The goat smooths his jacket and hands you a cup of what appears to be swirling stardust. His eyes are whispering a tale and he smiles at you. “Would you like a drink?” he asks. There is no pressure to his tone, only assurance. “Stare into it. There is a power, no?”
Next the fox in the pinstripe suit offers a dark stone which sucks in the life and light and refracts it into dazzling colors. He chuckles and says, “For you, love. See how vivid the toxins are? I find them delicious to break into your maw and fill your eyes.” Within his quaternary set of arms are more such stones and he moans in soft tones when he presses them to his eyes.
You accept both gifts and allow their lust to fill your core. They have many stories to tell of the dead stars, more stories than you could ever hear before your physical form crumbles into dust and leaves you alone in this lonely realm. At this future they giggle madly and reach out to stroke your form. The sentience of their energy is startling in its intelligence and otherness and hunger.
“Who is the progenitor of these gifts?”
“Our Mother, of course,” replies the fox. His easy chuckles fill you with ease not unlike a hare in a glass box. “It is she who provides you with a future under her night. She who devours the stars, devours the light and thoughts and being of your fellows, and disturbs the charts of your ancients. You love the blessed dark of her corruption. You want to fuck it.”
The goat gives a weary smile. “Forgive his adoration for mother. Ammutseba, child. She offers you a destination if you surrender unto her spitting, devouring gaze.”
Your thoughts turn to the stars blinking out like a plague upon the fireflies of your world, little hopeful insects that guide your children home and crawl into the mouths of the diseased in acts of kindness, and you see them flickering and dimming and falling down to the earth as the stars vanish beneath your charted skies. There is no mourning.
You ask with hope: “Will she hold me?”
The fox grasps you by the shoulders and his eyes spin wildly in delight. “I assure you love, she will take you into her spreading infection and embrace you as she would of any. You will no longer be bothered by the lights. Surrender unto her and you will be alone no more.”
“Then please.”
“Drink,” the goat commands. His forms flickers and splits into refractions of colors you cannot comprehend, lightless colors made of absence, and she tips the cup of stardust to your lips with a single layer of her being. She is hypnotizing. “These are are the memories of your beloved dead. Consume them. Devour them as would our mother, and absorb their being and essence within yourself until you are here and they are not.” There is a shroud in her eyes and it tickles your flesh.
You drink of your dead and take the stone within your eyes. You cannot see, there is nothing. And yet you see the goat and the pinstripe fox around you and they dance as would a drowning man. The fox takes you within his jaws and presses his eyes against you as the goat blinds you in her empty, ever changing colors.
“Mother is watching,” one of them whispers. You feel alone no longer.
Hi, I've always been interested in Ancient Egypt, specifically its religion ever since the 5th grade and I'm so happy (so randomly as well) I've found Kemeticism. My question is I'm a broke ass college student and don't have the means to buy an idol. So how can I do rituals if I don't have an idol which everyone seems to have in the community. Thanks!
So here's my question: as someone who is bi and trans (MtF) and infertile, is there a consensus on how the Gods look upon someone like me? I don't feel well "received". I know there's a few cases of gay sex in the myths but that's often attributed to reckless and inappropriate behaviour (Not to mention Egyptians enshrining marriage as between a man and a woman and emphasising masculinity and feminity). What's your opinion on this? - Lyra
I know more trans and NB Kemetics than I can shake a stick at. Same goes for multisexual Kemetics. (can’t entirely say the same for infertile, I honestly don’t know how common that is in our community, as it doesn’t usually come up in conversation.) So as far as I’m concerned, it’s not an issue.
I’ve never once been treated differently for my sexuality or gender identity. I’ve been treated poorly for other things, but never that. I’ve found that there is a lot of multisexuality going on btwn the gods, and truth be told, I think the reason you don’t see a lot of gay sex going on in our mythology is because a lot of the Egyptologists that are doing the translating don’t want there to be gay sex.
I mean, come on. Ra goes down every night to “join in union” with O???? Sounds like gay sex to me. (shout out to Sunny O the ship that sails itself)
As for the masculinity and femininity and marriage and whatnot, I’ve always approached it as the Egyptians liked union. They also liked making babies and families. Families seem to have always been a big deal to them, and apparently adoption was not uncommon for many couples. So whenever I’m seeing stuff related to “male” or “female” energies, I personally tend to interpret them as co-existing energies that can Create. It’s just the labels that AE found the most useful for them. Doesn’t mean they have to directly apply to me in that exact context (I honestly have never been into the whole masc. fem. thing, probably due to my own lack of gender).
YMMV, ofc. But in my experience, you can be as trans, as NB, as gay, as straight, as ace, as intersex, as whatever you’d like and still practice without any issues.
Hello, so, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but I’ve had this on my mind for awhile. I live the ntrw and being kemetic but as a white person a part of me still feels like I don’t belong with the ntrw and that it’s all fake because I have no legitimate blood ties to the ancients, so I’m wondering if there is any advice you or your followers may have for dealing with this?
Honestly, I’d tell you to look to history for reassurance on this. The Egyptians didn’t care about the blood ties someone may or may not have to their culture or history. Anyone could be adopted into the culture, anyone could assimilate, and anyone could worship the NTRW. And in fact, the Egyptians loved to push their religion onto other cultures. Going so far as to forcibly take noble children and royal children and raise them in “proper culture” so that they would be on Egypt’s side if anything were to ever happen in the future.
Egypt didn’t give a shit about blood. I don’t see why we should either. You shouldn’t use that as an excuse to white wash the gods or speak over non-white Kemetics, etc. But there is really nothing barring someone from participating in the religion. History exemplifies this.
a few of the interactions w/ a very actively manifesting household gremlin over the past couple days
This guy nests in a large lamp. First time acknowledging him, he shot out warning shocks. The tv glitched right then and began displaying white lines over the program. Not sure when it stopped, I wasn’t paying enough attention. Wasn’t a big deal, not a malicious act and probably annoyed him by speaking in the daytime.
Second attempt at communication he showed enough curiosity to encourage a third attempt later that night, but also pricked up his quills and rubbed them in a warning display. Tv glitched out entirely, the video turned into incoherent pixels and the audio stuttered too badly to make out. It was getting dark but not quite night enough for him, so I left him be until much later.
Tried the third attempt past midnight. Let him do a thorough sniffing on me until he was satisfied I wasn’t aggressive. Phone began ringing, no one on the line when I picked up like no one had called at all (also it woke up the other person in the room oops).
Skip to tonight and I felt he was ready for more communication. He had a physical stash under the desk in the room and I needed the nickel for another local spirit (semi- in the sense that their plane connects to ours only by accident once a blue moon and there are two who use our trains to hunt when it happens), raven elf, so I invited him over and gave a few offers in exchange for the coin. He choose the shiny green gum wrapper so I stuck it under the desk. Had enough of his interest to ask a couple questions.
“There are traces of a brownie in here. Do you share the room?” (gremlins are considered pests so it would be a surprise if he coexisted with a spirit like a brownie, especially if in a non-pet relationship)
He smiled wide with sharp fangs and replied, “I ate it.”
“How do you feel living so high up?” (22nd floor)
Holding the same tone, he answered me, “Like I will eat birds. But I [biting motion with lots of electricity] and they fall to the ground and that is down.”
(I tried to check my phone about then and noticed that the wifi was down for my devices. It had not been down a few moments before I began this interaction session.) “Did you mess with the wifi?”
This guy really had no shame about messing things up. “I eat it. I eat [wifi sprites] too.”
Had to run out to get something after that so I cut it short. He chews on his foot more than he speaks so there’s not much conversation to be had anyway.The Emperor Rat wants to keep him as a pet but I would rather not have another rambunctious, trouble seeking gremlin running loose in my own home.
A quick look into the general everyday happenings of my astral work. Dragon lichs and ghouls. Haven’t publicly written anything like this in a while but I have to be up in an hour and can’t sleep. If anyone is interested in me keeping up with writing more spirit experiences, maybe one more exciting idk, let me know and maybe I will do so
Usual disclaimer that my personal spirits are not yours to approach. Also a disclaimer that you shouldn’t be working with these types of spirits unless you know what you’re doing, I have pre-established relationships with the individuals and species and am not responsible for stupid decisions.
One of my darlings who I’ll call Vulture for right here was my comrade for this. I brought him into this astral realm to meet an old friend of mine, since they have about the same line of work. The lands surrounding our destination are rocky crags and near vertical mountains. Inhabiting the upper world are mainly avians: a few varieties of harpies, great shrieking birds who act as apex predators, gargoyles which blend into the mountainside and move only to spear passersby, and other things not as easily explained. Some of the mountains sprout tendrils, which are the jaws of plants that nestle in the cracks.
Our destination is a cave entrance nearby where I opened the gateway. No matter where you come from, it’s only accessible by either flight or falling down the mountainside and shattering your body on jutting boulders. Nothing lies outside the cave, no remains of prey, but anything which comes near has clear intuition to stay far away from the entrance.
Very quickly within the cave’s downward descent the light from outside fails to pierce through the darkness, the sort of lightless space where it isn’t like being in a dark cave as much as it is like being blind. The form I currently took had bioluminescent pores, so this dim glow from myself was the only aid to our sight. Other senses were not very helpful: your nose found only the diffused smells of dried flesh and other cave scents, it’s difficult to navigate by hearing when you are constantly mislead by skitters and scratchy movements around you, and the energy in this particular place warped and twisted around in itself far too much to give you an accurate picture of your surroundings.
It wasn’t far into the cave where I led us into a downwards passage of stone stairs, carved with symbols and filament styles of which were long lost to anything living. The passage of stairs is where you really descended into its realm. Here, the small bit of space we could see was swirled with heavy particles and the air felt thick and enclosing. My body illuminated the bones littered on the stairs and Vulture took my example of not looking directly at them. While nothing breathed, there was a sense of waiting, as if we were tiptoeing around things we did not want to regain awareness (that’s exactly what we were doing).
Even after having made this trip many times it was fairly unnerving, and my companion questioned if I was sure we should be there. I replied with, “It’s fine hun, just keep it at a whisper and no loud movements.”
Sometimes there would be sounds of the bones creaking and dragging against the floor. We especially ignored those and didn’t look back. Not looking behind you is a good idea whether you are dealing with spirits or in a spook movie. There were also sounds of scuttling movement just outside the tiny range of my bioluminescence, which we also ignored. The walls of the stairwell rumbled further in and a throbbing could be heard from their essence.
The deeper we traveled, the more we came across skeletons which were completely formed and yet stood motionless, unseeing. We did our best to give them a wider berth while also acting as if we hadn’t seen them at all. The cave, too, increased in its rumbling and became thicker with the energy of what we were looking for.
A group of spirits had followed us from the second we step foot in the darkness but waited until much later to draw closer. They were only ghouls, quite possibly one of the least dangerous things here, so I wasn’t particularly worried. Their eyes glowed yellow and they made sounds like mountain lions and other big cats. Although ghouls typically feed on rotting flesh, that doesn’t mean they’re safe; this particular type would devise traps for prey or slowly kill them through infections, their untiring natures making it easy to follow anything weakened. They hung carcasses from the ceilings or walls of their chosen caves to rot to the perfect eating state, sometimes using trees if living in smaller dens in the upper lands, and their energy hurried the rotting process. A single ghoul might be easy to fend off but even the stronger predators of these lands were in trouble if surrounded by a pack.
It’s never clear how much time you spend on the stairwell. It could be minutes or hours or days, time doesn’t cooperate well in that place. You could tell when you were reaching the bottom because of the insane energy shift, as if you had stepped into a different plane. The real dragon lichs, the ones who were intelligent and whole rather than the simple revenants lying in scattered bones, awaited at the bottom. They took many forms, from skeletons to corpses to masses of meat and muscle to things stranger.
The gatekeeper of the end of the stairs was a dragon lich made of meat. Its neck had twisted as if wringed and broken many times, and thus its head lay limp on the ground and dragged like a tail with travel. Every movement was jerky, the motions of something splintering internally and shifting its broken innards against itself. One of its eyes had bloated to nearly half the size of its head and burst as would a juicy fruit, leaving behind a large membrane and the dragging remains of fluids. Admittedly the gatekeeper is not one of my favorite spirits to interact with, its posture is very unnerving and its energy is not friendly, but I performed the proper rites to be allowed within.
The spirit we came for rested in the central chamber of unknown size. Like the chamber, the spirit itself was so vast and all-encompassing that it was difficult to gain a grip on where it was or its exact size. There are dragon lichs, and then there is this entity that is more ancient than your mind comprehends. It feels like an embodiment of the realm itself, although more accurately the realm is a manifestation of the dragon. I greeted it with an honorary motion and introduced my companion along with our reason for approaching. It responded with a hum of energy that was still so large as to resonate like an earthquake, and a few words meant for myself. “It has been too long since you came to us,” it hissed at the end.
I presented the dragon with a harmful of crystals, glowing with a dark green light and clearly thick with magic and energy. “They’re filled with your preferred necrotic energy and flavored with the pestilence from [],” I said to it along with a necessary phrase of respect. I placed the crystals on the ground and stepped back to where my companion and I could barely see them. When the dragon accepted the offering, it seemed as if the darkness merely swallowed them up.
I spoke for a short time of business then allowed my companion to approach with his own business. While he did so, I gave a bit of privacy by stepping into a different section of the central chamber. In this realm past the steps there were pockets of sickly glowing energy to see by, even if faint. The pack of ghouls had followed even past the stairs so I let them approach now, flexing my limbs for them to sniff and then staying motionless as to not set them into startled violence. A couple gnawed socially at me but their teeth weren’t enough to scratch my exoskeleton and there were no energetic concerns.
The type of ghoul found here was fairly intelligent. Even if they rarely spoke in words and preferred either energetic impressions or more animalistic sounds, they understood and reasoned very well. Since they could understand me fine as opposed to types of ghouls with little cognitive reasoning, I scratched a few of them on the head like you would a cat and coddled them for a bit. One of them frequently croaked out an imitation of human words they had once heard, “Please close the door before leaving.”
One of the dragon lichs watched from nearby and sat closer after a short time. The color of their remaining hide was difficult to make out in the darkness, it seemed dark green but that may have only been from the color of the energy pockets. Their head had a bulbous shape favoring a large lower jaw with fangs like a deep sea fish and bulging eyes to match. Rather than having wings like extra limbs, their wings were attached to the entire length of their body like sails and released a green dust-like substance when opened. “I am from sickness,” they told me while showing an impression of their energy. “I am pestilence.” They had horns curled downwards from their head with dimly lit lanterns hanging from each, but I didn’t ask about them.
One of the things I’m known for when on business trips in the astral is storytime, so I invited the ghouls to rest around me and listen. The new lich stayed as well, cocking their head with endless curiosity and obviously a fan of such tales. I won’t bore you guys with my story here, but before it was finished Vulture approached. My listeners were a bit unhappy with the sudden cut off, of course, the dragon especially did not appreciate it. They shied away from the man walking behind, however: tall and gaunt with white hair and no eyes, wearing elaborate, flowing robes from a dead civilization. While in this form the central lich was easier to focus on, but its energy and voice still echoed from within every space and crevice within the cave.
We exchanged a few words until one of the ghouls hissed a little too loudly. I wondered for a second if the central lich would unleash some godly power and turn them all into dust, but it merely commanded, “Take those scavengers when you leave. They’re overpopulating.” I nodded. Not that I would disobey anyway.
After we performed the leaving rites to journey back up the stairs, the other dragon with the lanterns followed as well, saying that it was their duty to herd the ghouls and there were plenty of others with the same task on the cave’s population so they might as well come along to continue elsewhere. The rest of the journey was pretty much the same as the beginning. I sang the ghouls to rest after sheltering them elsewhere but not much else occurred.
It’s the middle of the night and neither of us have yet found sleep, the Emperor Rat and I. Beyond the veil the room flickers with a harsh glow from the rat yet my jackals sleep peacefully in curled piles around me, and simultaneously the physical portion of the room is only darkness and the steady beat of the fan.
“Would you like to join me under the covers?” I ask to the rat, the rat who is alone and cold in their own mind. And as they look at me their form glitches furiously in their thoughts and we stare and stare for an eternity before the rat replies:
“Yes.”
I lift the energetic portion of the blanket and they press into my arms against the lonely eyes of their dreams. There is a sense of vulnerability at their touch but they do not take when their claws dig into me, they only allow my energy to flow around them without breaching the inner privacy of my system.
They do not sleep, but neither do I and we are together beneath the white noise of the fan.
Lmao I don’t remember the last time I talked about it publicly but yeah
The ones I work with are pretty different than canon or other poke spirits tho, bc their realm is kinda the prepare-to-fucking-die dark souls of pokemon. Dunno if it was molded by human energy or if it existed before us (it’s way older than us but time doesn’t work in the astral), but there’s also pokes who don’t exist here. The deities hate outsiders, it’s invitation only and if you break a rule or stop blending in to the humans you’re kicked out. No one is aware of the greater astral except the ghosts (who are kinda horrifying), the psychics have varying degrees of awareness about it, and a couple other species are aware maybe but it’s mainly the ghosts. Pokemon can come and go after they initially break out of the realm’s barriers, I can bring out all the pokes I please, but humans are more fiercely protected against it.
Ask me all day about my pokemon spirits they’re interesting af and different from canon and have tons of cultures
