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He thought he was so clever. Harsiseis watched a moment longer as the flames around the temple licked higher, his gaze narrowing and then he drew a finger across the waters of the pool he looked into and the visions of the world below smudged into gentle ripples. His temper burned hot as the fire he watched and he smacked his palm across the surface instead so that the vision shattered.
The disrespect.
Part of him was tempted to go storming down into his father’s realm, to draw attention to what the ingrate had done now, but he knew he’d be met with only irritating calm. Horus did not want calm, he wanted his uncle to answer for his crimes. He could take his case to Ra once more, because why should anyone bear the insult that Set offered time and time again, but that too would be repeating himself.
The vast expanse of sky above him, once a serene and tranquil blue, darkened with his mood. Gathering clouds rolled brooding and grey, threatening a storm. It was always the way, his feelings painted across the canvas above him in careless sweeps, changeable. Mostly, he tried to contain them to the underworld at least though sometimes his temper would spill over into the mortal realm. It was not considered seemly but Horus cared not. Let his displeasure be known. He was not to blame for it after all.
Casting a fierce look up above him,Horus breathed in and out. Why let his idiot Uncle ruin his environment? If the fool wanted attention then perhaps he would bestow it upon him, and visit upon him in his own gloomy dominion. Harsiseis tried to minimise his time spent in the Duat of the god of chaos, it felt claustrophobic, and always a little too warm. Horus preferred his light and space and the ever-present zephyr that rushed through his duat. But even that was being spoiled by the dratted existence of Set, and so the god of the sky curled his hands into fists, and his corporeal form dissolved into mist.
When he reappeared moments later in the familiar gloom of his Uncle’s residence, Horus glances around him with a hard, assessing gaze. He could not see the god but that meant little, and he did not have to raise his voice to ensure he would be heard.
“That was petty, even for you” he said, fingers tapping not quite absently along the hilt of the blade that was always at his hip. “You are like a child, only without any of the likeable qualities of one.”
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Dec 17, 2020 18:23:34 GMT
Posted In Petty Spite on Dec 17, 2020 18:23:34 GMT
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He thought he was so clever. Harsiseis watched a moment longer as the flames around the temple licked higher, his gaze narrowing and then he drew a finger across the waters of the pool he looked into and the visions of the world below smudged into gentle ripples. His temper burned hot as the fire he watched and he smacked his palm across the surface instead so that the vision shattered.
The disrespect.
Part of him was tempted to go storming down into his father’s realm, to draw attention to what the ingrate had done now, but he knew he’d be met with only irritating calm. Horus did not want calm, he wanted his uncle to answer for his crimes. He could take his case to Ra once more, because why should anyone bear the insult that Set offered time and time again, but that too would be repeating himself.
The vast expanse of sky above him, once a serene and tranquil blue, darkened with his mood. Gathering clouds rolled brooding and grey, threatening a storm. It was always the way, his feelings painted across the canvas above him in careless sweeps, changeable. Mostly, he tried to contain them to the underworld at least though sometimes his temper would spill over into the mortal realm. It was not considered seemly but Horus cared not. Let his displeasure be known. He was not to blame for it after all.
Casting a fierce look up above him,Horus breathed in and out. Why let his idiot Uncle ruin his environment? If the fool wanted attention then perhaps he would bestow it upon him, and visit upon him in his own gloomy dominion. Harsiseis tried to minimise his time spent in the Duat of the god of chaos, it felt claustrophobic, and always a little too warm. Horus preferred his light and space and the ever-present zephyr that rushed through his duat. But even that was being spoiled by the dratted existence of Set, and so the god of the sky curled his hands into fists, and his corporeal form dissolved into mist.
When he reappeared moments later in the familiar gloom of his Uncle’s residence, Horus glances around him with a hard, assessing gaze. He could not see the god but that meant little, and he did not have to raise his voice to ensure he would be heard.
“That was petty, even for you” he said, fingers tapping not quite absently along the hilt of the blade that was always at his hip. “You are like a child, only without any of the likeable qualities of one.”
He thought he was so clever. Harsiseis watched a moment longer as the flames around the temple licked higher, his gaze narrowing and then he drew a finger across the waters of the pool he looked into and the visions of the world below smudged into gentle ripples. His temper burned hot as the fire he watched and he smacked his palm across the surface instead so that the vision shattered.
The disrespect.
Part of him was tempted to go storming down into his father’s realm, to draw attention to what the ingrate had done now, but he knew he’d be met with only irritating calm. Horus did not want calm, he wanted his uncle to answer for his crimes. He could take his case to Ra once more, because why should anyone bear the insult that Set offered time and time again, but that too would be repeating himself.
The vast expanse of sky above him, once a serene and tranquil blue, darkened with his mood. Gathering clouds rolled brooding and grey, threatening a storm. It was always the way, his feelings painted across the canvas above him in careless sweeps, changeable. Mostly, he tried to contain them to the underworld at least though sometimes his temper would spill over into the mortal realm. It was not considered seemly but Horus cared not. Let his displeasure be known. He was not to blame for it after all.
Casting a fierce look up above him,Horus breathed in and out. Why let his idiot Uncle ruin his environment? If the fool wanted attention then perhaps he would bestow it upon him, and visit upon him in his own gloomy dominion. Harsiseis tried to minimise his time spent in the Duat of the god of chaos, it felt claustrophobic, and always a little too warm. Horus preferred his light and space and the ever-present zephyr that rushed through his duat. But even that was being spoiled by the dratted existence of Set, and so the god of the sky curled his hands into fists, and his corporeal form dissolved into mist.
When he reappeared moments later in the familiar gloom of his Uncle’s residence, Horus glances around him with a hard, assessing gaze. He could not see the god but that meant little, and he did not have to raise his voice to ensure he would be heard.
“That was petty, even for you” he said, fingers tapping not quite absently along the hilt of the blade that was always at his hip. “You are like a child, only without any of the likeable qualities of one.”
That was fun. Why stop there? There are more temples. Burn them all. Teach them who they should really worship.
The elements of chaos were chattering excitedly, one after another. Set watched the colors flash across his du’at, bright than would be normal. They too were excited, ever hungry for more. In one view he saw through the eyes of Akila, running as a plume of smoke rose into the air and in another view he watched the desperate priests (those that lived) try to put out the flame that gnawed at the cloth within the temple itself. How delightful.
Set said nothing to the chaos. This was only the beginning. War was quickly approaching. The sands were already shifting. There was no better way to cause mischief for the gods of both pantheons than through the unpredictability of battle and the violence of war. He could not w-
Someone is here. He is here. Horus. That was quick.
The god turned to mist, disappearing into the abyss of his Du’at as Horus appeared. He did not look for Set, but he knew he was there. Of course, he did. He tapped at his blade as if that would threaten Set. Set did not fear Horus… he just got fucking pissed off at the very sight of him.
Kill him like you did his father. Somehow I don’t think he’ll fall for the coffin. Chop him to pieces. Oh, how I want to. Make him suffer. That sounds like fun.
“Are there any likable qualities in children?” Set said as he rematerialized from the mist, standing on top of the shadowy water behind Horus. “I find them to be rather annoying, much like you really. Though you are less sticky than they are, so you have that going for you.”
Set did not stroke a blade, he felt no reason to. His stance was relaxed, casual even, though in actuality he was ready to move should Horus choose to strike. He knew why he was here, though why he would bother coming to Set’s du’at as if the God would feel any semblance of guilt for what he did was beyond him. If he wanted to fight though- well, Set would be more than happy to oblige.
But more entertaining right now would be pissing Horus off more than he already was. So a wide toothy grin appeared on the God’s face and he fingered his shifting tattoos, feeling the power pulsing beneath them. The buzzing that filled his domain got even louder. Like an annoying insect stuck in one’s ear, impossible to escape until it drove one mad. And the lights flashed brighter. Pink, blue, green, yellow streaked the sky as more and more Egyptians reacted to the news of the fire. But Set paid them no mind. His new plaything was right in front of him. “Favored nephew, what brings you here? Did you miss your dearest uncle? How heart warming.”
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Dec 17, 2020 19:19:54 GMT
Posted In Petty Spite on Dec 17, 2020 19:19:54 GMT
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That was fun. Why stop there? There are more temples. Burn them all. Teach them who they should really worship.
The elements of chaos were chattering excitedly, one after another. Set watched the colors flash across his du’at, bright than would be normal. They too were excited, ever hungry for more. In one view he saw through the eyes of Akila, running as a plume of smoke rose into the air and in another view he watched the desperate priests (those that lived) try to put out the flame that gnawed at the cloth within the temple itself. How delightful.
Set said nothing to the chaos. This was only the beginning. War was quickly approaching. The sands were already shifting. There was no better way to cause mischief for the gods of both pantheons than through the unpredictability of battle and the violence of war. He could not w-
Someone is here. He is here. Horus. That was quick.
The god turned to mist, disappearing into the abyss of his Du’at as Horus appeared. He did not look for Set, but he knew he was there. Of course, he did. He tapped at his blade as if that would threaten Set. Set did not fear Horus… he just got fucking pissed off at the very sight of him.
Kill him like you did his father. Somehow I don’t think he’ll fall for the coffin. Chop him to pieces. Oh, how I want to. Make him suffer. That sounds like fun.
“Are there any likable qualities in children?” Set said as he rematerialized from the mist, standing on top of the shadowy water behind Horus. “I find them to be rather annoying, much like you really. Though you are less sticky than they are, so you have that going for you.”
Set did not stroke a blade, he felt no reason to. His stance was relaxed, casual even, though in actuality he was ready to move should Horus choose to strike. He knew why he was here, though why he would bother coming to Set’s du’at as if the God would feel any semblance of guilt for what he did was beyond him. If he wanted to fight though- well, Set would be more than happy to oblige.
But more entertaining right now would be pissing Horus off more than he already was. So a wide toothy grin appeared on the God’s face and he fingered his shifting tattoos, feeling the power pulsing beneath them. The buzzing that filled his domain got even louder. Like an annoying insect stuck in one’s ear, impossible to escape until it drove one mad. And the lights flashed brighter. Pink, blue, green, yellow streaked the sky as more and more Egyptians reacted to the news of the fire. But Set paid them no mind. His new plaything was right in front of him. “Favored nephew, what brings you here? Did you miss your dearest uncle? How heart warming.”
That was fun. Why stop there? There are more temples. Burn them all. Teach them who they should really worship.
The elements of chaos were chattering excitedly, one after another. Set watched the colors flash across his du’at, bright than would be normal. They too were excited, ever hungry for more. In one view he saw through the eyes of Akila, running as a plume of smoke rose into the air and in another view he watched the desperate priests (those that lived) try to put out the flame that gnawed at the cloth within the temple itself. How delightful.
Set said nothing to the chaos. This was only the beginning. War was quickly approaching. The sands were already shifting. There was no better way to cause mischief for the gods of both pantheons than through the unpredictability of battle and the violence of war. He could not w-
Someone is here. He is here. Horus. That was quick.
The god turned to mist, disappearing into the abyss of his Du’at as Horus appeared. He did not look for Set, but he knew he was there. Of course, he did. He tapped at his blade as if that would threaten Set. Set did not fear Horus… he just got fucking pissed off at the very sight of him.
Kill him like you did his father. Somehow I don’t think he’ll fall for the coffin. Chop him to pieces. Oh, how I want to. Make him suffer. That sounds like fun.
“Are there any likable qualities in children?” Set said as he rematerialized from the mist, standing on top of the shadowy water behind Horus. “I find them to be rather annoying, much like you really. Though you are less sticky than they are, so you have that going for you.”
Set did not stroke a blade, he felt no reason to. His stance was relaxed, casual even, though in actuality he was ready to move should Horus choose to strike. He knew why he was here, though why he would bother coming to Set’s du’at as if the God would feel any semblance of guilt for what he did was beyond him. If he wanted to fight though- well, Set would be more than happy to oblige.
But more entertaining right now would be pissing Horus off more than he already was. So a wide toothy grin appeared on the God’s face and he fingered his shifting tattoos, feeling the power pulsing beneath them. The buzzing that filled his domain got even louder. Like an annoying insect stuck in one’s ear, impossible to escape until it drove one mad. And the lights flashed brighter. Pink, blue, green, yellow streaked the sky as more and more Egyptians reacted to the news of the fire. But Set paid them no mind. His new plaything was right in front of him. “Favored nephew, what brings you here? Did you miss your dearest uncle? How heart warming.”
He felt the crackle of the other god’s energy before he heard him, and Harsiseis did not turn immediately when his uncle’s voice sounded from behind him. There was a dry breath of a laugh, dismissive, at the feeble insult. Indeed, Horus would not even take it as an insult. If he annoyed Set? Well good. It was only a speck of what the god deserved.
His fingers twitched again, tapping out their staccato rhythm on the familiar hilt of that blade, but it was not done to menace, just habit. An outlet for the urge he had to wrap his hands around his uncle’s neck and squeeze. Because much as he would like to do it, it had been made clear that his fellow immortals would not approve. Even his own father, the one who died at the hands of this foolish showman of a god, would not entertain the idea of Horus’ repaying him in kind. It was beyond frustrating.
He knew the buzzing in his ears was some trickery of his uncle, and the younger god rolled his shoulders as he turned slowly to look upon Set, the piercing, unforgiving blue gaze settling upon the other with a disdain he didn’t bother to temper.
‘Favored nephew, what brings you here? Did you miss your dearest uncle? How heart warming’
At that, Harsiseis rolled his eyes to the murky expanse above them. “ Easier to accept if I believed you in possession of such a thing, Set” he said dismissively. “ Have you really nothing better to do than to set fires?”
Of course he knew the answer. The god of Chaos used that as his excuse for everything, its nonsensical nature infuriating Horus as much as the indulgence the other gods permitted the actions did. He wasn’t sure why he had bothered to come; perhaps to remind Set that whilst his father seemed content to let such insults slide, that Horus was not he. For a moment, he considered reaching up a hand and fisting it in the colour-flashed tapestry overheard, tearing it down with his divine power. Because he could. Because it would make him feel better. Or he could set a fire of his own, here. A righteous fire, white-hot and dazzling that would consume this sad plane of existence that his uncle called home.
Both ideas were gratifying, and for a moment he indulged in the imagining of them, lips curling into a smile at the thought. But whilst it would be a wonderful, heady feeling to pursue such wants, the God of the Sky liked to credit himself with a little more control than that.
“There will be war soon enough. Can you not for once do something useful and focus your attention there? Even now, their people set foot on our shores. And you are burning temples”
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Dec 21, 2020 12:01:57 GMT
Posted In Petty Spite on Dec 21, 2020 12:01:57 GMT
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He felt the crackle of the other god’s energy before he heard him, and Harsiseis did not turn immediately when his uncle’s voice sounded from behind him. There was a dry breath of a laugh, dismissive, at the feeble insult. Indeed, Horus would not even take it as an insult. If he annoyed Set? Well good. It was only a speck of what the god deserved.
His fingers twitched again, tapping out their staccato rhythm on the familiar hilt of that blade, but it was not done to menace, just habit. An outlet for the urge he had to wrap his hands around his uncle’s neck and squeeze. Because much as he would like to do it, it had been made clear that his fellow immortals would not approve. Even his own father, the one who died at the hands of this foolish showman of a god, would not entertain the idea of Horus’ repaying him in kind. It was beyond frustrating.
He knew the buzzing in his ears was some trickery of his uncle, and the younger god rolled his shoulders as he turned slowly to look upon Set, the piercing, unforgiving blue gaze settling upon the other with a disdain he didn’t bother to temper.
‘Favored nephew, what brings you here? Did you miss your dearest uncle? How heart warming’
At that, Harsiseis rolled his eyes to the murky expanse above them. “ Easier to accept if I believed you in possession of such a thing, Set” he said dismissively. “ Have you really nothing better to do than to set fires?”
Of course he knew the answer. The god of Chaos used that as his excuse for everything, its nonsensical nature infuriating Horus as much as the indulgence the other gods permitted the actions did. He wasn’t sure why he had bothered to come; perhaps to remind Set that whilst his father seemed content to let such insults slide, that Horus was not he. For a moment, he considered reaching up a hand and fisting it in the colour-flashed tapestry overheard, tearing it down with his divine power. Because he could. Because it would make him feel better. Or he could set a fire of his own, here. A righteous fire, white-hot and dazzling that would consume this sad plane of existence that his uncle called home.
Both ideas were gratifying, and for a moment he indulged in the imagining of them, lips curling into a smile at the thought. But whilst it would be a wonderful, heady feeling to pursue such wants, the God of the Sky liked to credit himself with a little more control than that.
“There will be war soon enough. Can you not for once do something useful and focus your attention there? Even now, their people set foot on our shores. And you are burning temples”
He felt the crackle of the other god’s energy before he heard him, and Harsiseis did not turn immediately when his uncle’s voice sounded from behind him. There was a dry breath of a laugh, dismissive, at the feeble insult. Indeed, Horus would not even take it as an insult. If he annoyed Set? Well good. It was only a speck of what the god deserved.
His fingers twitched again, tapping out their staccato rhythm on the familiar hilt of that blade, but it was not done to menace, just habit. An outlet for the urge he had to wrap his hands around his uncle’s neck and squeeze. Because much as he would like to do it, it had been made clear that his fellow immortals would not approve. Even his own father, the one who died at the hands of this foolish showman of a god, would not entertain the idea of Horus’ repaying him in kind. It was beyond frustrating.
He knew the buzzing in his ears was some trickery of his uncle, and the younger god rolled his shoulders as he turned slowly to look upon Set, the piercing, unforgiving blue gaze settling upon the other with a disdain he didn’t bother to temper.
‘Favored nephew, what brings you here? Did you miss your dearest uncle? How heart warming’
At that, Harsiseis rolled his eyes to the murky expanse above them. “ Easier to accept if I believed you in possession of such a thing, Set” he said dismissively. “ Have you really nothing better to do than to set fires?”
Of course he knew the answer. The god of Chaos used that as his excuse for everything, its nonsensical nature infuriating Horus as much as the indulgence the other gods permitted the actions did. He wasn’t sure why he had bothered to come; perhaps to remind Set that whilst his father seemed content to let such insults slide, that Horus was not he. For a moment, he considered reaching up a hand and fisting it in the colour-flashed tapestry overheard, tearing it down with his divine power. Because he could. Because it would make him feel better. Or he could set a fire of his own, here. A righteous fire, white-hot and dazzling that would consume this sad plane of existence that his uncle called home.
Both ideas were gratifying, and for a moment he indulged in the imagining of them, lips curling into a smile at the thought. But whilst it would be a wonderful, heady feeling to pursue such wants, the God of the Sky liked to credit himself with a little more control than that.
“There will be war soon enough. Can you not for once do something useful and focus your attention there? Even now, their people set foot on our shores. And you are burning temples”
Set cared as much about their people as he did his own- which is to say not at all. Mortals were mortals, whether they were Egyptians or otherwise. They were all toys- beings for his entertainment and nothing else. The only difference was the Greeks worshiped lesser gods, but so did Egyptians that did not send their prayers to him.
The whispers in his domain grew louder as the elements of chaos all had something to say to the sky god. To come to his domain and look down upon the very thing that Set is- to scoff at his fire was insulting when it should be seen as a gift to the people of Egypt; A respite from normalcy and complacency. Set knew his place as a disrupter, as an enemy of peace. Horus, evidently, did not. The sky god should be seen and not heard.
Those people deserved it. They didn’t even think to pray to you- only your brother. A dead man deserves no prayers. The weak deserve no prayers. Shut it.
The smile never faded from Set’s lips. Horus’s words did not phase him- they never did. He was akin to the mortals. Horus was petulant like their children, and not worth Set’s attention… except for the fact that pissing him off was certainly entertaining.
“My mind is not like your’s, nephew. It is not so narrow that I must look at one thing at a time.” Set’s tattoos shifted and glowed as the colors in the sky grew brighter and closer until they meshed. On one side it showed the fire as it continued to burn, growing brighter still, and the other the Greeks as they continued to sail across the ocean. But Set’s eyes? They remained on his nephew and only him.
“I have plans for the war, don’t you worry.” And so Set did. War was Sekhmet’s domain, but Set’s had a part in it too. Violence, death, they were all elements of chaos. And chaos knew no bounds. Of course Set looked towards the war and the ships heading towards his lands. Especially because this one would be different. The last one was ten years ago, barely any time at all. Set thirsted for something different. Even if it pissed off the Egyptian pantheon, Set intended to throw a wrench in their plans at the earliest opportunity. And he had the perfect persona to do just that.
“Now, shouldn’t you be getting back to whatever you do as Sky God? Sit there and look pretty?” Set clicked his tongue and tilted his head to the side, the false smile completely faded from his face. He had no interest in entertaining Horus as he threw his little tantrum. Set had more important things to concern himself than the likes of him.
You could still kill him. Horus might beat him. What the fuck did you just say? He’s powe- SHUT UP!
Thunder struck and the whispers that were buzzing quite loudly faded to near silence. Quiet, soft, but chaos could never be truly quelled. Quiteted, but never silenced.
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Set cared as much about their people as he did his own- which is to say not at all. Mortals were mortals, whether they were Egyptians or otherwise. They were all toys- beings for his entertainment and nothing else. The only difference was the Greeks worshiped lesser gods, but so did Egyptians that did not send their prayers to him.
The whispers in his domain grew louder as the elements of chaos all had something to say to the sky god. To come to his domain and look down upon the very thing that Set is- to scoff at his fire was insulting when it should be seen as a gift to the people of Egypt; A respite from normalcy and complacency. Set knew his place as a disrupter, as an enemy of peace. Horus, evidently, did not. The sky god should be seen and not heard.
Those people deserved it. They didn’t even think to pray to you- only your brother. A dead man deserves no prayers. The weak deserve no prayers. Shut it.
The smile never faded from Set’s lips. Horus’s words did not phase him- they never did. He was akin to the mortals. Horus was petulant like their children, and not worth Set’s attention… except for the fact that pissing him off was certainly entertaining.
“My mind is not like your’s, nephew. It is not so narrow that I must look at one thing at a time.” Set’s tattoos shifted and glowed as the colors in the sky grew brighter and closer until they meshed. On one side it showed the fire as it continued to burn, growing brighter still, and the other the Greeks as they continued to sail across the ocean. But Set’s eyes? They remained on his nephew and only him.
“I have plans for the war, don’t you worry.” And so Set did. War was Sekhmet’s domain, but Set’s had a part in it too. Violence, death, they were all elements of chaos. And chaos knew no bounds. Of course Set looked towards the war and the ships heading towards his lands. Especially because this one would be different. The last one was ten years ago, barely any time at all. Set thirsted for something different. Even if it pissed off the Egyptian pantheon, Set intended to throw a wrench in their plans at the earliest opportunity. And he had the perfect persona to do just that.
“Now, shouldn’t you be getting back to whatever you do as Sky God? Sit there and look pretty?” Set clicked his tongue and tilted his head to the side, the false smile completely faded from his face. He had no interest in entertaining Horus as he threw his little tantrum. Set had more important things to concern himself than the likes of him.
You could still kill him. Horus might beat him. What the fuck did you just say? He’s powe- SHUT UP!
Thunder struck and the whispers that were buzzing quite loudly faded to near silence. Quiet, soft, but chaos could never be truly quelled. Quiteted, but never silenced.
Set cared as much about their people as he did his own- which is to say not at all. Mortals were mortals, whether they were Egyptians or otherwise. They were all toys- beings for his entertainment and nothing else. The only difference was the Greeks worshiped lesser gods, but so did Egyptians that did not send their prayers to him.
The whispers in his domain grew louder as the elements of chaos all had something to say to the sky god. To come to his domain and look down upon the very thing that Set is- to scoff at his fire was insulting when it should be seen as a gift to the people of Egypt; A respite from normalcy and complacency. Set knew his place as a disrupter, as an enemy of peace. Horus, evidently, did not. The sky god should be seen and not heard.
Those people deserved it. They didn’t even think to pray to you- only your brother. A dead man deserves no prayers. The weak deserve no prayers. Shut it.
The smile never faded from Set’s lips. Horus’s words did not phase him- they never did. He was akin to the mortals. Horus was petulant like their children, and not worth Set’s attention… except for the fact that pissing him off was certainly entertaining.
“My mind is not like your’s, nephew. It is not so narrow that I must look at one thing at a time.” Set’s tattoos shifted and glowed as the colors in the sky grew brighter and closer until they meshed. On one side it showed the fire as it continued to burn, growing brighter still, and the other the Greeks as they continued to sail across the ocean. But Set’s eyes? They remained on his nephew and only him.
“I have plans for the war, don’t you worry.” And so Set did. War was Sekhmet’s domain, but Set’s had a part in it too. Violence, death, they were all elements of chaos. And chaos knew no bounds. Of course Set looked towards the war and the ships heading towards his lands. Especially because this one would be different. The last one was ten years ago, barely any time at all. Set thirsted for something different. Even if it pissed off the Egyptian pantheon, Set intended to throw a wrench in their plans at the earliest opportunity. And he had the perfect persona to do just that.
“Now, shouldn’t you be getting back to whatever you do as Sky God? Sit there and look pretty?” Set clicked his tongue and tilted his head to the side, the false smile completely faded from his face. He had no interest in entertaining Horus as he threw his little tantrum. Set had more important things to concern himself than the likes of him.
You could still kill him. Horus might beat him. What the fuck did you just say? He’s powe- SHUT UP!
Thunder struck and the whispers that were buzzing quite loudly faded to near silence. Quiet, soft, but chaos could never be truly quelled. Quiteted, but never silenced.
Harsiseis’ lip curled into a sneer. For all of Set’s words, he had yet to see anything from the God that suggested an ability to focus. He was as haphazard and random as his chaos and in the younger’s eyes, there was no place for such lack of discipline within the underworld.
“No, it is not like mine” he agreed, for he would never be so careless with his powers or actions. Horus was deliberate. Most of the time anyway. There were occasions where his temper got away from him, but it was always with good reason. For a moment, the clear sky-blue of the god’s gaze left Set to glance at the pictures his colours painted in the gloomy dark above them.
He too had been watching the Greek ships with more than a passing interest, but seeing the evidence of the fire at his father’s temple just stoked his anger more and Horus added it to the list of sins that his Uncle would answer for, when the time was right.
“I do worry” he retorted coldly as Set spoke of plans. “For like all you do, there will be no reason nor rhyme. Senseless and childlike.”
Horus had a vested interest in the war after all. God of the Kings, this conflict would see the Pharoah triumph or fail, and that was a scenario the sky god was paying attention too, in his way. He had had an idea of the way it should end and he didn’t need Set and his useless interference messing with the outcomes that he desired.
His gaze narrowed at his Uncle when the god all but dismissed him, and Horus let out a laugh. “Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better about yourself, Uncle. But know that whilst some might tolerate your continued disrespect, I will not. You just watch.”
If the other gods would not allow him to tear down Set where he wished to, here, then Horus would find other ways to weaken and to punish. And as much as he liked to think himself above goading and provoking the other god, it would do to satisfy him until he could move in more definite ways.
The crack of thunder and the sudden absence of the infernal buzzing at least gave him some comfort in the fact he’d riled his Uncle up some, and it would have to be enough. For now. He gave a mock salute to his fellow god and was gone, nothing but a whisper of vapour to say he’d been there at all.
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Harsiseis’ lip curled into a sneer. For all of Set’s words, he had yet to see anything from the God that suggested an ability to focus. He was as haphazard and random as his chaos and in the younger’s eyes, there was no place for such lack of discipline within the underworld.
“No, it is not like mine” he agreed, for he would never be so careless with his powers or actions. Horus was deliberate. Most of the time anyway. There were occasions where his temper got away from him, but it was always with good reason. For a moment, the clear sky-blue of the god’s gaze left Set to glance at the pictures his colours painted in the gloomy dark above them.
He too had been watching the Greek ships with more than a passing interest, but seeing the evidence of the fire at his father’s temple just stoked his anger more and Horus added it to the list of sins that his Uncle would answer for, when the time was right.
“I do worry” he retorted coldly as Set spoke of plans. “For like all you do, there will be no reason nor rhyme. Senseless and childlike.”
Horus had a vested interest in the war after all. God of the Kings, this conflict would see the Pharoah triumph or fail, and that was a scenario the sky god was paying attention too, in his way. He had had an idea of the way it should end and he didn’t need Set and his useless interference messing with the outcomes that he desired.
His gaze narrowed at his Uncle when the god all but dismissed him, and Horus let out a laugh. “Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better about yourself, Uncle. But know that whilst some might tolerate your continued disrespect, I will not. You just watch.”
If the other gods would not allow him to tear down Set where he wished to, here, then Horus would find other ways to weaken and to punish. And as much as he liked to think himself above goading and provoking the other god, it would do to satisfy him until he could move in more definite ways.
The crack of thunder and the sudden absence of the infernal buzzing at least gave him some comfort in the fact he’d riled his Uncle up some, and it would have to be enough. For now. He gave a mock salute to his fellow god and was gone, nothing but a whisper of vapour to say he’d been there at all.
Harsiseis’ lip curled into a sneer. For all of Set’s words, he had yet to see anything from the God that suggested an ability to focus. He was as haphazard and random as his chaos and in the younger’s eyes, there was no place for such lack of discipline within the underworld.
“No, it is not like mine” he agreed, for he would never be so careless with his powers or actions. Horus was deliberate. Most of the time anyway. There were occasions where his temper got away from him, but it was always with good reason. For a moment, the clear sky-blue of the god’s gaze left Set to glance at the pictures his colours painted in the gloomy dark above them.
He too had been watching the Greek ships with more than a passing interest, but seeing the evidence of the fire at his father’s temple just stoked his anger more and Horus added it to the list of sins that his Uncle would answer for, when the time was right.
“I do worry” he retorted coldly as Set spoke of plans. “For like all you do, there will be no reason nor rhyme. Senseless and childlike.”
Horus had a vested interest in the war after all. God of the Kings, this conflict would see the Pharoah triumph or fail, and that was a scenario the sky god was paying attention too, in his way. He had had an idea of the way it should end and he didn’t need Set and his useless interference messing with the outcomes that he desired.
His gaze narrowed at his Uncle when the god all but dismissed him, and Horus let out a laugh. “Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better about yourself, Uncle. But know that whilst some might tolerate your continued disrespect, I will not. You just watch.”
If the other gods would not allow him to tear down Set where he wished to, here, then Horus would find other ways to weaken and to punish. And as much as he liked to think himself above goading and provoking the other god, it would do to satisfy him until he could move in more definite ways.
The crack of thunder and the sudden absence of the infernal buzzing at least gave him some comfort in the fact he’d riled his Uncle up some, and it would have to be enough. For now. He gave a mock salute to his fellow god and was gone, nothing but a whisper of vapour to say he’d been there at all.
Just like his father. Rude. Arrogant. Weak.
The mock salute and the sudden disappearance did not bring anger from the God. No, in fact, it brought amusement. The laughter started, bubbling at first before it tore through his lips, ripping like a lion’s teeth through flesh. The buzzing got louder and louder. The laughter seemed to have no end.
It was so easy to get Horus to anger. It was so easy to get under that god’s skin. The mere existence of Set was to the Sky God’s detriment. The anger fueled Set. The annoyance that Set would dare set fire to Osiris’s temple only made him want to do more. Could Set bring Horus to the brink of war? A battle amongst gods… that would be true chaos.
He would kill you. Set would slaughter him. Oh, maybe more gods would join. Maybe the Pantheon would fall. A godless realm! Nothing could be wilder! Nothing indeed.
And just like that, the laughter ended. With a wave of his hand, the buzzing from the elements of chaos lowered to a near-mute. His face was stone serious, set as if laughter never existed in the first place. A stark contrast.
The war would be Set’s playground. Akila would serve him well, just as that body did with the temple. He would have her arrive to see first hand the battles below. But Set had no desire to help the Egyptians who did not even think to pray to him. Nor did he desire to aid his brothers and sisters in this war.
Can’t you do something useful and focus your attention there? Asked his nephew. Horus would come to regret those words. For like all you do, there will be no reason nor rhyme. With a mind as narrowed and small as the Sky God’s it was no wonder he could not see the grand picture before him. It mattered not, for Horus could not stop anything that Set had set in motion. With war came opportunity, not for Egypt, but for Set. And Set would seize it while Horus remains thoughtless- assuming the actions of the God’s was without reason.
Set turned out his palm and watched as a seed formed. Small, round and black, the center filled with a purplish smoke. The Seed of Doubt. He mustn’t forget the people in the city as well. While the Gods’ attention may be at the battleground, those who worship their true master would be given the chance- the chance to spread chaos beyond the fields of war.
But know that whistle some might tolerate your continued disrespect, I will not. You just watch.
“Oh, I’ll be watching.” Set said, dropping the seed into the blackened water. It rippled all around, once, twice. A flower bloomed from the seed, beautiful and glorious… before turning into black dust in the wind.
“The show is about to begin.”
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Just like his father. Rude. Arrogant. Weak.
The mock salute and the sudden disappearance did not bring anger from the God. No, in fact, it brought amusement. The laughter started, bubbling at first before it tore through his lips, ripping like a lion’s teeth through flesh. The buzzing got louder and louder. The laughter seemed to have no end.
It was so easy to get Horus to anger. It was so easy to get under that god’s skin. The mere existence of Set was to the Sky God’s detriment. The anger fueled Set. The annoyance that Set would dare set fire to Osiris’s temple only made him want to do more. Could Set bring Horus to the brink of war? A battle amongst gods… that would be true chaos.
He would kill you. Set would slaughter him. Oh, maybe more gods would join. Maybe the Pantheon would fall. A godless realm! Nothing could be wilder! Nothing indeed.
And just like that, the laughter ended. With a wave of his hand, the buzzing from the elements of chaos lowered to a near-mute. His face was stone serious, set as if laughter never existed in the first place. A stark contrast.
The war would be Set’s playground. Akila would serve him well, just as that body did with the temple. He would have her arrive to see first hand the battles below. But Set had no desire to help the Egyptians who did not even think to pray to him. Nor did he desire to aid his brothers and sisters in this war.
Can’t you do something useful and focus your attention there? Asked his nephew. Horus would come to regret those words. For like all you do, there will be no reason nor rhyme. With a mind as narrowed and small as the Sky God’s it was no wonder he could not see the grand picture before him. It mattered not, for Horus could not stop anything that Set had set in motion. With war came opportunity, not for Egypt, but for Set. And Set would seize it while Horus remains thoughtless- assuming the actions of the God’s was without reason.
Set turned out his palm and watched as a seed formed. Small, round and black, the center filled with a purplish smoke. The Seed of Doubt. He mustn’t forget the people in the city as well. While the Gods’ attention may be at the battleground, those who worship their true master would be given the chance- the chance to spread chaos beyond the fields of war.
But know that whistle some might tolerate your continued disrespect, I will not. You just watch.
“Oh, I’ll be watching.” Set said, dropping the seed into the blackened water. It rippled all around, once, twice. A flower bloomed from the seed, beautiful and glorious… before turning into black dust in the wind.
“The show is about to begin.”
Just like his father. Rude. Arrogant. Weak.
The mock salute and the sudden disappearance did not bring anger from the God. No, in fact, it brought amusement. The laughter started, bubbling at first before it tore through his lips, ripping like a lion’s teeth through flesh. The buzzing got louder and louder. The laughter seemed to have no end.
It was so easy to get Horus to anger. It was so easy to get under that god’s skin. The mere existence of Set was to the Sky God’s detriment. The anger fueled Set. The annoyance that Set would dare set fire to Osiris’s temple only made him want to do more. Could Set bring Horus to the brink of war? A battle amongst gods… that would be true chaos.
He would kill you. Set would slaughter him. Oh, maybe more gods would join. Maybe the Pantheon would fall. A godless realm! Nothing could be wilder! Nothing indeed.
And just like that, the laughter ended. With a wave of his hand, the buzzing from the elements of chaos lowered to a near-mute. His face was stone serious, set as if laughter never existed in the first place. A stark contrast.
The war would be Set’s playground. Akila would serve him well, just as that body did with the temple. He would have her arrive to see first hand the battles below. But Set had no desire to help the Egyptians who did not even think to pray to him. Nor did he desire to aid his brothers and sisters in this war.
Can’t you do something useful and focus your attention there? Asked his nephew. Horus would come to regret those words. For like all you do, there will be no reason nor rhyme. With a mind as narrowed and small as the Sky God’s it was no wonder he could not see the grand picture before him. It mattered not, for Horus could not stop anything that Set had set in motion. With war came opportunity, not for Egypt, but for Set. And Set would seize it while Horus remains thoughtless- assuming the actions of the God’s was without reason.
Set turned out his palm and watched as a seed formed. Small, round and black, the center filled with a purplish smoke. The Seed of Doubt. He mustn’t forget the people in the city as well. While the Gods’ attention may be at the battleground, those who worship their true master would be given the chance- the chance to spread chaos beyond the fields of war.
But know that whistle some might tolerate your continued disrespect, I will not. You just watch.
“Oh, I’ll be watching.” Set said, dropping the seed into the blackened water. It rippled all around, once, twice. A flower bloomed from the seed, beautiful and glorious… before turning into black dust in the wind.
