[ Of course, he will begin to preen a little. The attention isn't exactly what he wants, so much as it is the acknowledgment; old habits die hard, and Set has always worked harder than any other god within the Egyptian pantheon to protect, defend and uphold the right of the divine to rule. Acknowledgement is something he lives, breathes and dies for, even if he knows he deserves none of it anymore. Comparatively, his siblings will forever enjoy their bountiful and generous legacies, while he lives in their shadow. ( Knowing, in the end, that he was made for it; that he is being punished for his own ill deeds. Even while others escape theirs. )
His mouth broadens, one corner lifting to bare a slip of tooth, animal-sharp and bright. The man's question does not escape him, nor does the narrowing of his focus; what briefly sets him alight, energy and adrenaline pouring from his chest out to his limbs in a blinding, searing call to action — is the sudden use of power. Magic, he thinks. And oh, magic-users are a chore to deal with for a god built on physical prowess ( and surprisingly, unlike his siblings, nothing magical? curious! ).
The tug of power rips the bust from his grasp, and rather than snatch at it, Set goes low. A crouch that bunches the muscles in his bare thighs before he launches, not for the bust, but for the man himself — aiming to collide with him just as the heavy stone statue drops into his arms. To force him off his feet, using the same knowledge of physics that Matt just relied on to pressure him onto his back. And hey! If he ends up straddling Matt, isn't that a win/win. ]
— really? You have a real god before you, and you want to covet another's image?!
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[ Of course, he will begin to preen a little. The attention isn't exactly what he wants, so much as it is the acknowledgment; old habits die hard, and Set has always worked harder than any other god within the Egyptian pantheon to protect, defend and uphold the right of the divine to rule. Acknowledgement is something he lives, breathes and dies for, even if he knows he deserves none of it anymore. Comparatively, his siblings will forever enjoy their bountiful and generous legacies, while he lives in their shadow. ( Knowing, in the end, that he was made for it; that he is being punished for his own ill deeds.
Even while others escape theirs.)His mouth broadens, one corner lifting to bare a slip of tooth, animal-sharp and bright. The man's question does not escape him, nor does the narrowing of his focus; what briefly sets him alight, energy and adrenaline pouring from his chest out to his limbs in a blinding, searing call to action — is the sudden use of power. Magic, he thinks. And oh, magic-users are a chore to deal with for a god built on physical prowess ( and surprisingly, unlike his siblings, nothing magical? curious! ).
The tug of power rips the bust from his grasp, and rather than snatch at it, Set goes low. A crouch that bunches the muscles in his bare thighs before he launches, not for the bust, but for the man himself — aiming to collide with him just as the heavy stone statue drops into his arms. To force him off his feet, using the same knowledge of physics that Matt just relied on to pressure him onto his back. And hey! If he ends up straddling Matt, isn't that a win/win. ]
— really? You have a real god before you, and you want to covet another's image?!