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KENOS IC CONTACT
© TESSISAMESS
[ Communion with Silco is like being doused in cold, polluted water. It feels like taking a breath is difficult, like there's fingers around your throat, pain all over. The water is too-slick like it's almost more pollutants than water, and the water crashes against you, inescapable, even if you were to somehow find the ability to breathe, there is still no escape from the sickening undertow. Somewhere, perhaps deeper in the water, or something else, is a simmering, vile hatred, resentment, and it feels like it should be hot enough to make the water around you boil, even if it's almost too-placid, and too cold. Like all of this hatred is buried deep. Then again, the fact that it feels so close means it must burn so hot. ]
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[ He said, and there's a note there of something. Thoughtfulness, perhaps. Observation. Not a matter of "want", and it's so similar to something that Set has expressed to him, that he had Every choice, particularly during their last conversation, after he'd stepped into his office with his daughter's shard in his hand, threatening to keep her away from him.
Though, every choice he had made had been so... wrong, lately. Or perhaps it had always been wrong. Had always fallen short.
However, he does not dwell too long on that, because while the difference is stark, and something he wants to think about, there is also the fact that Tezca has said something that is difficult to wrap his head around. 'There are gods that may be equal to me but none that are greater'
His lips twitch. ]
And I assume that the fact that there are equals is... a challenge, yes? Was your sibling an equal?
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Nope. Quetzalcoatl was a piece carved from me. She’s got raw strength on me. Can’t deny that. But I’ve got power she can’t rival. The power of omniscience and providence are my gifts, and I see the unseen and make the impossible possible.
[ He spreads his hands in a wide gesture with a toothy grin, then beckons them further into the temple. And here is where Tezcatlipica’s work already becomes apparent. The butterflies that had once flown around the interior lay in pieces on the floor, and though most had been evacuated, a few hummingbird corpses are strewn about too. He steps up to the dais, and beckons to their friend. ]
And that’s where you come in, bud. We’re going to do a little of the impossible
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Though as they walk in, he really sees what Tezca has been up to. The corpses of butterflies and hummingbirds are obvious. He only gives them a cursory glance, before Tezca encourages their new friend to help him out. ]
You heard him. This is what you came here for.
[ It's encouraging, but a touch of scorn. The guy looked at all the corpses on the ground, before shaking his head, and heading up to join Tezca.
Silco decided that unless invited, he should probably not get involved in this... God Stuff. ]
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I’ll take care of ya, don’t worry. Just lay down here, since I gotta change. It’s gonna feel weird to both of ya, but don’t worry about it.
[ It’s not much of a warning at all, honestly. It’s frustratingly vague, and it’s only as they start to lay down as instructed that Tezcatlipoca does what he says… Technically. It’s surely not what either of them expects.
It’s a familiar feeling to Silco, because it’s a burst of magical energy that’s similar to Quetzalcoatl’s when she had been viciously fighting. However, the feeling of it is totally different. Quetzalcoatl had been hot against the skin, but Tezcatlipica is pressure as golden light surrounds him. It’s a force that bears down like something unseen demands that they kneel. The sacrifice nearly collapses on the platform in surprise as breath is almost forced out of their lungs.
But the light dissipates, and Tezcatlipoca is indeed completely differently dressed. It resembles the sort of clothing that Quetzalcoatl wore, but of course more dark and macabre. But most notable is Tezcatlipoca’s eyes. That pale blue is piercing, like he’s looking deep into the very heart from just a glance.
This is the presence of a Divine Spirit—a terrifying and powerful god in the flesh. ]
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The only time he had, it had been —
Well. Recent. Ish. The power of something looking at him from behind Florence Deshayes' eyes, when she'd held her hand up, and used a power that he had never seen before, speaking a name that had simply — existed, but he hadn't been able to hear — and the power had been immense. It was like this, and as it happens, because Silco is open to it, because he is looking for a miracle of a sort, he sees this. He... perhaps doesn't fully understand it, but he knows what is happening. Or at least there is a part of him that can put together what happens before him.
His fingers tighten into fists, and then he relaxes them. He closed his mouth, he swallowed, and a single eye blinked.
His eyes flicked to the sacrifice, as if he is watching to see what happened with the body, because the brilliance of wherever it was that Tezca is — it is so much that he has to let his eyes drift away, at least momentarily.
Only for a moment, before he forces himself to look at Tezca again. He should not look away out of...whatever emotion it is that bubbles in his chest — fear/jealousy/anger/longing and something else that he cannot quite put a word to yet. ]
Well.
[ His voice somewhat softer than he intended. ]
Are we doing something with all of this power you've manifested?
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It's precisely why his gaze stays on Silco. There’s a judgement taking place here, though Tezcatlipoca doesn’t speak to it at all. For now, he’s simply measuring.
And thus, he laughs at the insolence. ]
Are you feeling impatient? [ His speech is more formal too, and even his words carry more weight. It’s not dissimilar to what he’d experience with “Florence”, though there’s not a total ability to back it up here. ] We are. This is my gift of thanks, but it’s also your learning experience.
[ He’s awfully vague about what that means, but he doesn’t elaborate, since his attention turns to the sacrifice. He places a hand on their forehead, and it seems to be a calming gesture for all that sudden pressure. Then with a nod, he quietly tells them to take off their shirt, which they do with obedience that’s a bit in awe and fear as he speaks. ]
And I give my thanks most to you. You’ve come here willingly and bravely. You will be a child of Ipalnemoani henceforth. With your gift, we will take this temple from a dead god and give it a chance to flourish under new power.
[ With the shirt off, Tezcatlipoca pushes them so that they’re laying on the platform, and with a ritual sort of reverence he moves his hand to place it on their chest. Specifically, it’s over their heart, but neither they or Silco might understand the significance or what Tezcatlipoca might mean to do. He looks at Silco before continuing, though. ]
It’ll be fast, so don’t flinch. This is an offering, so it’s to be treated with respect.
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When Tezca turned to direct their target, and Silco watched him, he put a hand in his pocket, idle.
His lips twitched, and he tipped his head as he said: ]
By all means. I think we should offer respect to our friend for their willingness to participate.
[ He gestured but did not flinch. He fully expected the man to die, and though he feared for his own life... he had no worry about that at the moment. Not when there was someone ripe for the taking right before Tezca. ]
cw: gore...............
Then, give all to I, Ilhuicahua, Tlalticpaque, for your life is a gift that is my sovereign right.
[ Those words are clearer to the threat that Tezcatlipoca possesses, but there’s no time to react. It’s nearly impossible to see how Tezcatlipoca’s hand suddenly pushes forward and cuts through flesh. There are no claws or anything of the sort like Silco had seen on a certain demon, but he’s still able to break through bone and muscle like it poses no obstacle. There’s a crack, a crunch, a wet, wheezed gasp, but it’s still incredibly fast. It’s brutal, but this is mercy.
Because in the moment it takes Tezcatlipoca to push his hand in, he withdraws just as swiftly. Yet, he brings something with him. He leans forward to cradle it in both hands like it’s something precious (for it absolutely is), and he holds it up over the rapidly dying victim.
The heart still beats strongly in his hands, if only for a few moments. ]
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His language is power, after all, the hunger for it, the pursuit of it, the dogged, unending clawing forward toward progress.
Watching this man willingly give up his life for Tezca is unreal to him. Odd, but welcome.
He blinked his single eye but did not even remove a kerchief to mop it off of his face.
He watches the heart beat in his hand, once, twice, thrice. The squelch of blood, the soft thump, thump, thump that fills the space between them. Silco holds his breath and does not speak.
Even a godless man like him can sense the moment. ]
now cw: cannibalism! yay!
The heart stops beating, so he shifts to hold it in one hand while he leans down to close the victim’s eyes with his bloody hand. It smears over their face not unlike the paint that Tezcatlipoca now wears. Yet despite the caring gesture, there is no sense of regret. He’s still strong and certain, and once he’s given them that proper respect, he stands straight again and looks at Silco. He’s appraising yet again. ]
They give their life because they understand the role of gods. All life is because of our efforts. And even gods make sacrifices to create and sustain the people below us.
[ He shifts the heart in his hands in a way that’s clearly readying it, but it’s not totally clear for what. ]
Quetzalcoatl disliked the fact that they needed to give back to us. But that’s the way of things. Life is nourishment, and it’s needed to endure the trials laid out before you. So. Let it be known that this temple is dedicated to those that persevere, not the cowards that allow others to do their work for them.
[ And, with that. Tezcatlipoca bites into the heart. Or rather, tears into it with his more feline teeth as he starts to eat it, warm and raw. ]
🥳
He doesn't understand it, but he can see that it is... something. Tezca is not just a powered individual, but something more. A part of him wants to understand it, or make sense of it. As if he wanted to peel away the reason, the method, the purpose of a being like Tezca being here in Kenos. A part of him — that violent little creature — wants to dismantle that too, but it is slightly tempered now, as if there is a reason to keep it present.
He allowed him his feast with only mild, hidden queasiness. After all, he's eaten worse looking things, although he had never eaten warm raw flesh.
He suspects it would not taste pleasant. ]
She certainly wouldn't have enjoyed this, I think.
[ He says, only after Tezca's enjoyed his meal, and his moment. His lips quirk as if it is a slight joke. ]
Well, I suppose she doesn't have the right to an opinion now, so it does not matter.
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Ha, no way. She was the only one in our family that staunchly refused that people sacrifice themselves.
[ Tezcatlipoca welcomed it, obviously. It was powerful, and it empowered the people. But he wouldn’t deny that it was gruesome. He licks the blood off his fingertips like it was just an especially saucy meal, and it’s credit to that. ]
But that’s why this desecration works. That warm little tickle of energy you feel? That’s her lingering Mana, I’m sure of it. So now that we’ve done some nice sacrilege on her grounds, it’ll go away. Or get overwritten, more accurately.
[ He looks around the temple appraisingly, then reaches down with the blood fingers of his other hand to pick up a luminescent butterfly wing. ]
I can’t say it’ll become my grounds instead, but you won’t feel Meridian linger here anymore.
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[ His eyes tip as he looks around. The energy was there, prescient, but Silco wonders. He'd shattered her, he had thought there would be nothing left of her, once she was gone. ]
How does that work? [ He asked. Silco Has Learned A Lesson From Sebastian. ] I shattered her, I would think the remainder of her energy would simply... [ A snort, as he says: ] dissipate.
[ Still, he looked around with a half-unblinking gaze, eyes swept lazily over the altar, the blood, the remains. His lips twitched, not in humor, nor a flinch, merely a... acknowledgment of the pain that it had gone through. Curious, wasn't it? How he had gone willingly? ]
I think it would be appropriate, were the grounds to become yours. Better than it remain.
[ He wondered how the Zenites would feel, should it stay. a reminder of what they had gone through. ]
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That's divinity. Don't know the specifics of how she made this temple [ like he assumes also Servant stuff but who knows ], but the fact that it's still here means that she's lingering too, in a sense. Being a Divine Spirit means that we're not confined to a physical existence.
[ Not caring about Silco's comfort for Tezcatlipoca's dirty hands, he grabs one (the one that Quetzalcoatl had removed and he's now replaced, in fact), and presses the butterfly wing into his palm. ]
Keep this. [ It's not a request. ] I'll whip you up something special, but it'll take me some time to make it, since I have to do it by hand. But in the interim, this is a token of what you've done. This is proof that I've acknowledged you as having slayed the Feathered Serpent.
[ It doesn't seem like much, of course... By appearances, it's no more than a butterfly wing now stained with blood. But divinity will cling to it because of Tezcatlipoca's touch alone, and while he doesn't think that's something that Silco would need before he can craft him a proper ceremonial chimalli, it's still meaningful for those that would recognize it. ]
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His fingers closed around the wing, and he doesn't mind the blood, it only smears against the graying skin, and he looked down at it with curiosity. ]
Something special?
[ Genuine curiosity, actually. He held the wing in his hand delicately, fingers curled around it, but he didn't crush it. Not if it was to hold some sort of significance. ]
I'll keep this with her shards, how about that. As safe a place as any.
[ He didn't need the acknowledgement, of course, everyone knew he did it, but... this felt different. I purpose for it, rather than merely saying that yes, he had killed her. ]
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[ He’s… not that surprised, actually. That makes sense for Silco with what he knows, but he laughs as the design that he’s been considering changes a little bit with that knowledge. ]
Then I’ll make a place for you to set them into the shield. That’s what I’m making you. It won’t be anything useful to you in a fight, since featherwork and reeds aren’t made to stop bullets, much less magic, but it’ll be something ceremonial and divine. If you ever run into anyone sensitive to that sort of thing, they’ll recognize it for what it is. Same as this temple. Something created by divine hands is something with power.
[ Maybe not the kind of power that Silco seems to crave so deeply… But if he doesn’t understand what kind of power Tezcatlipoca means and how to use it, then that’s merely a lesson he has to learn. Tezcatlipoca is a teacher, but he’s one that forces his pupils into discovery rather than explain his lessons straightforwardly. ]
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He at least doesn't voice the question so obliquely. ]
That's generous of you. I'm sure that her shard will be well-suited to rest within something that you crafted too. Another little twist of irony to top it all off, hm?
[ That, at least, he could read easily. ]
It will have a place, and perhaps those who can recognize it will understand what it means. Or at least we can hope.
[ Like he could? No, Silco understands at least that he can't. He hadn't even really felt the power in the air here. His mind has been opened to the larger world but he is still a human.
Well, Vampire, but. Still pretty human. Give him a few centuries. ]