming fingers across rock and sand.

Then Matt loses track of stuff because he's being shaken.

He's in what he can only describe as a psychic centrifuge--once his brain unscrambles enough to be in the describing business. In the realm of Communion, Matt does exactly what he'd do in physical life: yells. ]

Sorry! [ Oh God where is he. Matt scrabbles with his mental fingertips for something, anything to hang onto. ] Sorry, I--

[redsoil]

[ it's like a shojo female lead going kyaaaa~ and slapping the shit out of her male lead because she's overwhelmed ]

Who do you think you are, to be glad for me?!

[ He's definitely having a moment, flushing faintly at the mere idea that his attempt at bullying has been met with such... peaceful acceptance. It isn't quite passivity, since Matt hasn't thrown up his hands and gone "whaddayagonnado" about his situation — and Set does value balance. Even though he is young, and has not fully awoken to his domain of chaos, balance is a concept that draws him in. Like peace. He supports both, as a pillar of reason that they can even exist.

And Matt's just

flung around in a blender for a moment, before Set chucks his mind down to the "ground" and stands over him. Petulant and frowning, hands on his hips. Enjoy the near upskirt shot, because Set manifests as a mostly-nude guy wearing a dark shendyt, his prettiness basically genderless and expression sullen.

There's no blurring of man and desert now. He's a bit rattled. ]

If you believe that reason is anything other than to right the glaring wrong that is the wanton destruction of worlds before their time, you had best heed my perspective more than any one else's! I can understand Zenith's position. I value it, and yearn for it... but, it is not correct. Not yet. Take that for "perspective", and discard it if you are stupid.

[ BAKA ]

[semicharmed]

[ Oh thank god Matt's still being tossed around when Set asks who he thinks he is, because this player does not have the mental fortitude to write out I told you, I'm Matt.

Where he ends up: scrambling up onto his elbows, breathing hard, heart hammering in his chest and between his temples. Eyes still locked on Set. He's cognizant of his beauty the same way he's cognizant of having just been shaken around like a ragdoll: both are relevant facts of the situation.

He can't help feeling like he's offended or upset Set in some way. It's not something he realized a human person could do before arriving here, but he feels like he's 2 for 3 so far. Behind that worry, he turns over Set's words. Wanton destruction, glaring wrong.

Yearn for it ...

Matt swallows. Frowns up at him. ]

What makes you say it wasn't time?

[redsoil]

Because I know all things come to an end, but not like this.

[ He is too "young" to speak of Apep, of fighting the world-ending serpent upon Ra's barque for eternity. Of the fact that he knows one day, all will return to the sea of chaos it once rose from. And then it will begin again, different than before. Cycles within cycles. ]

Cycles are small, and are contained within bigger and bigger ones, but they are always present. Can you not imagine how Oblivion ruptures those cycles, and ends them before they ought to? Everyone should have been able to fight it. They had the right to fight back, to then prevail or fall to it, and they could not.

[ Mortals are free to choose. Gods have power, that is how things are to him. His confidence in that is unshakeable, divine. ]

The autonomy of mortals was ignored, ergo it cannot be their time.

[semicharmed]

[ Matt is right in the middle of following these corridors of thought, when it occurs to him: If I think this all the way through, and this guy hears me, he might kick my ass in a way I can't comprehend yet.

Well, that's not really the form it takes in his brain. Fully articulated words, a real plan. The form is takes is a quick submerge, like plunging into a cold lake and turning all your thoughts to water. I pray a lot, he told Quetzalcoatl. And meditate. Let thoughts and preoccupations float away like vapor, and the thoughts that float away now are:

But sometimes things just happen.

Nobody asks about mortal autonomy before a plague strikes, or an asteroid.

Matt's brain isn't actually totally empty, because he's not a great sage or high-achieving bodhisattva. But he does manage to slow himself down. Out in life, it isn't so obvious when he shelves a thought or emotion he suspects will prove dangerous--physically, or to the prospect of going home for Christmas, or just to having a nice time with a pleasant acquaintance. ]

I think I understand, [ he says. The position, at least, he thinks he does. And it's a nice thought, that everyone deserves their own fist-to-the-sky chance to rage against the dying of the light. ]

Okay. Thanks for explaining that.

[redsoil]

[ Scowling, Set squints at the spot where he feels most of Matt's mind gathered. The transparency of his thoughts, the way he questions how Set frames it — and in a way, he wants to retort. Certainly mortals have no autonomy when disaster or disease strike, but do they not have the ability to respond to it? To band together in the wake of the asteroid and recover from the damage and destruction? To examine the disease and discern the best way to create medicine, to inoculate or heal? ]

That is why I think what happened is wrong, but not why I stand where I do. I do not really care if you understand or not. You will take a stance for something or against something in the name of your "balance".

[ He snaps it, teeth bared like a dog that's learned how to bite because it can no longer tell when the hand coming towards it is there to pet it, or punch it. ]

And if it proves to threaten what I want, I will remove that threat without prejudice.

[semicharmed]

[ Matt frowns. He ruffles a bit, before he can stop himself, at the level of hostility that seems to be directed towards the concept of balance. 'His' balance, which is not how he perceives it.

Belatedly, he wonders if this would be going better if he'd picked a different word, like "harmony." But as he recalls, in ancient Egyptian, the word for harmony and balance is the same. Both of them sound like his name in Set's mouth. ]

Understood.

[ He sounds a little sad. ]

I'd much rather work with you--with everybody here. It seems like we're a rare species right now.

[redsoil]

Outside of battles for the resource we all desire, I would work with you no matter your allegiance. For knowledge and understanding we still need, though for some... it no longer matters more than the call of their Faction.

But, I am the god of war and in the end, battle is what I seek.

[ His wife was the goddess of peace and harmony, his aunt the arbiter of balance. He, on the other hand, is their natural nemesis and enemy. When he speaks of what he is, it sounds like an inescapable destiny. ]

Do not set yourself up for heartbreak, Ma'tt. If balance means I cannot return home, I will gladly burn it down and all of you with it.

[semicharmed]

[ Matt believes him.

That's the biggest thing he's learned in all his explorations into magic and communing with great beyond. You can't change something's essential nature. You can shape yourself to fit it, you can latch on for a ride, you can scream yourself hoarse watching nothing happen. For now, it sounds like he'll have to be content with a tentative alliance, one based on a search for knowledge. Kinda Thoth-y, which he can dig.

Still, the thoughts he's trying not to think are massing like clouds at the edge of his awareness. And new to this medium as he is, he can't help-- ]

Setting myself up for heartbreak. [ Rueful. ] That'd be a pretty human thing to do, wouldn't it.

[ The connection falls away.

A piece of Matt is surprised he's able to just hang up. The conversation felt like Set's domain, into which he was a hapless interloper. So he's surprised to turn around and see no one there, surprised to brush fingers over his jaw and feel no grains of red sand. ]