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

[fursuit]

[ 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. ]

Comments

[semicharmed]

[ 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. ]

[fursuit]

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... ]

[semicharmed]

[ 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. ]

[fursuit]

[ 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.

[semicharmed]

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?

[fursuit]

[ 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?

[semicharmed]

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. ]

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

[fursuit]

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.

[semicharmed]

[ 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.

[fursuit]

[ 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, ]

[semicharmed]

[ Matt is decidedly Not Expecting to be bitten on the face, right at the smilingest apple of his cheek. He squeaks in shock, startling back (fortunately, he doesn't smack into anything). ]

Oh my God, [ he protests around a stunned grin. ] Divine retribution, sheesh! [ His attention flashes back to the egg, knowing it to ride an extremely thin line between "perfect, runny" and "overdone mess." A matter of seconds. Matt may not cook complex meals for himself, but some of the simple chemical processes of cooking appeal to him: the phase changes of water to steam, butter to liquid. ] This one's for you, hurry up and grab it before it cooks too much.

[fursuit]

[ Tezcatlipoca laughs too, and he’s clearly enjoying himself. Just… as a whole, honestly. He has affection for his little band of freaks, but all three of them are also deeply serious people. Like, to the point that Tezcatlipoca was the light-hearted one by comparison, and he was a god presiding over some damn depressing topics! So… This is fun. It’s simple, but this just isn’t the kind of thing he gets to do.

As he laughs, he tosses the first patty into the skillet, then nods to the small stack of mismatched plates. All, you know. Three of them. You don’t need much down here in Kowloon. ]

I don’t mind some extra raw meat, but figure you will. Looks good to me, so just grab one of those plates and we’ll share. No reason to get extra stuff dirty.

[semicharmed]

[ Time is of the essence at this point, so Matt snaps up the top plate like a hot potato and tips the egg off the skillet. After it's safely landed, he regards it with tired scrutiny, the same kind he might turn on a spell configuration or a freshly cast enchantment. He's usually less hungover in those circumstances, but you know ... not all the time. ]

Maybe the second one can be for you, [ he decides. Matt cracks a second egg, this time refraining from theft or teasing so as to devote his attention more thoroughly to the process. The second egg cooks faster, and Matt is quicker about sliding it onto the plate to join the first.

A moment later, he turns with plate in hand to see how Tezca's getting on. ]