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An annual celebration held in Thebes, the Opet Festival or the Beautiful Feast of Opet is held at the beginning of the Season of Inundation, spreading from the month of Aylul to Kawal. The Festival celebrates the Gods Amun, Mut and Khonsu and requires the city of Thebes to pour out onto the streets and become a part of a procession that follows statues and figures of the Gods from the bank of the river Nile to each of the temples of Thebes: Ra, Hathor and then the Valley of the Kings, only to return to the Nile where the statues are set drift on the waters and sent down the river to their final destination.
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An annual celebration held in Thebes, the Opet Festival or the Beautiful Feast of Opet is held at the beginning of the Season of Inundation, spreading from the month of Aylul to Kawal. The Festival celebrates the Gods Amun, Mut and Khonsu and requires the city of Thebes to pour out onto the streets and become a part of a procession that follows statues and figures of the Gods from the bank of the river Nile to each of the temples of Thebes: Ra, Hathor and then the Valley of the Kings, only to return to the Nile where the statues are set drift on the waters and sent down the river to their final destination.
The Beautiful Feast Event - Egypt
An annual celebration held in Thebes, the Opet Festival or the Beautiful Feast of Opet is held at the beginning of the Season of Inundation, spreading from the month of Aylul to Kawal. The Festival celebrates the Gods Amun, Mut and Khonsu and requires the city of Thebes to pour out onto the streets and become a part of a procession that follows statues and figures of the Gods from the bank of the river Nile to each of the temples of Thebes: Ra, Hathor and then the Valley of the Kings, only to return to the Nile where the statues are set drift on the waters and sent down the river to their final destination.
Their arrival at Thebes had been just that morning, and as luck would've had it, the Opet Festival had just begun, if Kreios were to judge by the activity that met them when the Azazel had pulled into port. While Kreios had intended to head straight to the Wastan where he would buy and sell wares, the storm meant that a majority of his vials had been tossed and broken, which meant that the merchant had a lot less to offer then he had set out with.
Despite having spent the last two days at sea trying to fix as much as he could, there was only so much Kreios could work without resources necessary to make his concotions to begin with. So instead,he had revised the plan so he could gather new resources during their time in Thebes. The merchant planned to make as much as he could, but due to the storm, what was meant to be a trip to buy and sell as much as he could, has now in hindsight became a trip to gain wares he wouldn't usually find in Greece instead.
Luckily for him though, the plants he had procured whilst he had been in Judea had been secured enough that not much damage had reached them, and that was a little merit that he had been thankful for.
Their visit to the Wastan however, proved fruitless when it had been deserted, and only upon questioning, did Kreios finally realize the reason upon the lack of people within the square - the Opet Festivel. A festival meant to signify the beginning to the Season of Inundation, the city of Thebes would hold all economic processes for the day as they became part of the procession to follow the statues and figures of the Gods from the river Nile banks to each of the temples.
On a regular basis, Kreios would've hanged the day and just returned to his quarters to continue working. Yet his new ward seemed to have other ideas.
Why he had entertained them, Kreios did not know. But when Neena had insisted that she wanted to follow the procession the whole way through, he had given a deep sigh, but did not deny the request. Instead, he had sent Descat back with an armful of resources he had managed to find, and with Typhon at his heels, he had set off with his chatterbox of a cargo diving this way and that, with a seemingly endless amount of energy.
If someone harnessed that energy, they wouldn't need firewood any longer.
In his black tunic and pants, the slippers protected his bare feet against the heated floors as they traversed their way to the banks of the Nile river where - sure enough - the people of Thebes had begun to return to the banks. The statues that had been part of the procession was easy to pick out, but they had a way to go yet before they reached the banks of the river. Picking out a vantage point where Kreios was sure they would be able to watch the proceedings without being trampled by happy festival-goers, he clicked his tongue to ensure his dog sat by his feet, and then tossed his gaze to the procession, keeping only half an eye out to make sure Neena didn't accidentally run off without him noticing.
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Their arrival at Thebes had been just that morning, and as luck would've had it, the Opet Festival had just begun, if Kreios were to judge by the activity that met them when the Azazel had pulled into port. While Kreios had intended to head straight to the Wastan where he would buy and sell wares, the storm meant that a majority of his vials had been tossed and broken, which meant that the merchant had a lot less to offer then he had set out with.
Despite having spent the last two days at sea trying to fix as much as he could, there was only so much Kreios could work without resources necessary to make his concotions to begin with. So instead,he had revised the plan so he could gather new resources during their time in Thebes. The merchant planned to make as much as he could, but due to the storm, what was meant to be a trip to buy and sell as much as he could, has now in hindsight became a trip to gain wares he wouldn't usually find in Greece instead.
Luckily for him though, the plants he had procured whilst he had been in Judea had been secured enough that not much damage had reached them, and that was a little merit that he had been thankful for.
Their visit to the Wastan however, proved fruitless when it had been deserted, and only upon questioning, did Kreios finally realize the reason upon the lack of people within the square - the Opet Festivel. A festival meant to signify the beginning to the Season of Inundation, the city of Thebes would hold all economic processes for the day as they became part of the procession to follow the statues and figures of the Gods from the river Nile banks to each of the temples.
On a regular basis, Kreios would've hanged the day and just returned to his quarters to continue working. Yet his new ward seemed to have other ideas.
Why he had entertained them, Kreios did not know. But when Neena had insisted that she wanted to follow the procession the whole way through, he had given a deep sigh, but did not deny the request. Instead, he had sent Descat back with an armful of resources he had managed to find, and with Typhon at his heels, he had set off with his chatterbox of a cargo diving this way and that, with a seemingly endless amount of energy.
If someone harnessed that energy, they wouldn't need firewood any longer.
In his black tunic and pants, the slippers protected his bare feet against the heated floors as they traversed their way to the banks of the Nile river where - sure enough - the people of Thebes had begun to return to the banks. The statues that had been part of the procession was easy to pick out, but they had a way to go yet before they reached the banks of the river. Picking out a vantage point where Kreios was sure they would be able to watch the proceedings without being trampled by happy festival-goers, he clicked his tongue to ensure his dog sat by his feet, and then tossed his gaze to the procession, keeping only half an eye out to make sure Neena didn't accidentally run off without him noticing.
Their arrival at Thebes had been just that morning, and as luck would've had it, the Opet Festival had just begun, if Kreios were to judge by the activity that met them when the Azazel had pulled into port. While Kreios had intended to head straight to the Wastan where he would buy and sell wares, the storm meant that a majority of his vials had been tossed and broken, which meant that the merchant had a lot less to offer then he had set out with.
Despite having spent the last two days at sea trying to fix as much as he could, there was only so much Kreios could work without resources necessary to make his concotions to begin with. So instead,he had revised the plan so he could gather new resources during their time in Thebes. The merchant planned to make as much as he could, but due to the storm, what was meant to be a trip to buy and sell as much as he could, has now in hindsight became a trip to gain wares he wouldn't usually find in Greece instead.
Luckily for him though, the plants he had procured whilst he had been in Judea had been secured enough that not much damage had reached them, and that was a little merit that he had been thankful for.
Their visit to the Wastan however, proved fruitless when it had been deserted, and only upon questioning, did Kreios finally realize the reason upon the lack of people within the square - the Opet Festivel. A festival meant to signify the beginning to the Season of Inundation, the city of Thebes would hold all economic processes for the day as they became part of the procession to follow the statues and figures of the Gods from the river Nile banks to each of the temples.
On a regular basis, Kreios would've hanged the day and just returned to his quarters to continue working. Yet his new ward seemed to have other ideas.
Why he had entertained them, Kreios did not know. But when Neena had insisted that she wanted to follow the procession the whole way through, he had given a deep sigh, but did not deny the request. Instead, he had sent Descat back with an armful of resources he had managed to find, and with Typhon at his heels, he had set off with his chatterbox of a cargo diving this way and that, with a seemingly endless amount of energy.
If someone harnessed that energy, they wouldn't need firewood any longer.
In his black tunic and pants, the slippers protected his bare feet against the heated floors as they traversed their way to the banks of the Nile river where - sure enough - the people of Thebes had begun to return to the banks. The statues that had been part of the procession was easy to pick out, but they had a way to go yet before they reached the banks of the river. Picking out a vantage point where Kreios was sure they would be able to watch the proceedings without being trampled by happy festival-goers, he clicked his tongue to ensure his dog sat by his feet, and then tossed his gaze to the procession, keeping only half an eye out to make sure Neena didn't accidentally run off without him noticing.
Neena had been half determined to stay on the ship as Kreios went about his business in Thebes. It would be too easy for him to have lost her in the jungle that was the city and too easy for him to scarper and pursue the rest of his voyage without her - her payment safely locked in his rooms. Were she to stay firmly anchored to the ship, he couldn't swindle her and would be forced to continue escorting her the next leg of the journey. Preferably to somewhere she hadn't just been six months ago. Despite Egypt being a beautiful country and one she was happy to explore time and again, there was something about being this close to Bedoa that had her nervous. What if the Zaire had come to trade on the Egyptian border again? What if Tanishe felt the need to journey to the cities for particular herbal remedies or another tribesman joined them from the city and made comment on a half Egyptian, half Bedoan girl with a jade armband? It all just made her feel... exposed. Vulnerable. Like her past was sneaking up on her. No, the ship was definitely the more logical place to be. It kept her in Kreios' pocket where he couldn't expel her, and it kept her away from any prying Bedoan eyes.
But then, when had Neena ever been a person to do the logical thing?
Like some mystical being, Neena had been drawn from her cabin on the boat on the scent of freshly baked honey bread and the second she was able to see the cityscape of Thebes all rationality went out upon the river winds. She could see people. People with journeys and destinations and tasks and responsibilities and dreams and opportunities and argh, she loved it! She needed to go and mingle. She needed to be a part of the exciting city before her that was just a small area of the world.
So, when Kreios had been overheard (by herself who was loitering) that he was going to head to the market to pick up a few things, Neena had immediately invited herself to tag along. She had made the exchange a fair one by offering the carry some of the fewer than he had hoped goods to sell and the empty bags that would be filled with that which he wished to buy. With such a compromise the man had made no fuss about her accompanying him. Though, admittedly, she didn't know if that was because of her help now or because of the aid she had given to his fellow sailors over the last few days.
The ship had taken a serious beating in the storm that had caught them between Bedoa and Egypt and Neena had worked tirelessly alongside the men to put the Azazel back to rights. Another decision that might have been a little limiting in rationale given that the owner of the boat wasn't exactly a fan of herself. But, Neena liked to be helpful, she was used to manual labour and found it - to a certain extent - relaxing. And she knew that if the ship wasn't in fully working order, the chances of her ever making it elsewhere in the world were a little slimmer on the ground. Ergo, she had worked hard to fix the boat that Kreios called both home and transport each day and had slept like a log on the nights in between.
Today was the first day she actually had the time to enjoy what the world had to offer. And the first opportunity! As it was the first stop they had made since leaving Israel.
Tagging along with Kreios and a few of his men, it turned out that the market was a bit of a bust. And it was almost immediately clear why as they simply had to follow the noise to where a procession had left the riverbank and was making its way towards the temples of the city. They had likely left the water's edge at dawn, else the crew of the Azazel would have seen them, and now, at mid-morning, they meandered their way through the streets, stopping at every small shrine or icon of their blessed Gods and then continuing on their way to pay full worship at the larger temples.
With a glean of excitement in her eye and her feet already picking up to run over in the direction of the chanting and singing crowds, Neena only paused to look over at Kreios and make sure that he would accompany her. She wasn't about to run off and let him leave her behind.
After he had arranged things with his men to have all goods and purchases returned to the Azazel, Kreios was able to accept the invitation of going with her to check out the procession and Neena was excited to get back to a manner of life and joy that didn't involve lots of sweaty men in a tightly packed space like a ship.
The main street that the procession moved down was absolutely packed when they got there. People moved in all directions despite the main body of the populace moving the statues in one trajectory. Others were all over the place. Children ran left and right, parents rallied after them. Traders, soldiers, commoners, priests, priestesses - they all meandered around the main procession, or joined in to give it a larger body of life. And the noise. People sang, people cheered, people chanted. Instruments were hidden somewhere among the crowd and were being played to accompany the songs of the people.
Neena found herself grinning. Such life and such enjoyment.
She looked around to see what Kreios thought of it all only to find him having moved up a short flight of steps behind her and was perching on the wall, intent on watching as the crowd went by. With a widening to her grin, Neena's eye caught a street seller nearby offering up sticks with pieces of grilled meat attached. They had been spiced and salted so their smell was particularly strong and Neena was able to part with a few bronze coins she had in the pouch tied to her leg in order to secure one.
Running back to where, Kreios was stationed, having never left his sight, Neena jogged up the steps with her flimsy little sandals and then waved the stick of meat back and forth at the man with a reproachful look on her face.
"Oh no. I didn't ask you to come with me to watch the parade, grumpy." She told him. She then dipped low and waved the stick - which Typhon had been following with great interest - before the dog's nose. She grinned when he moved back up to all fours, breaking from the seated position he had been in before and then started to follow her down the steps as she walked backwards, careful of her descent.
No matter how well trained a dog was, there was no way one could resist the allure of freshly cooked meat.
"If you ever want to see your dog again." She told Kreios with a warning voice, a teasing glint to her eye and her tongue poking from between her teeth. "You'll come join me and the rest of the living in the parade!"
With a bite to her bottom lip, she started skipping her way down the street, wafting the tempting treat to Typhon and keeping him close on her heels...
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Neena had been half determined to stay on the ship as Kreios went about his business in Thebes. It would be too easy for him to have lost her in the jungle that was the city and too easy for him to scarper and pursue the rest of his voyage without her - her payment safely locked in his rooms. Were she to stay firmly anchored to the ship, he couldn't swindle her and would be forced to continue escorting her the next leg of the journey. Preferably to somewhere she hadn't just been six months ago. Despite Egypt being a beautiful country and one she was happy to explore time and again, there was something about being this close to Bedoa that had her nervous. What if the Zaire had come to trade on the Egyptian border again? What if Tanishe felt the need to journey to the cities for particular herbal remedies or another tribesman joined them from the city and made comment on a half Egyptian, half Bedoan girl with a jade armband? It all just made her feel... exposed. Vulnerable. Like her past was sneaking up on her. No, the ship was definitely the more logical place to be. It kept her in Kreios' pocket where he couldn't expel her, and it kept her away from any prying Bedoan eyes.
But then, when had Neena ever been a person to do the logical thing?
Like some mystical being, Neena had been drawn from her cabin on the boat on the scent of freshly baked honey bread and the second she was able to see the cityscape of Thebes all rationality went out upon the river winds. She could see people. People with journeys and destinations and tasks and responsibilities and dreams and opportunities and argh, she loved it! She needed to go and mingle. She needed to be a part of the exciting city before her that was just a small area of the world.
So, when Kreios had been overheard (by herself who was loitering) that he was going to head to the market to pick up a few things, Neena had immediately invited herself to tag along. She had made the exchange a fair one by offering the carry some of the fewer than he had hoped goods to sell and the empty bags that would be filled with that which he wished to buy. With such a compromise the man had made no fuss about her accompanying him. Though, admittedly, she didn't know if that was because of her help now or because of the aid she had given to his fellow sailors over the last few days.
The ship had taken a serious beating in the storm that had caught them between Bedoa and Egypt and Neena had worked tirelessly alongside the men to put the Azazel back to rights. Another decision that might have been a little limiting in rationale given that the owner of the boat wasn't exactly a fan of herself. But, Neena liked to be helpful, she was used to manual labour and found it - to a certain extent - relaxing. And she knew that if the ship wasn't in fully working order, the chances of her ever making it elsewhere in the world were a little slimmer on the ground. Ergo, she had worked hard to fix the boat that Kreios called both home and transport each day and had slept like a log on the nights in between.
Today was the first day she actually had the time to enjoy what the world had to offer. And the first opportunity! As it was the first stop they had made since leaving Israel.
Tagging along with Kreios and a few of his men, it turned out that the market was a bit of a bust. And it was almost immediately clear why as they simply had to follow the noise to where a procession had left the riverbank and was making its way towards the temples of the city. They had likely left the water's edge at dawn, else the crew of the Azazel would have seen them, and now, at mid-morning, they meandered their way through the streets, stopping at every small shrine or icon of their blessed Gods and then continuing on their way to pay full worship at the larger temples.
With a glean of excitement in her eye and her feet already picking up to run over in the direction of the chanting and singing crowds, Neena only paused to look over at Kreios and make sure that he would accompany her. She wasn't about to run off and let him leave her behind.
After he had arranged things with his men to have all goods and purchases returned to the Azazel, Kreios was able to accept the invitation of going with her to check out the procession and Neena was excited to get back to a manner of life and joy that didn't involve lots of sweaty men in a tightly packed space like a ship.
The main street that the procession moved down was absolutely packed when they got there. People moved in all directions despite the main body of the populace moving the statues in one trajectory. Others were all over the place. Children ran left and right, parents rallied after them. Traders, soldiers, commoners, priests, priestesses - they all meandered around the main procession, or joined in to give it a larger body of life. And the noise. People sang, people cheered, people chanted. Instruments were hidden somewhere among the crowd and were being played to accompany the songs of the people.
Neena found herself grinning. Such life and such enjoyment.
She looked around to see what Kreios thought of it all only to find him having moved up a short flight of steps behind her and was perching on the wall, intent on watching as the crowd went by. With a widening to her grin, Neena's eye caught a street seller nearby offering up sticks with pieces of grilled meat attached. They had been spiced and salted so their smell was particularly strong and Neena was able to part with a few bronze coins she had in the pouch tied to her leg in order to secure one.
Running back to where, Kreios was stationed, having never left his sight, Neena jogged up the steps with her flimsy little sandals and then waved the stick of meat back and forth at the man with a reproachful look on her face.
"Oh no. I didn't ask you to come with me to watch the parade, grumpy." She told him. She then dipped low and waved the stick - which Typhon had been following with great interest - before the dog's nose. She grinned when he moved back up to all fours, breaking from the seated position he had been in before and then started to follow her down the steps as she walked backwards, careful of her descent.
No matter how well trained a dog was, there was no way one could resist the allure of freshly cooked meat.
"If you ever want to see your dog again." She told Kreios with a warning voice, a teasing glint to her eye and her tongue poking from between her teeth. "You'll come join me and the rest of the living in the parade!"
With a bite to her bottom lip, she started skipping her way down the street, wafting the tempting treat to Typhon and keeping him close on her heels...
Neena had been half determined to stay on the ship as Kreios went about his business in Thebes. It would be too easy for him to have lost her in the jungle that was the city and too easy for him to scarper and pursue the rest of his voyage without her - her payment safely locked in his rooms. Were she to stay firmly anchored to the ship, he couldn't swindle her and would be forced to continue escorting her the next leg of the journey. Preferably to somewhere she hadn't just been six months ago. Despite Egypt being a beautiful country and one she was happy to explore time and again, there was something about being this close to Bedoa that had her nervous. What if the Zaire had come to trade on the Egyptian border again? What if Tanishe felt the need to journey to the cities for particular herbal remedies or another tribesman joined them from the city and made comment on a half Egyptian, half Bedoan girl with a jade armband? It all just made her feel... exposed. Vulnerable. Like her past was sneaking up on her. No, the ship was definitely the more logical place to be. It kept her in Kreios' pocket where he couldn't expel her, and it kept her away from any prying Bedoan eyes.
But then, when had Neena ever been a person to do the logical thing?
Like some mystical being, Neena had been drawn from her cabin on the boat on the scent of freshly baked honey bread and the second she was able to see the cityscape of Thebes all rationality went out upon the river winds. She could see people. People with journeys and destinations and tasks and responsibilities and dreams and opportunities and argh, she loved it! She needed to go and mingle. She needed to be a part of the exciting city before her that was just a small area of the world.
So, when Kreios had been overheard (by herself who was loitering) that he was going to head to the market to pick up a few things, Neena had immediately invited herself to tag along. She had made the exchange a fair one by offering the carry some of the fewer than he had hoped goods to sell and the empty bags that would be filled with that which he wished to buy. With such a compromise the man had made no fuss about her accompanying him. Though, admittedly, she didn't know if that was because of her help now or because of the aid she had given to his fellow sailors over the last few days.
The ship had taken a serious beating in the storm that had caught them between Bedoa and Egypt and Neena had worked tirelessly alongside the men to put the Azazel back to rights. Another decision that might have been a little limiting in rationale given that the owner of the boat wasn't exactly a fan of herself. But, Neena liked to be helpful, she was used to manual labour and found it - to a certain extent - relaxing. And she knew that if the ship wasn't in fully working order, the chances of her ever making it elsewhere in the world were a little slimmer on the ground. Ergo, she had worked hard to fix the boat that Kreios called both home and transport each day and had slept like a log on the nights in between.
Today was the first day she actually had the time to enjoy what the world had to offer. And the first opportunity! As it was the first stop they had made since leaving Israel.
Tagging along with Kreios and a few of his men, it turned out that the market was a bit of a bust. And it was almost immediately clear why as they simply had to follow the noise to where a procession had left the riverbank and was making its way towards the temples of the city. They had likely left the water's edge at dawn, else the crew of the Azazel would have seen them, and now, at mid-morning, they meandered their way through the streets, stopping at every small shrine or icon of their blessed Gods and then continuing on their way to pay full worship at the larger temples.
With a glean of excitement in her eye and her feet already picking up to run over in the direction of the chanting and singing crowds, Neena only paused to look over at Kreios and make sure that he would accompany her. She wasn't about to run off and let him leave her behind.
After he had arranged things with his men to have all goods and purchases returned to the Azazel, Kreios was able to accept the invitation of going with her to check out the procession and Neena was excited to get back to a manner of life and joy that didn't involve lots of sweaty men in a tightly packed space like a ship.
The main street that the procession moved down was absolutely packed when they got there. People moved in all directions despite the main body of the populace moving the statues in one trajectory. Others were all over the place. Children ran left and right, parents rallied after them. Traders, soldiers, commoners, priests, priestesses - they all meandered around the main procession, or joined in to give it a larger body of life. And the noise. People sang, people cheered, people chanted. Instruments were hidden somewhere among the crowd and were being played to accompany the songs of the people.
Neena found herself grinning. Such life and such enjoyment.
She looked around to see what Kreios thought of it all only to find him having moved up a short flight of steps behind her and was perching on the wall, intent on watching as the crowd went by. With a widening to her grin, Neena's eye caught a street seller nearby offering up sticks with pieces of grilled meat attached. They had been spiced and salted so their smell was particularly strong and Neena was able to part with a few bronze coins she had in the pouch tied to her leg in order to secure one.
Running back to where, Kreios was stationed, having never left his sight, Neena jogged up the steps with her flimsy little sandals and then waved the stick of meat back and forth at the man with a reproachful look on her face.
"Oh no. I didn't ask you to come with me to watch the parade, grumpy." She told him. She then dipped low and waved the stick - which Typhon had been following with great interest - before the dog's nose. She grinned when he moved back up to all fours, breaking from the seated position he had been in before and then started to follow her down the steps as she walked backwards, careful of her descent.
No matter how well trained a dog was, there was no way one could resist the allure of freshly cooked meat.
"If you ever want to see your dog again." She told Kreios with a warning voice, a teasing glint to her eye and her tongue poking from between her teeth. "You'll come join me and the rest of the living in the parade!"
With a bite to her bottom lip, she started skipping her way down the street, wafting the tempting treat to Typhon and keeping him close on her heels...
Her grin was infectious - but not to Kreios. The life hardened merchant was well protected against such charm, but his dog was less so. As Typhon followed by his feet, Kreios could feel the hound's need to bound after the running girl as they followed the procession. To a certain extent, Kreios was glad to see that Typhon was not the skittish kind in the event of loud noises and many people. It was a good trait to have, for the dog was meant to come with him as he did his merchant rounds, an extra form of protection for the coin he would receive.
So why had he conceded in bringing her along? Even if one were to ask the Gods now, the answer probably would not come. Perhaps it was his way of thanking the girl for helping his crew repair the extensive damages the Azazel had sustained, for she had certainly seemed eager to explore anyway. Why, Kreios did not ask. He preferred to remain by himself, within walls of his workshop. Not an extrovert by nature, the man usually balked at processions of such sorts.
But she wanted to.
So he had grudgingly went along, just a few paces behind her. His eyes followed her movements as she ran this way and that, and then leaned back to avoid her as she waved the stick of salted meat in his face. His own features scrunched up as he dodged the waving piece of food - unlike Typhon, who now sat on his haunches eagerly following her. Typical dog. So easily bribed by food.
Growling at her, he rolled his eyes, but got up from his seated position and went along. Yet, he had conceded less so for the dog, and more so because... well, she was running off, where else was he supposed to go? Technically, if he wanted to, he could just leave her there and return to the ship. The pink diamond he had received from her was safely stowed away in his quarters, and Typhon would return when he called. He could just get away and leave her stranded.
Kreios was not a man who backed out on his word though. Where many other merchants would take the chance to cheat someone, the man in black was a man of values and beliefs, slightly laughable if one were to look into his chocie of business... but true,nontheless. Kreios had never, in all his life, unjustly treated someone or paid someone. A man who believed in fairness and equality, if not in excessive conversations.
So he followed her, albeit with a sour look on his face. Hands tucked into his pockets, Kreios plodded as usual, a couple of steps behind her. By her ankles, Typhon's tail wagged as he drooled with his eyes concentrated on the slab of meat Neena tempted him with. Kreios's eyes on the other hand, simply trained on the girl, half making sure she didn't dart off, half ensuring she didn't accidentally get trampled by the sheer amount of people amongst the event. "Where exactly are they going?" he asked over the din, when his dark irises spotted the three statues being hoisted out of the Nile river by a few half-naked men covered only by white linen waist down. The people of Thebes who had poured out of their houses were raucous in their celebration as they began following the statues. While he was well versed with polygrecian lore, Egyptian beliefs was something Kreios had never bothered with, and his brows now scrunched up in confusion, a raised brow signifying his curiousity.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Her grin was infectious - but not to Kreios. The life hardened merchant was well protected against such charm, but his dog was less so. As Typhon followed by his feet, Kreios could feel the hound's need to bound after the running girl as they followed the procession. To a certain extent, Kreios was glad to see that Typhon was not the skittish kind in the event of loud noises and many people. It was a good trait to have, for the dog was meant to come with him as he did his merchant rounds, an extra form of protection for the coin he would receive.
So why had he conceded in bringing her along? Even if one were to ask the Gods now, the answer probably would not come. Perhaps it was his way of thanking the girl for helping his crew repair the extensive damages the Azazel had sustained, for she had certainly seemed eager to explore anyway. Why, Kreios did not ask. He preferred to remain by himself, within walls of his workshop. Not an extrovert by nature, the man usually balked at processions of such sorts.
But she wanted to.
So he had grudgingly went along, just a few paces behind her. His eyes followed her movements as she ran this way and that, and then leaned back to avoid her as she waved the stick of salted meat in his face. His own features scrunched up as he dodged the waving piece of food - unlike Typhon, who now sat on his haunches eagerly following her. Typical dog. So easily bribed by food.
Growling at her, he rolled his eyes, but got up from his seated position and went along. Yet, he had conceded less so for the dog, and more so because... well, she was running off, where else was he supposed to go? Technically, if he wanted to, he could just leave her there and return to the ship. The pink diamond he had received from her was safely stowed away in his quarters, and Typhon would return when he called. He could just get away and leave her stranded.
Kreios was not a man who backed out on his word though. Where many other merchants would take the chance to cheat someone, the man in black was a man of values and beliefs, slightly laughable if one were to look into his chocie of business... but true,nontheless. Kreios had never, in all his life, unjustly treated someone or paid someone. A man who believed in fairness and equality, if not in excessive conversations.
So he followed her, albeit with a sour look on his face. Hands tucked into his pockets, Kreios plodded as usual, a couple of steps behind her. By her ankles, Typhon's tail wagged as he drooled with his eyes concentrated on the slab of meat Neena tempted him with. Kreios's eyes on the other hand, simply trained on the girl, half making sure she didn't dart off, half ensuring she didn't accidentally get trampled by the sheer amount of people amongst the event. "Where exactly are they going?" he asked over the din, when his dark irises spotted the three statues being hoisted out of the Nile river by a few half-naked men covered only by white linen waist down. The people of Thebes who had poured out of their houses were raucous in their celebration as they began following the statues. While he was well versed with polygrecian lore, Egyptian beliefs was something Kreios had never bothered with, and his brows now scrunched up in confusion, a raised brow signifying his curiousity.
Her grin was infectious - but not to Kreios. The life hardened merchant was well protected against such charm, but his dog was less so. As Typhon followed by his feet, Kreios could feel the hound's need to bound after the running girl as they followed the procession. To a certain extent, Kreios was glad to see that Typhon was not the skittish kind in the event of loud noises and many people. It was a good trait to have, for the dog was meant to come with him as he did his merchant rounds, an extra form of protection for the coin he would receive.
So why had he conceded in bringing her along? Even if one were to ask the Gods now, the answer probably would not come. Perhaps it was his way of thanking the girl for helping his crew repair the extensive damages the Azazel had sustained, for she had certainly seemed eager to explore anyway. Why, Kreios did not ask. He preferred to remain by himself, within walls of his workshop. Not an extrovert by nature, the man usually balked at processions of such sorts.
But she wanted to.
So he had grudgingly went along, just a few paces behind her. His eyes followed her movements as she ran this way and that, and then leaned back to avoid her as she waved the stick of salted meat in his face. His own features scrunched up as he dodged the waving piece of food - unlike Typhon, who now sat on his haunches eagerly following her. Typical dog. So easily bribed by food.
Growling at her, he rolled his eyes, but got up from his seated position and went along. Yet, he had conceded less so for the dog, and more so because... well, she was running off, where else was he supposed to go? Technically, if he wanted to, he could just leave her there and return to the ship. The pink diamond he had received from her was safely stowed away in his quarters, and Typhon would return when he called. He could just get away and leave her stranded.
Kreios was not a man who backed out on his word though. Where many other merchants would take the chance to cheat someone, the man in black was a man of values and beliefs, slightly laughable if one were to look into his chocie of business... but true,nontheless. Kreios had never, in all his life, unjustly treated someone or paid someone. A man who believed in fairness and equality, if not in excessive conversations.
So he followed her, albeit with a sour look on his face. Hands tucked into his pockets, Kreios plodded as usual, a couple of steps behind her. By her ankles, Typhon's tail wagged as he drooled with his eyes concentrated on the slab of meat Neena tempted him with. Kreios's eyes on the other hand, simply trained on the girl, half making sure she didn't dart off, half ensuring she didn't accidentally get trampled by the sheer amount of people amongst the event. "Where exactly are they going?" he asked over the din, when his dark irises spotted the three statues being hoisted out of the Nile river by a few half-naked men covered only by white linen waist down. The people of Thebes who had poured out of their houses were raucous in their celebration as they began following the statues. While he was well versed with polygrecian lore, Egyptian beliefs was something Kreios had never bothered with, and his brows now scrunched up in confusion, a raised brow signifying his curiousity.
Berenike and her family had made the journey from Cairo to Thebes to take part in the festival. There was no way she could miss such a great time and not kick herself. The Opet Festival was truly magnificent. There were acrobats, dancers, and choirs of boys singing hymns in the streets. The sights, the smells— they were simply amazing. And, of course the main event was fantastic. From the Temple of Karnak, bald priests emerged. They were met with cries of joy so loud the Gods could hear them as the priests carried the statues of Amun, Mut, and Khons. The sacred statues were hidden from sight in an ornate box as they were paraded through the streets. Docked in the Nile waiting for them was a magnificent barque, but it would take the procession a while to get there. Once they had, they would then drift down to the Temple of Luxor, where the statues would stand for the next twenty four days before returning to Karnak. It was an ancient festival celebrated by Egyptians for millennia, though Berenike learned in school that parts of it had been changed over time.
While officially the festival was dedicated to and centered around Gods, The Feast of Opet was really a time for great parties. Berenike had dressed for the occasion. Her stark white linen gown was pleated and fit to her curves flatteringly. Around her waist, accentuating its slimness, a jeweled belt glittered in the hot Theban sun. Her nails, fingers, hands, toes, and feet were exquisitely hennaed in both swirling and geometric patterns. Heavy on her head was her finest Nubian wig, its beads bouncing and clattering with her every movement. Of course, no outfit of Berenike’s (or any Egyptian) was complete without makeup. Her eyes were lined with Kohl and dusted with a bronze ochre. The bronze color contrasted beautifully against her light eyes, bringing out their stark color.
Earlier in her dressing room, when she looked at herself in her in polished bronze mirror, she gasped at the work of her body servants. She was beautiful. That wasn’t just her arrogance, either, it was a simple fact. Today was sunny and Berenike looked beautiful. It was funny, though, that even though she was lovely and beautiful and stunning and all of that, she still couldn’t rival her younger sisters. It was selfish of her, but she was resentful that she was so beautiful and still considered the plainest sister.
Maybe that’s why the Gods blessed me with at least half a brain? She thought wryly, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.
The priests were making their way through the crowded streets now. The throngs of cheering people at the riverbank parted to make way for the priests. Berenike watched with great interest from a safe distance since she had no desire to be trampled. As for the rest of her family, she wasn’t entirely certain. Her father was watching safely from somewhere up high with some boring old men, of that she was quite sure. Her sisters were probably drinking wine and flirting with the soldiers. She was just happy to be on her own with no members of Hei Isazari hanging off her. As the priests walked past, Berenike clapped with polite enthusiasm. The priests looked straight ahead. Their expressions were stoic and their gazes intense and unwavering.
What caught her eye next was a dog following a pretty woman carrying what looked like meat. It seemed she was trying to get the dog to follow her and it was working. Berenike had to admit it was cute. Even though she was decidedly a cat person, she wasn’t completely immune to the charms of a cute dog. The charming duo passed her and that’s when she saw they were followed by a white man. She thought he would’ve been kind of handsome if he wasn’t making a face that looked like he’d just taken a bite of citron. Berenike assumed he was Greek, but then she thought that was unfair because people often assumed she was Greek.
She made eye contact with him and smiled at his confused expression. When she thought about the Egyptian lifestyle and customs through the eyes and mind of a foreigner, she knew how strange it looked. Their lives were strange to her, too. Over the excited cries of the people, she heard him ask his partner what they were doing.
“They are going to the Temple of Luxor,” Berenike said as she stepped closer to them so she could be heard.
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Berenike and her family had made the journey from Cairo to Thebes to take part in the festival. There was no way she could miss such a great time and not kick herself. The Opet Festival was truly magnificent. There were acrobats, dancers, and choirs of boys singing hymns in the streets. The sights, the smells— they were simply amazing. And, of course the main event was fantastic. From the Temple of Karnak, bald priests emerged. They were met with cries of joy so loud the Gods could hear them as the priests carried the statues of Amun, Mut, and Khons. The sacred statues were hidden from sight in an ornate box as they were paraded through the streets. Docked in the Nile waiting for them was a magnificent barque, but it would take the procession a while to get there. Once they had, they would then drift down to the Temple of Luxor, where the statues would stand for the next twenty four days before returning to Karnak. It was an ancient festival celebrated by Egyptians for millennia, though Berenike learned in school that parts of it had been changed over time.
While officially the festival was dedicated to and centered around Gods, The Feast of Opet was really a time for great parties. Berenike had dressed for the occasion. Her stark white linen gown was pleated and fit to her curves flatteringly. Around her waist, accentuating its slimness, a jeweled belt glittered in the hot Theban sun. Her nails, fingers, hands, toes, and feet were exquisitely hennaed in both swirling and geometric patterns. Heavy on her head was her finest Nubian wig, its beads bouncing and clattering with her every movement. Of course, no outfit of Berenike’s (or any Egyptian) was complete without makeup. Her eyes were lined with Kohl and dusted with a bronze ochre. The bronze color contrasted beautifully against her light eyes, bringing out their stark color.
Earlier in her dressing room, when she looked at herself in her in polished bronze mirror, she gasped at the work of her body servants. She was beautiful. That wasn’t just her arrogance, either, it was a simple fact. Today was sunny and Berenike looked beautiful. It was funny, though, that even though she was lovely and beautiful and stunning and all of that, she still couldn’t rival her younger sisters. It was selfish of her, but she was resentful that she was so beautiful and still considered the plainest sister.
Maybe that’s why the Gods blessed me with at least half a brain? She thought wryly, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.
The priests were making their way through the crowded streets now. The throngs of cheering people at the riverbank parted to make way for the priests. Berenike watched with great interest from a safe distance since she had no desire to be trampled. As for the rest of her family, she wasn’t entirely certain. Her father was watching safely from somewhere up high with some boring old men, of that she was quite sure. Her sisters were probably drinking wine and flirting with the soldiers. She was just happy to be on her own with no members of Hei Isazari hanging off her. As the priests walked past, Berenike clapped with polite enthusiasm. The priests looked straight ahead. Their expressions were stoic and their gazes intense and unwavering.
What caught her eye next was a dog following a pretty woman carrying what looked like meat. It seemed she was trying to get the dog to follow her and it was working. Berenike had to admit it was cute. Even though she was decidedly a cat person, she wasn’t completely immune to the charms of a cute dog. The charming duo passed her and that’s when she saw they were followed by a white man. She thought he would’ve been kind of handsome if he wasn’t making a face that looked like he’d just taken a bite of citron. Berenike assumed he was Greek, but then she thought that was unfair because people often assumed she was Greek.
She made eye contact with him and smiled at his confused expression. When she thought about the Egyptian lifestyle and customs through the eyes and mind of a foreigner, she knew how strange it looked. Their lives were strange to her, too. Over the excited cries of the people, she heard him ask his partner what they were doing.
“They are going to the Temple of Luxor,” Berenike said as she stepped closer to them so she could be heard.
Berenike and her family had made the journey from Cairo to Thebes to take part in the festival. There was no way she could miss such a great time and not kick herself. The Opet Festival was truly magnificent. There were acrobats, dancers, and choirs of boys singing hymns in the streets. The sights, the smells— they were simply amazing. And, of course the main event was fantastic. From the Temple of Karnak, bald priests emerged. They were met with cries of joy so loud the Gods could hear them as the priests carried the statues of Amun, Mut, and Khons. The sacred statues were hidden from sight in an ornate box as they were paraded through the streets. Docked in the Nile waiting for them was a magnificent barque, but it would take the procession a while to get there. Once they had, they would then drift down to the Temple of Luxor, where the statues would stand for the next twenty four days before returning to Karnak. It was an ancient festival celebrated by Egyptians for millennia, though Berenike learned in school that parts of it had been changed over time.
While officially the festival was dedicated to and centered around Gods, The Feast of Opet was really a time for great parties. Berenike had dressed for the occasion. Her stark white linen gown was pleated and fit to her curves flatteringly. Around her waist, accentuating its slimness, a jeweled belt glittered in the hot Theban sun. Her nails, fingers, hands, toes, and feet were exquisitely hennaed in both swirling and geometric patterns. Heavy on her head was her finest Nubian wig, its beads bouncing and clattering with her every movement. Of course, no outfit of Berenike’s (or any Egyptian) was complete without makeup. Her eyes were lined with Kohl and dusted with a bronze ochre. The bronze color contrasted beautifully against her light eyes, bringing out their stark color.
Earlier in her dressing room, when she looked at herself in her in polished bronze mirror, she gasped at the work of her body servants. She was beautiful. That wasn’t just her arrogance, either, it was a simple fact. Today was sunny and Berenike looked beautiful. It was funny, though, that even though she was lovely and beautiful and stunning and all of that, she still couldn’t rival her younger sisters. It was selfish of her, but she was resentful that she was so beautiful and still considered the plainest sister.
Maybe that’s why the Gods blessed me with at least half a brain? She thought wryly, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.
The priests were making their way through the crowded streets now. The throngs of cheering people at the riverbank parted to make way for the priests. Berenike watched with great interest from a safe distance since she had no desire to be trampled. As for the rest of her family, she wasn’t entirely certain. Her father was watching safely from somewhere up high with some boring old men, of that she was quite sure. Her sisters were probably drinking wine and flirting with the soldiers. She was just happy to be on her own with no members of Hei Isazari hanging off her. As the priests walked past, Berenike clapped with polite enthusiasm. The priests looked straight ahead. Their expressions were stoic and their gazes intense and unwavering.
What caught her eye next was a dog following a pretty woman carrying what looked like meat. It seemed she was trying to get the dog to follow her and it was working. Berenike had to admit it was cute. Even though she was decidedly a cat person, she wasn’t completely immune to the charms of a cute dog. The charming duo passed her and that’s when she saw they were followed by a white man. She thought he would’ve been kind of handsome if he wasn’t making a face that looked like he’d just taken a bite of citron. Berenike assumed he was Greek, but then she thought that was unfair because people often assumed she was Greek.
She made eye contact with him and smiled at his confused expression. When she thought about the Egyptian lifestyle and customs through the eyes and mind of a foreigner, she knew how strange it looked. Their lives were strange to her, too. Over the excited cries of the people, she heard him ask his partner what they were doing.
“They are going to the Temple of Luxor,” Berenike said as she stepped closer to them so she could be heard.
Hatshepsut spent most of the journey to Thebes heaving over the side of the royal barque. She had taken part in this ceremony many times and had never before been seasick. The child growing within her had to be the cause of her nausea, as it was the cause of so many other changes in her body. Her emotional state was affected as well. Sometimes she cried for no reason and at others, she was ecstatically joyful. She craved strange combinations of foods and was almost always hungry. And her breasts hurt so much she wished she could have left them bare today.
However, the occasion called for her to look majestic and regal. She wore a tight heavily beaded and bejeweled golden sheath that fell to her knees. The sheer kalisaris she wore beneath it flared to her feet in perfect pleats. The sheath's shoulder straps were beaded and bejeweled as well, as was her collar armbands, and earrings. She had temporarily removed her braided and beaded wig and her heavy crown so that they would not accidentally fall overboard.
Hatshepsut wished she had been able to stay at the palace, but her absence would have been conspicuous and perhaps would have led to suspicions about Iahotep keeping her locked away. Her pregnancy had not yet been formally announced or she might have had an excuse. As always, she would do as she must, allowing her people to see her and believe that all was well between their Pharaoh and their Queen.
If she had stayed, she would not have been able to visit the Temple of Hathor, which she hoped to do before they left. She wanted to pray to the Goddess and entreat her to allow her to deliver a healthy daughter when the time came. Though most women wished for sons, she wanted a girl because she knew that this child was Iahotep's. The next one she bore, which would most likely be Osorsen's, would be a son and her lover's child would be heir to the throne of Egypt.
When the barque docked, her stomach was empty and her queasiness nearly gone. Wig and crown back in place, the young Queen stood beside her husband, watching as the statues of the gods were unloaded and covered before starting their journey to the temple of Luxor. She and Iahotep disembarked as well and took their honored places in the procession, each carried in their own sedan chairs. Hatshepsut took in all of the merriment going on around her, watching the many entertainers and enjoying the music.
She knew firsthand what the celebrations entailed. Toward the end of last year's festival, she had begged Osorsen to take her there one night in disguise so that she could experience the festivities for herself. Garbed as commoners, they had enjoyed themselves immensely, drinking and dancing and laughing until it was almost dawn. Hatshepsut had even sung a few songs, accompanied by a group of musicians, and her voice had drawn a small crowd. None of them had any idea that they were being entertained by their Queen.
Maybe next year, they could do it again. The trip was too rough for her while pregnant, and she had to make sure to do nothing that would displease Iahotep during these early months of their marriage. Once he trusted her and she fooled him into believing that she was a meek little mouse who was afraid of adventure, she would have more freedom. Now, however, she could do little but sit in her sedan chair as it was carried to the temple, accepting the adoration of her people as they bowed and cheered while she passed by. They love me more than they love Iahotep, she thought smugly.
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Hatshepsut spent most of the journey to Thebes heaving over the side of the royal barque. She had taken part in this ceremony many times and had never before been seasick. The child growing within her had to be the cause of her nausea, as it was the cause of so many other changes in her body. Her emotional state was affected as well. Sometimes she cried for no reason and at others, she was ecstatically joyful. She craved strange combinations of foods and was almost always hungry. And her breasts hurt so much she wished she could have left them bare today.
However, the occasion called for her to look majestic and regal. She wore a tight heavily beaded and bejeweled golden sheath that fell to her knees. The sheer kalisaris she wore beneath it flared to her feet in perfect pleats. The sheath's shoulder straps were beaded and bejeweled as well, as was her collar armbands, and earrings. She had temporarily removed her braided and beaded wig and her heavy crown so that they would not accidentally fall overboard.
Hatshepsut wished she had been able to stay at the palace, but her absence would have been conspicuous and perhaps would have led to suspicions about Iahotep keeping her locked away. Her pregnancy had not yet been formally announced or she might have had an excuse. As always, she would do as she must, allowing her people to see her and believe that all was well between their Pharaoh and their Queen.
If she had stayed, she would not have been able to visit the Temple of Hathor, which she hoped to do before they left. She wanted to pray to the Goddess and entreat her to allow her to deliver a healthy daughter when the time came. Though most women wished for sons, she wanted a girl because she knew that this child was Iahotep's. The next one she bore, which would most likely be Osorsen's, would be a son and her lover's child would be heir to the throne of Egypt.
When the barque docked, her stomach was empty and her queasiness nearly gone. Wig and crown back in place, the young Queen stood beside her husband, watching as the statues of the gods were unloaded and covered before starting their journey to the temple of Luxor. She and Iahotep disembarked as well and took their honored places in the procession, each carried in their own sedan chairs. Hatshepsut took in all of the merriment going on around her, watching the many entertainers and enjoying the music.
She knew firsthand what the celebrations entailed. Toward the end of last year's festival, she had begged Osorsen to take her there one night in disguise so that she could experience the festivities for herself. Garbed as commoners, they had enjoyed themselves immensely, drinking and dancing and laughing until it was almost dawn. Hatshepsut had even sung a few songs, accompanied by a group of musicians, and her voice had drawn a small crowd. None of them had any idea that they were being entertained by their Queen.
Maybe next year, they could do it again. The trip was too rough for her while pregnant, and she had to make sure to do nothing that would displease Iahotep during these early months of their marriage. Once he trusted her and she fooled him into believing that she was a meek little mouse who was afraid of adventure, she would have more freedom. Now, however, she could do little but sit in her sedan chair as it was carried to the temple, accepting the adoration of her people as they bowed and cheered while she passed by. They love me more than they love Iahotep, she thought smugly.
Hatshepsut spent most of the journey to Thebes heaving over the side of the royal barque. She had taken part in this ceremony many times and had never before been seasick. The child growing within her had to be the cause of her nausea, as it was the cause of so many other changes in her body. Her emotional state was affected as well. Sometimes she cried for no reason and at others, she was ecstatically joyful. She craved strange combinations of foods and was almost always hungry. And her breasts hurt so much she wished she could have left them bare today.
However, the occasion called for her to look majestic and regal. She wore a tight heavily beaded and bejeweled golden sheath that fell to her knees. The sheer kalisaris she wore beneath it flared to her feet in perfect pleats. The sheath's shoulder straps were beaded and bejeweled as well, as was her collar armbands, and earrings. She had temporarily removed her braided and beaded wig and her heavy crown so that they would not accidentally fall overboard.
Hatshepsut wished she had been able to stay at the palace, but her absence would have been conspicuous and perhaps would have led to suspicions about Iahotep keeping her locked away. Her pregnancy had not yet been formally announced or she might have had an excuse. As always, she would do as she must, allowing her people to see her and believe that all was well between their Pharaoh and their Queen.
If she had stayed, she would not have been able to visit the Temple of Hathor, which she hoped to do before they left. She wanted to pray to the Goddess and entreat her to allow her to deliver a healthy daughter when the time came. Though most women wished for sons, she wanted a girl because she knew that this child was Iahotep's. The next one she bore, which would most likely be Osorsen's, would be a son and her lover's child would be heir to the throne of Egypt.
When the barque docked, her stomach was empty and her queasiness nearly gone. Wig and crown back in place, the young Queen stood beside her husband, watching as the statues of the gods were unloaded and covered before starting their journey to the temple of Luxor. She and Iahotep disembarked as well and took their honored places in the procession, each carried in their own sedan chairs. Hatshepsut took in all of the merriment going on around her, watching the many entertainers and enjoying the music.
She knew firsthand what the celebrations entailed. Toward the end of last year's festival, she had begged Osorsen to take her there one night in disguise so that she could experience the festivities for herself. Garbed as commoners, they had enjoyed themselves immensely, drinking and dancing and laughing until it was almost dawn. Hatshepsut had even sung a few songs, accompanied by a group of musicians, and her voice had drawn a small crowd. None of them had any idea that they were being entertained by their Queen.
Maybe next year, they could do it again. The trip was too rough for her while pregnant, and she had to make sure to do nothing that would displease Iahotep during these early months of their marriage. Once he trusted her and she fooled him into believing that she was a meek little mouse who was afraid of adventure, she would have more freedom. Now, however, she could do little but sit in her sedan chair as it was carried to the temple, accepting the adoration of her people as they bowed and cheered while she passed by. They love me more than they love Iahotep, she thought smugly.
Neena's eyes didn't seem able to get any bigger. She loved it. The life, the noises, the enthusiasm. The way the people came together as a single unit to celebrate in an atmosphere for joy and festivity. It was celebrations and parades and ceremonies like that that Neena loved best. Because they forced everything else aside. The issues of the day, the stresses of professions or occupations, the difficulties within a home. Whether your children were growing up right, whether money and finances were secure enough. They removed trade and bargaining in the upper classes (for most could not get work done on a practical level when the cities or settlements in which they lived were so dramatically altered and amassed in noise and colour. The entire thing pushed away normal life and removed every stressor and negative piece of life that could be found in the doldrum of normalcy. Instead, it replaced all of that with the joys of life. Not living. But life. The great excitement and happiness that you felt when you just considered the fact that you were alive.
And with everyone feeling the same enlightened joyfulness, it was infectious to the others who were new to the party. You could literally watch as patrons and civilians of the city were brought into the heightened euphoria spreading throughout the streets. With so much danger, threat and darkness creeping in at the corners of most people's lives, Neena loved to watch how openly contagious happiness was in an effort to combat such difficulties.
Celebrations like this reminded people what it meant to be alive. And that life was built on and strengthened by love over despair. And being in the middle of something like that made Neena's heart sing.
Apparently not the same was true for her grumpy companion.
The man moved like a dark shadow - an impression that had nothing to do with his garments or his pitch-black hair, but his facial features. His dark and stoic expressions stuck out like a thumb in a toe shop as he was the only person on the streets of the city whose face had not been split in two with the excitement of the festivities around him.
When he asked where the crowd were going. Neena raised her hands, palms up towards the sky and shoulders high, her mouth opening to shout back that she had absolutely no idea but did it matter?
Instead, she was given answer to the question by an exceptionally beautiful young woman who was dressed in fine raiment and appeared to be highly looked after on a personal level. Someone of the upper classes, Neena was willing to bet. The woman seemed to have no issue speaking aloud in answer to a Greek's question, nor watching the clearly Bedoan girl playing with the dog.
Forgetting to watch what she was doing for a moment, Neena laughed out an offended - "Hey!" - when Kreios' dog saw his opportunity and took the meat between his jaws. As the stick Neena held was relatively strong and the dog merely a puppy still, he wasn't able to strip the food clean of the wood and a childish tug of war began between canine and human.
Neena's hold didn't loosen but her attention was lost from the game, however, when she spotted a ship drawing into port at the end of the ship carrying the idol that the crowds had all been waiting for. Upon it was a man so ornately decorating in so very little, he could only be the Pharaoh and exceptionally beautiful and nubile young woman standing beside him. They were a fair distance away but Neena's eyesight was good enough that she could work out who they were.
"Oh wow, Grumpy look! It's the Queen and the Pharaoh!"
Taking a hand off of the stick to point in the appropriate direction - over Kreios' shoulder - Neena's grip was suddenly at half strength and the puppy wasn't stupid. With a yank he had the meat free of Neena's possession, stick waving wildly, still penetrating the food he held between his jaws. The dog took off and Neena moved into hightailed pursuit.
Bent double and running with a speed most wouldn't manage at half their height, Neena chased the creature - who clearly thought this to be a brand new and very exciting game) in a circle around the young noble woman - "Apologies m'Lady!" - and then around Kreios himself as she shoved at him, telling him to move so that she could catch the little creature. All the while playfully growling at the dog and making sweeping grasps for the skewer once more...
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Neena's eyes didn't seem able to get any bigger. She loved it. The life, the noises, the enthusiasm. The way the people came together as a single unit to celebrate in an atmosphere for joy and festivity. It was celebrations and parades and ceremonies like that that Neena loved best. Because they forced everything else aside. The issues of the day, the stresses of professions or occupations, the difficulties within a home. Whether your children were growing up right, whether money and finances were secure enough. They removed trade and bargaining in the upper classes (for most could not get work done on a practical level when the cities or settlements in which they lived were so dramatically altered and amassed in noise and colour. The entire thing pushed away normal life and removed every stressor and negative piece of life that could be found in the doldrum of normalcy. Instead, it replaced all of that with the joys of life. Not living. But life. The great excitement and happiness that you felt when you just considered the fact that you were alive.
And with everyone feeling the same enlightened joyfulness, it was infectious to the others who were new to the party. You could literally watch as patrons and civilians of the city were brought into the heightened euphoria spreading throughout the streets. With so much danger, threat and darkness creeping in at the corners of most people's lives, Neena loved to watch how openly contagious happiness was in an effort to combat such difficulties.
Celebrations like this reminded people what it meant to be alive. And that life was built on and strengthened by love over despair. And being in the middle of something like that made Neena's heart sing.
Apparently not the same was true for her grumpy companion.
The man moved like a dark shadow - an impression that had nothing to do with his garments or his pitch-black hair, but his facial features. His dark and stoic expressions stuck out like a thumb in a toe shop as he was the only person on the streets of the city whose face had not been split in two with the excitement of the festivities around him.
When he asked where the crowd were going. Neena raised her hands, palms up towards the sky and shoulders high, her mouth opening to shout back that she had absolutely no idea but did it matter?
Instead, she was given answer to the question by an exceptionally beautiful young woman who was dressed in fine raiment and appeared to be highly looked after on a personal level. Someone of the upper classes, Neena was willing to bet. The woman seemed to have no issue speaking aloud in answer to a Greek's question, nor watching the clearly Bedoan girl playing with the dog.
Forgetting to watch what she was doing for a moment, Neena laughed out an offended - "Hey!" - when Kreios' dog saw his opportunity and took the meat between his jaws. As the stick Neena held was relatively strong and the dog merely a puppy still, he wasn't able to strip the food clean of the wood and a childish tug of war began between canine and human.
Neena's hold didn't loosen but her attention was lost from the game, however, when she spotted a ship drawing into port at the end of the ship carrying the idol that the crowds had all been waiting for. Upon it was a man so ornately decorating in so very little, he could only be the Pharaoh and exceptionally beautiful and nubile young woman standing beside him. They were a fair distance away but Neena's eyesight was good enough that she could work out who they were.
"Oh wow, Grumpy look! It's the Queen and the Pharaoh!"
Taking a hand off of the stick to point in the appropriate direction - over Kreios' shoulder - Neena's grip was suddenly at half strength and the puppy wasn't stupid. With a yank he had the meat free of Neena's possession, stick waving wildly, still penetrating the food he held between his jaws. The dog took off and Neena moved into hightailed pursuit.
Bent double and running with a speed most wouldn't manage at half their height, Neena chased the creature - who clearly thought this to be a brand new and very exciting game) in a circle around the young noble woman - "Apologies m'Lady!" - and then around Kreios himself as she shoved at him, telling him to move so that she could catch the little creature. All the while playfully growling at the dog and making sweeping grasps for the skewer once more...
Neena's eyes didn't seem able to get any bigger. She loved it. The life, the noises, the enthusiasm. The way the people came together as a single unit to celebrate in an atmosphere for joy and festivity. It was celebrations and parades and ceremonies like that that Neena loved best. Because they forced everything else aside. The issues of the day, the stresses of professions or occupations, the difficulties within a home. Whether your children were growing up right, whether money and finances were secure enough. They removed trade and bargaining in the upper classes (for most could not get work done on a practical level when the cities or settlements in which they lived were so dramatically altered and amassed in noise and colour. The entire thing pushed away normal life and removed every stressor and negative piece of life that could be found in the doldrum of normalcy. Instead, it replaced all of that with the joys of life. Not living. But life. The great excitement and happiness that you felt when you just considered the fact that you were alive.
And with everyone feeling the same enlightened joyfulness, it was infectious to the others who were new to the party. You could literally watch as patrons and civilians of the city were brought into the heightened euphoria spreading throughout the streets. With so much danger, threat and darkness creeping in at the corners of most people's lives, Neena loved to watch how openly contagious happiness was in an effort to combat such difficulties.
Celebrations like this reminded people what it meant to be alive. And that life was built on and strengthened by love over despair. And being in the middle of something like that made Neena's heart sing.
Apparently not the same was true for her grumpy companion.
The man moved like a dark shadow - an impression that had nothing to do with his garments or his pitch-black hair, but his facial features. His dark and stoic expressions stuck out like a thumb in a toe shop as he was the only person on the streets of the city whose face had not been split in two with the excitement of the festivities around him.
When he asked where the crowd were going. Neena raised her hands, palms up towards the sky and shoulders high, her mouth opening to shout back that she had absolutely no idea but did it matter?
Instead, she was given answer to the question by an exceptionally beautiful young woman who was dressed in fine raiment and appeared to be highly looked after on a personal level. Someone of the upper classes, Neena was willing to bet. The woman seemed to have no issue speaking aloud in answer to a Greek's question, nor watching the clearly Bedoan girl playing with the dog.
Forgetting to watch what she was doing for a moment, Neena laughed out an offended - "Hey!" - when Kreios' dog saw his opportunity and took the meat between his jaws. As the stick Neena held was relatively strong and the dog merely a puppy still, he wasn't able to strip the food clean of the wood and a childish tug of war began between canine and human.
Neena's hold didn't loosen but her attention was lost from the game, however, when she spotted a ship drawing into port at the end of the ship carrying the idol that the crowds had all been waiting for. Upon it was a man so ornately decorating in so very little, he could only be the Pharaoh and exceptionally beautiful and nubile young woman standing beside him. They were a fair distance away but Neena's eyesight was good enough that she could work out who they were.
"Oh wow, Grumpy look! It's the Queen and the Pharaoh!"
Taking a hand off of the stick to point in the appropriate direction - over Kreios' shoulder - Neena's grip was suddenly at half strength and the puppy wasn't stupid. With a yank he had the meat free of Neena's possession, stick waving wildly, still penetrating the food he held between his jaws. The dog took off and Neena moved into hightailed pursuit.
Bent double and running with a speed most wouldn't manage at half their height, Neena chased the creature - who clearly thought this to be a brand new and very exciting game) in a circle around the young noble woman - "Apologies m'Lady!" - and then around Kreios himself as she shoved at him, telling him to move so that she could catch the little creature. All the while playfully growling at the dog and making sweeping grasps for the skewer once more...
How was she so easily excitable by.... everything? Kreios was a man of habits and structure, who liked knowing where everything was and what would be happening at what exact time. For him, that was a peaceful life where nothing untoward could catch him offguard, and where he could peacefully plan for his next steps. For someone like that, having a person like Neena constantly bouncing around searching for new things disgruntled him.
Yet, his payment was handsome.
So the man dealt with it. It wasn't that he didn't like celebrations. He didn't dislike them either. On the contrary, Kreios was simply... uninterested in them. He found celebrations of life and laughter unnecessary, for at the end of the day, life would end and laughter would fade, and all that would be left was the would-be's and the could-have-been's, all of which were pointless in one's afterlife. What mattered the most was what one did in the moment, while they lived.
Raising a brow when the Bedoan looked as if he wanted to challenge her asking, he was caught off guard when another voice answered him. Kreios found himself turning his obsidian gaze, only for it to fall upon a beautiful bronzed skin woman who was clearly of local origin from the tone of her voice and the language which she spoke, a language Kreios was unfamiliar with, but could decipher and speak brokenly.
Chancing a glance at Neena, the man stifled a groan when he saw her chasing after his dog of all things, and closed his eyes as if drawing on reserves of patience, before turning to offer the foreign lady a gentle, appreciative smile. "Thank you." he murmured, his coptic rusty but understandable at least. "And may I know of what celebration this would be? I may visit often, but I seem to not be well versed in man of your beautiful festivities." Polished and polite, it was the veneer of a merchant that Kreios usually showed others, none of the curt, short tone he usually used on Neena. He had to get his business somewhere afterall, and one drew more customers with bees then with bitterness.
Neena just got special treatment.
Turning when he heard her call out again - albeit with a name he frowned at - Kreios raised a brow when his onyx eyes followed the direction he pointed, and sure enough, he saw the figure of a grandly decorated man, and an equally grandly decorated litter with a woman who was gorgeous, albeit a little young. Taking a step towards Neena, his gaze followed the procession with a flicker of interest in his eyes, almost not noticing the way she started chasing after Typhon, until she apologized to Berenike.
At that point, the man turned, and this time failed to stifle the loud groan that turned into a yelp as she shoved at him. "Typhon." Kreios snapped, a tone sharp enough to get his hound to immediately drop the skewer he held in his jaws to the ground, tails dropping. With a flick of his wrist, the canine trotted obediently to his side, and only then did he level a stern, dark gaze upon Neena. "My dog is no plaything. He is meant to be a guard." There was no room for argument in his tone, as he turned to Berenike again, apology in his eyes. "The name's Kreios," and at that, the man gave a pointed glare at Neena, before returning the easygoing smile to Berenike as he continued, "and I count myself lucky to be in the vicinity during this procession, m'lady. What would be the endgoal for the whole ceremony?"
Waiting for the Egyptian's answer, over Berenike's shoulder, Kreios flashed Neena a look as if to tell her to simmer down before she accidentally fell over and disrupted the whole ceremony which could very well be sacred to someone. He wasn't going to risk it, considering he did not know their customs very well, but at the least he didn't want there to be a possibility of him getting drawn and quartered because his charge decided to make a game out of his hound. Typhon now seemed to stick to his legs, knowing his mistake of trying to steal food.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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How was she so easily excitable by.... everything? Kreios was a man of habits and structure, who liked knowing where everything was and what would be happening at what exact time. For him, that was a peaceful life where nothing untoward could catch him offguard, and where he could peacefully plan for his next steps. For someone like that, having a person like Neena constantly bouncing around searching for new things disgruntled him.
Yet, his payment was handsome.
So the man dealt with it. It wasn't that he didn't like celebrations. He didn't dislike them either. On the contrary, Kreios was simply... uninterested in them. He found celebrations of life and laughter unnecessary, for at the end of the day, life would end and laughter would fade, and all that would be left was the would-be's and the could-have-been's, all of which were pointless in one's afterlife. What mattered the most was what one did in the moment, while they lived.
Raising a brow when the Bedoan looked as if he wanted to challenge her asking, he was caught off guard when another voice answered him. Kreios found himself turning his obsidian gaze, only for it to fall upon a beautiful bronzed skin woman who was clearly of local origin from the tone of her voice and the language which she spoke, a language Kreios was unfamiliar with, but could decipher and speak brokenly.
Chancing a glance at Neena, the man stifled a groan when he saw her chasing after his dog of all things, and closed his eyes as if drawing on reserves of patience, before turning to offer the foreign lady a gentle, appreciative smile. "Thank you." he murmured, his coptic rusty but understandable at least. "And may I know of what celebration this would be? I may visit often, but I seem to not be well versed in man of your beautiful festivities." Polished and polite, it was the veneer of a merchant that Kreios usually showed others, none of the curt, short tone he usually used on Neena. He had to get his business somewhere afterall, and one drew more customers with bees then with bitterness.
Neena just got special treatment.
Turning when he heard her call out again - albeit with a name he frowned at - Kreios raised a brow when his onyx eyes followed the direction he pointed, and sure enough, he saw the figure of a grandly decorated man, and an equally grandly decorated litter with a woman who was gorgeous, albeit a little young. Taking a step towards Neena, his gaze followed the procession with a flicker of interest in his eyes, almost not noticing the way she started chasing after Typhon, until she apologized to Berenike.
At that point, the man turned, and this time failed to stifle the loud groan that turned into a yelp as she shoved at him. "Typhon." Kreios snapped, a tone sharp enough to get his hound to immediately drop the skewer he held in his jaws to the ground, tails dropping. With a flick of his wrist, the canine trotted obediently to his side, and only then did he level a stern, dark gaze upon Neena. "My dog is no plaything. He is meant to be a guard." There was no room for argument in his tone, as he turned to Berenike again, apology in his eyes. "The name's Kreios," and at that, the man gave a pointed glare at Neena, before returning the easygoing smile to Berenike as he continued, "and I count myself lucky to be in the vicinity during this procession, m'lady. What would be the endgoal for the whole ceremony?"
Waiting for the Egyptian's answer, over Berenike's shoulder, Kreios flashed Neena a look as if to tell her to simmer down before she accidentally fell over and disrupted the whole ceremony which could very well be sacred to someone. He wasn't going to risk it, considering he did not know their customs very well, but at the least he didn't want there to be a possibility of him getting drawn and quartered because his charge decided to make a game out of his hound. Typhon now seemed to stick to his legs, knowing his mistake of trying to steal food.
How was she so easily excitable by.... everything? Kreios was a man of habits and structure, who liked knowing where everything was and what would be happening at what exact time. For him, that was a peaceful life where nothing untoward could catch him offguard, and where he could peacefully plan for his next steps. For someone like that, having a person like Neena constantly bouncing around searching for new things disgruntled him.
Yet, his payment was handsome.
So the man dealt with it. It wasn't that he didn't like celebrations. He didn't dislike them either. On the contrary, Kreios was simply... uninterested in them. He found celebrations of life and laughter unnecessary, for at the end of the day, life would end and laughter would fade, and all that would be left was the would-be's and the could-have-been's, all of which were pointless in one's afterlife. What mattered the most was what one did in the moment, while they lived.
Raising a brow when the Bedoan looked as if he wanted to challenge her asking, he was caught off guard when another voice answered him. Kreios found himself turning his obsidian gaze, only for it to fall upon a beautiful bronzed skin woman who was clearly of local origin from the tone of her voice and the language which she spoke, a language Kreios was unfamiliar with, but could decipher and speak brokenly.
Chancing a glance at Neena, the man stifled a groan when he saw her chasing after his dog of all things, and closed his eyes as if drawing on reserves of patience, before turning to offer the foreign lady a gentle, appreciative smile. "Thank you." he murmured, his coptic rusty but understandable at least. "And may I know of what celebration this would be? I may visit often, but I seem to not be well versed in man of your beautiful festivities." Polished and polite, it was the veneer of a merchant that Kreios usually showed others, none of the curt, short tone he usually used on Neena. He had to get his business somewhere afterall, and one drew more customers with bees then with bitterness.
Neena just got special treatment.
Turning when he heard her call out again - albeit with a name he frowned at - Kreios raised a brow when his onyx eyes followed the direction he pointed, and sure enough, he saw the figure of a grandly decorated man, and an equally grandly decorated litter with a woman who was gorgeous, albeit a little young. Taking a step towards Neena, his gaze followed the procession with a flicker of interest in his eyes, almost not noticing the way she started chasing after Typhon, until she apologized to Berenike.
At that point, the man turned, and this time failed to stifle the loud groan that turned into a yelp as she shoved at him. "Typhon." Kreios snapped, a tone sharp enough to get his hound to immediately drop the skewer he held in his jaws to the ground, tails dropping. With a flick of his wrist, the canine trotted obediently to his side, and only then did he level a stern, dark gaze upon Neena. "My dog is no plaything. He is meant to be a guard." There was no room for argument in his tone, as he turned to Berenike again, apology in his eyes. "The name's Kreios," and at that, the man gave a pointed glare at Neena, before returning the easygoing smile to Berenike as he continued, "and I count myself lucky to be in the vicinity during this procession, m'lady. What would be the endgoal for the whole ceremony?"
Waiting for the Egyptian's answer, over Berenike's shoulder, Kreios flashed Neena a look as if to tell her to simmer down before she accidentally fell over and disrupted the whole ceremony which could very well be sacred to someone. He wasn't going to risk it, considering he did not know their customs very well, but at the least he didn't want there to be a possibility of him getting drawn and quartered because his charge decided to make a game out of his hound. Typhon now seemed to stick to his legs, knowing his mistake of trying to steal food.
Having plopped onto her rear when Kreios had arrested the game of fun by instructing the dog to drop both the food and his bottom to the ground beside his master, Neena stuck her legs out in front of her where she sat, heedless of the crowds passing around them. She blew out her exhalation with frustration, directing it up over her own face so that it sent a sprig of her own curling hair up and out of her eyes.
With a second exhale - this one calmer and resigned, Neena curled her legs up under her and then moved gracefully to her feet without the aid of her hands and then dusted the sand from her bottom and thighs quickly and with an air of distraction about her.
"Spoilsport." She muttered in a tone that was too light to be considered sullen but clearly expressing that his determination to avoid fun was - in her opinion - a foolish and pointless effort that she could never agree with nor understand.
Standing to one side with her arms folded over her chest and her eyes skimming the crowd and all the fascinating elements of the world around her, occasionally glancing back at the man who was determined to be depressing despite all the excitement and life going on around him. Neena was still on the fence regarding Kreios.
The man was stoicism incarnate and not just stoic within himself - but he expected everyone else to be so as well. Like pragmaticism and practicality was a better route to life than the enjoyment of what you had around you. It was a depressing way to live life - at least as far as she was concerned - and while initially the man had been amusing to rib and prod in order to seek reaction and annoyance, now he was just being a wet blanket.
If the other woman hadn't been around, Neena would have called the poison peddler out on his depressing attitude, demanding to know if he even knew how to smile. And that, if he took no enjoyment in life, why was he so driven by monetary value and success? What did he hope his riches to gain him if nothing in life held interest for him?
But with the presence of an Egyptian noble lady, it wasn't really the time and place to rake the man over the coals for being a stick-in-the-mud and, as Kreios had effectively removed her only play-partner without offering himself up as a replacement, Neena turned her attention elsewhere, already bored.
Spying a small group of kids, dressed in ragged clothes and bare-footed, Neena recognised her own kind and immediately headed in that direction, heedless of the distance it placed between Kreios and herself. The kids were playing a game she wanted to try...
Each held a hoop that seemed to be made out of cane that had been bent carefully into shape and then fused with honey and clay to ensure it remained into a perfect circle. They then held sticks that they used to push the hoops along the floor. The aim was clearly to keep the hoop spinning and heading in the same direction for as long and far as possible. The kids were playing it down the side of the parade crowds and it took no time at all for Neena's smile and joyous attitude to have several of them smiling her way and offering her a hoop.
Engaging in a race with one of the older boys, Neena lost the first race - still learning the fundamentals of how best to keep the hoop upright - and then won the second. But only because she had reached out and resorted to tickling the boy in his middle just before the end of the race, sending him scampering back a few steps in laughter and securing her the win.
The children good-naturedly booed and roared for a rematch, as Neena was exaggerating in her thanks and praise for her win, bowing and soaking up the none-existent platitudes.
After several minutes of her chasing the kids with her tickling fingers outstretched, the young Bedoan held up a finger and insisted that she could make it up to the children with a display of great dexterity. She then snatched up several of the hoops, looped them over her wrists and started to spin her arms, sending the rings around her over and over and a whirl of show. The kids cheered and clapped their hands offering up more hoops to join what she already had. With a large grin on her face, Neena waited until she was spinning three hoops upon each arm before she started to carefully transfer hoops between her hands and then very carefully threw one into the air and caught it on her ankle. Standing on one foot and spinning for all she was worth, Neena couldn't help laughing at the kids expressions, realising that she was now drawing attention from the crowds of people - the pedestrians of the parade assuming, with her bright clothing and ostentatious show, that she was part of the hired entertainment along the parade route - as several coins were thrown down near her feet...
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Having plopped onto her rear when Kreios had arrested the game of fun by instructing the dog to drop both the food and his bottom to the ground beside his master, Neena stuck her legs out in front of her where she sat, heedless of the crowds passing around them. She blew out her exhalation with frustration, directing it up over her own face so that it sent a sprig of her own curling hair up and out of her eyes.
With a second exhale - this one calmer and resigned, Neena curled her legs up under her and then moved gracefully to her feet without the aid of her hands and then dusted the sand from her bottom and thighs quickly and with an air of distraction about her.
"Spoilsport." She muttered in a tone that was too light to be considered sullen but clearly expressing that his determination to avoid fun was - in her opinion - a foolish and pointless effort that she could never agree with nor understand.
Standing to one side with her arms folded over her chest and her eyes skimming the crowd and all the fascinating elements of the world around her, occasionally glancing back at the man who was determined to be depressing despite all the excitement and life going on around him. Neena was still on the fence regarding Kreios.
The man was stoicism incarnate and not just stoic within himself - but he expected everyone else to be so as well. Like pragmaticism and practicality was a better route to life than the enjoyment of what you had around you. It was a depressing way to live life - at least as far as she was concerned - and while initially the man had been amusing to rib and prod in order to seek reaction and annoyance, now he was just being a wet blanket.
If the other woman hadn't been around, Neena would have called the poison peddler out on his depressing attitude, demanding to know if he even knew how to smile. And that, if he took no enjoyment in life, why was he so driven by monetary value and success? What did he hope his riches to gain him if nothing in life held interest for him?
But with the presence of an Egyptian noble lady, it wasn't really the time and place to rake the man over the coals for being a stick-in-the-mud and, as Kreios had effectively removed her only play-partner without offering himself up as a replacement, Neena turned her attention elsewhere, already bored.
Spying a small group of kids, dressed in ragged clothes and bare-footed, Neena recognised her own kind and immediately headed in that direction, heedless of the distance it placed between Kreios and herself. The kids were playing a game she wanted to try...
Each held a hoop that seemed to be made out of cane that had been bent carefully into shape and then fused with honey and clay to ensure it remained into a perfect circle. They then held sticks that they used to push the hoops along the floor. The aim was clearly to keep the hoop spinning and heading in the same direction for as long and far as possible. The kids were playing it down the side of the parade crowds and it took no time at all for Neena's smile and joyous attitude to have several of them smiling her way and offering her a hoop.
Engaging in a race with one of the older boys, Neena lost the first race - still learning the fundamentals of how best to keep the hoop upright - and then won the second. But only because she had reached out and resorted to tickling the boy in his middle just before the end of the race, sending him scampering back a few steps in laughter and securing her the win.
The children good-naturedly booed and roared for a rematch, as Neena was exaggerating in her thanks and praise for her win, bowing and soaking up the none-existent platitudes.
After several minutes of her chasing the kids with her tickling fingers outstretched, the young Bedoan held up a finger and insisted that she could make it up to the children with a display of great dexterity. She then snatched up several of the hoops, looped them over her wrists and started to spin her arms, sending the rings around her over and over and a whirl of show. The kids cheered and clapped their hands offering up more hoops to join what she already had. With a large grin on her face, Neena waited until she was spinning three hoops upon each arm before she started to carefully transfer hoops between her hands and then very carefully threw one into the air and caught it on her ankle. Standing on one foot and spinning for all she was worth, Neena couldn't help laughing at the kids expressions, realising that she was now drawing attention from the crowds of people - the pedestrians of the parade assuming, with her bright clothing and ostentatious show, that she was part of the hired entertainment along the parade route - as several coins were thrown down near her feet...
Having plopped onto her rear when Kreios had arrested the game of fun by instructing the dog to drop both the food and his bottom to the ground beside his master, Neena stuck her legs out in front of her where she sat, heedless of the crowds passing around them. She blew out her exhalation with frustration, directing it up over her own face so that it sent a sprig of her own curling hair up and out of her eyes.
With a second exhale - this one calmer and resigned, Neena curled her legs up under her and then moved gracefully to her feet without the aid of her hands and then dusted the sand from her bottom and thighs quickly and with an air of distraction about her.
"Spoilsport." She muttered in a tone that was too light to be considered sullen but clearly expressing that his determination to avoid fun was - in her opinion - a foolish and pointless effort that she could never agree with nor understand.
Standing to one side with her arms folded over her chest and her eyes skimming the crowd and all the fascinating elements of the world around her, occasionally glancing back at the man who was determined to be depressing despite all the excitement and life going on around him. Neena was still on the fence regarding Kreios.
The man was stoicism incarnate and not just stoic within himself - but he expected everyone else to be so as well. Like pragmaticism and practicality was a better route to life than the enjoyment of what you had around you. It was a depressing way to live life - at least as far as she was concerned - and while initially the man had been amusing to rib and prod in order to seek reaction and annoyance, now he was just being a wet blanket.
If the other woman hadn't been around, Neena would have called the poison peddler out on his depressing attitude, demanding to know if he even knew how to smile. And that, if he took no enjoyment in life, why was he so driven by monetary value and success? What did he hope his riches to gain him if nothing in life held interest for him?
But with the presence of an Egyptian noble lady, it wasn't really the time and place to rake the man over the coals for being a stick-in-the-mud and, as Kreios had effectively removed her only play-partner without offering himself up as a replacement, Neena turned her attention elsewhere, already bored.
Spying a small group of kids, dressed in ragged clothes and bare-footed, Neena recognised her own kind and immediately headed in that direction, heedless of the distance it placed between Kreios and herself. The kids were playing a game she wanted to try...
Each held a hoop that seemed to be made out of cane that had been bent carefully into shape and then fused with honey and clay to ensure it remained into a perfect circle. They then held sticks that they used to push the hoops along the floor. The aim was clearly to keep the hoop spinning and heading in the same direction for as long and far as possible. The kids were playing it down the side of the parade crowds and it took no time at all for Neena's smile and joyous attitude to have several of them smiling her way and offering her a hoop.
Engaging in a race with one of the older boys, Neena lost the first race - still learning the fundamentals of how best to keep the hoop upright - and then won the second. But only because she had reached out and resorted to tickling the boy in his middle just before the end of the race, sending him scampering back a few steps in laughter and securing her the win.
The children good-naturedly booed and roared for a rematch, as Neena was exaggerating in her thanks and praise for her win, bowing and soaking up the none-existent platitudes.
After several minutes of her chasing the kids with her tickling fingers outstretched, the young Bedoan held up a finger and insisted that she could make it up to the children with a display of great dexterity. She then snatched up several of the hoops, looped them over her wrists and started to spin her arms, sending the rings around her over and over and a whirl of show. The kids cheered and clapped their hands offering up more hoops to join what she already had. With a large grin on her face, Neena waited until she was spinning three hoops upon each arm before she started to carefully transfer hoops between her hands and then very carefully threw one into the air and caught it on her ankle. Standing on one foot and spinning for all she was worth, Neena couldn't help laughing at the kids expressions, realising that she was now drawing attention from the crowds of people - the pedestrians of the parade assuming, with her bright clothing and ostentatious show, that she was part of the hired entertainment along the parade route - as several coins were thrown down near her feet...
Berenike watched with wide eyes and raised eyebrows as the Bedoan woman chased the dog in a circle around her. She caught sight of some children far away pointing and laughing at them, and she felt her cheeks heat up slightly. She didn’t blame them. She knew if the roles were reversed she would be laughing, too. It was like a scene from a play. Thankfully, the man called both his dog and what Berenike presumed to be his slave, though she wasn’t entirely sure. If this woman was this man’s slave, he certainly allowed this slave a lot of freedom.
“… We are celebrating the rebirth and life of Amun, Mut, and their child Khonsu.”
It was then that Neena called their attention to the arrival of the Royals. Nicky’s eyes immediately went to Hatshepsut in her all her glittering splendor. She looked absolutely stunning in all her gold and jewels. Nicky’s heart swelled with pride for her friend who she truly only wanted the best for. Pharaoh, by comparison, was dressed even more spectacularly but still failed to garner everyone’s attention. No matter what he wore or what he did, he would always be ordinary in her eyes- especially when next to Hatshepsut.
Berenike was still on the fence about her feelings for Pharaoh Iahotep. She wasn’t entirely sure he was trustworthy. He wanted a war, Berenike wasn’t entirely sure that was the best choice for the country. The man opposite her started to speak again and she tore her eyes away from the royals.
“Kre…ios… Kreios…” Berenike tried his name out several times in her Coptic tongue. She giggled and put her hand over her mouth. “Did I say it right? And the end goal of this? Why, to have a good time, of course! A monk probably has a better answer for you, though.” She gave him a teasing smile.
“I am Berenike of Hei Isazari. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kre-ios.” She giggled when she stumbled over his name again. Nicky glanced down at the dog, now sitting obediently at his master’s feet and regarding her with vague interest. An impulsive part of her wanted to reach out and stroke his furry head, but then she imagined the dog’s giant teeth sinking into her flesh, and she thought better of it. Petting strange dogs was never a good idea.
“Hello,” she said to the dog in her special voice reserved only for animals. “And do you have a name?”
It was then that she noticed Neena running and playing with children. How odd these two are, she thought. They could not be more different from each other.
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Berenike watched with wide eyes and raised eyebrows as the Bedoan woman chased the dog in a circle around her. She caught sight of some children far away pointing and laughing at them, and she felt her cheeks heat up slightly. She didn’t blame them. She knew if the roles were reversed she would be laughing, too. It was like a scene from a play. Thankfully, the man called both his dog and what Berenike presumed to be his slave, though she wasn’t entirely sure. If this woman was this man’s slave, he certainly allowed this slave a lot of freedom.
“… We are celebrating the rebirth and life of Amun, Mut, and their child Khonsu.”
It was then that Neena called their attention to the arrival of the Royals. Nicky’s eyes immediately went to Hatshepsut in her all her glittering splendor. She looked absolutely stunning in all her gold and jewels. Nicky’s heart swelled with pride for her friend who she truly only wanted the best for. Pharaoh, by comparison, was dressed even more spectacularly but still failed to garner everyone’s attention. No matter what he wore or what he did, he would always be ordinary in her eyes- especially when next to Hatshepsut.
Berenike was still on the fence about her feelings for Pharaoh Iahotep. She wasn’t entirely sure he was trustworthy. He wanted a war, Berenike wasn’t entirely sure that was the best choice for the country. The man opposite her started to speak again and she tore her eyes away from the royals.
“Kre…ios… Kreios…” Berenike tried his name out several times in her Coptic tongue. She giggled and put her hand over her mouth. “Did I say it right? And the end goal of this? Why, to have a good time, of course! A monk probably has a better answer for you, though.” She gave him a teasing smile.
“I am Berenike of Hei Isazari. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kre-ios.” She giggled when she stumbled over his name again. Nicky glanced down at the dog, now sitting obediently at his master’s feet and regarding her with vague interest. An impulsive part of her wanted to reach out and stroke his furry head, but then she imagined the dog’s giant teeth sinking into her flesh, and she thought better of it. Petting strange dogs was never a good idea.
“Hello,” she said to the dog in her special voice reserved only for animals. “And do you have a name?”
It was then that she noticed Neena running and playing with children. How odd these two are, she thought. They could not be more different from each other.
Berenike watched with wide eyes and raised eyebrows as the Bedoan woman chased the dog in a circle around her. She caught sight of some children far away pointing and laughing at them, and she felt her cheeks heat up slightly. She didn’t blame them. She knew if the roles were reversed she would be laughing, too. It was like a scene from a play. Thankfully, the man called both his dog and what Berenike presumed to be his slave, though she wasn’t entirely sure. If this woman was this man’s slave, he certainly allowed this slave a lot of freedom.
“… We are celebrating the rebirth and life of Amun, Mut, and their child Khonsu.”
It was then that Neena called their attention to the arrival of the Royals. Nicky’s eyes immediately went to Hatshepsut in her all her glittering splendor. She looked absolutely stunning in all her gold and jewels. Nicky’s heart swelled with pride for her friend who she truly only wanted the best for. Pharaoh, by comparison, was dressed even more spectacularly but still failed to garner everyone’s attention. No matter what he wore or what he did, he would always be ordinary in her eyes- especially when next to Hatshepsut.
Berenike was still on the fence about her feelings for Pharaoh Iahotep. She wasn’t entirely sure he was trustworthy. He wanted a war, Berenike wasn’t entirely sure that was the best choice for the country. The man opposite her started to speak again and she tore her eyes away from the royals.
“Kre…ios… Kreios…” Berenike tried his name out several times in her Coptic tongue. She giggled and put her hand over her mouth. “Did I say it right? And the end goal of this? Why, to have a good time, of course! A monk probably has a better answer for you, though.” She gave him a teasing smile.
“I am Berenike of Hei Isazari. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kre-ios.” She giggled when she stumbled over his name again. Nicky glanced down at the dog, now sitting obediently at his master’s feet and regarding her with vague interest. An impulsive part of her wanted to reach out and stroke his furry head, but then she imagined the dog’s giant teeth sinking into her flesh, and she thought better of it. Petting strange dogs was never a good idea.
“Hello,” she said to the dog in her special voice reserved only for animals. “And do you have a name?”
It was then that she noticed Neena running and playing with children. How odd these two are, she thought. They could not be more different from each other.
Had the procession always been so slow or was it moving at a snail's pace because more people than usual had turned out to see their new Pharaoh? He was one of them, after all, a commoner who had risen to the title and position of King of Kings. Today he would take the part in the reenactment of the coronation ceremony, though he had only been crowned two months ago.
That role had traditionally been hers, and Hatshepsut remembered well the fright of those early years, which had been replaced by excitement and pride when she realized what the ceremony meant. Last year had been special because she was finally considered an adult and able to rule in her own right until she was wed. It had been a momentous occasion and she had truly felt blessed by the gods.
How would Iahotep handle it, she wondered? Would he consider it an honor or a chore? If he wanted to be popular with his people, he would be respectful and humble, but she really couldn't see him toning down that arrogant entitlement that so irritated her. Well and so. If he angered the population, they would just adore her more.
Her reverie was interrupted by a group of musicians who pushed to the front of the crowd, keeping pace beside her sedan chair and serenading her with a beautiful tune. Hatshepsut smiled at them, tapping one small foot in time with their music. The stoic bearers didn't falter, keeping up with the rest of the procession. When the musicians had finished playing for her, she applauded enthusiastically as they bowed to her.
Some children took their place, running beside the chair just to get a glimpse of their queen. One little girl held up a bouquet of flowers and Hatshepsut reached down to take it from her, thanking her for the gift. The child's face lit up with happiness and then she disappeared back into the crowd. Soon, her chair was full of flowers and other small gifts bestowed upon her by her people. Hatshepsut doubted that Iahotep had fared so well. She glanced over at him and could not keep a satisfied smirk from turning up the corners of her lips.
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Had the procession always been so slow or was it moving at a snail's pace because more people than usual had turned out to see their new Pharaoh? He was one of them, after all, a commoner who had risen to the title and position of King of Kings. Today he would take the part in the reenactment of the coronation ceremony, though he had only been crowned two months ago.
That role had traditionally been hers, and Hatshepsut remembered well the fright of those early years, which had been replaced by excitement and pride when she realized what the ceremony meant. Last year had been special because she was finally considered an adult and able to rule in her own right until she was wed. It had been a momentous occasion and she had truly felt blessed by the gods.
How would Iahotep handle it, she wondered? Would he consider it an honor or a chore? If he wanted to be popular with his people, he would be respectful and humble, but she really couldn't see him toning down that arrogant entitlement that so irritated her. Well and so. If he angered the population, they would just adore her more.
Her reverie was interrupted by a group of musicians who pushed to the front of the crowd, keeping pace beside her sedan chair and serenading her with a beautiful tune. Hatshepsut smiled at them, tapping one small foot in time with their music. The stoic bearers didn't falter, keeping up with the rest of the procession. When the musicians had finished playing for her, she applauded enthusiastically as they bowed to her.
Some children took their place, running beside the chair just to get a glimpse of their queen. One little girl held up a bouquet of flowers and Hatshepsut reached down to take it from her, thanking her for the gift. The child's face lit up with happiness and then she disappeared back into the crowd. Soon, her chair was full of flowers and other small gifts bestowed upon her by her people. Hatshepsut doubted that Iahotep had fared so well. She glanced over at him and could not keep a satisfied smirk from turning up the corners of her lips.
Had the procession always been so slow or was it moving at a snail's pace because more people than usual had turned out to see their new Pharaoh? He was one of them, after all, a commoner who had risen to the title and position of King of Kings. Today he would take the part in the reenactment of the coronation ceremony, though he had only been crowned two months ago.
That role had traditionally been hers, and Hatshepsut remembered well the fright of those early years, which had been replaced by excitement and pride when she realized what the ceremony meant. Last year had been special because she was finally considered an adult and able to rule in her own right until she was wed. It had been a momentous occasion and she had truly felt blessed by the gods.
How would Iahotep handle it, she wondered? Would he consider it an honor or a chore? If he wanted to be popular with his people, he would be respectful and humble, but she really couldn't see him toning down that arrogant entitlement that so irritated her. Well and so. If he angered the population, they would just adore her more.
Her reverie was interrupted by a group of musicians who pushed to the front of the crowd, keeping pace beside her sedan chair and serenading her with a beautiful tune. Hatshepsut smiled at them, tapping one small foot in time with their music. The stoic bearers didn't falter, keeping up with the rest of the procession. When the musicians had finished playing for her, she applauded enthusiastically as they bowed to her.
Some children took their place, running beside the chair just to get a glimpse of their queen. One little girl held up a bouquet of flowers and Hatshepsut reached down to take it from her, thanking her for the gift. The child's face lit up with happiness and then she disappeared back into the crowd. Soon, her chair was full of flowers and other small gifts bestowed upon her by her people. Hatshepsut doubted that Iahotep had fared so well. She glanced over at him and could not keep a satisfied smirk from turning up the corners of her lips.
While she may want to play and have fun at all times, Kreios was more eager to not enrage or piss off any Egyptians while they were here, for fear of not being able to arrive back at the Azazel at all. Always respectful of another land's culture, he was wary of all that was said and done, especially when such an event was taking place right in front of their eyes. The man showed no reaction when Neena muttered in a tone that was clearly unhappy with his reprimand, and merely watched as she settled down and watched the proceedings, before he turned to their Egyptian companion who had joined them.
His eyes sparked interest athe tidbit of information offered, always curious when it came to the Egyptian lore. Grecian stories had been told to him since he was a babe, but Egyptian God's and their stories were a whole different matter. Kreios had heard of Amun, Mut and Khonsu before, but never had he seen a procession celevrating their life. From a distance, the man could even see who he could only assume was the Pharoah and his Queen on a ceremoniously decorated litter carrying the two royal couple outfitted in the appropriate wig, jewelry and outfit. There was no mistaking their status, not when they rivalled the sun in terms of being bright.
Turning with a smooth smile when the Egyptian tried his name on her tongue, Kreios nodded, and then raised a brow. A good time? Well, he really shouldn't be surprised then. The people of Egypt seemed to always concentrate on what they called 'having a good time'. The last time he had decided to accept an invitation of one of his acquaintences to what he declared to be a party, there had been so much debauchery taking place, they put the temple of Aprhodite to shame. Not that the dark-haired merchant minded...but he didn't partake in such vices all the time, of course.
"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you Sirdsett Berenike." he replied in coptic, while not perfect, was completely understandable. Next to him, Typhon's ears picked up when the young lady spoke to him in a low voice. He was not a dog who easily went with strangers, but while his tail did not wag, neither did his eyes waver from the woman as she greeted him. "His name is Typhon-" he started, but was distracted midway through his sentence when he suddenly heard loud cries and laughter. By the time Kreios looked up, his eyes was quick to catch the young lady who was supposed to be his... well, cargo, for lack of a better word, performing for all like she was the hired performer.
Still, coin was being tossed at her feet, so while Kreios initially wanted to go after her, he ended up settling back on his heels, a raised brow look at the Bedoan young lady whilst she garnered more attention from around. "So, what sort of a 'good time' does one have at the end of this procession, Sirdsett?" he addressed, briefly allowing his gaze to flicker to the Egyptian, noting how Typhon was curiously sniffing at her, before turning his attention back to Neena's ad-hoc performance, that was simulataneously happening whilst other's ran up to offer the Queen and her Pharoah gifts and flowers, all part of the ceremony, Kreios concluded.
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While she may want to play and have fun at all times, Kreios was more eager to not enrage or piss off any Egyptians while they were here, for fear of not being able to arrive back at the Azazel at all. Always respectful of another land's culture, he was wary of all that was said and done, especially when such an event was taking place right in front of their eyes. The man showed no reaction when Neena muttered in a tone that was clearly unhappy with his reprimand, and merely watched as she settled down and watched the proceedings, before he turned to their Egyptian companion who had joined them.
His eyes sparked interest athe tidbit of information offered, always curious when it came to the Egyptian lore. Grecian stories had been told to him since he was a babe, but Egyptian God's and their stories were a whole different matter. Kreios had heard of Amun, Mut and Khonsu before, but never had he seen a procession celevrating their life. From a distance, the man could even see who he could only assume was the Pharoah and his Queen on a ceremoniously decorated litter carrying the two royal couple outfitted in the appropriate wig, jewelry and outfit. There was no mistaking their status, not when they rivalled the sun in terms of being bright.
Turning with a smooth smile when the Egyptian tried his name on her tongue, Kreios nodded, and then raised a brow. A good time? Well, he really shouldn't be surprised then. The people of Egypt seemed to always concentrate on what they called 'having a good time'. The last time he had decided to accept an invitation of one of his acquaintences to what he declared to be a party, there had been so much debauchery taking place, they put the temple of Aprhodite to shame. Not that the dark-haired merchant minded...but he didn't partake in such vices all the time, of course.
"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you Sirdsett Berenike." he replied in coptic, while not perfect, was completely understandable. Next to him, Typhon's ears picked up when the young lady spoke to him in a low voice. He was not a dog who easily went with strangers, but while his tail did not wag, neither did his eyes waver from the woman as she greeted him. "His name is Typhon-" he started, but was distracted midway through his sentence when he suddenly heard loud cries and laughter. By the time Kreios looked up, his eyes was quick to catch the young lady who was supposed to be his... well, cargo, for lack of a better word, performing for all like she was the hired performer.
Still, coin was being tossed at her feet, so while Kreios initially wanted to go after her, he ended up settling back on his heels, a raised brow look at the Bedoan young lady whilst she garnered more attention from around. "So, what sort of a 'good time' does one have at the end of this procession, Sirdsett?" he addressed, briefly allowing his gaze to flicker to the Egyptian, noting how Typhon was curiously sniffing at her, before turning his attention back to Neena's ad-hoc performance, that was simulataneously happening whilst other's ran up to offer the Queen and her Pharoah gifts and flowers, all part of the ceremony, Kreios concluded.
While she may want to play and have fun at all times, Kreios was more eager to not enrage or piss off any Egyptians while they were here, for fear of not being able to arrive back at the Azazel at all. Always respectful of another land's culture, he was wary of all that was said and done, especially when such an event was taking place right in front of their eyes. The man showed no reaction when Neena muttered in a tone that was clearly unhappy with his reprimand, and merely watched as she settled down and watched the proceedings, before he turned to their Egyptian companion who had joined them.
His eyes sparked interest athe tidbit of information offered, always curious when it came to the Egyptian lore. Grecian stories had been told to him since he was a babe, but Egyptian God's and their stories were a whole different matter. Kreios had heard of Amun, Mut and Khonsu before, but never had he seen a procession celevrating their life. From a distance, the man could even see who he could only assume was the Pharoah and his Queen on a ceremoniously decorated litter carrying the two royal couple outfitted in the appropriate wig, jewelry and outfit. There was no mistaking their status, not when they rivalled the sun in terms of being bright.
Turning with a smooth smile when the Egyptian tried his name on her tongue, Kreios nodded, and then raised a brow. A good time? Well, he really shouldn't be surprised then. The people of Egypt seemed to always concentrate on what they called 'having a good time'. The last time he had decided to accept an invitation of one of his acquaintences to what he declared to be a party, there had been so much debauchery taking place, they put the temple of Aprhodite to shame. Not that the dark-haired merchant minded...but he didn't partake in such vices all the time, of course.
"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you Sirdsett Berenike." he replied in coptic, while not perfect, was completely understandable. Next to him, Typhon's ears picked up when the young lady spoke to him in a low voice. He was not a dog who easily went with strangers, but while his tail did not wag, neither did his eyes waver from the woman as she greeted him. "His name is Typhon-" he started, but was distracted midway through his sentence when he suddenly heard loud cries and laughter. By the time Kreios looked up, his eyes was quick to catch the young lady who was supposed to be his... well, cargo, for lack of a better word, performing for all like she was the hired performer.
Still, coin was being tossed at her feet, so while Kreios initially wanted to go after her, he ended up settling back on his heels, a raised brow look at the Bedoan young lady whilst she garnered more attention from around. "So, what sort of a 'good time' does one have at the end of this procession, Sirdsett?" he addressed, briefly allowing his gaze to flicker to the Egyptian, noting how Typhon was curiously sniffing at her, before turning his attention back to Neena's ad-hoc performance, that was simulataneously happening whilst other's ran up to offer the Queen and her Pharoah gifts and flowers, all part of the ceremony, Kreios concluded.
Curveball The Beautiful Feast
All is happy and cheerful as the crowds move steadily throughout the streets headed for the temples of prayer in order to celebrate the great Gods of their world. But one voice cries out, followed by several irritated grumbles and a few shouts as people are shoved and pushed from the path of a single thief. He runs with agility and the speed of a desperate boy - no more than perhaps fourteen years of age - speeding down the street and shoving people out of the way. His clothes are ragged, his face dirty, and in his hands is the embroidered and glittering satchel that could only belong to a rich and powerful woman. The word "Thief!" is repeated by multiple calls, urging those in the crowds to stop the boy in his path, by fair means or foul.
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Staff Team
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All is happy and cheerful as the crowds move steadily throughout the streets headed for the temples of prayer in order to celebrate the great Gods of their world. But one voice cries out, followed by several irritated grumbles and a few shouts as people are shoved and pushed from the path of a single thief. He runs with agility and the speed of a desperate boy - no more than perhaps fourteen years of age - speeding down the street and shoving people out of the way. His clothes are ragged, his face dirty, and in his hands is the embroidered and glittering satchel that could only belong to a rich and powerful woman. The word "Thief!" is repeated by multiple calls, urging those in the crowds to stop the boy in his path, by fair means or foul.
Curveball The Beautiful Feast
All is happy and cheerful as the crowds move steadily throughout the streets headed for the temples of prayer in order to celebrate the great Gods of their world. But one voice cries out, followed by several irritated grumbles and a few shouts as people are shoved and pushed from the path of a single thief. He runs with agility and the speed of a desperate boy - no more than perhaps fourteen years of age - speeding down the street and shoving people out of the way. His clothes are ragged, his face dirty, and in his hands is the embroidered and glittering satchel that could only belong to a rich and powerful woman. The word "Thief!" is repeated by multiple calls, urging those in the crowds to stop the boy in his path, by fair means or foul.
Akhenaten wasn’t usually one to come to these sorts of festivals, simply because he just didn’t care. He worshipped the gods, sure, every Egyptian did to some degree, he just couldn’t be bothered to participate in every single ceremony or festival or celebration for every god. He would have no time for anything else if he did.
Yet there he was, standing at the edges of the crowd, well away from any commoners who might brush up against him or something worse. He wasn’t a fan of gathered crowds of sweaty people all smushed together. If he was being forced to be there because of his new-found title as heir to the Hei, he was at least going to be there in a way that was sort of comfortable for him. He stood there, naked from the waist up, with a simple white shendyt that hung just past his knees, and some simple gold jewelry with a few Lapis Lazuli to decorate the simple jewelry. He didn’t want to give anyone a reason to rob him or something along those lines, with so many commoners milling about.
His slaves stood with him, three that he had brought along to tend to his needs. One stood with him, creating a gentle breeze with a fan to keep him cool in the summer heat, another stood waiting, a wine pitcher ready to refill his cup should he need it, and the third waited as well, with no direct job. He was a new slave, one who had yet to really taste Akhenaten’s wrath at having things done wrong.
He suddenly heard the shouts of thief, and saw people begin to try and chase after the thief through the crowds, though the boy seemed to be faster and better at cutting through a crowd than anyone in attendance.
Hena himself was far from chasing a petty thief down or chasing anyone down for that matter. He didn’t run.
But he turned to his male slave, raising an eyebrow at him in question. The young man looked absolutely confused, unsure of what Hena expected of him. He could see the terror in his eyes, and Akhenaten loved every second of it.
“Well, go and stop him, then.” He said, as if it had been the most obvious thing that he should chase down the thief. The man nodded, quickly moving to try and make his way through the crowd and towards the young boy who had stolen water ever it was. Hena was pleasantly surprised at his slave’s speed, he worked his way through the crowd quickly and managed to tackle the escaping thief, knocking him to the ground, he pinned the young boy down and Hena began to walk towards him, leaving his other two slaves where he stood.
He pushed his way through the crowd and to the boy-thief, looking down at him for a moment, he shook his head before looking up at the crowd.
“Now, who has this fool stolen from? I would like to see the item returned to it’s proper owner.” He said, raising his voice so he could be heard as he looked around for who might have been pickpocketed by the boy.
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Akhenaten wasn’t usually one to come to these sorts of festivals, simply because he just didn’t care. He worshipped the gods, sure, every Egyptian did to some degree, he just couldn’t be bothered to participate in every single ceremony or festival or celebration for every god. He would have no time for anything else if he did.
Yet there he was, standing at the edges of the crowd, well away from any commoners who might brush up against him or something worse. He wasn’t a fan of gathered crowds of sweaty people all smushed together. If he was being forced to be there because of his new-found title as heir to the Hei, he was at least going to be there in a way that was sort of comfortable for him. He stood there, naked from the waist up, with a simple white shendyt that hung just past his knees, and some simple gold jewelry with a few Lapis Lazuli to decorate the simple jewelry. He didn’t want to give anyone a reason to rob him or something along those lines, with so many commoners milling about.
His slaves stood with him, three that he had brought along to tend to his needs. One stood with him, creating a gentle breeze with a fan to keep him cool in the summer heat, another stood waiting, a wine pitcher ready to refill his cup should he need it, and the third waited as well, with no direct job. He was a new slave, one who had yet to really taste Akhenaten’s wrath at having things done wrong.
He suddenly heard the shouts of thief, and saw people begin to try and chase after the thief through the crowds, though the boy seemed to be faster and better at cutting through a crowd than anyone in attendance.
Hena himself was far from chasing a petty thief down or chasing anyone down for that matter. He didn’t run.
But he turned to his male slave, raising an eyebrow at him in question. The young man looked absolutely confused, unsure of what Hena expected of him. He could see the terror in his eyes, and Akhenaten loved every second of it.
“Well, go and stop him, then.” He said, as if it had been the most obvious thing that he should chase down the thief. The man nodded, quickly moving to try and make his way through the crowd and towards the young boy who had stolen water ever it was. Hena was pleasantly surprised at his slave’s speed, he worked his way through the crowd quickly and managed to tackle the escaping thief, knocking him to the ground, he pinned the young boy down and Hena began to walk towards him, leaving his other two slaves where he stood.
He pushed his way through the crowd and to the boy-thief, looking down at him for a moment, he shook his head before looking up at the crowd.
“Now, who has this fool stolen from? I would like to see the item returned to it’s proper owner.” He said, raising his voice so he could be heard as he looked around for who might have been pickpocketed by the boy.
Akhenaten wasn’t usually one to come to these sorts of festivals, simply because he just didn’t care. He worshipped the gods, sure, every Egyptian did to some degree, he just couldn’t be bothered to participate in every single ceremony or festival or celebration for every god. He would have no time for anything else if he did.
Yet there he was, standing at the edges of the crowd, well away from any commoners who might brush up against him or something worse. He wasn’t a fan of gathered crowds of sweaty people all smushed together. If he was being forced to be there because of his new-found title as heir to the Hei, he was at least going to be there in a way that was sort of comfortable for him. He stood there, naked from the waist up, with a simple white shendyt that hung just past his knees, and some simple gold jewelry with a few Lapis Lazuli to decorate the simple jewelry. He didn’t want to give anyone a reason to rob him or something along those lines, with so many commoners milling about.
His slaves stood with him, three that he had brought along to tend to his needs. One stood with him, creating a gentle breeze with a fan to keep him cool in the summer heat, another stood waiting, a wine pitcher ready to refill his cup should he need it, and the third waited as well, with no direct job. He was a new slave, one who had yet to really taste Akhenaten’s wrath at having things done wrong.
He suddenly heard the shouts of thief, and saw people begin to try and chase after the thief through the crowds, though the boy seemed to be faster and better at cutting through a crowd than anyone in attendance.
Hena himself was far from chasing a petty thief down or chasing anyone down for that matter. He didn’t run.
But he turned to his male slave, raising an eyebrow at him in question. The young man looked absolutely confused, unsure of what Hena expected of him. He could see the terror in his eyes, and Akhenaten loved every second of it.
“Well, go and stop him, then.” He said, as if it had been the most obvious thing that he should chase down the thief. The man nodded, quickly moving to try and make his way through the crowd and towards the young boy who had stolen water ever it was. Hena was pleasantly surprised at his slave’s speed, he worked his way through the crowd quickly and managed to tackle the escaping thief, knocking him to the ground, he pinned the young boy down and Hena began to walk towards him, leaving his other two slaves where he stood.
He pushed his way through the crowd and to the boy-thief, looking down at him for a moment, he shook his head before looking up at the crowd.
“Now, who has this fool stolen from? I would like to see the item returned to it’s proper owner.” He said, raising his voice so he could be heard as he looked around for who might have been pickpocketed by the boy.
For such a formal occasion, the Pharaoh must look his best, both in his own person and in the accoutrements that surrounded him. His wife was regal and well-dressed, his litter glittering gold between the flawlessly painted decorations, his slaves likewise. She had spent most of the day before preparing herself for the procession rather than personally attending to her master's comfort; wearing one's own hair rather than a wig meant that braiding a hundred lapis and golden beads into it had to be done each time she was to wear them, rather than once well in advance and set aside at the end of the day to be re-used another time. It took hours, even trading off with another girl to do the back of each other's heads to save time and ensure it was done properly. Henna had to be applied and left to set during which time she must do nothing to risk smudging it. Cosmetics must be done the morning of, but so must the royals', and luckily she'd been able to foist off helping the Pharaoh onto someone else. A great honor, getting to touch the king of kings' own body - and to suffer the wrath of his displeasure for any error. She was certainly not going to risk rushing both her own and his as well if she had any other options. Getting dressed in matching kalisaris thin enough to be practically transparent, tied at the waist with her breasts bare, and the piles of gold and lapis jewerly carefully chosen to highlight the extreme wealth of the royal couple yet not outshine anyone they shouldn't took the girls relatively no time at all, which left them all ready to go just in time, waiting exactly where they should be when the Pharaoh's eyes first set upon them. Not that he paid any of them any heed at all, which was exactly how everyone liked it.
Walking just behind the royal litters holding the tall fan that kept the sun from the pharaoh's eyes, she was careful to keep exactly the right distance back and the pool of shade precisely where it belonged. Her eyes occasionally moved to track some disturbance or swirl of movement in the crowd, but none of that was her concern. She did not expect to suddenly need to get out of a guard's way, but she still remained aware of her surroundings even if she didn't react to anything.
She kept an eye on the queen, as well, curious about the woman who was technically her new mistress for all that she'd so far been ignored from that quarter. Hatshepsut had all her own slaves, and every reason to ignore her husband's concubines and few to acknowledge their existence, but if her eyes did ever fall on her, Tahena wanted to already have the measure of her. She knew some things already, between her husband's complaints and the other slaves' gossip, although the queen's personal slaves hardly ever talked to her. So far, the picture she had of the woman was fairly consistent, though her own experiences made her take the lack of complaining with more than a grain of salt. To be fair, she rarely complained about her master, either - though the care with which she spoke rare compliments doubtless said much.
The cheerful innocence with which various children ran up to give their tokens of affection to the royal couple brought a slight smile to Tahena's lips despite the concentration with which she attended to her job. She didn't remember ever having been a cheerful child, but it was nice to see others who were.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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For such a formal occasion, the Pharaoh must look his best, both in his own person and in the accoutrements that surrounded him. His wife was regal and well-dressed, his litter glittering gold between the flawlessly painted decorations, his slaves likewise. She had spent most of the day before preparing herself for the procession rather than personally attending to her master's comfort; wearing one's own hair rather than a wig meant that braiding a hundred lapis and golden beads into it had to be done each time she was to wear them, rather than once well in advance and set aside at the end of the day to be re-used another time. It took hours, even trading off with another girl to do the back of each other's heads to save time and ensure it was done properly. Henna had to be applied and left to set during which time she must do nothing to risk smudging it. Cosmetics must be done the morning of, but so must the royals', and luckily she'd been able to foist off helping the Pharaoh onto someone else. A great honor, getting to touch the king of kings' own body - and to suffer the wrath of his displeasure for any error. She was certainly not going to risk rushing both her own and his as well if she had any other options. Getting dressed in matching kalisaris thin enough to be practically transparent, tied at the waist with her breasts bare, and the piles of gold and lapis jewerly carefully chosen to highlight the extreme wealth of the royal couple yet not outshine anyone they shouldn't took the girls relatively no time at all, which left them all ready to go just in time, waiting exactly where they should be when the Pharaoh's eyes first set upon them. Not that he paid any of them any heed at all, which was exactly how everyone liked it.
Walking just behind the royal litters holding the tall fan that kept the sun from the pharaoh's eyes, she was careful to keep exactly the right distance back and the pool of shade precisely where it belonged. Her eyes occasionally moved to track some disturbance or swirl of movement in the crowd, but none of that was her concern. She did not expect to suddenly need to get out of a guard's way, but she still remained aware of her surroundings even if she didn't react to anything.
She kept an eye on the queen, as well, curious about the woman who was technically her new mistress for all that she'd so far been ignored from that quarter. Hatshepsut had all her own slaves, and every reason to ignore her husband's concubines and few to acknowledge their existence, but if her eyes did ever fall on her, Tahena wanted to already have the measure of her. She knew some things already, between her husband's complaints and the other slaves' gossip, although the queen's personal slaves hardly ever talked to her. So far, the picture she had of the woman was fairly consistent, though her own experiences made her take the lack of complaining with more than a grain of salt. To be fair, she rarely complained about her master, either - though the care with which she spoke rare compliments doubtless said much.
The cheerful innocence with which various children ran up to give their tokens of affection to the royal couple brought a slight smile to Tahena's lips despite the concentration with which she attended to her job. She didn't remember ever having been a cheerful child, but it was nice to see others who were.
For such a formal occasion, the Pharaoh must look his best, both in his own person and in the accoutrements that surrounded him. His wife was regal and well-dressed, his litter glittering gold between the flawlessly painted decorations, his slaves likewise. She had spent most of the day before preparing herself for the procession rather than personally attending to her master's comfort; wearing one's own hair rather than a wig meant that braiding a hundred lapis and golden beads into it had to be done each time she was to wear them, rather than once well in advance and set aside at the end of the day to be re-used another time. It took hours, even trading off with another girl to do the back of each other's heads to save time and ensure it was done properly. Henna had to be applied and left to set during which time she must do nothing to risk smudging it. Cosmetics must be done the morning of, but so must the royals', and luckily she'd been able to foist off helping the Pharaoh onto someone else. A great honor, getting to touch the king of kings' own body - and to suffer the wrath of his displeasure for any error. She was certainly not going to risk rushing both her own and his as well if she had any other options. Getting dressed in matching kalisaris thin enough to be practically transparent, tied at the waist with her breasts bare, and the piles of gold and lapis jewerly carefully chosen to highlight the extreme wealth of the royal couple yet not outshine anyone they shouldn't took the girls relatively no time at all, which left them all ready to go just in time, waiting exactly where they should be when the Pharaoh's eyes first set upon them. Not that he paid any of them any heed at all, which was exactly how everyone liked it.
Walking just behind the royal litters holding the tall fan that kept the sun from the pharaoh's eyes, she was careful to keep exactly the right distance back and the pool of shade precisely where it belonged. Her eyes occasionally moved to track some disturbance or swirl of movement in the crowd, but none of that was her concern. She did not expect to suddenly need to get out of a guard's way, but she still remained aware of her surroundings even if she didn't react to anything.
She kept an eye on the queen, as well, curious about the woman who was technically her new mistress for all that she'd so far been ignored from that quarter. Hatshepsut had all her own slaves, and every reason to ignore her husband's concubines and few to acknowledge their existence, but if her eyes did ever fall on her, Tahena wanted to already have the measure of her. She knew some things already, between her husband's complaints and the other slaves' gossip, although the queen's personal slaves hardly ever talked to her. So far, the picture she had of the woman was fairly consistent, though her own experiences made her take the lack of complaining with more than a grain of salt. To be fair, she rarely complained about her master, either - though the care with which she spoke rare compliments doubtless said much.
The cheerful innocence with which various children ran up to give their tokens of affection to the royal couple brought a slight smile to Tahena's lips despite the concentration with which she attended to her job. She didn't remember ever having been a cheerful child, but it was nice to see others who were.