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The sun had been free of the horizon for no more than a half hour when Neena approached the great and impressive structure dedicated to the Goddess of Hathor. The sunlight seemed at its most powerful, shooting through the structures of Thebes like a spear; shafts of burnt umber and gold, staining the beige clay blood red. Neena was, for a moment, paused in her steps as she considered the power of the morning. It was winter now, and the nights had become much colder. It was amazing how in so short a time the sun could scare away the chill, replacing it with a baking hot utopia.
The power of the heavens, huh?
Turning her attention back to the structure before her, Neena observed the towering structure before her. White marble and carved and etched in intricate detail over every surface, she felt the need to stop and witness its beauty. Her mind went to the people who had made it and the dedication required, under the baking sun, to complete the work. She moved up a few more steps, approaching the first swatch of beautiful silks that hung from the columns and looped to brush the ground in graceful curves. The curtains hung still at this time of the morning, undisturbed by the breeze that might start up later in the day.
At the doors to the temple, she was forced to remove her shoes, but instead of letting them go - when one had so little, you tended to hold onto the minimal items you called your own - Neena held the thongs by their straps and wandered into the structure bare footed.
Dressed in a simple tunic of soft cotton dyed a light yellow and cinched at the waist with several wrappings of brown leather, Neena wrapped her cloak closer. It had been her latest acquisition - simple, charcoal grey and a gift from a man who she had helped out on his market stall for three days in order to earn it. It had been a harsh deal perhaps but with winter coming she had needed some kind of covering for the nights. The days would be hot as sin as normal but during the twilight and dark hours, winter on the continent was cold.
The inside of the temple was as impressive as its exterior. The carved columns that surrounded the large, rectangular building, continued on the inside in alternation to their brothers out. It made it almost impossible to see in from the street or out from the belly of the structure, despite no actual walls being in place. Before the decorative pillars were the statues of the Gods. Whilst the temple was dedicated to Hathor specifically, it was considered almost rude not to offer at least a token of respect to the others of the Kemetic pantheon. Small plinths held bronze statues of each God in question and, despite the early hour, several of the devout had attended upon them to offer flowers, fruits or the occasional pot and ceramic; tokens and tributes in exchange for good fortune and consideration from the divine.
Neena had no issues with those who believed in a great beyond and powerful, omniscient beings. She didn't personally believe that they existed and the fact that she had yet to be smote for her ideas was a sort of confirmation to her of their truth. But she understood that religion and belief were important to many. Gave guidance and shape to their lives. Who was she to try and take that away?
But... given that there wasn't really any such thing (as far as she was concerned) as a divine God... and therefore no-one to receive such tributes at the foot of each statue... There wasn't really any harm in re-purposing them, now was there?
Neena worked for her money and her food. She believed in fair exchange. She was rarely a thief and only then in times of great need or opportunity and only then, again, from those who could afford it and wouldn't miss that which was taken.
Such as a being who didn't exist.
Ignoring the main statue of Hathor - a great statue the height of several men on top of one another, built of white marble and detailed in gold - Neena knew such a centrepiece of the temple was too greatly watched or considered. Instead, she headed for one of the small statues. This one dedicated to the god of Ra, and stood before the piece nonchalantly. She clasped her hands before her, her sandals hanging before her knees, and then bowed her head low as others would do both before and after her.
In doing so, she spotted a clementine at the foot of the statue.
Damnit but she was hungry...
With a calm bow, designed to not draw attention, Neena offered her forehead to the base of the statue in perhaps an unconventional but not alarming form of respect.
She then opened her mouth and grabbed the clementine, taking it all inside her mouth, her cheeks puffing a little and stood back up without issue.
To complete the act, she bowed a few more times, pulled her cloak up over her head to mask her expanded profile, and headed quickly but calmly towards the front entrance once more. Once clear, she would spit out the fruit, peel it and enjoy her first taste of citrus in two months.
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May 20, 2019 13:33:06 GMT
Posted In If Needs Must on May 20, 2019 13:33:06 GMT
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The sun had been free of the horizon for no more than a half hour when Neena approached the great and impressive structure dedicated to the Goddess of Hathor. The sunlight seemed at its most powerful, shooting through the structures of Thebes like a spear; shafts of burnt umber and gold, staining the beige clay blood red. Neena was, for a moment, paused in her steps as she considered the power of the morning. It was winter now, and the nights had become much colder. It was amazing how in so short a time the sun could scare away the chill, replacing it with a baking hot utopia.
The power of the heavens, huh?
Turning her attention back to the structure before her, Neena observed the towering structure before her. White marble and carved and etched in intricate detail over every surface, she felt the need to stop and witness its beauty. Her mind went to the people who had made it and the dedication required, under the baking sun, to complete the work. She moved up a few more steps, approaching the first swatch of beautiful silks that hung from the columns and looped to brush the ground in graceful curves. The curtains hung still at this time of the morning, undisturbed by the breeze that might start up later in the day.
At the doors to the temple, she was forced to remove her shoes, but instead of letting them go - when one had so little, you tended to hold onto the minimal items you called your own - Neena held the thongs by their straps and wandered into the structure bare footed.
Dressed in a simple tunic of soft cotton dyed a light yellow and cinched at the waist with several wrappings of brown leather, Neena wrapped her cloak closer. It had been her latest acquisition - simple, charcoal grey and a gift from a man who she had helped out on his market stall for three days in order to earn it. It had been a harsh deal perhaps but with winter coming she had needed some kind of covering for the nights. The days would be hot as sin as normal but during the twilight and dark hours, winter on the continent was cold.
The inside of the temple was as impressive as its exterior. The carved columns that surrounded the large, rectangular building, continued on the inside in alternation to their brothers out. It made it almost impossible to see in from the street or out from the belly of the structure, despite no actual walls being in place. Before the decorative pillars were the statues of the Gods. Whilst the temple was dedicated to Hathor specifically, it was considered almost rude not to offer at least a token of respect to the others of the Kemetic pantheon. Small plinths held bronze statues of each God in question and, despite the early hour, several of the devout had attended upon them to offer flowers, fruits or the occasional pot and ceramic; tokens and tributes in exchange for good fortune and consideration from the divine.
Neena had no issues with those who believed in a great beyond and powerful, omniscient beings. She didn't personally believe that they existed and the fact that she had yet to be smote for her ideas was a sort of confirmation to her of their truth. But she understood that religion and belief were important to many. Gave guidance and shape to their lives. Who was she to try and take that away?
But... given that there wasn't really any such thing (as far as she was concerned) as a divine God... and therefore no-one to receive such tributes at the foot of each statue... There wasn't really any harm in re-purposing them, now was there?
Neena worked for her money and her food. She believed in fair exchange. She was rarely a thief and only then in times of great need or opportunity and only then, again, from those who could afford it and wouldn't miss that which was taken.
Such as a being who didn't exist.
Ignoring the main statue of Hathor - a great statue the height of several men on top of one another, built of white marble and detailed in gold - Neena knew such a centrepiece of the temple was too greatly watched or considered. Instead, she headed for one of the small statues. This one dedicated to the god of Ra, and stood before the piece nonchalantly. She clasped her hands before her, her sandals hanging before her knees, and then bowed her head low as others would do both before and after her.
In doing so, she spotted a clementine at the foot of the statue.
Damnit but she was hungry...
With a calm bow, designed to not draw attention, Neena offered her forehead to the base of the statue in perhaps an unconventional but not alarming form of respect.
She then opened her mouth and grabbed the clementine, taking it all inside her mouth, her cheeks puffing a little and stood back up without issue.
To complete the act, she bowed a few more times, pulled her cloak up over her head to mask her expanded profile, and headed quickly but calmly towards the front entrance once more. Once clear, she would spit out the fruit, peel it and enjoy her first taste of citrus in two months.
The sun had been free of the horizon for no more than a half hour when Neena approached the great and impressive structure dedicated to the Goddess of Hathor. The sunlight seemed at its most powerful, shooting through the structures of Thebes like a spear; shafts of burnt umber and gold, staining the beige clay blood red. Neena was, for a moment, paused in her steps as she considered the power of the morning. It was winter now, and the nights had become much colder. It was amazing how in so short a time the sun could scare away the chill, replacing it with a baking hot utopia.
The power of the heavens, huh?
Turning her attention back to the structure before her, Neena observed the towering structure before her. White marble and carved and etched in intricate detail over every surface, she felt the need to stop and witness its beauty. Her mind went to the people who had made it and the dedication required, under the baking sun, to complete the work. She moved up a few more steps, approaching the first swatch of beautiful silks that hung from the columns and looped to brush the ground in graceful curves. The curtains hung still at this time of the morning, undisturbed by the breeze that might start up later in the day.
At the doors to the temple, she was forced to remove her shoes, but instead of letting them go - when one had so little, you tended to hold onto the minimal items you called your own - Neena held the thongs by their straps and wandered into the structure bare footed.
Dressed in a simple tunic of soft cotton dyed a light yellow and cinched at the waist with several wrappings of brown leather, Neena wrapped her cloak closer. It had been her latest acquisition - simple, charcoal grey and a gift from a man who she had helped out on his market stall for three days in order to earn it. It had been a harsh deal perhaps but with winter coming she had needed some kind of covering for the nights. The days would be hot as sin as normal but during the twilight and dark hours, winter on the continent was cold.
The inside of the temple was as impressive as its exterior. The carved columns that surrounded the large, rectangular building, continued on the inside in alternation to their brothers out. It made it almost impossible to see in from the street or out from the belly of the structure, despite no actual walls being in place. Before the decorative pillars were the statues of the Gods. Whilst the temple was dedicated to Hathor specifically, it was considered almost rude not to offer at least a token of respect to the others of the Kemetic pantheon. Small plinths held bronze statues of each God in question and, despite the early hour, several of the devout had attended upon them to offer flowers, fruits or the occasional pot and ceramic; tokens and tributes in exchange for good fortune and consideration from the divine.
Neena had no issues with those who believed in a great beyond and powerful, omniscient beings. She didn't personally believe that they existed and the fact that she had yet to be smote for her ideas was a sort of confirmation to her of their truth. But she understood that religion and belief were important to many. Gave guidance and shape to their lives. Who was she to try and take that away?
But... given that there wasn't really any such thing (as far as she was concerned) as a divine God... and therefore no-one to receive such tributes at the foot of each statue... There wasn't really any harm in re-purposing them, now was there?
Neena worked for her money and her food. She believed in fair exchange. She was rarely a thief and only then in times of great need or opportunity and only then, again, from those who could afford it and wouldn't miss that which was taken.
Such as a being who didn't exist.
Ignoring the main statue of Hathor - a great statue the height of several men on top of one another, built of white marble and detailed in gold - Neena knew such a centrepiece of the temple was too greatly watched or considered. Instead, she headed for one of the small statues. This one dedicated to the god of Ra, and stood before the piece nonchalantly. She clasped her hands before her, her sandals hanging before her knees, and then bowed her head low as others would do both before and after her.
In doing so, she spotted a clementine at the foot of the statue.
Damnit but she was hungry...
With a calm bow, designed to not draw attention, Neena offered her forehead to the base of the statue in perhaps an unconventional but not alarming form of respect.
She then opened her mouth and grabbed the clementine, taking it all inside her mouth, her cheeks puffing a little and stood back up without issue.
To complete the act, she bowed a few more times, pulled her cloak up over her head to mask her expanded profile, and headed quickly but calmly towards the front entrance once more. Once clear, she would spit out the fruit, peel it and enjoy her first taste of citrus in two months.
Nafretiri still found watching the worshipers odd even after a little over two years here. It wasn't that she didn't worship, but she preferred to do it in private, not in front of hundreds of eyes. And some of the ways of the worship of Hathor in particular, she still was not brave enough to try, at least not yet. For instance, she worried the poppy would make her forget where she was and bring back awful memories....
Stop! Nafretiri ordered herself. Today is not about that. Today, your job is to count the tokens given in hope.
Hope. What did that feel like? Nafretiri didn't think it had anything to do with whether or not one put a token in front of a statue. Or even praying at all. There were situations that she knew would end well and situations that she knew would end badly, and no amount of pleading changed the outcome.
She'd tried and failed and made her father cry learning that lesson.
How dared one wish for anything again?
Courage, Nafretiri. And you will find it, somehow. Now do... your...job!
Maybe that was the problem. She so rarely visited the world outside the temple- mostly from fear- that today she didn't want to do her job. It may have been Kawwal, and cold at night, but suddenly that orange she'd seen someone put in front of Ra looked so good!
As the lines of worshipers came forward, Nafretiri walked among the statues, noting her findings on a piece of papyrus. As well as the fruit, offerings of pottery and even bread were common. Bread, freshly baked, its earthy, grainy smell permeating the temple, was usually something she had to wait on someone to bring back, but today... today could she exercise a little courage?
How did people dare to wish if not for courage, even the courage to beat against the gates of heaven?
Surely that took more courage than going out to get bread and oranges, but she didn't even have the courage to do that!
Stop beating yourself up! her mind insisted. Or if you can't, at least do it later.
As she wrote, she became a little hotter than usual due to the number of people in her vicinity, and she removed the shawl she occasionally wore for ceremonial purposes. It fell to the ground so fast it was nearly trampled under the feet of the next person to leave a token. As she rose after bending to pick it up, her eye happened to spy an orange missing.
Ra's orange.
Rage bubbled up inside her, more because of the audacity of such a thing than anything else, but she managed to keep her voice level. If someone needed food, she would happily give them some, she would just need an escort first. But before that. she'd need to find the person.
There! Near the entrance! The one whose cheeks looked a little puffed, or so she thought.
"Ma'am? If you need food, I'll gladly help you... but kindly spit it out first, so that we may speak."
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May 20, 2019 13:33:25 GMT
Posted In If Needs Must on May 20, 2019 13:33:25 GMT
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Nafretiri still found watching the worshipers odd even after a little over two years here. It wasn't that she didn't worship, but she preferred to do it in private, not in front of hundreds of eyes. And some of the ways of the worship of Hathor in particular, she still was not brave enough to try, at least not yet. For instance, she worried the poppy would make her forget where she was and bring back awful memories....
Stop! Nafretiri ordered herself. Today is not about that. Today, your job is to count the tokens given in hope.
Hope. What did that feel like? Nafretiri didn't think it had anything to do with whether or not one put a token in front of a statue. Or even praying at all. There were situations that she knew would end well and situations that she knew would end badly, and no amount of pleading changed the outcome.
She'd tried and failed and made her father cry learning that lesson.
How dared one wish for anything again?
Courage, Nafretiri. And you will find it, somehow. Now do... your...job!
Maybe that was the problem. She so rarely visited the world outside the temple- mostly from fear- that today she didn't want to do her job. It may have been Kawwal, and cold at night, but suddenly that orange she'd seen someone put in front of Ra looked so good!
As the lines of worshipers came forward, Nafretiri walked among the statues, noting her findings on a piece of papyrus. As well as the fruit, offerings of pottery and even bread were common. Bread, freshly baked, its earthy, grainy smell permeating the temple, was usually something she had to wait on someone to bring back, but today... today could she exercise a little courage?
How did people dare to wish if not for courage, even the courage to beat against the gates of heaven?
Surely that took more courage than going out to get bread and oranges, but she didn't even have the courage to do that!
Stop beating yourself up! her mind insisted. Or if you can't, at least do it later.
As she wrote, she became a little hotter than usual due to the number of people in her vicinity, and she removed the shawl she occasionally wore for ceremonial purposes. It fell to the ground so fast it was nearly trampled under the feet of the next person to leave a token. As she rose after bending to pick it up, her eye happened to spy an orange missing.
Ra's orange.
Rage bubbled up inside her, more because of the audacity of such a thing than anything else, but she managed to keep her voice level. If someone needed food, she would happily give them some, she would just need an escort first. But before that. she'd need to find the person.
There! Near the entrance! The one whose cheeks looked a little puffed, or so she thought.
"Ma'am? If you need food, I'll gladly help you... but kindly spit it out first, so that we may speak."
Nafretiri still found watching the worshipers odd even after a little over two years here. It wasn't that she didn't worship, but she preferred to do it in private, not in front of hundreds of eyes. And some of the ways of the worship of Hathor in particular, she still was not brave enough to try, at least not yet. For instance, she worried the poppy would make her forget where she was and bring back awful memories....
Stop! Nafretiri ordered herself. Today is not about that. Today, your job is to count the tokens given in hope.
Hope. What did that feel like? Nafretiri didn't think it had anything to do with whether or not one put a token in front of a statue. Or even praying at all. There were situations that she knew would end well and situations that she knew would end badly, and no amount of pleading changed the outcome.
She'd tried and failed and made her father cry learning that lesson.
How dared one wish for anything again?
Courage, Nafretiri. And you will find it, somehow. Now do... your...job!
Maybe that was the problem. She so rarely visited the world outside the temple- mostly from fear- that today she didn't want to do her job. It may have been Kawwal, and cold at night, but suddenly that orange she'd seen someone put in front of Ra looked so good!
As the lines of worshipers came forward, Nafretiri walked among the statues, noting her findings on a piece of papyrus. As well as the fruit, offerings of pottery and even bread were common. Bread, freshly baked, its earthy, grainy smell permeating the temple, was usually something she had to wait on someone to bring back, but today... today could she exercise a little courage?
How did people dare to wish if not for courage, even the courage to beat against the gates of heaven?
Surely that took more courage than going out to get bread and oranges, but she didn't even have the courage to do that!
Stop beating yourself up! her mind insisted. Or if you can't, at least do it later.
As she wrote, she became a little hotter than usual due to the number of people in her vicinity, and she removed the shawl she occasionally wore for ceremonial purposes. It fell to the ground so fast it was nearly trampled under the feet of the next person to leave a token. As she rose after bending to pick it up, her eye happened to spy an orange missing.
Ra's orange.
Rage bubbled up inside her, more because of the audacity of such a thing than anything else, but she managed to keep her voice level. If someone needed food, she would happily give them some, she would just need an escort first. But before that. she'd need to find the person.
There! Near the entrance! The one whose cheeks looked a little puffed, or so she thought.
"Ma'am? If you need food, I'll gladly help you... but kindly spit it out first, so that we may speak."
Neena's feet came to a firm and unyielding stop as the voice called back to her. A moment of terror ripped through her, for the last time she had been caught stealing she had been sold back into slavery. The only thing that halted the temptation to make an immediate break for it was that the voice speaking was both low (ergo not to attract attention from others) and female (most women, Neena could outrun or outlast without little effort). A male voice behind her, a shout or a command, would have resulted in a burst of speed that Neena was not naturally adept in, propelled by fear and the determination to never be enslaved again.
Instead, however, the voice was assertive in words but soft in tone and had Neena turning slowly to meet her accuser.
Tempted to speak around the orange, insisting that she didn't know what the woman was talking about in a distorted voice that revealed she did - just for comedy value, the urge to make a joke of the situation disappeared when the young woman before her turned out to be a priestess of the temple.
Great.
In Neena's experience, the priests and priestesses of temples were the worst kinds of people to deal with. Highly devout and ignorant in a way that only ritual and superstitious promises could make someone, Neena had often made friends with people of great faith but had never been able to with people of great religion. In her travels, she had found there to be a key difference between the two. One believed in that which could not be proven. The other chose never to listen to proof nor explore it regardless of belief.
With a glance at the pretty woman who approached her, then at the steady trickle of worshippers who were drifting around them (none of whom were, thankfully, looking their way), Neena made a bit of a noise in the back of her throat to indicate she was participating in the requested action under duress and then subtly spat the clementine back into her hand. She pursed her lips over the fruit so that by the time it landed it her palm it was barely damp.
She twisted her lips in an expression of awkwardness as her lashed flashed upwards and her gaze met the priestess'.
"I'm fine, thank you." She told the woman, despite such assurances making it look like she had stolen for the hell of it, she refused to admit to her hunger or her need for a hand out. She was not a charity case. "I apologise for any insult."
Rubbing the fruit on the inside edge of her cloak, Neena then handed it back over to the girl. She glanced towards the outside world; the sun-drenched city that she had almost escaped into. The sun shone warmly on her shoulder, a reminder of how close she had been to managing the fruit extraction operation. She did not want to be taken for her trespass. If she had to run, she would.
"I meant no insult." She commented, knowing that her words were unlikely to be believed. Priestesses always seemed so narrow-minded, and a clear foreigner stealing from their temple of worship was unlikely to be someone they would take the word of... regardless of her return of the pilfered item.
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May 20, 2019 13:33:45 GMT
Posted In If Needs Must on May 20, 2019 13:33:45 GMT
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Neena's feet came to a firm and unyielding stop as the voice called back to her. A moment of terror ripped through her, for the last time she had been caught stealing she had been sold back into slavery. The only thing that halted the temptation to make an immediate break for it was that the voice speaking was both low (ergo not to attract attention from others) and female (most women, Neena could outrun or outlast without little effort). A male voice behind her, a shout or a command, would have resulted in a burst of speed that Neena was not naturally adept in, propelled by fear and the determination to never be enslaved again.
Instead, however, the voice was assertive in words but soft in tone and had Neena turning slowly to meet her accuser.
Tempted to speak around the orange, insisting that she didn't know what the woman was talking about in a distorted voice that revealed she did - just for comedy value, the urge to make a joke of the situation disappeared when the young woman before her turned out to be a priestess of the temple.
Great.
In Neena's experience, the priests and priestesses of temples were the worst kinds of people to deal with. Highly devout and ignorant in a way that only ritual and superstitious promises could make someone, Neena had often made friends with people of great faith but had never been able to with people of great religion. In her travels, she had found there to be a key difference between the two. One believed in that which could not be proven. The other chose never to listen to proof nor explore it regardless of belief.
With a glance at the pretty woman who approached her, then at the steady trickle of worshippers who were drifting around them (none of whom were, thankfully, looking their way), Neena made a bit of a noise in the back of her throat to indicate she was participating in the requested action under duress and then subtly spat the clementine back into her hand. She pursed her lips over the fruit so that by the time it landed it her palm it was barely damp.
She twisted her lips in an expression of awkwardness as her lashed flashed upwards and her gaze met the priestess'.
"I'm fine, thank you." She told the woman, despite such assurances making it look like she had stolen for the hell of it, she refused to admit to her hunger or her need for a hand out. She was not a charity case. "I apologise for any insult."
Rubbing the fruit on the inside edge of her cloak, Neena then handed it back over to the girl. She glanced towards the outside world; the sun-drenched city that she had almost escaped into. The sun shone warmly on her shoulder, a reminder of how close she had been to managing the fruit extraction operation. She did not want to be taken for her trespass. If she had to run, she would.
"I meant no insult." She commented, knowing that her words were unlikely to be believed. Priestesses always seemed so narrow-minded, and a clear foreigner stealing from their temple of worship was unlikely to be someone they would take the word of... regardless of her return of the pilfered item.
Neena's feet came to a firm and unyielding stop as the voice called back to her. A moment of terror ripped through her, for the last time she had been caught stealing she had been sold back into slavery. The only thing that halted the temptation to make an immediate break for it was that the voice speaking was both low (ergo not to attract attention from others) and female (most women, Neena could outrun or outlast without little effort). A male voice behind her, a shout or a command, would have resulted in a burst of speed that Neena was not naturally adept in, propelled by fear and the determination to never be enslaved again.
Instead, however, the voice was assertive in words but soft in tone and had Neena turning slowly to meet her accuser.
Tempted to speak around the orange, insisting that she didn't know what the woman was talking about in a distorted voice that revealed she did - just for comedy value, the urge to make a joke of the situation disappeared when the young woman before her turned out to be a priestess of the temple.
Great.
In Neena's experience, the priests and priestesses of temples were the worst kinds of people to deal with. Highly devout and ignorant in a way that only ritual and superstitious promises could make someone, Neena had often made friends with people of great faith but had never been able to with people of great religion. In her travels, she had found there to be a key difference between the two. One believed in that which could not be proven. The other chose never to listen to proof nor explore it regardless of belief.
With a glance at the pretty woman who approached her, then at the steady trickle of worshippers who were drifting around them (none of whom were, thankfully, looking their way), Neena made a bit of a noise in the back of her throat to indicate she was participating in the requested action under duress and then subtly spat the clementine back into her hand. She pursed her lips over the fruit so that by the time it landed it her palm it was barely damp.
She twisted her lips in an expression of awkwardness as her lashed flashed upwards and her gaze met the priestess'.
"I'm fine, thank you." She told the woman, despite such assurances making it look like she had stolen for the hell of it, she refused to admit to her hunger or her need for a hand out. She was not a charity case. "I apologise for any insult."
Rubbing the fruit on the inside edge of her cloak, Neena then handed it back over to the girl. She glanced towards the outside world; the sun-drenched city that she had almost escaped into. The sun shone warmly on her shoulder, a reminder of how close she had been to managing the fruit extraction operation. She did not want to be taken for her trespass. If she had to run, she would.
"I meant no insult." She commented, knowing that her words were unlikely to be believed. Priestesses always seemed so narrow-minded, and a clear foreigner stealing from their temple of worship was unlikely to be someone they would take the word of... regardless of her return of the pilfered item.
Nafretiri's heart softened even more when the woman apologized. Although now that she came to think of it, would Ra accept a fruit back that had actually been in someone's mouth? It never occurred to her to question it before, but then, she didn't think she'd been faced with such a situation before.
Something about the apology seemed sincere. As if this woman might be running from someone, too. Not that Nafretiri could always accurately tell people's emotions, but if she had been hungry enough when she was freed, she might have done the same, and that was all that mattered. Knowing that much about herself helped her not to judge others.
"The gods know you didn't mean anything by it, at least I think so. For what it's worth, I know it, too."
She gave the woman a reassuring smile, honestly believing her words were true. But if so, it did beg the question, if the gods provided food for everyone, why did some people seemingly have to go to such lengths?
Because others won't help them. The thought came to her without her seemingly thinking it.
Well she was going to do what she could to break the cycle.
Still, she knew that the other priestesses might not have been so nice about it, regardless of the fact that Nafretiri was one of their own now. Not everybody knew about her past as a slave, only Mother Sekhemu and a few others. Besides that, Nafretiri knew that there were more than a few priests and priestesses who couldn't see past their own noses. But she decided not to point that out. The woman probably knew it already.
Lest she ruin her reputation in front of others or be seen as the most gullible priestess ever, though, she did feel compelled to add a warning, if a gentle one.
"I'm not going to take you in. There may be more to this than I can know. But while my sense tells me you are good, others steal for evil, and neither the gods nor our own senses always tell us which people are which. This is why we watch. Can you understand?" The sun made Nafretiri's shawl sparkle with a silky sheen and gaver Her eyes, at the moment were sympathetic but also confident and still a little curious. She would have liked to talk more. It had been so long since she'd had anyone to talk to for herself and not as part of her occupation.
But just then, an acolyte came in carrying a wailing Aneksi. It wasn't time for her feeding yet, so Nafretiri was concerned.
"She had a fall toddling around as she does."
"Ohhh, sweetie. Let Mama look." She scooped the little girl into her arms.
Thankfully, there was no blood- even Nafretiri had bled once after a fall on the stone floor- but her knee was red and did look like it hurt. There might be a small bruise later. Nafretiri kissed the knee and stroked her little girl's hair back from her face.
It was clear that mother and daughter looked a great deal alike- not exactly so, because Aneksi's eyes were a shade lighter and her skin a couple of shades darker. It was not clear whom she would resemble in other features yet, either, her mother or her biological father. (Her hair, Nafretiri thought, was a mixture of the two.) But one would be able to tell they were related, even now with tears on the little girl's face.
Ever so slightly, while still comforting her daughter, Nafretiri moved closer to the entrance of the temple so as not to disturb those still worshiping.
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May 20, 2019 13:34:13 GMT
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Nafretiri's heart softened even more when the woman apologized. Although now that she came to think of it, would Ra accept a fruit back that had actually been in someone's mouth? It never occurred to her to question it before, but then, she didn't think she'd been faced with such a situation before.
Something about the apology seemed sincere. As if this woman might be running from someone, too. Not that Nafretiri could always accurately tell people's emotions, but if she had been hungry enough when she was freed, she might have done the same, and that was all that mattered. Knowing that much about herself helped her not to judge others.
"The gods know you didn't mean anything by it, at least I think so. For what it's worth, I know it, too."
She gave the woman a reassuring smile, honestly believing her words were true. But if so, it did beg the question, if the gods provided food for everyone, why did some people seemingly have to go to such lengths?
Because others won't help them. The thought came to her without her seemingly thinking it.
Well she was going to do what she could to break the cycle.
Still, she knew that the other priestesses might not have been so nice about it, regardless of the fact that Nafretiri was one of their own now. Not everybody knew about her past as a slave, only Mother Sekhemu and a few others. Besides that, Nafretiri knew that there were more than a few priests and priestesses who couldn't see past their own noses. But she decided not to point that out. The woman probably knew it already.
Lest she ruin her reputation in front of others or be seen as the most gullible priestess ever, though, she did feel compelled to add a warning, if a gentle one.
"I'm not going to take you in. There may be more to this than I can know. But while my sense tells me you are good, others steal for evil, and neither the gods nor our own senses always tell us which people are which. This is why we watch. Can you understand?" The sun made Nafretiri's shawl sparkle with a silky sheen and gaver Her eyes, at the moment were sympathetic but also confident and still a little curious. She would have liked to talk more. It had been so long since she'd had anyone to talk to for herself and not as part of her occupation.
But just then, an acolyte came in carrying a wailing Aneksi. It wasn't time for her feeding yet, so Nafretiri was concerned.
"She had a fall toddling around as she does."
"Ohhh, sweetie. Let Mama look." She scooped the little girl into her arms.
Thankfully, there was no blood- even Nafretiri had bled once after a fall on the stone floor- but her knee was red and did look like it hurt. There might be a small bruise later. Nafretiri kissed the knee and stroked her little girl's hair back from her face.
It was clear that mother and daughter looked a great deal alike- not exactly so, because Aneksi's eyes were a shade lighter and her skin a couple of shades darker. It was not clear whom she would resemble in other features yet, either, her mother or her biological father. (Her hair, Nafretiri thought, was a mixture of the two.) But one would be able to tell they were related, even now with tears on the little girl's face.
Ever so slightly, while still comforting her daughter, Nafretiri moved closer to the entrance of the temple so as not to disturb those still worshiping.
Nafretiri's heart softened even more when the woman apologized. Although now that she came to think of it, would Ra accept a fruit back that had actually been in someone's mouth? It never occurred to her to question it before, but then, she didn't think she'd been faced with such a situation before.
Something about the apology seemed sincere. As if this woman might be running from someone, too. Not that Nafretiri could always accurately tell people's emotions, but if she had been hungry enough when she was freed, she might have done the same, and that was all that mattered. Knowing that much about herself helped her not to judge others.
"The gods know you didn't mean anything by it, at least I think so. For what it's worth, I know it, too."
She gave the woman a reassuring smile, honestly believing her words were true. But if so, it did beg the question, if the gods provided food for everyone, why did some people seemingly have to go to such lengths?
Because others won't help them. The thought came to her without her seemingly thinking it.
Well she was going to do what she could to break the cycle.
Still, she knew that the other priestesses might not have been so nice about it, regardless of the fact that Nafretiri was one of their own now. Not everybody knew about her past as a slave, only Mother Sekhemu and a few others. Besides that, Nafretiri knew that there were more than a few priests and priestesses who couldn't see past their own noses. But she decided not to point that out. The woman probably knew it already.
Lest she ruin her reputation in front of others or be seen as the most gullible priestess ever, though, she did feel compelled to add a warning, if a gentle one.
"I'm not going to take you in. There may be more to this than I can know. But while my sense tells me you are good, others steal for evil, and neither the gods nor our own senses always tell us which people are which. This is why we watch. Can you understand?" The sun made Nafretiri's shawl sparkle with a silky sheen and gaver Her eyes, at the moment were sympathetic but also confident and still a little curious. She would have liked to talk more. It had been so long since she'd had anyone to talk to for herself and not as part of her occupation.
But just then, an acolyte came in carrying a wailing Aneksi. It wasn't time for her feeding yet, so Nafretiri was concerned.
"She had a fall toddling around as she does."
"Ohhh, sweetie. Let Mama look." She scooped the little girl into her arms.
Thankfully, there was no blood- even Nafretiri had bled once after a fall on the stone floor- but her knee was red and did look like it hurt. There might be a small bruise later. Nafretiri kissed the knee and stroked her little girl's hair back from her face.
It was clear that mother and daughter looked a great deal alike- not exactly so, because Aneksi's eyes were a shade lighter and her skin a couple of shades darker. It was not clear whom she would resemble in other features yet, either, her mother or her biological father. (Her hair, Nafretiri thought, was a mixture of the two.) But one would be able to tell they were related, even now with tears on the little girl's face.
Ever so slightly, while still comforting her daughter, Nafretiri moved closer to the entrance of the temple so as not to disturb those still worshiping.
Neena's expression turned from wariness to subtle surprise as the young priestess actually believed her words. In her own experience, it was rare to find a member of the temples able to put aside their anger and scandalised morals long enough to actually hear words of explanation. To them, a crime committed against the Gods couldn't possibly have any other explanation than evil tendencies. Which meant Neena was screwed from the second she was caught. This lady seemed at least a little different. Level headed enough to pause for just long enough to allow a secondary consideration or reality into her doctrinal vision. Which meant that Neena instantly started to warm to her. She liked those who didn't fit the mould or follow the crowd. A woman with a strong religious belief and yet open-mindedness to considerations beyond that of her deities? Rare indeed.
When the woman didn't take the orange, clearly unsure whether or not it was still worthy of being a tribute, Neena glanced about and then had a quick idea. Digging her nails into the skin, carving little crescents and then breaking free the peel, she quickly removed the outer casing of the food - the bit of it that had touched the inside of her mouth - and then offered it to the girl once more with a half-smile and a slight shrug. Perhaps this way she could give back what she had taken without offering further insult to injury.
Before the girl could react to her solution, however, the wail of a young child piped up from their right and a young servant of the temple - maybe an acolyte? - came forward with a child that couldn't be more than two or three years old.
It would have been the perfect opportunity to run for it. To use the woman's distraction in the child to run down the temple steps and out into the streets of the city, long gone before the woman could react between the demanding infant and the fleeing infidel. But the sudden appearance of a young babe had Neena rooted to the spot in a moment of hesitation that used up her opportunity to escape. It had been the same way over the last three months - ever since she had left the Zaire... and her life there... Babies or young children gave her a moment of constriction in her chest, a heat in her heart and a moment of terror that she had made the wrong decision in disappearing from the tribe that had become hers over so many years.
But she pushed the feelings aside as she had done before, by which time the priestess had what was clearly her own child in her arms and was soothing her, attempting to shush the crying.
Never one to want to be a mother but naturally a little maternal in the desire to see all children joyous, Neena backed up a step to give herself room and quickly broke the fruit she held into its segments, forgetting that she was supposed to be returning it to the temple.
"Hey, hey..." She began in a calming and hushed tone, her timbre reaching the child. "Look at this little one..." And tooting a little tune through pursed lips, Neena started to juggle the orange pieces. Whilst the kid was still young and wouldn't understand what she was doing or how, she knew that even infants of her age were normally surprised or enthralled by quick movement and bright colours. The sun shone through each segment as she threw it, offering a sparkle of bright orange. After a few seconds, she switched up the technique and started juggling with a single hand for a second, then with two, then with criss-crossing the pieces or her hands. Quickly, she had the young one's attention - not smiles and giggles but at least a cease to the crying and wide, watchful eyes. She smiled at the child.
"Evil does indeed exist, your Grace." Neena offered, addressing the woman with a respectful title as she juggled. "But I should hope that you'll never find some in me."
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May 20, 2019 13:35:08 GMT
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Neena's expression turned from wariness to subtle surprise as the young priestess actually believed her words. In her own experience, it was rare to find a member of the temples able to put aside their anger and scandalised morals long enough to actually hear words of explanation. To them, a crime committed against the Gods couldn't possibly have any other explanation than evil tendencies. Which meant Neena was screwed from the second she was caught. This lady seemed at least a little different. Level headed enough to pause for just long enough to allow a secondary consideration or reality into her doctrinal vision. Which meant that Neena instantly started to warm to her. She liked those who didn't fit the mould or follow the crowd. A woman with a strong religious belief and yet open-mindedness to considerations beyond that of her deities? Rare indeed.
When the woman didn't take the orange, clearly unsure whether or not it was still worthy of being a tribute, Neena glanced about and then had a quick idea. Digging her nails into the skin, carving little crescents and then breaking free the peel, she quickly removed the outer casing of the food - the bit of it that had touched the inside of her mouth - and then offered it to the girl once more with a half-smile and a slight shrug. Perhaps this way she could give back what she had taken without offering further insult to injury.
Before the girl could react to her solution, however, the wail of a young child piped up from their right and a young servant of the temple - maybe an acolyte? - came forward with a child that couldn't be more than two or three years old.
It would have been the perfect opportunity to run for it. To use the woman's distraction in the child to run down the temple steps and out into the streets of the city, long gone before the woman could react between the demanding infant and the fleeing infidel. But the sudden appearance of a young babe had Neena rooted to the spot in a moment of hesitation that used up her opportunity to escape. It had been the same way over the last three months - ever since she had left the Zaire... and her life there... Babies or young children gave her a moment of constriction in her chest, a heat in her heart and a moment of terror that she had made the wrong decision in disappearing from the tribe that had become hers over so many years.
But she pushed the feelings aside as she had done before, by which time the priestess had what was clearly her own child in her arms and was soothing her, attempting to shush the crying.
Never one to want to be a mother but naturally a little maternal in the desire to see all children joyous, Neena backed up a step to give herself room and quickly broke the fruit she held into its segments, forgetting that she was supposed to be returning it to the temple.
"Hey, hey..." She began in a calming and hushed tone, her timbre reaching the child. "Look at this little one..." And tooting a little tune through pursed lips, Neena started to juggle the orange pieces. Whilst the kid was still young and wouldn't understand what she was doing or how, she knew that even infants of her age were normally surprised or enthralled by quick movement and bright colours. The sun shone through each segment as she threw it, offering a sparkle of bright orange. After a few seconds, she switched up the technique and started juggling with a single hand for a second, then with two, then with criss-crossing the pieces or her hands. Quickly, she had the young one's attention - not smiles and giggles but at least a cease to the crying and wide, watchful eyes. She smiled at the child.
"Evil does indeed exist, your Grace." Neena offered, addressing the woman with a respectful title as she juggled. "But I should hope that you'll never find some in me."
Neena's expression turned from wariness to subtle surprise as the young priestess actually believed her words. In her own experience, it was rare to find a member of the temples able to put aside their anger and scandalised morals long enough to actually hear words of explanation. To them, a crime committed against the Gods couldn't possibly have any other explanation than evil tendencies. Which meant Neena was screwed from the second she was caught. This lady seemed at least a little different. Level headed enough to pause for just long enough to allow a secondary consideration or reality into her doctrinal vision. Which meant that Neena instantly started to warm to her. She liked those who didn't fit the mould or follow the crowd. A woman with a strong religious belief and yet open-mindedness to considerations beyond that of her deities? Rare indeed.
When the woman didn't take the orange, clearly unsure whether or not it was still worthy of being a tribute, Neena glanced about and then had a quick idea. Digging her nails into the skin, carving little crescents and then breaking free the peel, she quickly removed the outer casing of the food - the bit of it that had touched the inside of her mouth - and then offered it to the girl once more with a half-smile and a slight shrug. Perhaps this way she could give back what she had taken without offering further insult to injury.
Before the girl could react to her solution, however, the wail of a young child piped up from their right and a young servant of the temple - maybe an acolyte? - came forward with a child that couldn't be more than two or three years old.
It would have been the perfect opportunity to run for it. To use the woman's distraction in the child to run down the temple steps and out into the streets of the city, long gone before the woman could react between the demanding infant and the fleeing infidel. But the sudden appearance of a young babe had Neena rooted to the spot in a moment of hesitation that used up her opportunity to escape. It had been the same way over the last three months - ever since she had left the Zaire... and her life there... Babies or young children gave her a moment of constriction in her chest, a heat in her heart and a moment of terror that she had made the wrong decision in disappearing from the tribe that had become hers over so many years.
But she pushed the feelings aside as she had done before, by which time the priestess had what was clearly her own child in her arms and was soothing her, attempting to shush the crying.
Never one to want to be a mother but naturally a little maternal in the desire to see all children joyous, Neena backed up a step to give herself room and quickly broke the fruit she held into its segments, forgetting that she was supposed to be returning it to the temple.
"Hey, hey..." She began in a calming and hushed tone, her timbre reaching the child. "Look at this little one..." And tooting a little tune through pursed lips, Neena started to juggle the orange pieces. Whilst the kid was still young and wouldn't understand what she was doing or how, she knew that even infants of her age were normally surprised or enthralled by quick movement and bright colours. The sun shone through each segment as she threw it, offering a sparkle of bright orange. After a few seconds, she switched up the technique and started juggling with a single hand for a second, then with two, then with criss-crossing the pieces or her hands. Quickly, she had the young one's attention - not smiles and giggles but at least a cease to the crying and wide, watchful eyes. She smiled at the child.
"Evil does indeed exist, your Grace." Neena offered, addressing the woman with a respectful title as she juggled. "But I should hope that you'll never find some in me."
Crooning and kissing her child caused Nafretiri to as good as forget the orange, actually. Perhaps the little impromptu performance for Aneksi could be counted as a boon to the god and Ra wouldn't need the orange at all. Besides that, it honestly did seem to her that the woman was hungry, or she probably wouldn't have been hiding the orange in her mouth.
But she likely wouldn't want a handout either- she seemed a lot stronger, in some ways, than Nafretiri was. As much as she loved living in the temple and trying to do her best to honor the goddess despite her reservations about certain ways of worship, she'd had no choice at the beginning but to take what seemed like things given in pity. It still made her uncomfortable two years later, as if she owed Mother Sekhemu something, though she knew it wasn't necessarily true. Perhaps she was eve
And then, as Aneksi watched the orange segments being juggled in the air, her eyes round and, a bit later, her little hands poised as though to clap, Nafretiri realized that she wouldn't be handing anything to this woman at all. Buying food for her would be a well-deserved payment! Her idea was something Nafretiri thought only existed in the minds of street entertainers.
"Are you?" She suddenly asked. "A street entertainer? You're very good! If you don't mind and would like to explore Thebes, we'll have lunch- my treat. It wouldn't be a handout. You've earned it just now. Look at her- she isn't crying anymore. She's fascinated." And so was Nafretiri, really. She'd have to ask the woman to teach her how to juggle- unless she could come by the temple every day, which wasn't as likely.
"What is your name?" she asked. It was only fair to know a person's name if you gave them food, in her opinion. The fact that Nafretiri would have to go out in public was daunting, but she was at least going to try.
"My name is Nafretiri, and this is my daughter, Aneksi."
"Evil does indeed exist, your Grace." Neena offered, addressing the woman with a respectful title as she juggled. "But I should hope that you'll never find some in me."
"Clearly not," Nafretiri decided. "Anyone who could captivate my child so has my respect and gratitude."
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May 20, 2019 13:35:32 GMT
Posted In If Needs Must on May 20, 2019 13:35:32 GMT
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Crooning and kissing her child caused Nafretiri to as good as forget the orange, actually. Perhaps the little impromptu performance for Aneksi could be counted as a boon to the god and Ra wouldn't need the orange at all. Besides that, it honestly did seem to her that the woman was hungry, or she probably wouldn't have been hiding the orange in her mouth.
But she likely wouldn't want a handout either- she seemed a lot stronger, in some ways, than Nafretiri was. As much as she loved living in the temple and trying to do her best to honor the goddess despite her reservations about certain ways of worship, she'd had no choice at the beginning but to take what seemed like things given in pity. It still made her uncomfortable two years later, as if she owed Mother Sekhemu something, though she knew it wasn't necessarily true. Perhaps she was eve
And then, as Aneksi watched the orange segments being juggled in the air, her eyes round and, a bit later, her little hands poised as though to clap, Nafretiri realized that she wouldn't be handing anything to this woman at all. Buying food for her would be a well-deserved payment! Her idea was something Nafretiri thought only existed in the minds of street entertainers.
"Are you?" She suddenly asked. "A street entertainer? You're very good! If you don't mind and would like to explore Thebes, we'll have lunch- my treat. It wouldn't be a handout. You've earned it just now. Look at her- she isn't crying anymore. She's fascinated." And so was Nafretiri, really. She'd have to ask the woman to teach her how to juggle- unless she could come by the temple every day, which wasn't as likely.
"What is your name?" she asked. It was only fair to know a person's name if you gave them food, in her opinion. The fact that Nafretiri would have to go out in public was daunting, but she was at least going to try.
"My name is Nafretiri, and this is my daughter, Aneksi."
"Evil does indeed exist, your Grace." Neena offered, addressing the woman with a respectful title as she juggled. "But I should hope that you'll never find some in me."
"Clearly not," Nafretiri decided. "Anyone who could captivate my child so has my respect and gratitude."
Crooning and kissing her child caused Nafretiri to as good as forget the orange, actually. Perhaps the little impromptu performance for Aneksi could be counted as a boon to the god and Ra wouldn't need the orange at all. Besides that, it honestly did seem to her that the woman was hungry, or she probably wouldn't have been hiding the orange in her mouth.
But she likely wouldn't want a handout either- she seemed a lot stronger, in some ways, than Nafretiri was. As much as she loved living in the temple and trying to do her best to honor the goddess despite her reservations about certain ways of worship, she'd had no choice at the beginning but to take what seemed like things given in pity. It still made her uncomfortable two years later, as if she owed Mother Sekhemu something, though she knew it wasn't necessarily true. Perhaps she was eve
And then, as Aneksi watched the orange segments being juggled in the air, her eyes round and, a bit later, her little hands poised as though to clap, Nafretiri realized that she wouldn't be handing anything to this woman at all. Buying food for her would be a well-deserved payment! Her idea was something Nafretiri thought only existed in the minds of street entertainers.
"Are you?" She suddenly asked. "A street entertainer? You're very good! If you don't mind and would like to explore Thebes, we'll have lunch- my treat. It wouldn't be a handout. You've earned it just now. Look at her- she isn't crying anymore. She's fascinated." And so was Nafretiri, really. She'd have to ask the woman to teach her how to juggle- unless she could come by the temple every day, which wasn't as likely.
"What is your name?" she asked. It was only fair to know a person's name if you gave them food, in her opinion. The fact that Nafretiri would have to go out in public was daunting, but she was at least going to try.
"My name is Nafretiri, and this is my daughter, Aneksi."
"Evil does indeed exist, your Grace." Neena offered, addressing the woman with a respectful title as she juggled. "But I should hope that you'll never find some in me."
"Clearly not," Nafretiri decided. "Anyone who could captivate my child so has my respect and gratitude."
Neena smiled as she juggled, keeping one eye on the fruit and the other on the baby to ensure she was entertained. Her attention was distracted fully, however, when the woman suggested a tour of the city - in payment of food. She felt her stomach tighten in hunger, as if to encourage her in her choice on whether to take her up on the opportunity but she shrugged it away. She would make her own choices based on her own mind - not that of her stomach.
Catching each segment in turn, Neena handed over one of the segments to the little girl to suck on and then placed the remainder of the fruit on the edge of one of the column's sculptures, not allowing the offering to leave the temple, as she had promised. To answer the woman's question of whether she was a street performer, Neena just smiled brightly and offered a side to side head jiggle as if she were considering the term and whether it applied to herself.
"I'm a little bit of everything." She told the woman. "Whether people find me entertaining or not - I guess that's down to them." She wiggled her fingers at the baby in the woman's arms, before taking a calming breath through the nose and turning to face the mother, her decision made.
"And sure..." She offered casually, taking a pace backwards, one foot on a lower step already ready to head into the city. "You want a tour round Thebes, I'm happy to oblige?" She then raised a cautioning finger. "But the food is in payment for a job well done. You don't find me positively charming and I expect the starve, are we clear?" Her tone was jovial and clearly set for amusement, but her eyes held a seriousness - a dignity - that stated she wasn't wholly joking. That she would not accept a hand out or charity given in pity. She was not so poor as to have her honour taken from her.
Without waiting for an answer to her rhetorical warning, Neena hopped down a few more steps, wrapped her cloak around herself and then waved a hand of encouragement.
"You good to go now or do you need... stuff?" Her tone of questioning simply came from the fact that she herself never carried anything beyond the clothes on her back and the limited money she kept in a leather pouch tied to her thigh. She wasn't used to having to carry things around or "prepare" for journeys or trips out for the day. But babies tended to come with baggage so she remembered well enough to pause in her enthusiasm and check.
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May 20, 2019 13:36:01 GMT
Posted In If Needs Must on May 20, 2019 13:36:01 GMT
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Neena smiled as she juggled, keeping one eye on the fruit and the other on the baby to ensure she was entertained. Her attention was distracted fully, however, when the woman suggested a tour of the city - in payment of food. She felt her stomach tighten in hunger, as if to encourage her in her choice on whether to take her up on the opportunity but she shrugged it away. She would make her own choices based on her own mind - not that of her stomach.
Catching each segment in turn, Neena handed over one of the segments to the little girl to suck on and then placed the remainder of the fruit on the edge of one of the column's sculptures, not allowing the offering to leave the temple, as she had promised. To answer the woman's question of whether she was a street performer, Neena just smiled brightly and offered a side to side head jiggle as if she were considering the term and whether it applied to herself.
"I'm a little bit of everything." She told the woman. "Whether people find me entertaining or not - I guess that's down to them." She wiggled her fingers at the baby in the woman's arms, before taking a calming breath through the nose and turning to face the mother, her decision made.
"And sure..." She offered casually, taking a pace backwards, one foot on a lower step already ready to head into the city. "You want a tour round Thebes, I'm happy to oblige?" She then raised a cautioning finger. "But the food is in payment for a job well done. You don't find me positively charming and I expect the starve, are we clear?" Her tone was jovial and clearly set for amusement, but her eyes held a seriousness - a dignity - that stated she wasn't wholly joking. That she would not accept a hand out or charity given in pity. She was not so poor as to have her honour taken from her.
Without waiting for an answer to her rhetorical warning, Neena hopped down a few more steps, wrapped her cloak around herself and then waved a hand of encouragement.
"You good to go now or do you need... stuff?" Her tone of questioning simply came from the fact that she herself never carried anything beyond the clothes on her back and the limited money she kept in a leather pouch tied to her thigh. She wasn't used to having to carry things around or "prepare" for journeys or trips out for the day. But babies tended to come with baggage so she remembered well enough to pause in her enthusiasm and check.
Neena smiled as she juggled, keeping one eye on the fruit and the other on the baby to ensure she was entertained. Her attention was distracted fully, however, when the woman suggested a tour of the city - in payment of food. She felt her stomach tighten in hunger, as if to encourage her in her choice on whether to take her up on the opportunity but she shrugged it away. She would make her own choices based on her own mind - not that of her stomach.
Catching each segment in turn, Neena handed over one of the segments to the little girl to suck on and then placed the remainder of the fruit on the edge of one of the column's sculptures, not allowing the offering to leave the temple, as she had promised. To answer the woman's question of whether she was a street performer, Neena just smiled brightly and offered a side to side head jiggle as if she were considering the term and whether it applied to herself.
"I'm a little bit of everything." She told the woman. "Whether people find me entertaining or not - I guess that's down to them." She wiggled her fingers at the baby in the woman's arms, before taking a calming breath through the nose and turning to face the mother, her decision made.
"And sure..." She offered casually, taking a pace backwards, one foot on a lower step already ready to head into the city. "You want a tour round Thebes, I'm happy to oblige?" She then raised a cautioning finger. "But the food is in payment for a job well done. You don't find me positively charming and I expect the starve, are we clear?" Her tone was jovial and clearly set for amusement, but her eyes held a seriousness - a dignity - that stated she wasn't wholly joking. That she would not accept a hand out or charity given in pity. She was not so poor as to have her honour taken from her.
Without waiting for an answer to her rhetorical warning, Neena hopped down a few more steps, wrapped her cloak around herself and then waved a hand of encouragement.
"You good to go now or do you need... stuff?" Her tone of questioning simply came from the fact that she herself never carried anything beyond the clothes on her back and the limited money she kept in a leather pouch tied to her thigh. She wasn't used to having to carry things around or "prepare" for journeys or trips out for the day. But babies tended to come with baggage so she remembered well enough to pause in her enthusiasm and check.
Aneksi was quieted by the orange and seemed enthused with Neena's voice as well. She luckily did not have a wet or soiled diaper from her fall. She had been more shocked than anything- but then Nafretiri had felt that painful and then odd numbing feeling. Sometimes the shock of the tingling numbing effect after was worse than the pain itself.
Nafretiri chuckled as Neena explained.
"I'm a little bit of everything." She told the woman. "Whether people find me entertaining or not - I guess that's down to them."
"That's true," she admitted. Then her eyes took on a serious note. "I do want you to know- I'm not trying to take away your dignity. I know how it feels. When I first came here, pregnant and alone, I had to accept a lot of things I didn't feel there was any way I could pay back. Somehow, there still isn't a way to pay back that kind of generosity, except to do it in return when you have the resources."
She bit her lip, wondering if there would be further questions, since she had all but admitted she wasn't married and had a child. In Judea, there would have been many. Here, maybe not as many, but still.
Yet she had felt compelled to share that for some reason. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe Neena wouldn't even be around that long. Nafretiri was used to people leaving in her life. Gods knew it had happened often enough when her friends- if one could have called them that- got married. But for whatever reason, she had felt it was important for her to know. Maybe just for her to be able to possibly trust her for today, never mind how long she might be in Egypt.
"You good to go now or do you need... stuff?" Nafretiri considered for a few seconds. "Maybe just a few clean cloths. I'll be back in a moment."
As she disappeared in the other direction, then down a corridor to her room, she wondered what Neena would do while she was gone. Thankfully, this shouldn't take long. By the time she was back, the cloths under her other arm, Aneksi had finished eating the orange- though she had been slowly sucking and almost methodical at first.
When they returned, she would probably smile hugely again at the interesting lady who had juggled the oranges, were she still there.
Nafretiri didn't think she would leave after she'd been promised food, but with some people, she realized it was hard to tell. She hoped she'd be there if only to leave with her, to make the outside world a little less frightening. She was still aware even though she had hopefully had an air of calm about her, leaving the temple would put her at risk of being found. She didn't matter because she'd been freed, but Aneksi did matter because she was all Nafretiri had.
Everything she wanted involved risk, it seemed, from love, friendship, and acceptance right down to breaths of fresh air. Risks involved the possibility of disappointment.
It wasn't fair.
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May 20, 2019 13:36:27 GMT
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Aneksi was quieted by the orange and seemed enthused with Neena's voice as well. She luckily did not have a wet or soiled diaper from her fall. She had been more shocked than anything- but then Nafretiri had felt that painful and then odd numbing feeling. Sometimes the shock of the tingling numbing effect after was worse than the pain itself.
Nafretiri chuckled as Neena explained.
"I'm a little bit of everything." She told the woman. "Whether people find me entertaining or not - I guess that's down to them."
"That's true," she admitted. Then her eyes took on a serious note. "I do want you to know- I'm not trying to take away your dignity. I know how it feels. When I first came here, pregnant and alone, I had to accept a lot of things I didn't feel there was any way I could pay back. Somehow, there still isn't a way to pay back that kind of generosity, except to do it in return when you have the resources."
She bit her lip, wondering if there would be further questions, since she had all but admitted she wasn't married and had a child. In Judea, there would have been many. Here, maybe not as many, but still.
Yet she had felt compelled to share that for some reason. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe Neena wouldn't even be around that long. Nafretiri was used to people leaving in her life. Gods knew it had happened often enough when her friends- if one could have called them that- got married. But for whatever reason, she had felt it was important for her to know. Maybe just for her to be able to possibly trust her for today, never mind how long she might be in Egypt.
"You good to go now or do you need... stuff?" Nafretiri considered for a few seconds. "Maybe just a few clean cloths. I'll be back in a moment."
As she disappeared in the other direction, then down a corridor to her room, she wondered what Neena would do while she was gone. Thankfully, this shouldn't take long. By the time she was back, the cloths under her other arm, Aneksi had finished eating the orange- though she had been slowly sucking and almost methodical at first.
When they returned, she would probably smile hugely again at the interesting lady who had juggled the oranges, were she still there.
Nafretiri didn't think she would leave after she'd been promised food, but with some people, she realized it was hard to tell. She hoped she'd be there if only to leave with her, to make the outside world a little less frightening. She was still aware even though she had hopefully had an air of calm about her, leaving the temple would put her at risk of being found. She didn't matter because she'd been freed, but Aneksi did matter because she was all Nafretiri had.
Everything she wanted involved risk, it seemed, from love, friendship, and acceptance right down to breaths of fresh air. Risks involved the possibility of disappointment.
It wasn't fair.
Aneksi was quieted by the orange and seemed enthused with Neena's voice as well. She luckily did not have a wet or soiled diaper from her fall. She had been more shocked than anything- but then Nafretiri had felt that painful and then odd numbing feeling. Sometimes the shock of the tingling numbing effect after was worse than the pain itself.
Nafretiri chuckled as Neena explained.
"I'm a little bit of everything." She told the woman. "Whether people find me entertaining or not - I guess that's down to them."
"That's true," she admitted. Then her eyes took on a serious note. "I do want you to know- I'm not trying to take away your dignity. I know how it feels. When I first came here, pregnant and alone, I had to accept a lot of things I didn't feel there was any way I could pay back. Somehow, there still isn't a way to pay back that kind of generosity, except to do it in return when you have the resources."
She bit her lip, wondering if there would be further questions, since she had all but admitted she wasn't married and had a child. In Judea, there would have been many. Here, maybe not as many, but still.
Yet she had felt compelled to share that for some reason. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe Neena wouldn't even be around that long. Nafretiri was used to people leaving in her life. Gods knew it had happened often enough when her friends- if one could have called them that- got married. But for whatever reason, she had felt it was important for her to know. Maybe just for her to be able to possibly trust her for today, never mind how long she might be in Egypt.
"You good to go now or do you need... stuff?" Nafretiri considered for a few seconds. "Maybe just a few clean cloths. I'll be back in a moment."
As she disappeared in the other direction, then down a corridor to her room, she wondered what Neena would do while she was gone. Thankfully, this shouldn't take long. By the time she was back, the cloths under her other arm, Aneksi had finished eating the orange- though she had been slowly sucking and almost methodical at first.
When they returned, she would probably smile hugely again at the interesting lady who had juggled the oranges, were she still there.
Nafretiri didn't think she would leave after she'd been promised food, but with some people, she realized it was hard to tell. She hoped she'd be there if only to leave with her, to make the outside world a little less frightening. She was still aware even though she had hopefully had an air of calm about her, leaving the temple would put her at risk of being found. She didn't matter because she'd been freed, but Aneksi did matter because she was all Nafretiri had.
Everything she wanted involved risk, it seemed, from love, friendship, and acceptance right down to breaths of fresh air. Risks involved the possibility of disappointment.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't exactly trust that kept Neena outside the shining temple of Hathor. Neither was it hunger or the promise of food later in the day. Instead she was curious about the woman that she had just met and her young daughter. For she was a contradiction in terms. A woman who seemed to be devout in her beliefs and practices of the great temple; ordered and practiced in not being herself but a small partial entity of a larger singular identity - that of the temple and their priestess order... And yet was honest and open enough to share personal matters with a stranger on the front steps of that prestesshood's home. A stranger who had recently thieved a blessing meant for the gods themselves.
Neena liked complexities. She liked complex situations, arguments, philosophies, contexts and people. She hated simplicity. She hated those who seemed to think that the big old mess that was the world and the human existence in it could be boiled down to simple behaviours or motivations. To good and bad. Villain and hero. Right a d wrong. It was one of the reasons she hated any form of organised religion; the rituals, the concepts of correct and incorrect behaviours or thoughts. No-one knew what happened after death and the fact that mortals felt the need to try and make sense of it, to try and sway any Gods that were out there in their favour was, as far as Neena was concerned, the height of hubris.
Which was why the complexities of the young mother and her child we of interest to her. The fact that she even had a child, both as an unmarried woman and a priestess was enough to rouse her attention suitably to keep her in place when she left Neena in order to fetch her things. The only thing she had the chance to say before she headed out was in answer to her personal expulsion...
"There's no shame in taking aid on behalf of a young child." she said with a smile, her gaze drifting to the young babe, as her words only agreed with part of the priestess' words; absolving her of her own moment of weakness without making comment on her own.
When the woman did I indeed head inside the carved pillars of the temple in order to collect whatever she needed, Neena simple squatted down on the top step before the temple, knees out in an unladylike manner and her elbows braced upon them. There she hunkered down and hummed to herself in a tune that was entirely made up but at least in key.
When she was joined once more by the young woman, Neena simply kept her feet in place and straightened her legs to rise to standing almost immediately. With a friendly smile, she headed on down the front temple steps her feet light and her gait relaxed, unimpeded by any garment or bad that might smother or impede her limbs, as she through both sides of her cloak over her shoulders.
"So..." Neena called back as she reached the bottom, turning to walk backwards over the sandy roads. "What were you wanting to see first?" she asked, her expression daring the more adventurous side of the priestess's spirit.
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May 20, 2019 13:37:10 GMT
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It wasn't exactly trust that kept Neena outside the shining temple of Hathor. Neither was it hunger or the promise of food later in the day. Instead she was curious about the woman that she had just met and her young daughter. For she was a contradiction in terms. A woman who seemed to be devout in her beliefs and practices of the great temple; ordered and practiced in not being herself but a small partial entity of a larger singular identity - that of the temple and their priestess order... And yet was honest and open enough to share personal matters with a stranger on the front steps of that prestesshood's home. A stranger who had recently thieved a blessing meant for the gods themselves.
Neena liked complexities. She liked complex situations, arguments, philosophies, contexts and people. She hated simplicity. She hated those who seemed to think that the big old mess that was the world and the human existence in it could be boiled down to simple behaviours or motivations. To good and bad. Villain and hero. Right a d wrong. It was one of the reasons she hated any form of organised religion; the rituals, the concepts of correct and incorrect behaviours or thoughts. No-one knew what happened after death and the fact that mortals felt the need to try and make sense of it, to try and sway any Gods that were out there in their favour was, as far as Neena was concerned, the height of hubris.
Which was why the complexities of the young mother and her child we of interest to her. The fact that she even had a child, both as an unmarried woman and a priestess was enough to rouse her attention suitably to keep her in place when she left Neena in order to fetch her things. The only thing she had the chance to say before she headed out was in answer to her personal expulsion...
"There's no shame in taking aid on behalf of a young child." she said with a smile, her gaze drifting to the young babe, as her words only agreed with part of the priestess' words; absolving her of her own moment of weakness without making comment on her own.
When the woman did I indeed head inside the carved pillars of the temple in order to collect whatever she needed, Neena simple squatted down on the top step before the temple, knees out in an unladylike manner and her elbows braced upon them. There she hunkered down and hummed to herself in a tune that was entirely made up but at least in key.
When she was joined once more by the young woman, Neena simply kept her feet in place and straightened her legs to rise to standing almost immediately. With a friendly smile, she headed on down the front temple steps her feet light and her gait relaxed, unimpeded by any garment or bad that might smother or impede her limbs, as she through both sides of her cloak over her shoulders.
"So..." Neena called back as she reached the bottom, turning to walk backwards over the sandy roads. "What were you wanting to see first?" she asked, her expression daring the more adventurous side of the priestess's spirit.
It wasn't exactly trust that kept Neena outside the shining temple of Hathor. Neither was it hunger or the promise of food later in the day. Instead she was curious about the woman that she had just met and her young daughter. For she was a contradiction in terms. A woman who seemed to be devout in her beliefs and practices of the great temple; ordered and practiced in not being herself but a small partial entity of a larger singular identity - that of the temple and their priestess order... And yet was honest and open enough to share personal matters with a stranger on the front steps of that prestesshood's home. A stranger who had recently thieved a blessing meant for the gods themselves.
Neena liked complexities. She liked complex situations, arguments, philosophies, contexts and people. She hated simplicity. She hated those who seemed to think that the big old mess that was the world and the human existence in it could be boiled down to simple behaviours or motivations. To good and bad. Villain and hero. Right a d wrong. It was one of the reasons she hated any form of organised religion; the rituals, the concepts of correct and incorrect behaviours or thoughts. No-one knew what happened after death and the fact that mortals felt the need to try and make sense of it, to try and sway any Gods that were out there in their favour was, as far as Neena was concerned, the height of hubris.
Which was why the complexities of the young mother and her child we of interest to her. The fact that she even had a child, both as an unmarried woman and a priestess was enough to rouse her attention suitably to keep her in place when she left Neena in order to fetch her things. The only thing she had the chance to say before she headed out was in answer to her personal expulsion...
"There's no shame in taking aid on behalf of a young child." she said with a smile, her gaze drifting to the young babe, as her words only agreed with part of the priestess' words; absolving her of her own moment of weakness without making comment on her own.
When the woman did I indeed head inside the carved pillars of the temple in order to collect whatever she needed, Neena simple squatted down on the top step before the temple, knees out in an unladylike manner and her elbows braced upon them. There she hunkered down and hummed to herself in a tune that was entirely made up but at least in key.
When she was joined once more by the young woman, Neena simply kept her feet in place and straightened her legs to rise to standing almost immediately. With a friendly smile, she headed on down the front temple steps her feet light and her gait relaxed, unimpeded by any garment or bad that might smother or impede her limbs, as she through both sides of her cloak over her shoulders.
"So..." Neena called back as she reached the bottom, turning to walk backwards over the sandy roads. "What were you wanting to see first?" she asked, her expression daring the more adventurous side of the priestess's spirit.
Nafretiri considered Neena's words with a sigh as she headed out into the sunshine. "This is true, however...it is not an easy debt to repay." Maybe it was her past as a merchant's daughter, or maybe it was because she always felt like she had to earn things rather than being patronized. but either way, an unpaid debt did not sit well with her. She considered what she might like to see. It wasn't wise for her to venture too close to the Heis, lest someone recognize her as the former slave she was, but as far as everything else, the sky was the limit.
"I've always wanted to see the city, really. I'm just not sure where to start. I'm sure that you can tell between being a priestess and being a mother, I don't get out much." It wasn't the only reason, but she was unsure how much to reveal to someone she had just met. Revealing something in order to try to identify with another person, as she'd done before, was different somehow than just spilling everything. How much should she reveal?
"Have you been here before? We could start near the taverns, I suppose, if you need lodgings. I'd offer to have you stay at the temple for a few nights, but I'm not sure how much more we- the priestesses of Hathor- could help with." Mother Sekhemu did seem to have a soft spot for orphans, but Nafretiri wasn't sure how old Neena was, or if she would even qualify as an orphan. Then again, needing help had no age limit.
As scorching hot as the sun seemed to be, Nafretiri's spirit was lifted somehow by feeling sun and wind on her skin by turns. It was a kind of freedom being indoors- safe as that was- could not offer. Nor could she ever really find a substitute for a long walk, as those seemed to do wonders for clearing one's head.
Just as Neena seemed to think Nafretiri was interesting, Nafretiri found her interesting as well. "Where did you come from?" she ventured. "When I was a little girl, there were Greeks who took over my town, but you don't quite look like them. Perhaps there could be a similarity in regards to your hair color, but nothing more."
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May 20, 2019 13:37:38 GMT
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Nafretiri considered Neena's words with a sigh as she headed out into the sunshine. "This is true, however...it is not an easy debt to repay." Maybe it was her past as a merchant's daughter, or maybe it was because she always felt like she had to earn things rather than being patronized. but either way, an unpaid debt did not sit well with her. She considered what she might like to see. It wasn't wise for her to venture too close to the Heis, lest someone recognize her as the former slave she was, but as far as everything else, the sky was the limit.
"I've always wanted to see the city, really. I'm just not sure where to start. I'm sure that you can tell between being a priestess and being a mother, I don't get out much." It wasn't the only reason, but she was unsure how much to reveal to someone she had just met. Revealing something in order to try to identify with another person, as she'd done before, was different somehow than just spilling everything. How much should she reveal?
"Have you been here before? We could start near the taverns, I suppose, if you need lodgings. I'd offer to have you stay at the temple for a few nights, but I'm not sure how much more we- the priestesses of Hathor- could help with." Mother Sekhemu did seem to have a soft spot for orphans, but Nafretiri wasn't sure how old Neena was, or if she would even qualify as an orphan. Then again, needing help had no age limit.
As scorching hot as the sun seemed to be, Nafretiri's spirit was lifted somehow by feeling sun and wind on her skin by turns. It was a kind of freedom being indoors- safe as that was- could not offer. Nor could she ever really find a substitute for a long walk, as those seemed to do wonders for clearing one's head.
Just as Neena seemed to think Nafretiri was interesting, Nafretiri found her interesting as well. "Where did you come from?" she ventured. "When I was a little girl, there were Greeks who took over my town, but you don't quite look like them. Perhaps there could be a similarity in regards to your hair color, but nothing more."
Nafretiri considered Neena's words with a sigh as she headed out into the sunshine. "This is true, however...it is not an easy debt to repay." Maybe it was her past as a merchant's daughter, or maybe it was because she always felt like she had to earn things rather than being patronized. but either way, an unpaid debt did not sit well with her. She considered what she might like to see. It wasn't wise for her to venture too close to the Heis, lest someone recognize her as the former slave she was, but as far as everything else, the sky was the limit.
"I've always wanted to see the city, really. I'm just not sure where to start. I'm sure that you can tell between being a priestess and being a mother, I don't get out much." It wasn't the only reason, but she was unsure how much to reveal to someone she had just met. Revealing something in order to try to identify with another person, as she'd done before, was different somehow than just spilling everything. How much should she reveal?
"Have you been here before? We could start near the taverns, I suppose, if you need lodgings. I'd offer to have you stay at the temple for a few nights, but I'm not sure how much more we- the priestesses of Hathor- could help with." Mother Sekhemu did seem to have a soft spot for orphans, but Nafretiri wasn't sure how old Neena was, or if she would even qualify as an orphan. Then again, needing help had no age limit.
As scorching hot as the sun seemed to be, Nafretiri's spirit was lifted somehow by feeling sun and wind on her skin by turns. It was a kind of freedom being indoors- safe as that was- could not offer. Nor could she ever really find a substitute for a long walk, as those seemed to do wonders for clearing one's head.
Just as Neena seemed to think Nafretiri was interesting, Nafretiri found her interesting as well. "Where did you come from?" she ventured. "When I was a little girl, there were Greeks who took over my town, but you don't quite look like them. Perhaps there could be a similarity in regards to your hair color, but nothing more."
Neena watched as the woman tried to consider where best to start on their little tour and adventure of the city of Thebes. It wasn't surprising to her that the woman had been kept within the walls of the temple through both her duties as a priestess and her responsibilities as a mother. Two very good reasons why Neena had never become either. The fact that she tended to dislike religion being a sticking point beyond even that. But really... it was the being tied down that Neena hated more than anything else. It felt... stifling. Whilst some found security and contentedness in knowing what the next day brought and were terror struck at the idea of their life changing in any dramatic way, Neena felt such assuredness to be simply a noose around her neck and the promise of spontaneity to be a wave of fresh air filling her lungs.
Pure freedom. There was nothing like it.
But, Neena was aware that, in general, she was in the minority with such views. That her way of life came with some downsides that the majority of the people she had met just could not accept. The sleeping outside, the hunger, the pure aloneness, as you could not stay with those you cared for without the feeling of walls closing in on you... All such things hurt in their own way. And Neena understood why people disliked the notion of the way she lived her life. So, there was no judgement in her when it came to how others lived theirs. She might not agree with, nor wish for this priestess' way of living for herself. But that didn't mean someone else couldn't find satisfaction in it.
Watching the woman as she navigated her way down the steps to the street, Neena answered her questions as she asked them, attempting to be honest whilst not revealing a great deal of her inner soul.
"I've been here a few days. And thanks for the offer but I have residences already sorted." If you counted the streets as a "residence" of sorts. But hey, it didn't get that cold at night and she enjoyed sleeping under the stars. So, there was no need to inform the woman she was homeless and spark off unnecessary sympathies.
When the woman asked about where she was from, Neena broke into a grin.
"Everywhere!" She answered her with her arms flung out wide as she spoke. Her features turned slightly quizzical and a small frown came into place as she seemed to be considering the validity of her next words. "Most believed - when I was little - that I'm partly Egyptian, but also half from Bedoa. And then... after that..." She shrugged. "I've basically been everywhere..." Her bright smile was back. "So, I don't really feel the need to claim any one place as my home."
Turning on her heel to lead the woman through some of the first streets they found, Neena naturally headed in the direction of the Mabsoot District. There were houses there as impressive as temples or palaces and they were a lot more interesting to look at than the homes of the common folk that were built in straight and square lines.
"Where are you from?" Neena asked as they walked, returning the question naturally. "You're not tan enough to be Egyptian... Your hair is dark and your features small... Imma guess you're Judean?" She narrowed her eyes at Naf stronger. "And you're comfortable with travel... you're clearly not devout in your Hebrew or Jewish ways... Plus you've known Greeks in the past, so Imma take another guess and say from Israel?" With a smile and the quick clap of her hands Neena grinned at the woman. "Are you impressed? I'm quite good at this game. I can do better too... I once worked out what this guy's mother did for a living and how old he was when she died. It freaked him out and he went around calling me an Oracle for a solid month."
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May 20, 2019 13:38:08 GMT
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Neena watched as the woman tried to consider where best to start on their little tour and adventure of the city of Thebes. It wasn't surprising to her that the woman had been kept within the walls of the temple through both her duties as a priestess and her responsibilities as a mother. Two very good reasons why Neena had never become either. The fact that she tended to dislike religion being a sticking point beyond even that. But really... it was the being tied down that Neena hated more than anything else. It felt... stifling. Whilst some found security and contentedness in knowing what the next day brought and were terror struck at the idea of their life changing in any dramatic way, Neena felt such assuredness to be simply a noose around her neck and the promise of spontaneity to be a wave of fresh air filling her lungs.
Pure freedom. There was nothing like it.
But, Neena was aware that, in general, she was in the minority with such views. That her way of life came with some downsides that the majority of the people she had met just could not accept. The sleeping outside, the hunger, the pure aloneness, as you could not stay with those you cared for without the feeling of walls closing in on you... All such things hurt in their own way. And Neena understood why people disliked the notion of the way she lived her life. So, there was no judgement in her when it came to how others lived theirs. She might not agree with, nor wish for this priestess' way of living for herself. But that didn't mean someone else couldn't find satisfaction in it.
Watching the woman as she navigated her way down the steps to the street, Neena answered her questions as she asked them, attempting to be honest whilst not revealing a great deal of her inner soul.
"I've been here a few days. And thanks for the offer but I have residences already sorted." If you counted the streets as a "residence" of sorts. But hey, it didn't get that cold at night and she enjoyed sleeping under the stars. So, there was no need to inform the woman she was homeless and spark off unnecessary sympathies.
When the woman asked about where she was from, Neena broke into a grin.
"Everywhere!" She answered her with her arms flung out wide as she spoke. Her features turned slightly quizzical and a small frown came into place as she seemed to be considering the validity of her next words. "Most believed - when I was little - that I'm partly Egyptian, but also half from Bedoa. And then... after that..." She shrugged. "I've basically been everywhere..." Her bright smile was back. "So, I don't really feel the need to claim any one place as my home."
Turning on her heel to lead the woman through some of the first streets they found, Neena naturally headed in the direction of the Mabsoot District. There were houses there as impressive as temples or palaces and they were a lot more interesting to look at than the homes of the common folk that were built in straight and square lines.
"Where are you from?" Neena asked as they walked, returning the question naturally. "You're not tan enough to be Egyptian... Your hair is dark and your features small... Imma guess you're Judean?" She narrowed her eyes at Naf stronger. "And you're comfortable with travel... you're clearly not devout in your Hebrew or Jewish ways... Plus you've known Greeks in the past, so Imma take another guess and say from Israel?" With a smile and the quick clap of her hands Neena grinned at the woman. "Are you impressed? I'm quite good at this game. I can do better too... I once worked out what this guy's mother did for a living and how old he was when she died. It freaked him out and he went around calling me an Oracle for a solid month."
Neena watched as the woman tried to consider where best to start on their little tour and adventure of the city of Thebes. It wasn't surprising to her that the woman had been kept within the walls of the temple through both her duties as a priestess and her responsibilities as a mother. Two very good reasons why Neena had never become either. The fact that she tended to dislike religion being a sticking point beyond even that. But really... it was the being tied down that Neena hated more than anything else. It felt... stifling. Whilst some found security and contentedness in knowing what the next day brought and were terror struck at the idea of their life changing in any dramatic way, Neena felt such assuredness to be simply a noose around her neck and the promise of spontaneity to be a wave of fresh air filling her lungs.
Pure freedom. There was nothing like it.
But, Neena was aware that, in general, she was in the minority with such views. That her way of life came with some downsides that the majority of the people she had met just could not accept. The sleeping outside, the hunger, the pure aloneness, as you could not stay with those you cared for without the feeling of walls closing in on you... All such things hurt in their own way. And Neena understood why people disliked the notion of the way she lived her life. So, there was no judgement in her when it came to how others lived theirs. She might not agree with, nor wish for this priestess' way of living for herself. But that didn't mean someone else couldn't find satisfaction in it.
Watching the woman as she navigated her way down the steps to the street, Neena answered her questions as she asked them, attempting to be honest whilst not revealing a great deal of her inner soul.
"I've been here a few days. And thanks for the offer but I have residences already sorted." If you counted the streets as a "residence" of sorts. But hey, it didn't get that cold at night and she enjoyed sleeping under the stars. So, there was no need to inform the woman she was homeless and spark off unnecessary sympathies.
When the woman asked about where she was from, Neena broke into a grin.
"Everywhere!" She answered her with her arms flung out wide as she spoke. Her features turned slightly quizzical and a small frown came into place as she seemed to be considering the validity of her next words. "Most believed - when I was little - that I'm partly Egyptian, but also half from Bedoa. And then... after that..." She shrugged. "I've basically been everywhere..." Her bright smile was back. "So, I don't really feel the need to claim any one place as my home."
Turning on her heel to lead the woman through some of the first streets they found, Neena naturally headed in the direction of the Mabsoot District. There were houses there as impressive as temples or palaces and they were a lot more interesting to look at than the homes of the common folk that were built in straight and square lines.
"Where are you from?" Neena asked as they walked, returning the question naturally. "You're not tan enough to be Egyptian... Your hair is dark and your features small... Imma guess you're Judean?" She narrowed her eyes at Naf stronger. "And you're comfortable with travel... you're clearly not devout in your Hebrew or Jewish ways... Plus you've known Greeks in the past, so Imma take another guess and say from Israel?" With a smile and the quick clap of her hands Neena grinned at the woman. "Are you impressed? I'm quite good at this game. I can do better too... I once worked out what this guy's mother did for a living and how old he was when she died. It freaked him out and he went around calling me an Oracle for a solid month."
Nafretiri was a little floored by how accurate Neena's guesses were. Was Nafretiri that obvious?
"I'm from Jerusalem, actually, but yes, you're pretty much all correct. Except...you might say I'm not really Jewish anymore. When you live in a foreign country, sometimes changing religions can make a difference as to whether or not you survive. In my case, my family came here because of a siege in Jerusalem." It still made her uncomfortable to admit to anyone that she had been kidnapped and made a slave, but as far as what she was saying, it was true enough.
"I can see why you would be called The Oracle. Would you happen to have any plans to make a living doing that? Just out of curiosity," Nafretiri added. She had never considered it before, but now she wondered if Hathor had an oracle. "I'm sure that if you wanted to, there are temples where you would find your gift in great demand."
As they walked along, Nafretiri sneaked a few tentative peeks at the richer houses as well. It still made her nervous to think of the time she had been a slave and worry about whether someone around here would recognize her, but with another person with her. maybe she would be relatively unnoticed. Two people walking together seemed to be more accepted, where one person walking alone might be seen as suspicious.
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Nafretiri was a little floored by how accurate Neena's guesses were. Was Nafretiri that obvious?
"I'm from Jerusalem, actually, but yes, you're pretty much all correct. Except...you might say I'm not really Jewish anymore. When you live in a foreign country, sometimes changing religions can make a difference as to whether or not you survive. In my case, my family came here because of a siege in Jerusalem." It still made her uncomfortable to admit to anyone that she had been kidnapped and made a slave, but as far as what she was saying, it was true enough.
"I can see why you would be called The Oracle. Would you happen to have any plans to make a living doing that? Just out of curiosity," Nafretiri added. She had never considered it before, but now she wondered if Hathor had an oracle. "I'm sure that if you wanted to, there are temples where you would find your gift in great demand."
As they walked along, Nafretiri sneaked a few tentative peeks at the richer houses as well. It still made her nervous to think of the time she had been a slave and worry about whether someone around here would recognize her, but with another person with her. maybe she would be relatively unnoticed. Two people walking together seemed to be more accepted, where one person walking alone might be seen as suspicious.
Nafretiri was a little floored by how accurate Neena's guesses were. Was Nafretiri that obvious?
"I'm from Jerusalem, actually, but yes, you're pretty much all correct. Except...you might say I'm not really Jewish anymore. When you live in a foreign country, sometimes changing religions can make a difference as to whether or not you survive. In my case, my family came here because of a siege in Jerusalem." It still made her uncomfortable to admit to anyone that she had been kidnapped and made a slave, but as far as what she was saying, it was true enough.
"I can see why you would be called The Oracle. Would you happen to have any plans to make a living doing that? Just out of curiosity," Nafretiri added. She had never considered it before, but now she wondered if Hathor had an oracle. "I'm sure that if you wanted to, there are temples where you would find your gift in great demand."
As they walked along, Nafretiri sneaked a few tentative peeks at the richer houses as well. It still made her nervous to think of the time she had been a slave and worry about whether someone around here would recognize her, but with another person with her. maybe she would be relatively unnoticed. Two people walking together seemed to be more accepted, where one person walking alone might be seen as suspicious.
“Aw, damnit.” The words left Neena’s lips without malice or issue but were simply accompanied by the clicking of her fingers as she swung her hand around in frustration that she had gotten the woman’s home province wrong. “Well, I was close enough I suppose.” She offered with a dismissive wave of her hand of where her logic had failed her.
The woman beside her spoke of her home with clearly a tentative tone. When she mentioned the raid of Jerusalem, Neena suspected that it had not been an easy time for her and she was surprised the lady opened up to her to speak on the subject. That being said, Neena had often found that people chatted with her quite pleasantly. Whether it was due to her natural charm as an individual or because it was easier for many people to converse with a complete stranger than admit their concerns and worries to someone their cared for, wanted the respect of, or feared, Neena had no idea. Either way, she was often privy to the inner workings of strangers’ minds or to their tales and stories of their pasts. It was part of what Neena loved about travelling and meeting new people – the opportunity to learn new tales of life and what people wanted from them. She might not have any deep or long-term relationships with people, but she held within her a far broader understanding of people in general, thanks to wide and expansive meetings with those of all kinds of walks of life.
“I’m sorry to hear about your difficulties.” Neena offered the priestess in a rare moment of sobriety for her, before her tone suddenly picked up, her pitch increasing and her natural optimism coming back into her choice of words. “Perhaps such hardships can be seen as a blessing in disguise…” She glanced over at the woman walking beside her, wrapping her cloak around her arms to keep her hands warm. “You seem content here in Egypt, and at the temple.” She eyed the little girl in Nafretiri’s arms with a little nod of her head. “And your little one will grow up with the knowledge and heritage of two kingdoms.” She gave a slight shrug and looked out across the street once more. “I can’t say that sounds too bad to me.”
When the young woman suggested that Neena make a living out of being an Oracle, Neena cracked a smile and offered a soft bark of laughter that seen to catch the little girl’s attention for a moment.
“Oh, I have done so before.” Neena commented with a sidelong look at her companion and a nonchalant half shrug. “I can’t claim I did so on behalf of any God though.” She tagged on the end, fully admitting and holding no concern for the fact that she was openly admitting to blasphemy to a priestess. Then again, the woman had already witnessed her stealing an offering from the temple. So, perhaps she was not such a strict and fuddy-duddy priestess as some of the others…
In between her speeches and answers to the woman’s questions, Neena entertained herself as they walked. To the children or stared and pointed at Neena’s skin or hair and the elements of her person that were clearly from her Bedoan heritage, Neena pressed a finger to her nose, and stuck out her tongue. Or she turned her hands into claws and made a scary face. To the beggars and the homeless on the street, she offered soft smiles, touched their outstretched hands occasionally – though she had nothing to give them financially, sometimes human contact was also appreciated – and generally made an impression on every third person or so that they passed, remembering to look back occasionally at the little girl the priestess carried and sharing such expressions with her too so as not to have her grow bored or tetchy.
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“Aw, damnit.” The words left Neena’s lips without malice or issue but were simply accompanied by the clicking of her fingers as she swung her hand around in frustration that she had gotten the woman’s home province wrong. “Well, I was close enough I suppose.” She offered with a dismissive wave of her hand of where her logic had failed her.
The woman beside her spoke of her home with clearly a tentative tone. When she mentioned the raid of Jerusalem, Neena suspected that it had not been an easy time for her and she was surprised the lady opened up to her to speak on the subject. That being said, Neena had often found that people chatted with her quite pleasantly. Whether it was due to her natural charm as an individual or because it was easier for many people to converse with a complete stranger than admit their concerns and worries to someone their cared for, wanted the respect of, or feared, Neena had no idea. Either way, she was often privy to the inner workings of strangers’ minds or to their tales and stories of their pasts. It was part of what Neena loved about travelling and meeting new people – the opportunity to learn new tales of life and what people wanted from them. She might not have any deep or long-term relationships with people, but she held within her a far broader understanding of people in general, thanks to wide and expansive meetings with those of all kinds of walks of life.
“I’m sorry to hear about your difficulties.” Neena offered the priestess in a rare moment of sobriety for her, before her tone suddenly picked up, her pitch increasing and her natural optimism coming back into her choice of words. “Perhaps such hardships can be seen as a blessing in disguise…” She glanced over at the woman walking beside her, wrapping her cloak around her arms to keep her hands warm. “You seem content here in Egypt, and at the temple.” She eyed the little girl in Nafretiri’s arms with a little nod of her head. “And your little one will grow up with the knowledge and heritage of two kingdoms.” She gave a slight shrug and looked out across the street once more. “I can’t say that sounds too bad to me.”
When the young woman suggested that Neena make a living out of being an Oracle, Neena cracked a smile and offered a soft bark of laughter that seen to catch the little girl’s attention for a moment.
“Oh, I have done so before.” Neena commented with a sidelong look at her companion and a nonchalant half shrug. “I can’t claim I did so on behalf of any God though.” She tagged on the end, fully admitting and holding no concern for the fact that she was openly admitting to blasphemy to a priestess. Then again, the woman had already witnessed her stealing an offering from the temple. So, perhaps she was not such a strict and fuddy-duddy priestess as some of the others…
In between her speeches and answers to the woman’s questions, Neena entertained herself as they walked. To the children or stared and pointed at Neena’s skin or hair and the elements of her person that were clearly from her Bedoan heritage, Neena pressed a finger to her nose, and stuck out her tongue. Or she turned her hands into claws and made a scary face. To the beggars and the homeless on the street, she offered soft smiles, touched their outstretched hands occasionally – though she had nothing to give them financially, sometimes human contact was also appreciated – and generally made an impression on every third person or so that they passed, remembering to look back occasionally at the little girl the priestess carried and sharing such expressions with her too so as not to have her grow bored or tetchy.
“Aw, damnit.” The words left Neena’s lips without malice or issue but were simply accompanied by the clicking of her fingers as she swung her hand around in frustration that she had gotten the woman’s home province wrong. “Well, I was close enough I suppose.” She offered with a dismissive wave of her hand of where her logic had failed her.
The woman beside her spoke of her home with clearly a tentative tone. When she mentioned the raid of Jerusalem, Neena suspected that it had not been an easy time for her and she was surprised the lady opened up to her to speak on the subject. That being said, Neena had often found that people chatted with her quite pleasantly. Whether it was due to her natural charm as an individual or because it was easier for many people to converse with a complete stranger than admit their concerns and worries to someone their cared for, wanted the respect of, or feared, Neena had no idea. Either way, she was often privy to the inner workings of strangers’ minds or to their tales and stories of their pasts. It was part of what Neena loved about travelling and meeting new people – the opportunity to learn new tales of life and what people wanted from them. She might not have any deep or long-term relationships with people, but she held within her a far broader understanding of people in general, thanks to wide and expansive meetings with those of all kinds of walks of life.
“I’m sorry to hear about your difficulties.” Neena offered the priestess in a rare moment of sobriety for her, before her tone suddenly picked up, her pitch increasing and her natural optimism coming back into her choice of words. “Perhaps such hardships can be seen as a blessing in disguise…” She glanced over at the woman walking beside her, wrapping her cloak around her arms to keep her hands warm. “You seem content here in Egypt, and at the temple.” She eyed the little girl in Nafretiri’s arms with a little nod of her head. “And your little one will grow up with the knowledge and heritage of two kingdoms.” She gave a slight shrug and looked out across the street once more. “I can’t say that sounds too bad to me.”
When the young woman suggested that Neena make a living out of being an Oracle, Neena cracked a smile and offered a soft bark of laughter that seen to catch the little girl’s attention for a moment.
“Oh, I have done so before.” Neena commented with a sidelong look at her companion and a nonchalant half shrug. “I can’t claim I did so on behalf of any God though.” She tagged on the end, fully admitting and holding no concern for the fact that she was openly admitting to blasphemy to a priestess. Then again, the woman had already witnessed her stealing an offering from the temple. So, perhaps she was not such a strict and fuddy-duddy priestess as some of the others…
In between her speeches and answers to the woman’s questions, Neena entertained herself as they walked. To the children or stared and pointed at Neena’s skin or hair and the elements of her person that were clearly from her Bedoan heritage, Neena pressed a finger to her nose, and stuck out her tongue. Or she turned her hands into claws and made a scary face. To the beggars and the homeless on the street, she offered soft smiles, touched their outstretched hands occasionally – though she had nothing to give them financially, sometimes human contact was also appreciated – and generally made an impression on every third person or so that they passed, remembering to look back occasionally at the little girl the priestess carried and sharing such expressions with her too so as not to have her grow bored or tetchy.
Nafretiri lowered her head in acknowledgement of Neena's sympathy, and nodded in thanks. Then, she adjusted Aneksi on her hip before venturing another question related to her other one. "Some temples, though, might pay you. I-I mean, I've heard of it, that is. The unscrupulous kind of priest or priestess might do anything to get hold of people's money in the name of the gods. I just wondered if you'd thought of asking." Then she blushed, realizing that Neena might think she knew more than she actually did about that sort of thing from the way her words had come out.
"Not that I know any priests or priestesses like that- not personally," she hastened to explain. "But they do exist, I'm sure. And if you might benefit... why not?"
Nafretiri prayed that the gods would forgive her if she had made it seem like she was conspiring against them. Taking people's money in the name of the gods happened, but that didn't mean it should. Still, she was already beginning to like Neena, and she hoped she would be all right. Aneksi clearly liked Neena as well, because every time the girl smiled at her, Aneksi would smile back, like it was some sort of game. Nafretiri smiled a little herself, wondering if Neena might not mind a sort of position as a semi-permanent baby-sitter. Not forever- Neena probably didn't want to stay in one place for very long, if Nafretiri was guessing correctly, but it might be nice to have someone else to watch her daughter if a ceremony were to require any of the current ones doing so to be present.
"You're good with children," Nafretiri commented, even though it seemed that the two subjects weren't related at all. Still, she had to say it, because watching Neena with Aneksi made her smile. She wanted to ask if Neena wanted her own children some day, but was aware that not all women were comfortable with being asked that question. And for that matter, Nafretiri didn't even know that she herself would have other children, though she'd love to have them. Those things, it seemed,happened only with her correct alignment of the stars and planets, as did meeting a man who might treat her with respect, let alone love and admiration.
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Nafretiri lowered her head in acknowledgement of Neena's sympathy, and nodded in thanks. Then, she adjusted Aneksi on her hip before venturing another question related to her other one. "Some temples, though, might pay you. I-I mean, I've heard of it, that is. The unscrupulous kind of priest or priestess might do anything to get hold of people's money in the name of the gods. I just wondered if you'd thought of asking." Then she blushed, realizing that Neena might think she knew more than she actually did about that sort of thing from the way her words had come out.
"Not that I know any priests or priestesses like that- not personally," she hastened to explain. "But they do exist, I'm sure. And if you might benefit... why not?"
Nafretiri prayed that the gods would forgive her if she had made it seem like she was conspiring against them. Taking people's money in the name of the gods happened, but that didn't mean it should. Still, she was already beginning to like Neena, and she hoped she would be all right. Aneksi clearly liked Neena as well, because every time the girl smiled at her, Aneksi would smile back, like it was some sort of game. Nafretiri smiled a little herself, wondering if Neena might not mind a sort of position as a semi-permanent baby-sitter. Not forever- Neena probably didn't want to stay in one place for very long, if Nafretiri was guessing correctly, but it might be nice to have someone else to watch her daughter if a ceremony were to require any of the current ones doing so to be present.
"You're good with children," Nafretiri commented, even though it seemed that the two subjects weren't related at all. Still, she had to say it, because watching Neena with Aneksi made her smile. She wanted to ask if Neena wanted her own children some day, but was aware that not all women were comfortable with being asked that question. And for that matter, Nafretiri didn't even know that she herself would have other children, though she'd love to have them. Those things, it seemed,happened only with her correct alignment of the stars and planets, as did meeting a man who might treat her with respect, let alone love and admiration.
Nafretiri lowered her head in acknowledgement of Neena's sympathy, and nodded in thanks. Then, she adjusted Aneksi on her hip before venturing another question related to her other one. "Some temples, though, might pay you. I-I mean, I've heard of it, that is. The unscrupulous kind of priest or priestess might do anything to get hold of people's money in the name of the gods. I just wondered if you'd thought of asking." Then she blushed, realizing that Neena might think she knew more than she actually did about that sort of thing from the way her words had come out.
"Not that I know any priests or priestesses like that- not personally," she hastened to explain. "But they do exist, I'm sure. And if you might benefit... why not?"
Nafretiri prayed that the gods would forgive her if she had made it seem like she was conspiring against them. Taking people's money in the name of the gods happened, but that didn't mean it should. Still, she was already beginning to like Neena, and she hoped she would be all right. Aneksi clearly liked Neena as well, because every time the girl smiled at her, Aneksi would smile back, like it was some sort of game. Nafretiri smiled a little herself, wondering if Neena might not mind a sort of position as a semi-permanent baby-sitter. Not forever- Neena probably didn't want to stay in one place for very long, if Nafretiri was guessing correctly, but it might be nice to have someone else to watch her daughter if a ceremony were to require any of the current ones doing so to be present.
"You're good with children," Nafretiri commented, even though it seemed that the two subjects weren't related at all. Still, she had to say it, because watching Neena with Aneksi made her smile. She wanted to ask if Neena wanted her own children some day, but was aware that not all women were comfortable with being asked that question. And for that matter, Nafretiri didn't even know that she herself would have other children, though she'd love to have them. Those things, it seemed,happened only with her correct alignment of the stars and planets, as did meeting a man who might treat her with respect, let alone love and admiration.
Neena laughed when Nafretiri suggested that she be some kind of Oracle for a temple for the sake of a salary and wage. She liked the idea that the woman seemed to like her enough to try and offer her advice to make her life a little easier, but she also couldn't agree to such an offer all the same.
"Nah." She said with a smile. "I'm not really in touch with any Gods, spirits or otherwise." She shrugged. "So, I would feel like I was lying to people. I don't mind the occasionally trick or game but people go to temple for important reasons. And I don't want to get in the way of that." Even if, as an agnostic, Neena didn't share such ideals, she could still respect that others held them and not take advantage of that. For all she knew, Gods and ancestors and spirits and all other ethereal or divine beings that people believed in, were indeed real and she would be cock-blocking those who wanted access to a real faith or prayer line.
Continuing to smile and play silent games with the little girl as the three of them walked together, Neena wasn't surprised when Nafretiri commented on her being good with children. But she was surprised at the guttural reaction she had to the question.
Normally, Neena was the most open individual one might ever meet. She held no secrets and was an open book happy to discuss anything people might wish to. She held no shame in her life and loved honesty above everything else. And yet, she had never been a traveller with the kind of history that she now had behind her either.
Memories of others who had thought she was good with children, that she might make a good mother, sprang to mind, opening up a feeling of grief and loss that she wasn't able to ignore in time. It rolled through her for a moment before she could shut it back up into a private little corner of her mind, stealing her smile as it went and turning her gaze sad for just a moment. Neena was one to wear her emotions on her face - whether she wanted to or not.
Before she could let her feelings manifest into words, however, Neena gave herself a physical and mental shake and her smile was back, brighter than ever.
"You're not the first person to say that. And I like the nice ones." She added, grinning down at Aneksi and reaching out to cluck at her baby puffed cheek with the curl of her finger. "The noisy ones are a little chewy." She added with a laugh.
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Jan 27, 2020 19:10:43 GMT
Posted In If Needs Must on Jan 27, 2020 19:10:43 GMT
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Neena laughed when Nafretiri suggested that she be some kind of Oracle for a temple for the sake of a salary and wage. She liked the idea that the woman seemed to like her enough to try and offer her advice to make her life a little easier, but she also couldn't agree to such an offer all the same.
"Nah." She said with a smile. "I'm not really in touch with any Gods, spirits or otherwise." She shrugged. "So, I would feel like I was lying to people. I don't mind the occasionally trick or game but people go to temple for important reasons. And I don't want to get in the way of that." Even if, as an agnostic, Neena didn't share such ideals, she could still respect that others held them and not take advantage of that. For all she knew, Gods and ancestors and spirits and all other ethereal or divine beings that people believed in, were indeed real and she would be cock-blocking those who wanted access to a real faith or prayer line.
Continuing to smile and play silent games with the little girl as the three of them walked together, Neena wasn't surprised when Nafretiri commented on her being good with children. But she was surprised at the guttural reaction she had to the question.
Normally, Neena was the most open individual one might ever meet. She held no secrets and was an open book happy to discuss anything people might wish to. She held no shame in her life and loved honesty above everything else. And yet, she had never been a traveller with the kind of history that she now had behind her either.
Memories of others who had thought she was good with children, that she might make a good mother, sprang to mind, opening up a feeling of grief and loss that she wasn't able to ignore in time. It rolled through her for a moment before she could shut it back up into a private little corner of her mind, stealing her smile as it went and turning her gaze sad for just a moment. Neena was one to wear her emotions on her face - whether she wanted to or not.
Before she could let her feelings manifest into words, however, Neena gave herself a physical and mental shake and her smile was back, brighter than ever.
"You're not the first person to say that. And I like the nice ones." She added, grinning down at Aneksi and reaching out to cluck at her baby puffed cheek with the curl of her finger. "The noisy ones are a little chewy." She added with a laugh.
Neena laughed when Nafretiri suggested that she be some kind of Oracle for a temple for the sake of a salary and wage. She liked the idea that the woman seemed to like her enough to try and offer her advice to make her life a little easier, but she also couldn't agree to such an offer all the same.
"Nah." She said with a smile. "I'm not really in touch with any Gods, spirits or otherwise." She shrugged. "So, I would feel like I was lying to people. I don't mind the occasionally trick or game but people go to temple for important reasons. And I don't want to get in the way of that." Even if, as an agnostic, Neena didn't share such ideals, she could still respect that others held them and not take advantage of that. For all she knew, Gods and ancestors and spirits and all other ethereal or divine beings that people believed in, were indeed real and she would be cock-blocking those who wanted access to a real faith or prayer line.
Continuing to smile and play silent games with the little girl as the three of them walked together, Neena wasn't surprised when Nafretiri commented on her being good with children. But she was surprised at the guttural reaction she had to the question.
Normally, Neena was the most open individual one might ever meet. She held no secrets and was an open book happy to discuss anything people might wish to. She held no shame in her life and loved honesty above everything else. And yet, she had never been a traveller with the kind of history that she now had behind her either.
Memories of others who had thought she was good with children, that she might make a good mother, sprang to mind, opening up a feeling of grief and loss that she wasn't able to ignore in time. It rolled through her for a moment before she could shut it back up into a private little corner of her mind, stealing her smile as it went and turning her gaze sad for just a moment. Neena was one to wear her emotions on her face - whether she wanted to or not.
Before she could let her feelings manifest into words, however, Neena gave herself a physical and mental shake and her smile was back, brighter than ever.
"You're not the first person to say that. And I like the nice ones." She added, grinning down at Aneksi and reaching out to cluck at her baby puffed cheek with the curl of her finger. "The noisy ones are a little chewy." She added with a laugh.