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. ]

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[ 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.

Then should be no problem. Stuff you'll be grinding up can't even poison us. Well, unless it's already bad I guess, but just give the egg a sniff before you pour it in.

[ He'll at least start gathering the ingredients for Matt since they'll take a bit longer considering it needs to be a paste. But just from the kinds of things he grabs (onion, chilies, some unlabeled spices), it seems like it'll be something a little spicy! ]

Yeah, saw one at least. He didn't stick around long, though. Can't talk to 'em, but I assume my vibes are pretty bad to rodents. [ He snickers at the joke as he starts to just haphazardly toss the spices into a little bowl. Vibes based spicing means it'll be good. ] If you see one, feel free to tell 'em that as long as they stay outta my stuff, we're cool.

[ Matt sips his water for a moment, peering at the ingredients as Tezca pulls them out. His lips twitch for the observation: cats and rodents, he gets it. ]

I'll do my best. I might practice on some other animals first to make sure I don't accidentally tell them something offensive.

[ The scent of spices wafts to his nose, drawing an approving hum. Matt's attracted to strong flavors and interesting textures, so it's all shaping up just fine by him. For now, he doesn't hover (insofar as it's possible in a space this small), but focuses on draining his glass. ]

[ He half-laughs (gently, because that headache, ow) with a nod ]

Yeah, if you're gonna be a dick to 'em, don't do it in my place, at least.

[ He hands the bowl off to Matt to add to the mortar, as well as quickly grabbing a pretty stale chunk of bread that he tosses to him too. The bowl contains spices, some dried onion, and chiles, and he heads over to the extremely basic verging on questionable icebox. He grabs a carton out of it and gives it a sniff, but with a nod, pours in some cream. And finally, he hands off an egg for Matt to crack into it. ]

There we go. Just grind all that up till it's a nice paste. When your arm's nice and tired, that's probably halfway there. [ He snickers, then leans back down to start pulling out some Various Meats ] This was somethin' I made in Mictlan a lot. Easy for everyone in my crew to take a sec to eat, even the busybodies.

[ Matt tips the contents of the bowl into the mortar, then accepts the bread and uses his fingers to rip it into smaller chunks. He steps out of the way as Tezcatlipoca adds cream, but the narration must note that he doesn't step that far out of the way. His head and eyes are aching, but he'd have to be closer to legally dead not to appreciate the pleasant gravity of brushing near to someone else.

He muses over the egg for a moment, sniffs, and cracks it over the other ingredients. ]

I can't believe you'd do this to me first thing in the morning, [ he grouses pleasantly, taking up the pestle. Matt had a mortar and pestle back in student apartment, but he mainly used his for grinding up herbs. And it was a lot smaller. He gets right to work, though, adding after a moment to get going, ] You cooked for everybody?

[ He starts pulling out a few paper-wrapped objects, but it’s easy to guess it’s meat from how they’re tied off with twine. It’s partially just Kenos as a whole, but it’s fitting to Tezcatlipoca himself too. He might style himself in a modern way and talk to match it, but there are parts about him that feel much older than that. Such as, you know, going through this much effort for a meal he calls simple. ]

Hey, what can I say. I put people through their paces. Even if that’s just hungover food prep.

[ He laughs as he tosses the parcels up to the single bit of counter space, then opens up another cabinet so he can grab a (very large) butcher’s knife. He doesn’t have a meat grinder, so he’ll be doing it the very manual way. ]

Yeah, ended up that way.

[ He explains while he gets to work, though as he opens up each parcel, he does give it a sniff too… At least his nose is more sensitive so he’ll know it’s good to eat, as a smell mercy. ]

Had a weird little group where none of ‘em could cook. My little sister Tlaloc was new to visitin’ the world, so she wasn’t used to the idea of needing to eat at all, so no cooking skill at all there. Izcalli was a teixiptla and a king, so ain’t something he ever learned in the first place, not that he should be cookin’ because of the former anyways. Ironically.

[ He doesn’t explain the term, but it’s ironic because the whole purpose of the teixiptla was to impersonate Tezcatlipoca… ]

And Daybit… [ He trails off with a thoughtful noise, since how to explain… ] Well, never asked, but I figure he has no idea how to cook. Ain’t the kinda guy that eats for the enjoyment of it, so his natural preference for food is shit. Figured I could at least do him better than that.

[ All to say that it's understated, but he's still someone that looks after other people. ]

[ Matt chuckles in a huff at the remark about putting people through their paces. But he's quiet as he listens to Tezcatlipoca's answer: The physical demands of the mortar and pestle make casual chatting more of an undertaking.

Izcalli doesn't ring a bell to him, but he brightens noticeably at the mention of Tlaloc. As with Quetzalcoatl, the pronouns being different than those he's familiar doesn't slow him down at all; his battered brain immediately occupies itself with recalling tidbits of epithet and codex. What does give him pause is the name "Daybit."

That doesn't sound like Nahuatl ... ]

That was nice of you to do, [ he says. He leans a bit harder on the pestle, starting to put his arm into it. ] I guess I'm more on their end of things. I can barely feed myself, only I have absolutely no excuse.

[ That is, Matt appreciates the sensory pleasures of good food. But with a limited budget and so many demands on his time back home, cooking for himself hadn't been a focus. ]

Eh, I'd call it practical more than nice. Wasn't an everyday thing. Just didn't always have copious offerings from the people of Mictlan to tide us over, so I filled in the gaps.

[ He gets to chopping at this point, and he's, uh. Adept with a knife. Maybe that's not a surprise, considering, but it is Notable. ]

But, ha, no matter what, you're not as bad as he is. [ He does laugh more as he thinks about it, then shrugs. ] It's a crazy fuckin' story, but easiest to just say he has, I dunno, turbo amnesia. I never asked because even if I taught him how to cook anything, he wouldn't remember it the next day. So. No need, right?

[ And there's just a little bit of a soft smile on his face for a moment, but he's quickly back to joking around. ]

'Course, playing chef and caretaker ain't my usual kind of gig, so don't get the wrong idea. At this rate, you're going to think that I'm a nice guy or something.

[ There's some teasing in his tone, but that just makes it hard to tell whether that comment is lightly self-deprecating or serious... ]

[ The mention of offerings intrigues him. Matt wonders if they were purely literal--raw meat and maize, perhaps--or if they're a little more ephemeral than that. Marigolds for Tlaloc, obsidian and fleshly mortification for Tezcatlipoca. In contrast, the explanation about Daybit makes him frown, a soft chill running down his spine. Matt's mind is an imperfect governor, he well knows, but he'd be terrified to have even less of it than he does now. To have his memories slip away from him like that.

Unfortunately, Tezca's suspicion is right: Matt does think he might be a nice guy. Or at least, that the picture he sketches of their relationship is an exceedingly kind one. He shifts, taking the tiny number of steps it requires to go from polite kitchen distance to crowding Tezca's space. He leans in, tips his head. Smudges a kiss to Tezcatlipoca's jaw. ]

I know who you are.

[ Matt steps back. He picks up the pestle again and returns to his grinding, the break having somewhat reset him.

He doesn't know Tezcatlipoca well, of course. And as Tezca's pointed out recently, to know a god perfectly may be an impossibility for a human mind. But he knows, at least, that Tezcatlipoca is a being pleased at the destruction of the Feathered Serpent. Brother and ancient rival both. That his habit of sharp, gleaming assessment could be used to learn exactly what a person needs, where they're weakest--and turn the knowledge to either balm or blood. ]

[ He’s surprised when Matt steps in for the tender little gesture, but he still leans into it. Part of it is just turning his head since he’d expected Matt might want something and catching the kiss more firmly as a result, but the other part… He smiles warmly with a short laugh as he looks back to the task of chopping meat.

He does wonder about that, but he doesn’t feel much of anything for the potential misunderstanding. There’s no disappointment at being misunderstood or even really a want to be understood, because it’s his very nature to be somewhat unknowable. If anything, he feels a bit of empathy for Matt’s sake. Maybe it’s somewhat unfair for a person to meet him as this—a vessel that doesn’t carry the immediate weight of his divinity. As something that appears human.

…But it’s also not something he takes all that seriously. It’s a rare opportunity on his part too, so he wants to indulge in it before it’s gone. For him, this is the equivalent of a forced vacation since he fully expects to step back into his duties eventually. ]

I mean, you definitely got a unique picture of me, that’s for sure. Bein’ a Servant is mostly a major downgrade for me, but it’s got its perks. I can be grateful that the World snatched me up in this form rather than tryin’ to grab me in full. Smart of it, actually.

[ He definitely speaks about Kenos like the world itself is something with will and intent, though this is just because it’s how it works in his (canon) world. ]

I’ll just have to see how your picture of me develops over time, yeah? Imagine it’ll be a little different once I start kickin' up some conflict myself.

Yeah. I guess it will be.

[ It's true that it's easy to know a thing academically. Harder to square it fully with Tezcatlipoca's laugh and his exceedingly grounded presence here, making breakfast in a tiny apartment. Still, when Matt has his inevitable moment of realization, he won't be able to say he wasn't warned.

He makes a note to ask about what the word servant means in this context, though perhaps later. For now, he thinks he understands enough to get by before coffee. That Tezcatlipoca has been confined here to a vessel smaller than what he really is, either by Yima or the forces that animate Kenos itself.

A few minutes later, his arm is definitely hurting again. He holds out the mortar for Tezca's inspection. ]

How'm I doing?

[ Luckily/conveniently, it’s about as long as it takes for Tezcatlipoca to chop up all the meat to a ground consistency. He taps the knife against his cutting board to free up the remaining little pieces, then glances over to evaluate Matt’s work, but it’s easy to judge at a glance. ]

Yep, perfect. These are real thin anyways, so the paste doesn’t have to be perfect, just enough to keep the meat all stuck together.

[ He takes the mortar and starts to scrape it out into the meat to mix it all together, then nods towards another cabinet. ]

I got exactly two skillets, so we have just enough. You do the eggs, I make the
pacholas?

Yesss, [ Matt cheers, gratefully relinquishing the mortar and reaching for the cabinet. He comes down with the promised skillets. ] Scrambled, sunny side up? The options decline sharply after that.

[ While he awaits the verdict, he sets one skillet down on what's become Tezcatlipoca's unofficial side of the kitchen and retrieves his glass. Turns to the corner for a refill. The water doesn't cure his headache, but it tastes nice. It feels good going down. ]

Don't forget to hydrate. Human bodies tend to need a lot more water than you think they're gonna.

[ He hopes that doesn't come off condescending. In fairness, the reminder applies equally to him. ]

Tch… Are you criticizing a god?

[ Tezcatlipoca elbows Matt, but it’s more playful than something that comes from offense. Luckily it’s something he can take in… some stride. It does still sting his pride a bit, but after nearly a year of Daybit’s blunt criticisms and not needing to lead by example here in Kenos, Tezcatlipoca can take the suggestions more easily.

He grabs a bottle of cooking oil from the counter and gives both skillets a drizzle before turning on the burners, but after that he starts to form the meat into very thin patties. With how thin he’s making them, it at least makes more sense that this is a quick meal, minus the prep. They definitely won’t take long to cook.

Also, he steals Matt’s glass to take a drink of water. So, there. You can tell that he has a strong association with cats through his little bursts of pettiness, honestly… ]

Sunny-side, by the way. [ He’d probably just also eat it raw, but. ] Least eggs don’t fuck me up so bad.

[ Matt laughs, full of faux-indignation for the elbowing and the theft of his glass. ]

Oh, [ he says, making a swipe for the glass he'd set down for Tezcatlipoca. Turnabout is fair play! ] So random people can fight you on the road, but I can't give health tips.

[ He, too, takes a purloined sip. In Matt's case, he's motivated by a sense of playful mischief, one that tends to rear its head when the vibes are right (or: when they're exactly wrong). He does get back to business quickly though, retrieving an egg and cracking it over the skillet. ]

Does food taste better when you steal it? [ he muses, watching the egg with hawklike diligence. A somewhat bedraggled hawk missing out on restful sleep, but still. ] I think your water tasted nicer than mine.

[ He scoffs, but he’s at least amused that Matt is playing along. It’s definitely the kind of thing where he’s reminded of his new position in the cosmic hierarchy surprisingly starkly, because truly, no one would dare in lands he ruled or if he was presenting all his divinity. He doesn’t hate it, though. He’s not a god that desired to be human or something silly like that, but he doesn’t dislike the novelty of casual treatment, essentially. ]

Yeah, of course! They’re fighting me to prove themselves. Totally different!

[ It is, sure, but. Is that really the point here, no. He does have his hands dirty at the moment and at least won’t be as rude as to get raw meat on Matt (especially while he is actually helping with getting them fed), but. In true cat fashion, he leans over to just, you know. Bite Matt’s cheek. It’s still mischievous too, so no need to worry about his fangs, at least. ]

You got some kinda nerve stealin’ from me too!

[ He says, after biting him, ]

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

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why was there a linebreak there LMFAO.... oh well

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