"If you can think of a way I can make rent without dealing with mortals, I am all ears, really, I don't even mean that sarcastically. The trouble with violent gods is they all think they know best, so unless I were to start some underground sort of fight club with entrance fee, I don't see how I can make money off of that, but maybe I'm missing something." Touch or sarcastic, of asshole, as always, it was Set, and he would never change. He fought an eyeroll at least, that was being nice.
"I need many drinks, but I'm not drinking around you, not that I'VE ever been the object of your affection," and there it was, the conversation he had dearly not wanted to start, begun, thrown out there. Fuck.