[ to find one's bare form shameful in any way was not for entities that had been given that precise shape; for humans, it was a randomization of themselves, a mixture of unknowns that sometimes gave shape to beauty and sometimes to not. a god was made precisely, and in that difference of origins, there could be no room for shame; for there to be shame, the gods would have to be thought of as imperfect. they would need to think of themselves imperfectly. ]

Lessa.

[ god of night, like nut. god of death --

he won't consider that right now. all gods served their roles, and all mortal lives required an end.

watching egypt collapse into dust ( not even sand, but dust ), fallen and decaying at an exponential rate within the confines of his own mind was a nightmare. everything he had once sought to prevent had come to pass, as his role as egypt's protector had become wargod had become evil deity. yet, lessa's misery in that loss is not wholly embraced by him. maybe, despite his timeless existence, he still hoped that what he saw had not come to pass, but existed as a warning. a vision of something that would come, if he did not stand against it.

laughable! even stripped of his titles and once-goodly name, he still yearns to protect the land. ]

Maybe they are gone. Maybe what we dreamed was a vision to warn us. I have no confirmation either way, and will demand it of whom or whatever rules this place -- I will have an answer, and then. I will decide if I fight, or mourn.

[ lessa is so much smaller than he, a delicate elder god of fathomless beginnings and endless night; he is more like ra, than set. still, it is comforting to find someone in this place who will comprehend the weight of a god's existence, and the way that their mind worked - so unlike that of a mortal's own. perhaps, that is why he brushes his bare shoulder along lessa's, as demonstrative as clasping the other to him in an embrace, and nods. ]

We must be here for a reason, Lessa. Come, let's find it.