06-08-2010, 03:27 PM
Oh, more and more to do. So much writing to do! Thoth sighed and scratched the end of his beak, staring thoughtfully at the writing palette in front of him. His eyes glanced around the stone library, viewing the other palettes he had to attend to. He was dreading the others he had to work on, especially the massive pile he eyed by the door; those were the ones he still had to read through. Dammit, did Set really have to go and kill his brother like that? He sighed; just business as usual. He clicked his beak and stood up, sliding the stone palette onto a nearby shelf and crossing his arms. His blue ibis head tilted to one side, reading what he'd scribbled into them. ".. No, no no. No." He took a few down and put them back on the table he worked at, shaking his head in dismay. "Not going to work, not one bit." He cracked his knuckles with a sigh and sat back down to work. "Would it kill Horus to send me a few helpers?" He pulled a small square of torn cloth out of a bag that was tied to his skirt, worrying it between his fingers. "No, no. He's spoilt. Darn you, Isis." Thoth sighed feebly and tucked the cloth back into the bag, taking up his quill and scratching into the soft stone.
Oh, humans be da.mned! Thoth sat up, staring at his hands and blinking his all-too-human eyes in his all-too-human head. His skin was tanned, and from what he could tell his hair was way too long and black. Why black? His feathers were green, dammit. That didn't make an inch of sense, though when he finally got around to looking for a mirror later on, he'd see his eyes were a dark, deep green. He looked around, hearing others in the room, and made a short, panicked sound somewhere between a whine and a sigh. He found the bag that his quill and cloth scrap were in and looked in it dubiously after feeling around inside; his quill didn't feel much like a quill anymore, more like a hard stick - his mind registered it as a "pen"? What in hell was that? - but at least the scrap was there. Just knowing it was there calmed his frayed nerves. He shut his eyes and sighed, shaking his head, and took a mental inventory about what was going on. He was in a human form, in the adolescent years. He still had his green ibis form, though judging from the atmosphere of the room they were in, ibises were not natural to the area. He scratched behind an ear, not used to having them. This was going to be a terrible existence; he'd half a mind to strangle the human who summoned them and given them human forms! Then again, he wasn't really the violent one. He twitched his nose around a bit, not used to it one bit. "Mmph." He crossed his arms, continuing his personal inventory. His one power (that he could verify, anyway) was the ability to gain the knowledge of anybody he touched. Be it a handshake or bumping into them, it could prove useful. Now, his reading habits, that was just probably a freak trait, even among the gods. He didn't think anybody loved reading as much as he did.
Bastet watched the pharaoh pace back and force, unsure of what was bothering him. It seemed that humans always had something worrying them, now and again; all she could do was offer the pharaoh gentle advice in the event of family if he wanted council with the gods. Currently, she was merely observing him. War and battles were never something she looked forward to; violence bothered her, but she would be at the side of the ruler, as she had done for countless battles before, a lioness, roaring proudly. She attempted to cover her mouth as she yawned, though this was an impossible exercise as her cat face yawned far beyond the size of her hand. A short feline smirk crossed her muzzle as she thought of a mild prank she could play on Geb before she turned to the pharoah once more; she wasn't short of mischief, not at all, but sometimes she couldn't help herself to a short bout of it. The pharaoh explained, mainly to the viziers, that what ailed him was not worth an impending war. This gave Bastet great relief, and she left immediately; if it wasn't of personal issue or war, she wanted no part of it.
Bastet opened her dark amber eyes, staring up into at the dark ceiling of the room. There were others in the room, that much she could tell; and she heard Thoth's tell-tale whimpering sigh. How did he get here? she wondered briefly. For that matter, how did any of us get here. Normally, the ritual should have at the very least placed them in Egypt, correct? Then why this odd, foreign place? Unless this was Egypt, just not the one she remembered and loved. No, it wasn't Egypt. The air wasn't right. Anubis likely knew more. He always did, him and Thoth. She brushed a hand across her face, feeling bronze skin in place of gray fur, and her hand slid into her hair. The darkness didn't bother her; she was able to see just fine, a carry-over of her feline traits and what she assumed was her only power other than shapeshifting. Though, perhaps her ability to calm others was still viable as a human? She was able to turn into a cat, though whether her lioness form was accessible was unknown; she wasn't about to try it in a cramped environment. So far, she was able to pick out Thoth, Horus, Set, and Anubis; who else had been summoned?
High dive into frozen waves where the past comes back to life. Fight fear for the selfish pain;
It was worth it every time. Hold still right before we crash 'cause we both know how this ends.
A clock ticks 'til it breaks your glass and I drown in you again,
'Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn't need. Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don't know why!
If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?