Dover
bad joke dispensary
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Fantasy Child of the Stars | boo & Dover
- Thread starter Dover
- Start date
Dover
bad joke dispensary
ARTEM || DEITY OF THE MOON
In hindsight, shrieking while they plummeted toward the Earth had been low on the list of good ideas. If Artem ever repeated the process, they were going to keep their mouth shut, because if they didn't, as they had just discovered, the likelihood of getting a mouthful of dirt was pretty high. It turned out that no manner of coughing and hacking cleared the taste of dirt out of one's mouth either. Dirt tasted singularly awful.
Panting as they caught their breath, Artem flipped onto their back from where they had landed face-first into the ground. A cloud of dust from their impact still danced in the air and gradually floated back down, coating Artem in a fine speckling of earth. Almost cuttlefish-like, their skin pulsed and shifted for a moment, flickering through various shapes and forms before settling. It felt odd to shift. The ability was second nature to them—as integral a part of them as moving the moon itself through the sky—but that time was off. It was like it had stuttered a moment before doing what they wanted. Weird.
The shift had settled, though, and on one of their more favoured forms as of late. Light brown skin, a mess of gently curling black hair that hung about their shoulders, pale grey eyes, and a light smattering of freckles that was entirely disrupted by the dirt smeared across their face. Their robes were equally in a state—the delicate blues and whites now rent to smudged brown tatters.
Everything just looked and felt strange. There was an unpleasant, unfamiliar feeling all over their body, but it almost paled in comparison to what sight above them that they could not make sense of. Logically, Artem was aware that they were staring at the sky of the Earth, though from an angle they'd never seen before. For some reason, they'd expected the sky to be whiter than it was. From both the moon and the Celestial Plane, the Earth had always looked like a weird little dark blue and white shape. The dark blue being the seas and the white the cloudy skies, of course. But from this angle, the sky was just a pale blue and there was not a single cloud to mar it. Something far too bright and uncomfortable glared down at them, and Artem had to stop looking at it. Coloured splotches danced in their vision as they tried to take in their surroundings.
Plant life dropped on either side of Artem's head, and they pushed it aside as they forced themself to sit up with a punctuated groan. Their body hurt, they realized after a moment. They'd experienced hurt before, though Artem couldn't recall if it was exactly like this. It had been so long ago, and at the time, they'd been so preoccupied with the whole springing-into-being thing. Right now, it felt like the very air around them was trying to push them to lie back on the ground. But they were nothing if not stubborn.
A massive gash trailed from the ground, leading to where Artem had dragged and eventually come to rest. The plants there had not survived the impact and lay in the shallow trench, broken and crushed. Poor plants. They hadn't meant to do that. Fruitlessly, Artem tried to stand one reedy looking one back up, but it snapped in another place, and with a wince, they left it as is.
Despite the aching of their body, Artem tried to get to their feet. It was an ungainly process, knees knocking together as they wobbled, tipped much too far to one side, and then dropped face-first into the ground again. Thankfully, this time they had the good sense to keep their mouth closed. Why did everything feel so heavy? Stubbornly, Artem pushed themself up to a sitting position again. That bright thing in the sky beat down harshly on them. What even was that-- Oh! Oh! The sun! It was the sun!
"Khosu?" Artem called out, entirely unsure if they wanted a reply or not. On one hand, it would mean they weren't in this terrifying and unusual experience alone. On the other hand, it was Khosu, and he could always be counted on to make any situation more difficult than it had to be. Artem glanced around anxiously. Yeah, no, they'd take the difficulty of Khosu's personality over being alone.
"Khosu? Didja fall nearby, buddy?"
Shakily, Artem tried to get to their feet once more.
Panting as they caught their breath, Artem flipped onto their back from where they had landed face-first into the ground. A cloud of dust from their impact still danced in the air and gradually floated back down, coating Artem in a fine speckling of earth. Almost cuttlefish-like, their skin pulsed and shifted for a moment, flickering through various shapes and forms before settling. It felt odd to shift. The ability was second nature to them—as integral a part of them as moving the moon itself through the sky—but that time was off. It was like it had stuttered a moment before doing what they wanted. Weird.
The shift had settled, though, and on one of their more favoured forms as of late. Light brown skin, a mess of gently curling black hair that hung about their shoulders, pale grey eyes, and a light smattering of freckles that was entirely disrupted by the dirt smeared across their face. Their robes were equally in a state—the delicate blues and whites now rent to smudged brown tatters.
Everything just looked and felt strange. There was an unpleasant, unfamiliar feeling all over their body, but it almost paled in comparison to what sight above them that they could not make sense of. Logically, Artem was aware that they were staring at the sky of the Earth, though from an angle they'd never seen before. For some reason, they'd expected the sky to be whiter than it was. From both the moon and the Celestial Plane, the Earth had always looked like a weird little dark blue and white shape. The dark blue being the seas and the white the cloudy skies, of course. But from this angle, the sky was just a pale blue and there was not a single cloud to mar it. Something far too bright and uncomfortable glared down at them, and Artem had to stop looking at it. Coloured splotches danced in their vision as they tried to take in their surroundings.
Plant life dropped on either side of Artem's head, and they pushed it aside as they forced themself to sit up with a punctuated groan. Their body hurt, they realized after a moment. They'd experienced hurt before, though Artem couldn't recall if it was exactly like this. It had been so long ago, and at the time, they'd been so preoccupied with the whole springing-into-being thing. Right now, it felt like the very air around them was trying to push them to lie back on the ground. But they were nothing if not stubborn.
A massive gash trailed from the ground, leading to where Artem had dragged and eventually come to rest. The plants there had not survived the impact and lay in the shallow trench, broken and crushed. Poor plants. They hadn't meant to do that. Fruitlessly, Artem tried to stand one reedy looking one back up, but it snapped in another place, and with a wince, they left it as is.
Despite the aching of their body, Artem tried to get to their feet. It was an ungainly process, knees knocking together as they wobbled, tipped much too far to one side, and then dropped face-first into the ground again. Thankfully, this time they had the good sense to keep their mouth closed. Why did everything feel so heavy? Stubbornly, Artem pushed themself up to a sitting position again. That bright thing in the sky beat down harshly on them. What even was that-- Oh! Oh! The sun! It was the sun!
"Khosu?" Artem called out, entirely unsure if they wanted a reply or not. On one hand, it would mean they weren't in this terrifying and unusual experience alone. On the other hand, it was Khosu, and he could always be counted on to make any situation more difficult than it had to be. Artem glanced around anxiously. Yeah, no, they'd take the difficulty of Khosu's personality over being alone.
"Khosu? Didja fall nearby, buddy?"
Shakily, Artem tried to get to their feet once more.
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boo.
the price we pay
KHOSU || DEITY OF THE SUN
Was it too late to apologize?
Not to Artem. To anyone but Artem. Actually, to everyone but Artem. Maybe a nice little card with some pressed flowers and a teabag and a 'sorry for breaking the Celestial Compass even if it was 80% their fault.' He might even break out one of his rare apologetic smiles for the occasion, make it a real special thing that he was making an effort to cover up for Artem's mistakes. Their punishment could be decided once he figured out how to fix everything—and the first step to doing that, of course, was to revoke their Compass privileges in the first place.
Yes, Khosu had decided that this was a good plan, and he'd put it into action just as soon as he stopped falling.
He wasn't entirely foreign to the concept, although gravity was admittedly something he usually imposed and wasn't subject to. With the way he twisted and turned in the air, gold-tipped wings flailing helplessly like autumn leaves, you might have thought he was a kite that had lost the wind, only a little bigger and a lot heavier. He didn't really feel like a kite, though; he felt more like a stone chucked from a moving train, pulled by two forces at once and moving so fast that the world around him blurred into a paint-splotch mess.
What was this world, by the way? The further he fell, the more he felt... dense. Thick? He wasn't sure how he felt about that word but it did describe how he could feel the wind parting around him like he was moving through syrup. Atmosphere wasn't really something you ran into in the Celestial Plane.
Oh, and something was approaching. The ground? The ground. Khosu was a little preoccupied and noticed it probably a little too late, but that didn't stop his instincts from kicking in and wings from unfurling with a painful snap as the air billowed beneath them. He might have cried out, but the sound was stolen the moment it left his lips, replaced with the scream of the wind and his own blood rushing through his ears.
Blood? Blood? Does that always happen?
As graceful as an albatross, which was to say not at all, he met the earth still going far too fast and tumbled like a rag doll, wings whipping this way and that, shedding golden feathers at each skid over the grass. The breath—breath?—was knocked from his lungs and even after he came to a stop, he struggled to reinflate them, lips parted and gasping for air. His vision continued to tumble and his wings collapsed on either side of him, hiding him in a sort of grass-stained golden cocoon as he pressed his forehead to the dirt and waited.
Breathed.
In, out.
I'm going to kill them.
On cue, their weak voice reached his ears and while he couldn't exactly process what they were saying, they were certainly using words, which meant they were here and alive and had most likely suffered the same fate as him. In one fluid movement, Khosu surged to his feet—
—and immediately regretted it.
He'd never emptied his stomach before, not in his countless millennia of existence, but he was quite sure that even if he had, there was no way he could have gotten used to it. Falling to his knees, he lurched over the broken grass and retched, his huge wings flinching and trembling with each round of nausea, until all he was doing was coughing on nothing and spitting out the foul taste in his mouth. Cold sweat prickled on his brow and raced down his spine, and his hands and knees nearly gave out from under him, although he curled his fingers into the dirt, getting it beneath his nails, and forced himself to stay. Nothing could keep him down, not the way his head pounded and ached, nor the way his wings were starting to burn, which was a weird thing to say considering they often sparkled with bits of flame and caused no pain at all.
When he lifted his head, he had to blink furiously to get his eyes to focus on the strange, vibrant world around him. He was in the middle of a field of soft grass with trees on the other side of the low stone wall a few hundred feet in front of him; the breeze tickled his curls and laughed by his ear, no doubt mocking him for his fall from grace. Everything was so green and blue—and what was that?
The blinding glow in the sky?
A hoarse cry gurgled in his throat as he tried to get back to his feet again, even as his legs trembled and threatened to give out like a newborn foal's. "No, we can—fix this! Don't be so drastic!" He screamed with his head thrown back to the sky—Earth's sky—stumbling in circles as his wingtips dragged on the ground, so heavy a weight that he could hardly bear them. "This doesn't solve anything, you—idiots! You can't—" His voice trailed off with something that might have been a sob, if it wasn't so twisted with hatred when his gaze finally landed on Artem, who sat stupidly in the grass just a little distance away.
His lips curled with a snarl. "You."
With his rage more acutely directed, he began to stalk toward them, tiny flames dancing at the corners of his eyes. "I've had it. This is the last time you make a fool out of me." Figurative steam puffed from his nose—or was it actually? Such a small observation hardly mattered when the literal God of the Sun had decided this was your last day of seeing anything. His footsteps quickened, and the grass curled and shriveled beneath his feet, scorched of life.
But before he could reach them, a sharp pain raced through his wings and into his shoulders and he faltered, letting out a huff of discomfort, and looked over his shoulder just in time to see the trail of feathers he was leaving behind. And not just a few here and there—mounds and mounds were sloughing off, glittering in the grass.
"NO!" Khosu grabbed at a wing, bringing it around to his front, and another handful came off at the slightest touch. He shivered with revulsion at the feeling, dropping them like they were infected. His beautiful wings? How could those be taken from him? Once more he whipped around to Artem, although this time something like fear joined the anger. "What have you done?"
Not to Artem. To anyone but Artem. Actually, to everyone but Artem. Maybe a nice little card with some pressed flowers and a teabag and a 'sorry for breaking the Celestial Compass even if it was 80% their fault.' He might even break out one of his rare apologetic smiles for the occasion, make it a real special thing that he was making an effort to cover up for Artem's mistakes. Their punishment could be decided once he figured out how to fix everything—and the first step to doing that, of course, was to revoke their Compass privileges in the first place.
Yes, Khosu had decided that this was a good plan, and he'd put it into action just as soon as he stopped falling.
He wasn't entirely foreign to the concept, although gravity was admittedly something he usually imposed and wasn't subject to. With the way he twisted and turned in the air, gold-tipped wings flailing helplessly like autumn leaves, you might have thought he was a kite that had lost the wind, only a little bigger and a lot heavier. He didn't really feel like a kite, though; he felt more like a stone chucked from a moving train, pulled by two forces at once and moving so fast that the world around him blurred into a paint-splotch mess.
What was this world, by the way? The further he fell, the more he felt... dense. Thick? He wasn't sure how he felt about that word but it did describe how he could feel the wind parting around him like he was moving through syrup. Atmosphere wasn't really something you ran into in the Celestial Plane.
Oh, and something was approaching. The ground? The ground. Khosu was a little preoccupied and noticed it probably a little too late, but that didn't stop his instincts from kicking in and wings from unfurling with a painful snap as the air billowed beneath them. He might have cried out, but the sound was stolen the moment it left his lips, replaced with the scream of the wind and his own blood rushing through his ears.
Blood? Blood? Does that always happen?
As graceful as an albatross, which was to say not at all, he met the earth still going far too fast and tumbled like a rag doll, wings whipping this way and that, shedding golden feathers at each skid over the grass. The breath—breath?—was knocked from his lungs and even after he came to a stop, he struggled to reinflate them, lips parted and gasping for air. His vision continued to tumble and his wings collapsed on either side of him, hiding him in a sort of grass-stained golden cocoon as he pressed his forehead to the dirt and waited.
Breathed.
In, out.
I'm going to kill them.
On cue, their weak voice reached his ears and while he couldn't exactly process what they were saying, they were certainly using words, which meant they were here and alive and had most likely suffered the same fate as him. In one fluid movement, Khosu surged to his feet—
—and immediately regretted it.
He'd never emptied his stomach before, not in his countless millennia of existence, but he was quite sure that even if he had, there was no way he could have gotten used to it. Falling to his knees, he lurched over the broken grass and retched, his huge wings flinching and trembling with each round of nausea, until all he was doing was coughing on nothing and spitting out the foul taste in his mouth. Cold sweat prickled on his brow and raced down his spine, and his hands and knees nearly gave out from under him, although he curled his fingers into the dirt, getting it beneath his nails, and forced himself to stay. Nothing could keep him down, not the way his head pounded and ached, nor the way his wings were starting to burn, which was a weird thing to say considering they often sparkled with bits of flame and caused no pain at all.
When he lifted his head, he had to blink furiously to get his eyes to focus on the strange, vibrant world around him. He was in the middle of a field of soft grass with trees on the other side of the low stone wall a few hundred feet in front of him; the breeze tickled his curls and laughed by his ear, no doubt mocking him for his fall from grace. Everything was so green and blue—and what was that?
The blinding glow in the sky?
A hoarse cry gurgled in his throat as he tried to get back to his feet again, even as his legs trembled and threatened to give out like a newborn foal's. "No, we can—fix this! Don't be so drastic!" He screamed with his head thrown back to the sky—Earth's sky—stumbling in circles as his wingtips dragged on the ground, so heavy a weight that he could hardly bear them. "This doesn't solve anything, you—idiots! You can't—" His voice trailed off with something that might have been a sob, if it wasn't so twisted with hatred when his gaze finally landed on Artem, who sat stupidly in the grass just a little distance away.
His lips curled with a snarl. "You."
With his rage more acutely directed, he began to stalk toward them, tiny flames dancing at the corners of his eyes. "I've had it. This is the last time you make a fool out of me." Figurative steam puffed from his nose—or was it actually? Such a small observation hardly mattered when the literal God of the Sun had decided this was your last day of seeing anything. His footsteps quickened, and the grass curled and shriveled beneath his feet, scorched of life.
But before he could reach them, a sharp pain raced through his wings and into his shoulders and he faltered, letting out a huff of discomfort, and looked over his shoulder just in time to see the trail of feathers he was leaving behind. And not just a few here and there—mounds and mounds were sloughing off, glittering in the grass.
"NO!" Khosu grabbed at a wing, bringing it around to his front, and another handful came off at the slightest touch. He shivered with revulsion at the feeling, dropping them like they were infected. His beautiful wings? How could those be taken from him? Once more he whipped around to Artem, although this time something like fear joined the anger. "What have you done?"
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Dover
bad joke dispensary
ARTEM || DEITY OF THE MOON
It was either the crushing weight of Earth's gravity again or the startling scream from Khosu that set Artem heavily on their ass again. Over the many eons of their lives, they'd seen a whole host of emotions on their counterpart, but never in all that time could they recall seeing anguish. Annoyance or anger typically was the most prevalent. Whether that was Khosu's default state or just something they put on special for Artem, they did not know.
Likewise, stunned silence was not really a state that Artem usually fell into. Their moments of silence typically only happened when they were alone in their quarters or when they took the odd moment on the moon itself when they needed time to think. They were silent this time, though, even as Khosu's anguish tinged bitter with hatred. All Artem could focus on were Khosu's wings. They were gnarled, horrid things now—barely resembling their once brilliant form. Feathers pulled away like dying Autumn leaves in a heavy breeze.
"You."
"Me?" Artem asked, pointing at themself.
They swallowed hard, and still on the ground, they shuffled back on their hands, feet kicking at the dirt as they tried to propel themselves backward. This, Artem was familiar with. Khosu's rage had been turned on them many a time. It always resulted in harsh words or attempted strangulation or brawls where they lashed at each other with their rivaling powers of fire and water.
"I've had it. This is the last time you make a fool out of me."
Artem scowled. "I think you did that just fine all by yourself."
Which, was probably the wrong thing to say, because Khosu stalked forward faster, and Artem scrambled further back. They cringed as Khosu's wings trailed behind him like some mockery of a gown, leaving fallen feathers in the grass. Artem's stomach churned in disgust as another clump came off in Khosu's hands. It was awful. No matter what Khosu had done, he didn't deserve that kind of punishment. Something spiked in Artem's chest. Pain? Were they hurt? Sadness? Just empathy for what had happened to Khosu's wings? It stabbed at them again. No, guilt. Guilt for pushing Khosu so far. If they just hadn't said--
"What have you done?"
The feeling twisted into something dark and ugly as it settled in the base of Artem's chest. Of course. Fool that they were for thinking even for a second that Khosu didn't deserve everything that was coming for him.
"You're the one that had a temper tantrum and smashed the Celestial Compass," Artem snapped.
Artem was under no pretension that they could take Khosu in a fight. He was a much older deity, one of the Sky-Mother's most favoured even if Artem had eventually been awarded that title as well, and he had a control over his abilities that Artem wasn't sure their softer, water-based powers could ever compare to. Artem could say the most biting things, though. Things that could hit and strike in ways that cut deeper than physical harms often could. That's how they'd both gotten into this mess in the first place. They had a mind to do it again.
With that uncomfortable feeling still contorting inside them, Artem stopped fleeing backward and grit their teeth. They'd say it again. That awful thing they'd said to Khosu that they knew preyed on every insecurity he had. They'd use Khosu's own form to do it.
The shift started to grip their form and then everything pitched sideways.
Everything was wrong. The shift went in too many different directions. Skin went spiky and painful. Their very bones seemed to jitter in place. They flashed between dozens of malformed shifts in the blink of an eye, each more chaotic and inhuman than the last. Something in the configuration of their insides wasn't right and their brain hadn't come together properly and it was too dark and too painful and they felt as if they'd been stretched across the entire expanse of the solar system and it wouldn't stop and--
Artem came back to themself with their cheek pressed against the hard ground. When had they fallen again? Air that they had never needed before clawed its way down Artem's throat as they gasped in greedy gulps. Their body shuddered in a way that, for a second, felt too much like how their bones had vibrated as they spiraled out of control. It stopped. This time it stopped. Artem curled into a tight ball on the ground, clutching a handful of their hair.
"I'm broken," Artem mumbled in the dirt. "They broke me."
Likewise, stunned silence was not really a state that Artem usually fell into. Their moments of silence typically only happened when they were alone in their quarters or when they took the odd moment on the moon itself when they needed time to think. They were silent this time, though, even as Khosu's anguish tinged bitter with hatred. All Artem could focus on were Khosu's wings. They were gnarled, horrid things now—barely resembling their once brilliant form. Feathers pulled away like dying Autumn leaves in a heavy breeze.
"You."
"Me?" Artem asked, pointing at themself.
They swallowed hard, and still on the ground, they shuffled back on their hands, feet kicking at the dirt as they tried to propel themselves backward. This, Artem was familiar with. Khosu's rage had been turned on them many a time. It always resulted in harsh words or attempted strangulation or brawls where they lashed at each other with their rivaling powers of fire and water.
"I've had it. This is the last time you make a fool out of me."
Artem scowled. "I think you did that just fine all by yourself."
Which, was probably the wrong thing to say, because Khosu stalked forward faster, and Artem scrambled further back. They cringed as Khosu's wings trailed behind him like some mockery of a gown, leaving fallen feathers in the grass. Artem's stomach churned in disgust as another clump came off in Khosu's hands. It was awful. No matter what Khosu had done, he didn't deserve that kind of punishment. Something spiked in Artem's chest. Pain? Were they hurt? Sadness? Just empathy for what had happened to Khosu's wings? It stabbed at them again. No, guilt. Guilt for pushing Khosu so far. If they just hadn't said--
"What have you done?"
The feeling twisted into something dark and ugly as it settled in the base of Artem's chest. Of course. Fool that they were for thinking even for a second that Khosu didn't deserve everything that was coming for him.
"You're the one that had a temper tantrum and smashed the Celestial Compass," Artem snapped.
Artem was under no pretension that they could take Khosu in a fight. He was a much older deity, one of the Sky-Mother's most favoured even if Artem had eventually been awarded that title as well, and he had a control over his abilities that Artem wasn't sure their softer, water-based powers could ever compare to. Artem could say the most biting things, though. Things that could hit and strike in ways that cut deeper than physical harms often could. That's how they'd both gotten into this mess in the first place. They had a mind to do it again.
With that uncomfortable feeling still contorting inside them, Artem stopped fleeing backward and grit their teeth. They'd say it again. That awful thing they'd said to Khosu that they knew preyed on every insecurity he had. They'd use Khosu's own form to do it.
The shift started to grip their form and then everything pitched sideways.
Everything was wrong. The shift went in too many different directions. Skin went spiky and painful. Their very bones seemed to jitter in place. They flashed between dozens of malformed shifts in the blink of an eye, each more chaotic and inhuman than the last. Something in the configuration of their insides wasn't right and their brain hadn't come together properly and it was too dark and too painful and they felt as if they'd been stretched across the entire expanse of the solar system and it wouldn't stop and--
Artem came back to themself with their cheek pressed against the hard ground. When had they fallen again? Air that they had never needed before clawed its way down Artem's throat as they gasped in greedy gulps. Their body shuddered in a way that, for a second, felt too much like how their bones had vibrated as they spiraled out of control. It stopped. This time it stopped. Artem curled into a tight ball on the ground, clutching a handful of their hair.
"I'm broken," Artem mumbled in the dirt. "They broke me."
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boo.
the price we pay
KHOSU || DEITY OF THE SUN
Khosu dragged in a breath through his teeth and felt the strongest compulsion to bite like a wild animal. Bite Artem? Bite off the wings that caused him such agony? He wasn't sure he really cared anymore, as long as he could sink his teeth into something warm and full of blood. This wasn't the first time he'd felt such urges, but it was definitely the most compelling, perhaps because he had very little left to lose. "Don't wax morals to me," he snarled, releasing his wing, although it really just shivered out of his hand like it had a mind of its own, dragging on the ground once more like the limp of a broken leg.
He could see what Artem was thinking, see it right through those dark eyes that had never once stopped looking upon him with ridicule. Hate burned so fiercely on the sun god's face that his own gaze burned. "If you're so gods-almighty powerful, then fix it yourself! Prove yourself, little one."
One more step forward, and his legs almost buckled underneath him. Losing feathers wasn't like losing hair—it was like losing fingernails, having them peeled out from the root, only there were hundreds of them and nothing he could do could stop it. It didn't help that something as mortal as pain had never been inflicted upon him. A strangled cry died in Khosu's throat as he forced himself to swallow it back, but the price he paid was to fall to his knees, his wings shivering and convulsing in awkward angles, plucked free of golden majesty and left bare with bloody down. Because he'd begun to bleed, great thick globs of sizzling red that dripped from the very edges of his wings and into the long grass with boiling hisses. Another sound was torn out of him, something between a moan and a raspy sob.
When he looked up, he froze. Artem was twitching like a puppet on frayed strings, their body pulsing from one form to another but with proportions that looked wrong. It was like watching the static on a TV screen fight desperately to take the shape of a distant channel; every now and then a word broke through but even that was garbled and inhuman.
The moon god collapsed and Khosu only continued to stare at them, his own shoulders heaving as he struggled to hold himself up by his hands, his hip twisted to rest on the ground.
They broke me.
You did that yourself, Khosu longed to bite, just as Artem had bitten, but the words died before they could be made real. Instead, his hands curled around fistfuls of grass to keep them from lashing out.
This was their punishment, then. Stripped of the very gifts that illustrated their godly power, they'd been tossed carelessly to Earth for who knew how long. And why? What could the rest of the pantheon seek to gain from such treatment? A few days' respite from the endless squabbling? If they thought they could repair the Celestial Compass, they were sorely mistaken, for even Khosu could admit that he, the god most familiar with the device, was utterly incompetent as to its inner workings. All he knew how to do was read its calculations.
One last shiver raced through Khosu, one last groan through his teeth as the remaining golden feathers drifted to the ground. Stripped bare, whatever remained of his wings began to fade away, until at last they had disappeared completely, leaving two raw scars on his back.
When at last he dared to lift his head, to sit back on his heels and feel the strange, distant warmth of the sun on his face, Khosu's eyes were puffy and red, but wiped dry.
"They can't keep us here. They will—they will have to retrieve us." And yet, even in his supposed confidence, he didn't sound particularly hopeful; his voice only rasped with all the graceful cadence of a rusty gear. "I... ruled the skies without the compass once, I can do it again."
Never mind that in those days, he'd done it so poorly he'd almost extinguished mankind entirely. That wasn't the important thing here.
He could see what Artem was thinking, see it right through those dark eyes that had never once stopped looking upon him with ridicule. Hate burned so fiercely on the sun god's face that his own gaze burned. "If you're so gods-almighty powerful, then fix it yourself! Prove yourself, little one."
One more step forward, and his legs almost buckled underneath him. Losing feathers wasn't like losing hair—it was like losing fingernails, having them peeled out from the root, only there were hundreds of them and nothing he could do could stop it. It didn't help that something as mortal as pain had never been inflicted upon him. A strangled cry died in Khosu's throat as he forced himself to swallow it back, but the price he paid was to fall to his knees, his wings shivering and convulsing in awkward angles, plucked free of golden majesty and left bare with bloody down. Because he'd begun to bleed, great thick globs of sizzling red that dripped from the very edges of his wings and into the long grass with boiling hisses. Another sound was torn out of him, something between a moan and a raspy sob.
When he looked up, he froze. Artem was twitching like a puppet on frayed strings, their body pulsing from one form to another but with proportions that looked wrong. It was like watching the static on a TV screen fight desperately to take the shape of a distant channel; every now and then a word broke through but even that was garbled and inhuman.
The moon god collapsed and Khosu only continued to stare at them, his own shoulders heaving as he struggled to hold himself up by his hands, his hip twisted to rest on the ground.
They broke me.
You did that yourself, Khosu longed to bite, just as Artem had bitten, but the words died before they could be made real. Instead, his hands curled around fistfuls of grass to keep them from lashing out.
This was their punishment, then. Stripped of the very gifts that illustrated their godly power, they'd been tossed carelessly to Earth for who knew how long. And why? What could the rest of the pantheon seek to gain from such treatment? A few days' respite from the endless squabbling? If they thought they could repair the Celestial Compass, they were sorely mistaken, for even Khosu could admit that he, the god most familiar with the device, was utterly incompetent as to its inner workings. All he knew how to do was read its calculations.
One last shiver raced through Khosu, one last groan through his teeth as the remaining golden feathers drifted to the ground. Stripped bare, whatever remained of his wings began to fade away, until at last they had disappeared completely, leaving two raw scars on his back.
When at last he dared to lift his head, to sit back on his heels and feel the strange, distant warmth of the sun on his face, Khosu's eyes were puffy and red, but wiped dry.
"They can't keep us here. They will—they will have to retrieve us." And yet, even in his supposed confidence, he didn't sound particularly hopeful; his voice only rasped with all the graceful cadence of a rusty gear. "I... ruled the skies without the compass once, I can do it again."
Never mind that in those days, he'd done it so poorly he'd almost extinguished mankind entirely. That wasn't the important thing here.
Dover
bad joke dispensary
ARTEM || DEITY OF THE MOON
Artem let go of their self-pitying misery as Khosu tugged their focused forward. Khosu's wings were gone—little more now than a bit of fading golden dust twisting in the air. They'd both been broken then. The other deities had taken the very things that made them who they were. How far did it go? Would Artem turn into that corrupted thing they had with even minor adjustments? They nearly tested it and stopped themself. What if that horrid, stretching movement happened again? What if this time it didn't stop? They remain as they were—static as the very humans that inhabited the world they now found themself in.
With a groan of pain that Artem was quickly growing intimate with, they sat up and remained there next to Khosu. They watched Khosu for a moment too long, becoming far too aware of what redness around the eyes meant, and then diverted their gaze. Little one, Khosu had inflicted earlier, and while normally that would prompt Artem to lash back, they couldn't help but recognize the truth in those words now. They were little right now. Both of them were so small now in comparison to what they had been minutes ago.
"Not sure about that. The others didn't seem so keen on seeing us ever again." They frowned at the ground. They did not comment on Khosu's insistence that he could control the skies without the Compass. Maybe he could. Artem didn't really know. All they knew was when they reached out for that steady connection they had always felt with the Moon, that absolutely nothing called back to them. It wasn't like it had been ripped away. No hints of it being there once remained. It was just… nothing. Like nothing was there and had never been there.
Artem shuddered. They hugged their knees to their chest. Being alone was an odd, yet strangely familiar sensation. On one hand, they had always kind of been alone. Despite being one of 290 moons in the solar system, Artem had always stood a part. The other moon deities all had each other—each their own little family unit. Artem remained the odd one out. A single moon for a single planet. Everyone else was native to this solar system. But Artem? Artem that was made from the remains of a dead planet? There'd always been something distinctly alien about them. Always the black sheep of a system that they never truly fit in, never mind what the Sky-Mother had tried to reassure them before her slumber.
"Now what?" Artem asked, trying to force themself from thoughts they drifted to far too frequently. It was a bit easier to get to their feet this time. The world didn't seem to try so hard to pull them down to the ground this time. "I… have no idea where we are. The Earth is so much bigger than I thought it was from the Moon."
They turned slowly in place, trying to get a sense of where they were. A field of some sort. Trees and some crumbling stone wall not far from them on one side. The other side was just open field of some sort of plant Artem did not recognize. It green but tipped with a faint yellow colour. A faint outline of what appeared to be some sort of structure was barely visible over the plants, but it wasn't what caught Artem's eye.
With a gasp, Artem ducked back down to the ground with Khosu. "There's a human out there!" Artem whispered. "They're standing still in the field. Like this." They held both arms out to either side of themself, holding them perfectly perpendicular to the ground. "I think they are facing away from us, but they must have seen us fall?"
Despite their proximity to the Earth, Artem had never really gotten a good look at a human, despite seeing them a few times before. It'd been shocking at the time to see humans visiting the Moon when they'd only sent weird machines before. Though Artem knew that humans were supposed to resemble divinity, they'd only seen the humans wearing strange clothing that completely obscured what they looked like.
"I'm gonna go see." On hands and knees, Artem started to shuffle forward into the tall plants.
With a groan of pain that Artem was quickly growing intimate with, they sat up and remained there next to Khosu. They watched Khosu for a moment too long, becoming far too aware of what redness around the eyes meant, and then diverted their gaze. Little one, Khosu had inflicted earlier, and while normally that would prompt Artem to lash back, they couldn't help but recognize the truth in those words now. They were little right now. Both of them were so small now in comparison to what they had been minutes ago.
"Not sure about that. The others didn't seem so keen on seeing us ever again." They frowned at the ground. They did not comment on Khosu's insistence that he could control the skies without the Compass. Maybe he could. Artem didn't really know. All they knew was when they reached out for that steady connection they had always felt with the Moon, that absolutely nothing called back to them. It wasn't like it had been ripped away. No hints of it being there once remained. It was just… nothing. Like nothing was there and had never been there.
Artem shuddered. They hugged their knees to their chest. Being alone was an odd, yet strangely familiar sensation. On one hand, they had always kind of been alone. Despite being one of 290 moons in the solar system, Artem had always stood a part. The other moon deities all had each other—each their own little family unit. Artem remained the odd one out. A single moon for a single planet. Everyone else was native to this solar system. But Artem? Artem that was made from the remains of a dead planet? There'd always been something distinctly alien about them. Always the black sheep of a system that they never truly fit in, never mind what the Sky-Mother had tried to reassure them before her slumber.
"Now what?" Artem asked, trying to force themself from thoughts they drifted to far too frequently. It was a bit easier to get to their feet this time. The world didn't seem to try so hard to pull them down to the ground this time. "I… have no idea where we are. The Earth is so much bigger than I thought it was from the Moon."
They turned slowly in place, trying to get a sense of where they were. A field of some sort. Trees and some crumbling stone wall not far from them on one side. The other side was just open field of some sort of plant Artem did not recognize. It green but tipped with a faint yellow colour. A faint outline of what appeared to be some sort of structure was barely visible over the plants, but it wasn't what caught Artem's eye.
With a gasp, Artem ducked back down to the ground with Khosu. "There's a human out there!" Artem whispered. "They're standing still in the field. Like this." They held both arms out to either side of themself, holding them perfectly perpendicular to the ground. "I think they are facing away from us, but they must have seen us fall?"
Despite their proximity to the Earth, Artem had never really gotten a good look at a human, despite seeing them a few times before. It'd been shocking at the time to see humans visiting the Moon when they'd only sent weird machines before. Though Artem knew that humans were supposed to resemble divinity, they'd only seen the humans wearing strange clothing that completely obscured what they looked like.
"I'm gonna go see." On hands and knees, Artem started to shuffle forward into the tall plants.
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boo.
the price we pay
KHOSU || DEITY OF THE SUN
It physically pained him, almost as much as losing his wings, to agree with Artem, but he didn't really have a choice. His banishment replayed over and over in his mind, like a time loop he found himself trapped in.
"Your sins have damned you."
In the shadows of the Divine Pantheon, he'd found himself blinded by a single white light, colder than any star, enveloping him, paralyzing him.
"Do you concede your guilt?"
His pride sealed his lips; staring up into the great Eye of Judgement, he found nothing waiting for him, and that frightened him almost as much the punishment he was fated to receive.
"Fall, Khosu."
And oh, how he'd fallen. Spiritually, physically, Khosu was sentenced to existence on a mortal plane, wings clipped and ambitions crushed beneath the weighty acumen of the Pantheon. Even now, as he closed his eyes against the stale warmth of the distant sun, he felt not a shred of himself in the body he possessed. This was nothing more than a mockup, a poorly-crafted puppet he'd been crammed into, limitations forced upon him. No longer could he fly, and yet the burn scars on his fingertips remained as a cruel reminder of the purpose he'd once possessed, now stripped from him. He was left only to observe the sun and its movements as one observes what they cannot touch—with longing.
The ache in his heart refused to diminish; it remained, like the constant hum of a cicada in summer's heat.
Artem's question dragged him back reluctantly. "What does it matter? It's all the Earth, just swarming with..."
There's a human out there!
Before he had a chance to process what that really meant, Khosu fell back onto his ass, twisting to his side and flattening himself in the tall grass. "Where?" he hissed, heart thumping so loudly in his throat he swore it was about to jump out. Eyes ticked over to Artem, dragged over the way they stuck their arms out stiffly. What did that mean? Was it some kind of alert? Was the human frozen in fear? He dared to poked his head just high enough to see, and there it was, its silhouette made dark against the blue horizon. It wore some kind of jacket that fluttered in the breeze.
They must have seen us fall?
"Oh, you made sure of that," Khosu rolled his eyes toward the muddy ditch Artem had cut out with their impact. His had been a little lighter, only because of his flailing wings. "Maybe they're calling for help? Those things breed like maniacs, there's sure to be more around."
Some of the gods held affections for little humankind, caring over them, providing protection. Khosu couldn't imagine why; they were a dime a dozen, each the same as the next, and so incredibly fragile. Why bother wasting minutes of eternity over something that was doomed to blink out of existence just as quickly?
His eyes narrowed as Artem started to crawl toward the human. "What are you doing?" Once more he glanced toward the unmoving shape. How stupid could it be, to turn its back on a pair of gods? Something as brainless as that deserved to have been taken out by the collision; it would have been an honor upon its descendants to have been a cushion for the great Khosu in its last minutes. But for now, it was still alive, and Kosu had no intention of leaving any witnesses to the embarrassment that had been his exile.
He got to his feet, still unsteady, feeling horribly unbalanced without his wings stretching out behind him, but pushed that discomfort aside as he held out a hand in front of himself and snapped his fingers, summoning a flame.
A tiny, weak flame, dancing just above his finger. He furrowed his brow, channeling more power toward it, but it only sputtered and let out a tiny puff of smoke.
Huh.
Well, whatever! I'm just tired, so a small fireball will do.
"Kneel before your gods," Khosu called out in a booming voice, waving his hand through the air and forcing more sparks to follow in its wake.
Nothing. The human just... stood there.
He snarled. "Not courage, but stupidity. Such impudence is unbecoming toward the deity that grants your planet living warmth."
A cricket chirped.
"I'm not in the mood for this shit," he grumbled under his breath, before swinging his arm in a wide arc, wincing a little as it pulled at the strained muscles on his back, summoning a tongue of flame, and he huffed out a loud breath as he opened his palm wide to send a blast of fire over the field in the human's direction—
But all that fell from his hand was a pathetic spurt and fizzle, and a single hot drop of plasma that instantly caught the grass before him in flames. Khosu yelped and jumped back at the sudden burst of heat, finding that even this pathetic show was almost too much to withstand, and he watched quizzically as the flames danced from one patch of grass to another before dying out at the edge of Artem's impact crater.
Was something... burning?
He looked down to see the drooping hem of his sleeve licked with flame. "AH—" With a yelp of panic he brushed at his sleeve, dousing the fire before it could catch any further, but it left a nasty black singe mark that he eyed sadly. This was his favorite robe!
Dover
bad joke dispensary
ARTEM || DEITY OF THE MOON
Being before the Divine Pantheon was not an unfamiliar experience to Artem. They'd been there many times before. The level of severity varied. Most often, they'd get called in for impersonating one of the other deities—most often Khosu—and be admonished for mocking them. Sometimes they'd be brought forward to be given a lecture about putting things in the celestial pools to make them bubble, or stealing the Fluusa's lilies (even though the Goddess of Flowers really shouldn't miss such a small handful of them), or borrowing the God of Thunder's drum and mallet to make particularly loud noises outside of Khosu's quarters. It'd gotten to the point where they just started mentally checking out of those lectures, like they did with the meetings the Divine Pantheon regularly held.
Because prior to being punted down to Earth, the only time they'd really gotten in trouble was for getting too close to the humans when they'd visited the Moon that first time. For that, they'd been confined to the Celestial Plane for an entire cycle of Earth around the Sun. Artem had spent most of it listlessly lying in various places, attempting to look as miserable as they felt so the rest of the Divine Pantheon would take pity and allow Artem to return soon. They had not.
And while Artem hadn't learned from most of the lectures they'd received, they had learned that as a rule, humans really weren't supposed to see them any longer. That was a thing that some of the deities had done in the past, but apparently mortals were a little more prone to losing their minds upon seeing divinity now than they were in the past.
So, when Khosu stood up, calling out to the human and trying to smite them where they stood, Artem just cringed. Had Khosu not gotten that particular memo? Or was that just a rule for Artem? Shit, maybe it was. They hadn't been aware of such a rule until they'd been told off for getting to close to those spacefaring humans.
"Shut up, Khosu," Artem hissed from their position half hidden in plant cover. But Khosu was already trying for a second flame, and just like the first, it too fizzled out. Though, this time it nearly set Khosu on fire, and Artem snorted before they managed to clamp a hand around their mouth to stifle a laugh. It didn't help much and quiet snickers escaped from behind their hand. Served him right for going all behold me, for I am all powerful on some hapless human that probably just had their brain melted.
They wondered, though, if Khosu's abilities were acting up like that, would Artem's as well? The shifting had already been bad enough, they didn't dare chance it. Besides, their abilities with water had never been quite like Khosu's. It was more water manipulation rather than creation, and Artem didn't see a body of water or even a puddle they could test how bad things had gotten on.
"Don't set yourself fully on fire, because I don't think I could put you out if I tried right now," Artem warned. They shifted back under the cover of brush and skittered forward, this time fully concealed except for the plants that bent and shuffled from Artem's movement. They'd be good. They'd listen to the Divine Pantheon and not let the human see them. They would, however, get close enough to look at the human. Though, the human was being quieter than Artem could be themself.
Eerily quiet. Or like impossibly quiet, actually.
Artem peered through the plants as they got close enough and gasped. The human didn't have legs! Just a wooden pole where they should have been and plants were coming up of their arms and neck and-- Artem squinted. Something was off here. The human wasn't breathing, and Artem knew for a fact that humans needed to breathe, just has they and Khosu needed to now.
Carefully, Artem rose to their feet, approached the human, and poked them in the back. Nothing. Nothing except for the whole human listed to one side on the pole. With a deepening frown, Artem circled around. A static face looked back at Artem. Artem stared back. A long beat passed before Artem threw back their head with a laugh. Oh! This wasn't a human at all. It was just a weird art piece maybe?
"Khosu! It's just a very strange sculpture. Maybe this is a place of worship?" Artem called back. They had no idea what sort of deity this piece was supposed to represent if it was a place of worship, though.
Because prior to being punted down to Earth, the only time they'd really gotten in trouble was for getting too close to the humans when they'd visited the Moon that first time. For that, they'd been confined to the Celestial Plane for an entire cycle of Earth around the Sun. Artem had spent most of it listlessly lying in various places, attempting to look as miserable as they felt so the rest of the Divine Pantheon would take pity and allow Artem to return soon. They had not.
And while Artem hadn't learned from most of the lectures they'd received, they had learned that as a rule, humans really weren't supposed to see them any longer. That was a thing that some of the deities had done in the past, but apparently mortals were a little more prone to losing their minds upon seeing divinity now than they were in the past.
So, when Khosu stood up, calling out to the human and trying to smite them where they stood, Artem just cringed. Had Khosu not gotten that particular memo? Or was that just a rule for Artem? Shit, maybe it was. They hadn't been aware of such a rule until they'd been told off for getting to close to those spacefaring humans.
"Shut up, Khosu," Artem hissed from their position half hidden in plant cover. But Khosu was already trying for a second flame, and just like the first, it too fizzled out. Though, this time it nearly set Khosu on fire, and Artem snorted before they managed to clamp a hand around their mouth to stifle a laugh. It didn't help much and quiet snickers escaped from behind their hand. Served him right for going all behold me, for I am all powerful on some hapless human that probably just had their brain melted.
They wondered, though, if Khosu's abilities were acting up like that, would Artem's as well? The shifting had already been bad enough, they didn't dare chance it. Besides, their abilities with water had never been quite like Khosu's. It was more water manipulation rather than creation, and Artem didn't see a body of water or even a puddle they could test how bad things had gotten on.
"Don't set yourself fully on fire, because I don't think I could put you out if I tried right now," Artem warned. They shifted back under the cover of brush and skittered forward, this time fully concealed except for the plants that bent and shuffled from Artem's movement. They'd be good. They'd listen to the Divine Pantheon and not let the human see them. They would, however, get close enough to look at the human. Though, the human was being quieter than Artem could be themself.
Eerily quiet. Or like impossibly quiet, actually.
Artem peered through the plants as they got close enough and gasped. The human didn't have legs! Just a wooden pole where they should have been and plants were coming up of their arms and neck and-- Artem squinted. Something was off here. The human wasn't breathing, and Artem knew for a fact that humans needed to breathe, just has they and Khosu needed to now.
Carefully, Artem rose to their feet, approached the human, and poked them in the back. Nothing. Nothing except for the whole human listed to one side on the pole. With a deepening frown, Artem circled around. A static face looked back at Artem. Artem stared back. A long beat passed before Artem threw back their head with a laugh. Oh! This wasn't a human at all. It was just a weird art piece maybe?
"Khosu! It's just a very strange sculpture. Maybe this is a place of worship?" Artem called back. They had no idea what sort of deity this piece was supposed to represent if it was a place of worship, though.
boo.
the price we pay
KHOSU || DEITY OF THE SUN
"Don't be a smartass," Khosu hissed, making no attempt to hide his presence—because not only had he obnoxiously announced himself already, but he was pretty sure this human was defective, or perhaps just stupid. Were they all this brainless? Maybe they didn't have to be so cautious moving forward, not that he intended spending any longer on this miserable rock than necessary. Patting out his sleeve one last time, he then stuck his hands into his pockets, trying to cover up the fact that he was mortified at himself and the apparent lack of control he had over his own damn self.
Because, really? Taking away his wings hadn't been enough? They had to strip him of everything?
Puffing out his lips in a stubborn pout, he watched Artem creep closer to the human, rolling his eyes at their needless caution. Of course he was aware of the 'rule' the Pantheon had set in place that no god should be seen by a human, blah blah blah, but this particular human wouldn't be living much longer anyway, not when they'd witnessed his disgrace. He simply couldn't allow his dignity to be so bruised! Having Artem here was bad enough; he didn't need bad rumors spreading across the earth that the mighty Khosu was no more than a dying coal.
His eyes wandered back to the edge of the field and the crumbling stone wall that separated the foliage from a strip of smooth, gray rock with a broad white stripe painted down the center lengthwise. Although hidden by pockets of trees, it seemed the path stretched a long distance, perhaps to the nearest town. Would that be their next destination? In their newly weakened forms, perhaps they would need shelter sooner rather than later, maybe even sustenance. The gods often stuck to their meals of ambrosia, but even that wasn't necessary to their longevity—that was the whole thing about immortality, anyway. But would they need food now? Human food?
Was this what it felt like to be human? How miserable. No wonder they were fighting all the time.
Artem started laughing and Khosu snapped his gaze back. "What?" he barked, taking a few steps closer and taking note of what Artem had realized earlier—no legs, just a long wooden pole that had to have been stuck right through their pelvis, and a head of hair with the texture of straw.
It's just a very strange sculpture. Maybe this is a place of worship?
He blinked and finally joined Artem, reaching out a finger (which still throbbed somewhat painfully from the fountain of piddling sparks it had produced) and poking it squarely in the middle of its chest. Just as Artem suggested, he could feel nothing warm or alive, nothing that betrayed it was anything more than a...
Well...
What exactly was it?
"An insult to divinity if I ever saw one." Khosu wrinkled his nose and tapped the dummy a little harder. "This is hardly a temple, unless it's to one of the harvest spirits..." Then he fully grabbed its shoulder and gave it a shove, splintering the stick that held it up and kicking the whole thing to the ground. "Whatever. Not anymore."
Was it childish to take out his anger on a scarecrow? Yes. Did it make him feel better? Also yes. It felt nice to hit something.
Raking his hand back through his curls, which were beginning to frizz in the afternoon sun, Khosu stuck out a hip. "Well, I'm glad we figured this out, but we're still here. What the fuck do they expect us to do?" He let out a tight sigh of frustration. "Socialize with the locals? Tsk."
Dover
bad joke dispensary
ARTEM || DEITY OF THE MOON
If it was a sculpture, it certainly wasn't a sturdy one, as the whole thing essentially collapsed in on itself with little more than an impertinent shove from Khosu. Artem's shoulders slumped as the maybe-a-sculpture became a shapeless thing on the ground. Shame. They kinda liked it, even if it was a bit crude. They bent down for a moment, shaking free the clothing that covered it. The inside mostly seemed to be straw and fabric scraps that weren't any good for clothing. But they had some sort of trousers, a garment that was clearly meant to cover the torso, and a floppy-looking head covering. Perhaps this was what humans wore? It might help at least one of them blend in.
Artem raised a hand to cover their eyes from the blinding sun. Never had it felt quite so bright, and that was despite knowing the literal personification of it. Artem had always associated it more with heat than brightness. The vacuum of space diminished it somewhat, they supposed.
"If anyone is going to socialize with the locals, it certainly won't be you. Look what you did to their sculpture," Artem said, their chin tilting up self-importantly. "Best leave that to me if you're going to go about trying and failing to roast every single one you see."
And just as a precaution, and not because they were scared of Khosu or anything, they danced a few feet ahead. That strange path not too far from them looked promising anyway. They had to do something here, after all. Standing in a field and being helpless was getting them nowhere. It was beginning to get horribly uncomfortable in this field anyway. It felt far too warm here. Warmth was typically a comforting sensation, though Artem had always preferred to be a bit on the cooler side, but they had never felt warmth like this. Sticky was the only way they could properly describe it. They could feel their hair clinging uncomfortably to the back of their neck, and their robes had gone from being light and airy to strangely heavy.
Holding their new bundle of clothing close to their chest, Artem trampled through the field toward the odd path. It was oddly smooth and uniform, expect the stripe dividing it in half. Hesitantly, Artem stepped a foot onto it and tested if it would hold their weight. It did not budge. Satisfied, they hopped onto it. This, too, felt far too warm. Though they wore sandals, they were rather simple, thin things, and they could feel heat radiating from the path underfoot.
"Everything here is far too warm." Artem sighed. "And smells. Everything smells."
The Moon, or maybe it was just space itself, had a smell to it too. Artem had long gotten used to the smell of billions upon billions of stars birthing and dying for eons. The distinct burning smell was almost comforting more than anything now. It was consistent, if nothing else. The smells in the Celestial Plane were different than Earth too. Always pleasant, while Earth seemed to vary a lot in that regard. Would they get used to it with time? Artem wasn't sure if they wanted to stay here long enough to get used to it.
Huffing, Artem looked one way down the path and then the other. There was no indication of where each end went, as far as they could see. Normally, Artem would mark a stone or something and flip it to choose, but they were in the company of a control freak. Artem glanced back to Khosu. Best just to give the man a sense of control where he could get it.
"Which way?" Artem asked.
Artem raised a hand to cover their eyes from the blinding sun. Never had it felt quite so bright, and that was despite knowing the literal personification of it. Artem had always associated it more with heat than brightness. The vacuum of space diminished it somewhat, they supposed.
"If anyone is going to socialize with the locals, it certainly won't be you. Look what you did to their sculpture," Artem said, their chin tilting up self-importantly. "Best leave that to me if you're going to go about trying and failing to roast every single one you see."
And just as a precaution, and not because they were scared of Khosu or anything, they danced a few feet ahead. That strange path not too far from them looked promising anyway. They had to do something here, after all. Standing in a field and being helpless was getting them nowhere. It was beginning to get horribly uncomfortable in this field anyway. It felt far too warm here. Warmth was typically a comforting sensation, though Artem had always preferred to be a bit on the cooler side, but they had never felt warmth like this. Sticky was the only way they could properly describe it. They could feel their hair clinging uncomfortably to the back of their neck, and their robes had gone from being light and airy to strangely heavy.
Holding their new bundle of clothing close to their chest, Artem trampled through the field toward the odd path. It was oddly smooth and uniform, expect the stripe dividing it in half. Hesitantly, Artem stepped a foot onto it and tested if it would hold their weight. It did not budge. Satisfied, they hopped onto it. This, too, felt far too warm. Though they wore sandals, they were rather simple, thin things, and they could feel heat radiating from the path underfoot.
"Everything here is far too warm." Artem sighed. "And smells. Everything smells."
The Moon, or maybe it was just space itself, had a smell to it too. Artem had long gotten used to the smell of billions upon billions of stars birthing and dying for eons. The distinct burning smell was almost comforting more than anything now. It was consistent, if nothing else. The smells in the Celestial Plane were different than Earth too. Always pleasant, while Earth seemed to vary a lot in that regard. Would they get used to it with time? Artem wasn't sure if they wanted to stay here long enough to get used to it.
Huffing, Artem looked one way down the path and then the other. There was no indication of where each end went, as far as they could see. Normally, Artem would mark a stone or something and flip it to choose, but they were in the company of a control freak. Artem glanced back to Khosu. Best just to give the man a sense of control where he could get it.
"Which way?" Artem asked.
boo.
the price we pay
KHOSU || DEITY OF THE SUN
"I was doing them a favor," Khosu retorted sharply. "If all their sculptures look like that then humanity has failed to evolve sufficiently." But it wasn't that he wanted to chat with mankind; if anything, it would probably be a lot easier if he simply avoided them altogether. Interaction with humans was generally discouraged, and he'd only done it a handful of times himself back near the dawn of mankind, during his exploration of the budding world, to see what his precious sun had affected the world. From what he could tell, he was the most important factor of life. Like, the most important. And that was one of the reasons why Artem's childish behavior pissed him off beyond all reason.
Like, they should really respect him more! Didn't they realize that they'd have no reason to exist if it wasn't for him?
Hm. Maybe this banishment wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe it could be a chance for Artem to see just how important the sun and Khosu's work was?
Of course, whether Artem had the brain power to actually learn anything was questionable, but miracles could happen. They were gods, after all.
Everything here is far too warm, Artem murmured, edging onto the strange flat path Khosu had pointed out.
"You're welcome," Khosu responded with a light shrug, as though he was singularly channeling the power of the sun at this very moment (which wasn't true, by the way. The sun was self-sufficient even without his immediate presence, but Artem didn't need to know that). "I think it feels rather good." The fact that it coaxed beads of sweat from his skin and made him feel stuffy wasn't something he was going to add. He was the god of the sun; it shouldn't have been so uncomfortable! And yet, here he was, secretly wishing for a bit of shade.
He glanced over his shoulder at the retreating ditch of overturned earth. The last pile of golden feathers was dissipating in the sunlight before fading out of existence, and soon they'd disappeared completely, as though they'd never been there at all. Grief sat heavy in Khosu's stomach like something foul he'd eaten and couldn't vomit back out, left to fester and grow gangrenous until it eventually killed him. His wings had been a deciding factor in what he was, in who he was, since the first moments of his existence, and now that they were gone he felt... empty. Scraped raw from the inside out. A cracked eggshell, nothing more. His hand wrapped around his side, straining to feel where the limbs had once grown from his shoulders, and all he could find were hard ridges of scarring; little trails of dried blood marked the skin of his back and had soaked into his dark tunic, no doubt staining the fabric where it dipped nearly to the small of his back.
Artem's voice (annoyingly) broke through his self-reflection again, and his expression settled back into a nasty glower as he took the lead, not even hesitating to head east, so that the sun was at their backs. "This way." It made it sound like he knew where he was going, even if he was really just bullshitting it all, as though he hoped his hubris might somehow show him the way.
The way...
Where were they going?
Fantastic question. Hubris would provide.
Probably.
They walked sometime in silence, at least on Khosu's end. His back continued to ache and his head was pounding, to the point where he wondered if his eyes would pop out of his skull from the pressure, but to stop now and ask for rest would be asking for ridicule. 'What, is a nice outing too much for the mighty Khosu? Need me to carry you?' was what he imagined Artem might say—and for the record, it would have been nice to be carried, but by Artem? He didn't think so.
Something rumbled through the air; Khosu's head snapped up and he held up a hand to signal Artem to stop as well. "Do you hear that?" It was only getting louder, almost like the growl of some animal, and it was coming from down the road but was still out of sight. Confusion etched itself into the god's features. "A chariot?"
Some chariot! The vehicle appeared in a blink, whipping over the hill with a face like some metal golem, bright lights flashing from his eyes and barreling straight for Khosu and Artem.
Khosu only stared it down, even as the distance was cut in half and half again, barreling closer and closer. "Do you suppose there's a horse inside that thing? I remember they rode horses last time I was down here." Maybe the chariot would give them a ride. Wouldn't that be nice! And if it didn't, Khosu would simply kill the horse and teach the human a lesson in manners—then make it carry him to the nearest human settlement.
A blaring sound left the vehicle, and Khosu only winced, yet continued to stand his ground, wondering if it was the animal inside making that noise.
Then there was a screech, and the vehicle suddenly began to slow, jittering side to side before crawling to a stop. Black skid marks had been left on the road behind it, and a door opened just before the angry voice of a woman punctuated the air, much to Khosu's chagrin.
"What the fuck, asshole! Some kinda goddamn you are, in the middle of the fucking road? You got a death wish? Scared the shit out of me!" She wore a tank top and cargo pants, her dark hair tied into a low ponytail, and she pointed an angry finger at Khosu, before it began to strike her how strange he looked, and how utterly unbothered he seemed. The moment she faltered, Khosu took that as a sign to make his demands.
"I don't have the energy to argue with mortals," he dismissed her, waving a hand through the air. "You make a poor substitute for a divine chariot but I suppose I don't have much of a choice. You may kiss my hand."
The woman stared as though he'd just told her to drive her car off a cliff. "I—what?"
"And if you have room for them, then I suppose they may come along," Khosu added with a sigh, jabbing a thumb in Artem's direction.
She'd gotten out of her car, going to stand in front of the hood, but now was frozen in place, eyes bugging out of her head. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" For the first time, she seemed to notice how oddly the two were dressed. "Are you... ok?" Her hand was inching toward her back pocket, and she looked around for any signs of where they might have come from, but this road only went between two fields, and she knew it.
Wary eyes darted to Artem. "Are you with this nutjob?"
Like, they should really respect him more! Didn't they realize that they'd have no reason to exist if it wasn't for him?
Hm. Maybe this banishment wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe it could be a chance for Artem to see just how important the sun and Khosu's work was?
Of course, whether Artem had the brain power to actually learn anything was questionable, but miracles could happen. They were gods, after all.
Everything here is far too warm, Artem murmured, edging onto the strange flat path Khosu had pointed out.
"You're welcome," Khosu responded with a light shrug, as though he was singularly channeling the power of the sun at this very moment (which wasn't true, by the way. The sun was self-sufficient even without his immediate presence, but Artem didn't need to know that). "I think it feels rather good." The fact that it coaxed beads of sweat from his skin and made him feel stuffy wasn't something he was going to add. He was the god of the sun; it shouldn't have been so uncomfortable! And yet, here he was, secretly wishing for a bit of shade.
He glanced over his shoulder at the retreating ditch of overturned earth. The last pile of golden feathers was dissipating in the sunlight before fading out of existence, and soon they'd disappeared completely, as though they'd never been there at all. Grief sat heavy in Khosu's stomach like something foul he'd eaten and couldn't vomit back out, left to fester and grow gangrenous until it eventually killed him. His wings had been a deciding factor in what he was, in who he was, since the first moments of his existence, and now that they were gone he felt... empty. Scraped raw from the inside out. A cracked eggshell, nothing more. His hand wrapped around his side, straining to feel where the limbs had once grown from his shoulders, and all he could find were hard ridges of scarring; little trails of dried blood marked the skin of his back and had soaked into his dark tunic, no doubt staining the fabric where it dipped nearly to the small of his back.
Artem's voice (annoyingly) broke through his self-reflection again, and his expression settled back into a nasty glower as he took the lead, not even hesitating to head east, so that the sun was at their backs. "This way." It made it sound like he knew where he was going, even if he was really just bullshitting it all, as though he hoped his hubris might somehow show him the way.
The way...
Where were they going?
Fantastic question. Hubris would provide.
Probably.
They walked sometime in silence, at least on Khosu's end. His back continued to ache and his head was pounding, to the point where he wondered if his eyes would pop out of his skull from the pressure, but to stop now and ask for rest would be asking for ridicule. 'What, is a nice outing too much for the mighty Khosu? Need me to carry you?' was what he imagined Artem might say—and for the record, it would have been nice to be carried, but by Artem? He didn't think so.
Something rumbled through the air; Khosu's head snapped up and he held up a hand to signal Artem to stop as well. "Do you hear that?" It was only getting louder, almost like the growl of some animal, and it was coming from down the road but was still out of sight. Confusion etched itself into the god's features. "A chariot?"
Some chariot! The vehicle appeared in a blink, whipping over the hill with a face like some metal golem, bright lights flashing from his eyes and barreling straight for Khosu and Artem.
Khosu only stared it down, even as the distance was cut in half and half again, barreling closer and closer. "Do you suppose there's a horse inside that thing? I remember they rode horses last time I was down here." Maybe the chariot would give them a ride. Wouldn't that be nice! And if it didn't, Khosu would simply kill the horse and teach the human a lesson in manners—then make it carry him to the nearest human settlement.
A blaring sound left the vehicle, and Khosu only winced, yet continued to stand his ground, wondering if it was the animal inside making that noise.
Then there was a screech, and the vehicle suddenly began to slow, jittering side to side before crawling to a stop. Black skid marks had been left on the road behind it, and a door opened just before the angry voice of a woman punctuated the air, much to Khosu's chagrin.
"What the fuck, asshole! Some kinda goddamn you are, in the middle of the fucking road? You got a death wish? Scared the shit out of me!" She wore a tank top and cargo pants, her dark hair tied into a low ponytail, and she pointed an angry finger at Khosu, before it began to strike her how strange he looked, and how utterly unbothered he seemed. The moment she faltered, Khosu took that as a sign to make his demands.
"I don't have the energy to argue with mortals," he dismissed her, waving a hand through the air. "You make a poor substitute for a divine chariot but I suppose I don't have much of a choice. You may kiss my hand."
The woman stared as though he'd just told her to drive her car off a cliff. "I—what?"
"And if you have room for them, then I suppose they may come along," Khosu added with a sigh, jabbing a thumb in Artem's direction.
She'd gotten out of her car, going to stand in front of the hood, but now was frozen in place, eyes bugging out of her head. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" For the first time, she seemed to notice how oddly the two were dressed. "Are you... ok?" Her hand was inching toward her back pocket, and she looked around for any signs of where they might have come from, but this road only went between two fields, and she knew it.
Wary eyes darted to Artem. "Are you with this nutjob?"
Dover
bad joke dispensary
ARTEM || DEITY OF THE MOON
Artem was fairly certain this way how they were going to die.
Walking.
Death by walking under the punishing rays of the sun that apparently Khosu thought 'felt rather good.' Maybe he did think that. He hadn't said a peep the entire time they were walking, and stubbornly, Artem refused to say anything to voice their discomfort either. They just bore it, alternating between glaring daggers at the back of Khosu's head as Artem followed and the weird path they were following that felt like it was radiating just as much heat as the sun was.
They paused only once, briefly, as they stepped on one of the torn tendrils of their robe and nearly tripped in the process. The fabric ripped more, and irrationally, Artem felt like crying at the loss of it. They were so warm, and it didn't feel good despite what Khosu said, and there was a weird feeling in their head and stomach that just made them want to lie down on the ground until it stopped. Maybe back in the field though, because this path was truly awful.
Instead, they just set the bundle of clothes down, tore the rest of the ripped piece of robe away, and let it flutter way in the too warm breeze. Khosu was a good fifteen feet ahead of them by that point, but it was too hard to catch up. Artem picked up the bundle again and kept trudging on.
Their vision was getting a bit blurry by the time they realized Khosu was signalling them to stop. They did so gratefully, though Artem wasn't sure how they were going to continue on again after stopping. Resting for a moment made them realize how heavy they felt, as if they were unused to the gravity of this planet once again, and how much their body still ached from the impact of falling to Earth. Their excitement and fear had chased it away in the field, but now that there was nothing but the path, the heat, and the increasing nausea they felt, there was little else to focus on.
Artem blinked at the path. Did they hear anything? They could barely see anything clearly, much less hear it. But, well, now that Khosu was making them focus, there was a weird noise, though it didn't sound like any chariot Artem had ever seen. Didn't look like it either, though it was difficult to tell with how fast it was moving.
"I don't think they could fit a horse in that thing. Or, uh, go that fast."
Gods above, but it was going fast. Was it…? Was it going to hit them?
They yelped as the thing blared at them, and they skittered behind Khosu as if the bastard was going to somehow stop it. The thing made another sound, this one higher pitched and screeching, and Artem closed their eyes tightly shut. In hindsight, they should have ducked off the path rather than behind Khosu, but it was too late to change their mind now.
The expected impact did not come.
Artem cracked open an eye. Oh! Khosu had stopped it somehow? Or perhaps it was the woman that crawled out of the weird thing and began yelling at them. She was quite angry, though Artem wasn't sure what they had done to earn such anger. Neither did Khosu, apparently, because he seemed utterly unbothered by all the yelling.
Confused, Artem remained where they were. They looked between Khosu and the angry woman, who seemed to be getting angrier each time Khosu spoke. Which, understandable, because Khosu was an ass.
"Are you with this nutjob?"
They weren't sure what that meant exactly, but it sounded like she was probably referring to Khosu.
"His name is Khosu. I'm Artem," they replied. She'd asked them something, hadn't she? Between yelling at Khosu, and Khosu acting like he'd been personally sent down to grace her with his presence. She'd asked if they were okay, hadn't she? Could she help them? Artem's eyes widened. Khosu was going to chase away the only chance at help they'd had so far at this rate!
"We're not okay!" Artem said in a rush, "We're lost and hurt and everything is too hot and I ripped my clothes and I feel awful and I don't know why and you can't just keep acting like everything is fine, Khosu, because it's not!" When had this switched from being directed to the woman to Khosu? "We need help, and this is the first sign of it we've seen. Or maybe you are just fine, but I'm not. I'm broken and I keep breaking more and… and…"
Artem's lower lip wobbled and they pursed their lips to stop it.
There was a beat of silence and then a sigh from the woman.
"Fuck. Fuck," the woman swore and pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes. She turned away from them for a moment and muttered, though it was still perfectly audible, "Damn your bleeding heart, Alessandra."
She turned back on her heel and scowled at them. "Alright, get in the car. Back seat. You both look like you're about to collapse from heat exhaustion." A mood seemed to swell over the woman, Alessandra, they were pretty sure she had referred to herself as, and she pointed an angry finger at Khosu. "Don't making me regret this. I regularly deal with a 95 kilogram mastiff at home, and I can fucking body your twiggy little ass if I need to."
Still scowling, she stormed back to the car and jerked open the back door. "In!" She didn't wait for them to jump in, though Artem was eager to get into the thing just in case Khosu really did try to leave them behind. Instead, she continued to the back of the vehicle and opened the trunk. Artem quickly took the opportunity to climb in before they collapsed on the path.
The temperature difference was immediate and incredible inside. It looked like nothing Artem had ever seen, but they could not bring themself to care. They dumped the clothes they'd been carrying onto the floor of the car and slumped over as soon as they had shuffled over enough to make room for Khosu.
Alessandra slammed the trunk closed and got into the driver's seat of the vehicle, twisting around to look at them. Awkwardly, she offered them a clear vessel filled with water. "Here. I only have one water bottle so share it until we can get back into the city. Pace yourself."
Walking.
Death by walking under the punishing rays of the sun that apparently Khosu thought 'felt rather good.' Maybe he did think that. He hadn't said a peep the entire time they were walking, and stubbornly, Artem refused to say anything to voice their discomfort either. They just bore it, alternating between glaring daggers at the back of Khosu's head as Artem followed and the weird path they were following that felt like it was radiating just as much heat as the sun was.
They paused only once, briefly, as they stepped on one of the torn tendrils of their robe and nearly tripped in the process. The fabric ripped more, and irrationally, Artem felt like crying at the loss of it. They were so warm, and it didn't feel good despite what Khosu said, and there was a weird feeling in their head and stomach that just made them want to lie down on the ground until it stopped. Maybe back in the field though, because this path was truly awful.
Instead, they just set the bundle of clothes down, tore the rest of the ripped piece of robe away, and let it flutter way in the too warm breeze. Khosu was a good fifteen feet ahead of them by that point, but it was too hard to catch up. Artem picked up the bundle again and kept trudging on.
Their vision was getting a bit blurry by the time they realized Khosu was signalling them to stop. They did so gratefully, though Artem wasn't sure how they were going to continue on again after stopping. Resting for a moment made them realize how heavy they felt, as if they were unused to the gravity of this planet once again, and how much their body still ached from the impact of falling to Earth. Their excitement and fear had chased it away in the field, but now that there was nothing but the path, the heat, and the increasing nausea they felt, there was little else to focus on.
Artem blinked at the path. Did they hear anything? They could barely see anything clearly, much less hear it. But, well, now that Khosu was making them focus, there was a weird noise, though it didn't sound like any chariot Artem had ever seen. Didn't look like it either, though it was difficult to tell with how fast it was moving.
"I don't think they could fit a horse in that thing. Or, uh, go that fast."
Gods above, but it was going fast. Was it…? Was it going to hit them?
They yelped as the thing blared at them, and they skittered behind Khosu as if the bastard was going to somehow stop it. The thing made another sound, this one higher pitched and screeching, and Artem closed their eyes tightly shut. In hindsight, they should have ducked off the path rather than behind Khosu, but it was too late to change their mind now.
The expected impact did not come.
Artem cracked open an eye. Oh! Khosu had stopped it somehow? Or perhaps it was the woman that crawled out of the weird thing and began yelling at them. She was quite angry, though Artem wasn't sure what they had done to earn such anger. Neither did Khosu, apparently, because he seemed utterly unbothered by all the yelling.
Confused, Artem remained where they were. They looked between Khosu and the angry woman, who seemed to be getting angrier each time Khosu spoke. Which, understandable, because Khosu was an ass.
"Are you with this nutjob?"
They weren't sure what that meant exactly, but it sounded like she was probably referring to Khosu.
"His name is Khosu. I'm Artem," they replied. She'd asked them something, hadn't she? Between yelling at Khosu, and Khosu acting like he'd been personally sent down to grace her with his presence. She'd asked if they were okay, hadn't she? Could she help them? Artem's eyes widened. Khosu was going to chase away the only chance at help they'd had so far at this rate!
"We're not okay!" Artem said in a rush, "We're lost and hurt and everything is too hot and I ripped my clothes and I feel awful and I don't know why and you can't just keep acting like everything is fine, Khosu, because it's not!" When had this switched from being directed to the woman to Khosu? "We need help, and this is the first sign of it we've seen. Or maybe you are just fine, but I'm not. I'm broken and I keep breaking more and… and…"
Artem's lower lip wobbled and they pursed their lips to stop it.
There was a beat of silence and then a sigh from the woman.
"Fuck. Fuck," the woman swore and pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes. She turned away from them for a moment and muttered, though it was still perfectly audible, "Damn your bleeding heart, Alessandra."
She turned back on her heel and scowled at them. "Alright, get in the car. Back seat. You both look like you're about to collapse from heat exhaustion." A mood seemed to swell over the woman, Alessandra, they were pretty sure she had referred to herself as, and she pointed an angry finger at Khosu. "Don't making me regret this. I regularly deal with a 95 kilogram mastiff at home, and I can fucking body your twiggy little ass if I need to."
Still scowling, she stormed back to the car and jerked open the back door. "In!" She didn't wait for them to jump in, though Artem was eager to get into the thing just in case Khosu really did try to leave them behind. Instead, she continued to the back of the vehicle and opened the trunk. Artem quickly took the opportunity to climb in before they collapsed on the path.
The temperature difference was immediate and incredible inside. It looked like nothing Artem had ever seen, but they could not bring themself to care. They dumped the clothes they'd been carrying onto the floor of the car and slumped over as soon as they had shuffled over enough to make room for Khosu.
Alessandra slammed the trunk closed and got into the driver's seat of the vehicle, twisting around to look at them. Awkwardly, she offered them a clear vessel filled with water. "Here. I only have one water bottle so share it until we can get back into the city. Pace yourself."
boo.
the price we pay
KHOSU || DEITY OF THE SUN
His first thought: THIS IDIOT IS JUST TELLING HER OUR NAMES?
His second: Oh. She has absolutely no idea who we are.
Maybe it shouldn't have been so surprising, but there had been a rather large piece of Khosu's ego that wished the mortal knew who they were, that he only recognized when he was met with an overwhelming sense of disappointment at her blank expression. Over the centuries, humanity had dwindled off in their worship of the heavens, which most gods accepted gratefully as a sort of retirement. After all, if the people on earth didn't want anything to do with them, then they didn't have to worry about providing for the poor, useless creatures all the time. Khosu had never really thought about it before, far too busy with his own work with the movement of the sun to worry about such trivial things...
But it was a bit of a let-down, that this Alessandra stared at them like they were nobodies. In a very real sense, stripped of their powers, it was true.
He settled with crossing his arms over his chest with a weighty huff. "You could at least, like... not make us sound so pitiful? Don't be so dramatic. Are you—" Their lip was trembling. Trembling. Like they were about to cry! Khosu's eyes almost popped out of his head, but before he could gather his thoughts enough to make a comment, Alessandra gave in. She seemed pretty reluctant about it, but she was offering them a ride in her vehicle, apparently against her better judgement.
An idiotic choice, if Khosu was going to be honest, but he wasn't about to tell her that. Maybe he could catch her unawares and take the vehicle for himself? He didn't quite fancy the idea of relying on a mortal's charity just to travel from one point to another (although he still had no idea where they were even going, or why).
Alessandra pointed an accusatory finger at him, and he barked out a disbelieving laugh (but still skirted cautiously around her to get into the car after Artem). "I haven't done anything! Don't threaten me, woman." I could take you out with my eyes closed, was his next thought, but he was just wise enough not to say it out loud, now that Artem had secured for them a ride out of this hellhole. Speaking of which—were they absolutely certain this was earth, and not some kind of psuedo-underworld? What if they'd been caught in a cycle of punishment? He didn't think that was possible for a god, but then again, he'd never envisioned losing his wings either.
As he climbed inside after Artem, a wave of welcome cold washed over him and he slumped into the seat despite the tenderness of the scars on his back. He'd been wise enough to keep them out of Alessandra's sight to avoid undue questions, but his irritated skin throbbed and ached and he eventually realized he had to arch his back a little to keep them from rubbing raw against the hard cushions behind him.
Had he been in a clearer state of mind, he might have taken a few minutes to examine his strange, new surroundings, but as it was, he could hardly even process the bottle of water Alessandra offered over her shoulder, which he was quick to snatch up before Artem could get to it. "Finally, some decency. My opinion of you improves slightly, mortal." It was difficult to get the lid off, but he managed once he realized it twisted one way before opening. He sniffed it before lifting it to his lips for a taste.
The water was slightly lukewarm but Khosu hardly cared. It might not have been ambrosia but it did clear out the sticky feeling in his mouth.
Alessandra was silent for a few moments as the vehicle rumbled and began to creep forward, gaining speed until it was rolling down the road at the same speed as before, but she kept glancing into mirror at her two passengers, her curiosity clearly growing with every passing minute, but she managed to bite her tongue, maybe because she still wasn't sure where to even begin with them.
"We're about twenty minutes out of Siena. I can... drop you off near one of the hotels, if that works for you." Her voice was a little more cautious than before; after all, what did you do with two strange people who looked like they'd jumped right out of a fantasy novel, and maybe like they'd been tussling in the grass before she found them? "You can catch a bus out of there to wherever you're... from."
Khosu wasn't listening. After swirling the water around in the bottle a few times, he lifted it to his mouth and began to chug, realizing that a few sips had done very little to quench his thirst. It would be better to just drink the whole thing now.
His second: Oh. She has absolutely no idea who we are.
Maybe it shouldn't have been so surprising, but there had been a rather large piece of Khosu's ego that wished the mortal knew who they were, that he only recognized when he was met with an overwhelming sense of disappointment at her blank expression. Over the centuries, humanity had dwindled off in their worship of the heavens, which most gods accepted gratefully as a sort of retirement. After all, if the people on earth didn't want anything to do with them, then they didn't have to worry about providing for the poor, useless creatures all the time. Khosu had never really thought about it before, far too busy with his own work with the movement of the sun to worry about such trivial things...
But it was a bit of a let-down, that this Alessandra stared at them like they were nobodies. In a very real sense, stripped of their powers, it was true.
He settled with crossing his arms over his chest with a weighty huff. "You could at least, like... not make us sound so pitiful? Don't be so dramatic. Are you—" Their lip was trembling. Trembling. Like they were about to cry! Khosu's eyes almost popped out of his head, but before he could gather his thoughts enough to make a comment, Alessandra gave in. She seemed pretty reluctant about it, but she was offering them a ride in her vehicle, apparently against her better judgement.
An idiotic choice, if Khosu was going to be honest, but he wasn't about to tell her that. Maybe he could catch her unawares and take the vehicle for himself? He didn't quite fancy the idea of relying on a mortal's charity just to travel from one point to another (although he still had no idea where they were even going, or why).
Alessandra pointed an accusatory finger at him, and he barked out a disbelieving laugh (but still skirted cautiously around her to get into the car after Artem). "I haven't done anything! Don't threaten me, woman." I could take you out with my eyes closed, was his next thought, but he was just wise enough not to say it out loud, now that Artem had secured for them a ride out of this hellhole. Speaking of which—were they absolutely certain this was earth, and not some kind of psuedo-underworld? What if they'd been caught in a cycle of punishment? He didn't think that was possible for a god, but then again, he'd never envisioned losing his wings either.
As he climbed inside after Artem, a wave of welcome cold washed over him and he slumped into the seat despite the tenderness of the scars on his back. He'd been wise enough to keep them out of Alessandra's sight to avoid undue questions, but his irritated skin throbbed and ached and he eventually realized he had to arch his back a little to keep them from rubbing raw against the hard cushions behind him.
Had he been in a clearer state of mind, he might have taken a few minutes to examine his strange, new surroundings, but as it was, he could hardly even process the bottle of water Alessandra offered over her shoulder, which he was quick to snatch up before Artem could get to it. "Finally, some decency. My opinion of you improves slightly, mortal." It was difficult to get the lid off, but he managed once he realized it twisted one way before opening. He sniffed it before lifting it to his lips for a taste.
The water was slightly lukewarm but Khosu hardly cared. It might not have been ambrosia but it did clear out the sticky feeling in his mouth.
Alessandra was silent for a few moments as the vehicle rumbled and began to creep forward, gaining speed until it was rolling down the road at the same speed as before, but she kept glancing into mirror at her two passengers, her curiosity clearly growing with every passing minute, but she managed to bite her tongue, maybe because she still wasn't sure where to even begin with them.
"We're about twenty minutes out of Siena. I can... drop you off near one of the hotels, if that works for you." Her voice was a little more cautious than before; after all, what did you do with two strange people who looked like they'd jumped right out of a fantasy novel, and maybe like they'd been tussling in the grass before she found them? "You can catch a bus out of there to wherever you're... from."
Khosu wasn't listening. After swirling the water around in the bottle a few times, he lifted it to his mouth and began to chug, realizing that a few sips had done very little to quench his thirst. It would be better to just drink the whole thing now.
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