kenoscomm | techalaniani. [cw: dr...ugs...]

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techalaniani. [cw: dr...ugs...]

[ It’s about two weeks after the chaos that’s hit Highstorm and Springstar both. The dust has had time to settle and people have started to pick themselves back up. And in that busy time, the Shard-Bearers of Kenos are touched by someone new. It’s a mind that gives the impression of vastness in the way that other gods and similarly supernatural creatures have. There’s dark, fragrant smoke of copal, and the humid heat of a rainforest. It probably feels faintly familiar to some, since there’s just a hint of that warmth that feels similar to a certain sun god(dess)…

But as it focuses, that warmth seems to be coming from a campfire, perhaps oddly. The logs around it offer you a “seat”, whether proverbial or not, and it’s only if you take one that the speak themselves will come into more focus. But the introduction that comes with it is much cooler (in both senses of the word) than the bubbly Quetzalcoatl. ]

Yo.

[ …Is that how the newest god is greeting the masses? Yep. Apparently so. ]

I talked to enough people when Kenos was jerking me around [ no, that was me, the player, ] that Communion is just more efficient. So, for those I’ve met and for those I haven’t, consider this a more formal greeting. You’ve removed my brother Quetzalcoatl and allowed me to descend in his stead.

[ And even though he’s identified Quetzalcoatl as his brother… The smirk in that statement is unmistakable. He’s pleased that Quetzalcoatl is dead. For those that know the mythology of the Aztec pantheon even faintly, this wouldn’t be a surprise at all, since Quetzalcoatl only has one enemy that would be glad to see the feathered serpent fall. ]

Name’s Tezcatlipoca. Tloque nahuaque. [ The Nahuatl is spoken with a sense of power that’s subtle, but still raw, even though there’s no one that would understand it. Still, it conveys the idea well enough—this is no minor god of that pantheon. ] If you know me, great, and if you don’t, well. Met your god Set one of the times I was stoppin’ by, and our whole deal is similar enough. I am conflict, so in the spirit of fairness, I’ve thrown my lot in with Zenith. Can’t have two gods that oversee war and conflict on the same side, yeah?

[ There’s humor in his tone that makes it seem like it’s a joke, but… No. It’s not. That’s a pretty significant part of his rationale for picking Zenith. Thanks Set!/Don’t worry about. ]

Anyways. All that formal shit aside, easy one to follow it all up. Ain’t often that I got a human body to enjoy getting fucked up. So, if you’ve got a preference for weed, hit me up. Workin’ on somethin’ artisanal there, but I wanna know the poisons of preference for the locals. Let me know what you get fucked up on, and I might even make it worth your while.

[ …So. You know. That’s one way to introduce yourself. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ He continues the process of undressing while Matt works, though it’s quick work to get his shirt undone considering how little of it he keeps buttoned… He shrugs it off with a neutral sound to the thanks, and it reveals the tattoo underneath for the first time. Just like the designs on his arms, it’s a simple design, but the large design of a black sun isn’t exactly subtle in its meaning. ]

Man, no fuckin’ kidding.

[ He clicks his tongue in annoyance as he tosses the shirt over to the general Pile Of Stuff he’s created. This conversation topic works for him, since it’s not like he cares about a heavy mood, exactly, but some complaining will lighten it. Even if it’s a unique form of “privilege” behind it… ]

I thought that shoving myself into a human body was bad enough, but at least I still had Authority because it was in Mictlan. Here? Fuck. You know what it’s like to be omniscient and omnipresent, then suddenly, bam, you’re not. Feels tiny.

[ …Not that this would help him with his internal conflict about Daybit, exactly. But he’s just complaining for the sake of it because it came to mind and he has less of a brain to mouth filter than he normally might. ]

[ The revelation of the tattoo is a momentary distraction to Matt. One hand bookmarks his place in the braiding while the other lifts to Tezca's back. A fingertip skirts the edge of one of the sun's rays.

At the notion of a human body being bad enough, Matt chuckles--but the follow-up actually gives him pause for a moment. ]

I don't, exactly, [ he allows, which honestly he probably does not need to say. Comes with the territory, being a human and all. ] But I do have ... a feeling like I know all I need to know, and I'm where I'm supposed to be. Sometimes.

[ Matt is momentarily flummoxed when he returns to his braiding, but after briefly undoing part of the fishtail, he gets back into the rhythm. He's most of the way down by now. Even with mild impairment and the length of Tezca's hair, it's a simple enough pattern. ]

…Well, yeah.

[ He laughs, since it’s a question/complaint that was rhetorical, but it makes sense that he’d answer. Tezcatlipoca starts to turn his head to look back his way, then remembers, right, the hair braiding, so he just corrects the movement into a shrug. ]

It’d probably fry your brain to try. Just, y’know, too much. [ He could never know for sure (ironically), but he suspected that’s part of why Daybit’s whole deal was what it was. But he won’t get into that, lest he dive into thoughts he’d consider kind of sad and pathetic (again). ] So, that feeling is pretty good, I’d say. Plenty of people don’t get that much.

[ And since he’d been caught up complaining— ]

You dig the tattoo?

[ Matt sighs, wistful. ]

I know it would. I can barely even remember the way I do feel, when I get to that place--once I'm out of it, I mean. But that's what reminded me of what you said. [ His fingers keep moving, the going a good deal easier now that he's near the ends of Tezca's hair. ] It feels small on the other side. Kinda lonely.

[ Like Tezcatlipoca, Matt becomes cognizant that if he keeps going down this conversational path, there's more downer moments waiting. And the subject change is very pleasant, so he jumps on it. ]

I do dig it. [ "Dig" sounds slightly funny in his mouth, but the repetition is affectionate. Matt finishes Tezca's braid, nudging it over his shoulder for his inspection. He traces the disk of the sun tattoo with his fingertip; it doesn't feel like making a decision to bend and press a kiss to the topmost ray. Not quite reverent, not quite chaste, but a little of both. ]

[ Tezcatlipoca makes a small noise, a soft huh once Matt explains it, and it’s… A little surprising. At least in his world’s definition of it, omniscience tended to be just for the world and its happenings (or, worse, the capital-‘W’ World). It wasn’t for peoples’ thoughts or inner worlds like the word could sometimes mean. So, he considers it for a moment until Matt finishes the work.

He reaches up to touch it, and just from the slight turn of his head, it’s easy to see his appreciative smile. He could have done it himself, sure. But there’s some presumptuousness on his part (why should be have to, if someone will do it for him?) and a piece where he just enjoys gestures like this. From how easily he’ll shake a hand, throw an arm over someone’s shoulder, or generally get in their personal space, he’s just a physical person. ]

Thanks.

[ For the hair, for the compliment, but it’s said just before Matt leans forward. The gentility of the kiss surprises him, but he laughs before he turns back towards Matt. Smoothly, he dips forward and catches Matt’s lips in a kiss. It’s about the same as the first time they’d kissed, honestly. They’re both intoxicated, he tastes and smells like cigarettes because of his chainsmoking, and it’s something easily given. It’s gentler this time, though. ]

[ But it doesn’t last as long this time, alas. He pulls away as he starts to stand and unbuckle his belt, but lest there be any misinterpretation, he laughs it off. ]

Don’t get your hopes up tonight, though. Wasn’t kidding when I said I was fuckin’ tired, and besides.

[ He tosses the belt aside, then starts to shimmy out of his skinny jeans. ]

Drank too much Braindance. Or whatever was at that second place. Dick wouldn’t fuckin’ work anyways. [ the eternal moodkiller, whiskey dick… at least he’s honest about it… ] Watch out, though. I’m a cuddler.

[ From his grin, it is very hard to tell whether he is joking or not… ]

Edited 2024-03-05 04:28 (UTC)

[ Matt's incredibly bad at explaining what he means. The way casting spells feels like the inner world of his individual soul and the outer reaches of the universal soul become one. Or rather, the illusion that they're different falls away. It's why he relates the feeling to omniscience and omnipresence--why he can feel so hollow sometimes, when the feeling fades.

But whatever chance Matt had at explaining himself flies out the window at the kiss. He sighs into it, hm, and sways slightly after Tezcatlipoca when he pulls away, as if to chase his lips.

But then Tezca clarifies, and Matt laughs. ]

I hadn't thought that far ahead, [ he admits, honestly. Would his dick work right now? Unclear. ] No worries. I appreciate our choices tonight for what they were.

[ In his current frame of mind, he hears "I'm a cuddler" as totally literal, and smiles over it as he shrugs out of his own shirt. He reaches out to brush Tezca's shoulder affectionately. Now that he's touched one of his tattoos this evening, a sense of tactile completionism has him going for more. ]

Ha, yeah, then good we got it out of the way before we both ended up disappointed.

[ He knows himself, after all. Largely that once he gets going, it’d be hard to stop, and, well. That road only leads to comical disappointment tonight. Once he’s kicked those off too, he plops back down to the bed almost playfully in time to catch that touch on the shoulder. From how he leans into it, it seems that it’s a true statement, at least. And largely, it is! It’s just also something he’s fairly recently found out. Gods don’t exactly need to sleep, after all, so. It’s the whole human body thing that had led to this discovery.

He moves to lay down with his back to the wall (looks like he’s taking big spoon duty), but beckons for Matt to come with him as he lounges back. ]

C’mere— [ He slurs it out, but then it turns into a laughed out yawn ] Might feel this night tomorrow, but, eh. Was fun, so worth it.

[ Matt's dark trousers hit the floor, landing on his discarded shirt. With his back to Tezcatlipoca, his own back tattoo can be seen: a stern circle in black and gray, all interlocking geometry and scraps of ancient languages. Latin, Greek. There's a half-monkey, half-man tattoo peeking out from his underwear, curling around his right hip.

And of course, his Shard over his heart, where his emerald lotus tattoo used to sit. Nothing Tezca hasn't seen before, given Matt's state of undress when he arrived here. But there's a little less going on right now. More time to get acquainted.

He glances back to Tezca with a smile. And he settles down on the bed alongside him, back to his front. ]

I had fun too. [ He stretches out, getting comfortable. And gives a yawn of his own. ] Thank you for taking me out ...

[ At least this time Tezcatlipoca is taking the proper time to admire the artwork. His gaze drifts along the various pieces of the design, and some parts make more sense to him than others. The imagery he gets, more or less. It’s part of the advantage (if you could call it that) of the Throne of Heroes. Even if he’d cheated the summoning system in a pretty major way, he could still benefit from the knowledge that it granted to any Servant, lest they be totally lost in a new era and the mythologies of the wider world. Latin and Greek, though… Not so much. Those weren’t exactly considered important.

It's his turn to trace out a tattoo, so his fingers glide of those pieces in particular. ]

‘Course. I got a personal philosophy about working hard and playing hard.

[ …Granted. “Work” in Tezcatlipoca’s case is something still yet to be revealed to pretty much anyone, save for Set and Silco, who at least had an inkling of what to expect. ]

What’s it say?

[ His hand stops tracing the letters as he asks, but only so that he can shift into a more comfortable position for sleep to better match Matt. He’s already more ready to settle down for the night with someone next to him, he realizes. ]

[ The easy pattern of Matt's breathing changes at the question. Not quite a stutter, but surprised. It strikes him, as he makes the outsized mental effort it takes to feel certain what Tezca means, that most people don't ask. ]

It says ...

[ Another soft yawn. Now that Matt's horizontal, he can't imagine wanting to do anything but sleep and snuggle. (Well, he can imagine it. He just doesn't want to move.) ]

It's a ward. Against possession by malign spirits or energies. [ At least here, when people do ask, he can tell them the truth without worrying. Part of the truth. ]

Huh.

[ There's a story there, clearly. Tezcatlipoca's gaze drifts back down to the words like he might now be able to see the power in them (he, in fact, does not). But while he's curious and he considers asking, that seems like something that'll dip back into a serious conversation. He's had his fill of those for the evening.

So instead, he just loops an arm around Matt in a lazy half-embrace. It definitely wasn't a joke. He's a cuddler. ]

Well, we remember this conversation tomorrow, we'll chat about it then. For now, let's get some rest before the hangover catches up with us.

[ Matt shifts a little closer when Tezca drapes that arm around him. He's more relieved than he realizes that he isn't going to pursue the topic right now.

Matt doesn't have hard and fast objections to getting into it. Back home, it's like the fact he does magic: a default secret, one he keeps to make life easier. He just feels like he's already been enough of a mess tonight. Surely, even with spare keys to a god's apartment, you've gotta space these things out. ]

Sounds good, [ he murmurs. He can't reach Tezca easily from where he is, apart from the arm that's around him. Matt's thumb brushes the back of Tezca's hand; his head turns briefly, slightly, so he can blow a kiss that comes with a soft sound. Mwah. ] G'night.

[ In Matt's recollection, he's asleep by the time he turns his head back. ]

[ The blown kiss gets him to breathe out a quiet, single note of a laugh, but he doesn’t say anything else in response. It’s just… comfortable to sleep next to someone, so he drifts off to sleep easily. It’s one of the better nights of sleep he’s gotten since arriving in Kenos. It’s also something that he absolutely will not be unpacking.

However. Spoiler: the hangover did catch up with Tezcatlipoca, at least.

The passage of time is impossible to track in Kowloon naturally, since the buzz of the city and the glow of the bioluminescent mushrooms in the giant cavern that houses it are constant. It’s at least a decent amount of sleep by the time Tezcatlipoca stirs. He’d flopped onto his back instead at some point in the night, so he blearily opens his eyes to stare first at the dull ceiling, then automatically towards the window before he remembers, right. No sun here, so who knows what time it is.

He feels like he got hit by a truck, though. He grumbles as he reaches up to rub at his eyes, but he ends up glancing Matt’s way to see how he’s doing. ]

Ffffffffuck… [ just his tone sounds Hungover™ ] You still breathin’?

[ It's not totally wild to think Matt might be dead. He's in the same position he fell asleep in, only having moved to accommodate Tezcatlipoca without waking, and he breathes pretty slow. Closer inspection will show he's doing it, however.

Though no inspection whatsoever is required to perceive his answering hmmm. The tone manages to sound both fond (waking up next to someone is delightful) and aggrieved (the inside of his skull is having a steel-drum concert). ]

You're so loud, [ he mumbles, eyes closed. ] I thought you said Braindance wouldn't do this to me.

[ He does partially roll over when he realizes Matt is exactly as he left him, but he relaxes when he responds. He makes an indistinct noise as he drapes himself back over Matt like he had last night. It’s a little heavier now, but he nestles into Matt’s neck… Sort of. It’s more like he just rests his head like a rock there, but. ]

…Wasn’t the Braindance.

[ He’s at least quieter when he talks into his neck, so! Small win! ]

Probably the vodka… Vodka thing… At the alien penis place…

[ you know the one right matt ]

[ Matt groans as Tezca slumps back onto him. Like his previous indistinct noise, this one is slightly ambivalent: oof combined with ticklish pleasure for the feeling of lips at his neck. It doesn't have to be fancy to feel good. ]

To them we're the aliens, [ he points out. ] Or, I am. I didn't get around to asking how they feel about gods.

[ His memories of the strip club are awesome, if unfortunately hazy. ]

Vodka ... my ancient nemesis.

I definitely count as an alien. From Earth, anyways. Long time ago…

[ It gets muttered into Matt’s neck more and more as he goes. Matt might not pick up on it, or maybe he just assumes he misheard? This would be fair, considering, well. What he said is crazy.

He groans again, then shifts so that he’s not talking directly into Matt’s neck. ]

You want breakfast? Or aspirin?

[ Who knows if Erich von Däniken exists in Matt's urban fantasy world and has a similar alien-god-based output, but the idea isn't totally foreign to him. He sighs something like oh that's interesting. To his mind, what Tezcatlipoca's just said could have at least three distinct interpretations, and his brain is too sleepy and fried to think them all through to their endpoints. ]

I think breakfast would be good for me, [ he decides, after a long moment. He recognizes his current nausea as the kind that abates after eating. ] And maybe a shower?

[ Matt sits up slowly, monitoring the impact on his headache. Nothing too bad: he stretches his arms over his head, first one and then the other, and turns at the waist to regard Tezcatlipoca. ]

[ As Matt shifts, Tezcatlipoca at least lets go of him so that he can sit up and stretch like he wants. He rolls onto his back again and stretches as well. It’s a full extension of his arms and legs, and with the big yawn that comes with it, it’s distinctly feline in impression. Being the patron god of the jaguars means you pick up some of their behavior, or maybe it’s vice versa. Either way, he sits up right after too and scrubs at his face with his hands. ]

I can cook breakfast. Won’t be fancy, but it’ll work. Pacholas n’ eggs?

[ He might not pepper in Spanish as freely as Quetzalcoatl did, but it still rolls smoothly off his tongue in the same way. He grunts as he stands and wanders over to a rickety looking dresser and pulls open a drawer (which squeaks loudly, unfortunately). He grabs a pair of sweatpants and tosses them back towards Matt, then a second pair that he tosses over his shoulder. ]

Shower fuckin’ sucks, as is. Cold as hell unless you got some magic to heat it up. [ He turns back to Matt and shrugs ] I can do it if you don’t care about showerin’ together.

[ Like. He figures not, considering they just spent the night cuddling by virtue of his tiny bed, but. Might as well (half) ask. ]

[ The big yawn and big stretch are pretty cute. Matt can't help a little smile, which broadens at the prospect of breakfast he neither has to cook nor otherwise procure. ]

Pacholas and eggs would make you my hero. [ Matt fumbles for the sweatpants, catching them without too much trouble. His mimicry of Tezcatlipoca's pronunciation is decent, though without his easy fluidity. Matt doesn't know what pachola is, but he doesn't have any food allergies he's aware of and it goes with eggs, so he figures it'll be fine. ] And I always like a good co-shower. [ He regards Tezca curiously for a moment. ] Do you need ...

I know you mentioned not having much magical energy on reserve. Do you want some?

[ Tezcatlipoca's expression stays even as he tugs on the sweatpants, but once Matt gets to the question, he can't help but laugh. Even if it makes his temple ache a little bit with the headache, the consideration is pretty funny in this case because he doesn't expect it. ]

Ha, well, warmin' up the shower is no big. Won't tap into my reserves all that much since it's straightforward.

[ He starts to fuss with his hair next (though Matt gets an appreciative nod as he undoes the braid) as he walks over towards the area of the apartment that could be described as a kitchen. Probably. There's a tiny bit of counterspace and a device that looks like a cheap dual burner, anyways. ]

But tell ya what, we do breakfast first, and if I'm feelin' low after gettin' some food in me, yeah, if you don't mind toppin' me off, wouldn't hurt. Like this is my low power mode, but if I decide to don my armor or my regalia any time soon, gets a little more intense.

[ Matt nods as he takes in the answer, a gesture that slightly exacerbates his own headache. Honestly, a piece of him is tempted to lie right back down and stay curled up with the sweatpants as a makeshift pillow ... but he needs to drink water. ]

Sounds like a plan. [ His legs slide over the edge of the bed. With a bit of flailing, he sticks one leg into Tezca's borrowed sweats, then the other. Stands. ] I don't need much convincing to do magic, so if you decide you want it, just say the word.

[ Matt stretches a little more, then pads over to Tezca. ]

Two follow-up questions. Is there anything breakfastwise I can help with? And can I get a glass.

[ His laughter ends with a soft little chuckle, because they’d talked about it before a bit, but just from how Matt phrases it, well. It might be a surprise what he means, but he’ll leave that for later if it’s needed. Unless “doing magic” is an innuendo, in which case, fair enough, Tezcatlipoca was definitely just going to suck his dick. You know, fluids. ]

Yeah, breakfast will go faster if we split up the work. Got grinding to do, so you wanna tackle the meat or, well, the rest?

[ He kicks open a cabinet and reaches in to grab a pretty sizeable looking mortar and pestle which he sets on the counter, and a cutting board right after. This might not be the most straightforward breakfast, as it turns out… But ironically considering his love of modern things, it’s about all he knows how to do. Considering the state of the Lostbelt he’d come from, his cooking knowledge is still about 1500s at best. ]

But, yeah, glasses— [ He kicks the one cabinet closed, then stands on his toes to open another that’s very awkwardly fitted into place, but grabs two plain looking glasses from it. He hands them both off to Matt, then scoots over to another corner by the window, where he picks up a large jug that’s half-full of water. ]

This is the drinking water, by the way. Wouldn’t drink what comes outta the pipes, personally. There's kinda a hole in that corner, so it stays colder there and probably blocks rats or whatever from coming in.

[ home sweet home ♥ ]

[ Well, when your magical repertoire includes the areas of focus that Matt's does, innuendo is always potentially in play. For the moment, he's blissfully (if headachily) ignorant of Tezcatlipoca's planned tactic. ]

I'm a little better at grinding, [ he notes, taking one of the glasses and the pitcher. The other glass lifts into the air and floats alongside him as he maneuvers for a scrap of surface to pour out on. ] But whatever you need, I can follow directions and I know how to not poison us, so ...

[ Matt pours one glass, which he sets down near Tezca. Pours a second for himself. And sidles around him to replace the pitcher in its original spot. ]

Do rats get in here? I'm learning how to talk to animals, actually.

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