Enkil the First

[forsaken-castle-cainhurst]

Some of you never learned to fear the old blood and it shows

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

"Pharaoh? I've made you something. Are you busy?"

Enkil raised his gaze from the book he was engrossed within and shook his head, closing the tome quietly, with a finger between the pages to mark his place temporarily. "No, come in. What have you got?"

[pandorc]

The poor thing seemed surprised that he allowed her to have his company so easily. Pandora entered the room, taking great care holding the vase that was in her hand. There wasn’t really anything special about it, honestly. Other than his name, in hieroglyphs, painted in blue down the side. Grammatically, she got the symbols correct. Her penmanship, however... well. She could use some practice.

“I thought it’d be nice if I started, uh.” Why was she so nervous? Pandora held her hands out, so that he make take and inspect the glassware from her. “I thought maybe you’d like if I had proper offering supplies for you. And I thought maybe a vase for flowers would be a nice start.”

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

Enkil raised an eyebrow, folding one arm over the other across his legs as he watched the girl stammer over her words. “You are acting as if I am some sort of God. It has been a long time since someone worshiped me, little one. And I assure you... even though I once fashioned myself a God, I long out-grew the desire for people to throw themselves at my feet.” He opened up his book once more and began to rapidly scan across the pages.

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

"Pharaoh? I've made you something. Are you busy?"

Enkil raised his gaze from the book he was engrossed within and shook his head, closing the tome quietly, with a finger between the pages to mark his place temporarily. "No, come in. What have you got?"

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

Enkil was touching the sand as she spoke, running his fingers through the fine grains, watching them slowly slip back into the box. "Indeed. Humans have been esepecially cruel to the world." He had marveled at how the world had changed when he'd first woke, staring up at Marius as the young immortal gave him the blood he needed to return. How had the Gods not punished humanity for such blatant disrespect?

Enkil glanced up at her, a smirk tugging at the edges of his mouth as she recited that drinking the water was the second easiest way for her to end up in a hospital. "If you're insinuating that I am the first then - well - you clearly don't know me very well. If I were to attack you... you would be the hospital... but you'd be in the morgue." He straightened up away from the box of sand at this point. "I do not leave my victims alive."

He slowly walked towards her once more, stopping in front of her as she asked if he would prefer that she sit or stand. He reached down, gripping her arm and pulled her up to her feet with a firm grasp, looking down at her curiously. "Why would you do such things for someone like me? Pay such respects... especially if, as you claim, you have never read those ridiculous novels?" He watched her closely, trying to figure her out.

"How do you know of me - of Khayman - if you have never read the books?"

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

Enkil could almost feel the air grow hotter as he watched her face steel up in anger, and he prepared himself for her onslaught of rage with a small smirk curling upwards over his lips. Though then she went cold again, almost - stoic. He leaned forward slowly, raising an eyebrow as he watched this girl phase out of touch and then come back in sharply and her attitude seemed much changed. Interesting. His eyes narrowed a bit, her eyes had done something that he'd seen before, thousands of years before.

When the witch twins had spoken to their invisible friends.

"Everything in your power. I cannot imagine that is much... what could a human hope to do against a six-thousand year old immortal?" Enkil slowly sat back once more before gesturing to himself. "Though I suppose the sentiment is appreciated." He looked around at the offerings. "A decent little set-up you have put together here. As you see, however, my spirit is in no way in need of closure." He gestured to himself before rising once more and slowly stepping down off of the dais. He paused, raising an eyebrow as he bent down and lifted the bottle of dirty water.

"Why would you bring me impure water?" he asked, looking over at her. "Not that I could drink it either way, but this..." He held it up once more. "This is what a peasant would drink. It's filthy. Can you see the little creatures swimming around?" He peered into the bottle. "No, I suppose they are too small for your eyes to distinguish from the mud within, but just the cloudy nature of the water should put you off your breakfast." He set the bottle down and looked back at the girl. "Do you plan on rising or do you intend to remain sitting upon the shattered remains of the table?"

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

Warm sands under a night sky. Stars bright overhead, a blanket of purity over a young world.  Enkil stood by a fountain in a rather beautiful garden surrounded by high walls, but still the sky was visible. Torches provided dim light all around along with several braziers. Enkil closed his eyes, feeling the breeze on his skin slowly and called to Her.

Her Beauty was unlike any he'd ever seen before. So fair of complexion, with hair the color of the sun that he had not seen in so long. Even her smile was warm. He wished he could muster up the effort to move. To touch her. He called her to him, he could hear her heartbeat. She was so young. Both in the blood and in her life, she reminded him of his Queen when he'd first met her. Innocent, beautiful. He pressed into her mind, her young and precious mind.

Come to me. Come to me, beautiful Bianca.

@perladivenezia

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

"The Gods work in mysterious ways. Who is to say that we are not immortal because it was the will of the Gods. Immortality is quite a reward." He touched her head then, watching as she came back to herself and looked up at him. He watched his blood working in her already. Her skin lightening ever-so-slightly, becoming more like his. His fingers trailed over her cheeks slowly. "Such beauty."

He laughed softly as she asked whether or not she was dreaming. "I suppose that depends on what you think of as reality." He cupped her chin, tilting her gaze to him. "The sun is waning above... when you awake, do not be alarmed." He knew that she would find herself in a different place than when she had gone to her rest. In fact, she would find herself in the shrine.

"Indeed, your mind did not conceive of this completely on your own." He smirked. "I did help a bit."

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

pandorc​:

Once she looked up, there was a flurry of movement. He had frightened her badly. Her heart pounding out of her chest, a string of loud curses flew from her mouth. She jumped up from the floor so quickly that she fell backwards and onto a small table, breaking it and falling right back onto the floor. Which caused more cursing. All of this happened in a matter of seconds before wide blue eyes landed back on him again.

She was absolutely mortified, and very, very frightened.

“Please, don’t be Khayman.” Pandora thought to herself, trying to force her expression to be as neutral as she could. It didn’t work to well, honestly, but she didn’t look like she was about to have a heart attack anymore. Maybe she still looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die, but maybe she could save some of her pride now that she didn’t look like a scared child.

And, there she sat. A tiny woman with red lipstick smeared on her chin, sitting in a pile of broken and old wood. It occurred to her that she probably cut herself, or had a splinter that made her bleed. Which was just great, really. Everything seemed to be working out just the way she wanted tonight.

“Get off his throne.” Oh, she wanted to try and sound brave now! Pandora tried to speak as authoritatively as she could, but of course, it wasn’t as strong as she wanted to sound. “You have no right to sit in his place, whoever you are.”

It was quite comical, her reaction. He couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped his lips as he watched her scramble backwards, fall onto a table and then crash once again to the floor. He could taste her fear on the air, hear her heart racing. His light mood was soured instantly though at her thoughts of Khayman. She thought he was that traitorous bastard? His smile turned into a deep scowl, eyes hardening just a bit as he slowly uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.

"Khayman," he spat at the name. "How dare you insinuate that I might be that deceptive bastard?" he demanded, rising up from the throne once more and towering over her as he stood upon the dais where the thrones were placed. His eyes moved over the girl on the ground, taking in the fact that she had, in fact, injured herself, the scent of her blood filling the air of the once-forgotten shrine. And then she ordered him off the throne.

He scoffed, sitting back down once more and crossing one leg over the other casually. "I have every right," he sneered at her. "Seems a bit presumptuous of you to come here - offer your prayers to someone whom you obviously do not know - even bring tribute - and then disrespect that very person in his own space." His upper lip curled a bit in distaste. "An adventurous mortal who read those gods-forsaken books - come in search of ancient immortals that she has no understanding or grasp of." He shook his head. "Pathetic."

[pandorc]

“Well, that was horrible.” And now she was talking to herself. Awesome. The Talamascan sighed loudly, running both hands through her hair to try and ground herself. There were things placed all over the former shrine in a poorly executed, though well meaning attempt to honor the fallen Pharaoh. Offerings of lapis lazuli, a bowl made of gold, a glass bottle with water from the Nile. A wooden box of sand from Egypt. The rest of the tributes were things that people traditionally used to worship Osiris throughout time; wood statues of oxen and birds sat on what would have been his half of the throne, with the nicest piece of linen clothing that she managed to - poorly - sew together to make something that resembled what he would have worn in life. She skipped the bread and beer, thinking that it would’ve been more insulting to offer an immortal king food than to leave it off. And the actual live birds and oxen, because that would have been absolutely impossible for her to figure out. The statues would have to be sufficient, and hopefully, he’d understand.

Even in the way she dressed, she tried to honor him. Perhaps not her hair; that should’ve been braided, but since she couldn’t do all those tiny braids herself, she let her long dark hair fall freely onto her shoulders. She’d wear a white linen dress and as close to appropriate sandals as she could manage. It would have been a priest or a priestess to recite this prayer for him, after all. She should try and replicated the process of it all as closely as she could, even to her red lipstick that she hated against her skin tone. Except, maybe the priestess wouldn’t be sitting on the floor. And probably would have pronounced at least two words of that properly. And wouldn’t have cursed at their own mistakes and had to start all over again… More than once.

“Well, Pharaoh.” Pandora sighed and let her head hang to the side. “At the very least, I hope you had a laugh at my expense. I think you more than deserve it.”

@the-immortal-pharaoh

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

At first, he didn't know what had drawn him to this place. This place he would much rather have forgotten. This place where She had left him, drained of blood, and floating on the wind until Marius had returned for him. But here he was, in this place that he had never thought he'd return to. And as he approached it, he heard the sound. A voice, soft, and just a bit unsure. A heartbeat. A human. The smell of her, and as he landed, the sight of her. She knelt before the abandoned thrones, though his in particular was decorated with statues and gifts. A funeral right for the Pharaoh. He tilted his head, listening to her fumble through the pray in a language he had not heard another speak in thousands of years. He moved with precision, quickly, quietly, though never took his eyes off of the girl. Who was this creature, and why was she here? She concentrated so hard on her task that he could get little else from her mind. She was shielding. Fascinating. And then she was finished, or at least, he thought she was. And then she spoke and he wondered if she hadn't seen him already, though clearly she had not even looked at him. He tipped his head, steepling his fingers in front of his face as he looked down at her. He was dressed in modern garb, though sat no less regally than his position demanded. A pure white shirt made of the finest cotton threads, unbuttoned nearly half-way down his chest to leave his throat exposed. Black slacks that were not cut too closely, yet made of the same soft fabric as his shirt, and well-polished shoes. There were several gold chains resting against his chest that looked quite thick and heavy, and rings adorned his fingers. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows to expose a gold watch and golden and jeweled bangles on the other wrist. Despite these adornments, he made no noise when he moved, leaning forward ever-so-slightly. "It was fairly amusing, I must say. Your Kemeten is atrocious."

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

"Fool." It was a familiar language. One that he had heard for the past two-thousand years. Marius's native tongue. Yes, that was the Guardian's name. He remembered now. Slowly, it returned to him. His throat was burning. He needed blood. The only other heart nearby belonged to Marius, and Enkil knew that he could not indulge further. He moved sluggishly, almost as if he were made of stone once more, his motions a bit strained. He tried to rise to his feet, he barely noticed the weight of the cloak on him, he had been cold for so long, this did not bother him.

Raising his hand, he pulled the cloak from his shoulders. "You... you - need -..." The words wouldn't come. What were the words? He knew them in his own language, he struggled with memories of Marius's prayers. He had to find the words. "Need this - more... than I." He held the cloak extended. Marius was young still. He could see that Marius felt the bite of the cold air more than he. "Need... Blood." He stretched slowly, craning his neck back as he fought to keep himself mobile. He had slept for so long.

"Hunt with you." He looked to Marius then towards where the door had once been, where Marius had dug his way in. He cocked his head slowly. "She - is - gone." A statement more than a question. He couldn't hear her. he'd always been able to hear her heartbeat. Was she too far away? Or was she gone for good? Then it flashed before his eyes. She stood in front of Marius, and others, they spoke - and then Akasha was no more. The witches. Those miserable, wretched witches had finally ended her.

Enkil prepared himself for the sorrow. The pain. The rage. It didn't come. She had betrayed him. Stolen his blood and left him. His chest felt tight. Yet there was no fire. Not what he once felt. What he felt when he had been angry, or jealous. There was only the coldness of this tomb where Akasha had left him. He wanted to be free of it. Free of this place.

He began to walk slowly towards the door. The movements came a little easier now, he remembered this. Walking. He was still weak, hungry, his throat was the only fire he felt. He looked to Marius then. "Hunt with me." The words came easier as well. He delved into the memories of the man whose blood rushed through him. Yes - he knew him. Marius. He knew him well.

[amelthebravennian]

Enkil

Send the name of a character and my muse will tell you what they associate with them!

“Enkil, I associate you with the devotion. Devoted to your Queen. Devoted to your kingdom. Devoted to your family and legacy. Devoted to the protection of your kin. I wish we could have met in other circumstances.”

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

"If you had no brain then how did you speak? How did you communicate. I think you sell yourself short, spirits and gods, though with no physical formation of the organ you see in humans, you still had a mind. So don't try and write that off, Amel. Emotions might have felt stronger to you, but you still had a mind with which to make decisions. You had thoughts, made choices. So do not downplay it. No one will believe it." He shook his head, waving his hand off. "Least of all me." He shrugged then.

"You let yourself be consumed because you had no will to stop yourself from becoming overwhelmed. You were not a spirit, as I hear it told. You were a ghost. Meaning you had the capabilities, you simply forgot them because you no longer were using them." He watched Amel carefully as he stated that he'd chosen to look as he had in the beginning. So he had been a witch.

"Perhaps you were a witch and did not know it, that is why your soul did not move on." He shrugged. He didn't really care why Amel had found himself drawn to the twins. "What is magic but the unexplained. Things that are not known that seem out of this world. Is that not what you are?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes.

"You are not even of this place. So how can you claim not to be a witch? Maybe not a witch in the way you describe them, but a witch none-the-less. There are different kinds of magic. Different kinds of witches." He remained still as Amel approached him.

"If you hated us so, why did you save us? Was it merely to torture us more? Your final act of revenge?" He asked, ignoring the extended hand. He had no desire to touch the creature in front of him.

"I see through your facade, Amel. The others may not, but I know what pain you caused. To Akasha and to me. Thousands of years of torment. For what? Your pleasure? Your revenge?" He scoffed, looking away from him.

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

Warm sands under a night sky. Stars bright overhead, a blanket of purity over a young world.  Enkil stood by a fountain in a rather beautiful garden surrounded by high walls, but still the sky was visible. Torches provided dim light all around along with several braziers. Enkil closed his eyes, feeling the breeze on his skin slowly and called to Her.

Her Beauty was unlike any he'd ever seen before. So fair of complexion, with hair the color of the sun that he had not seen in so long. Even her smile was warm. He wished he could muster up the effort to move. To touch her. He called her to him, he could hear her heartbeat. She was so young. Both in the blood and in her life, she reminded him of his Queen when he'd first met her. Innocent, beautiful. He pressed into her mind, her young and precious mind.

Come to me. Come to me, beautiful Bianca.

@perladivenezia

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

"Not when the Gods have blessed the mortals. We were conduits to them. Sacrifice to us was sacrifice to them." He laughed, watching her carefully. "The gods do not care for the worldly actions of mortals. Mortals are nothing but pieces on a board in their games that they play. They take pleasure in pitting humans against humans, against animals and creatures. The Gods lay claim to each of their pieces, the ones that they think will play well, and that is life. Another god may kill you for belonging to another, but that is their game."

He liked the scent of her. Even though immortals rarely had a scent, there was a perfume in her hair that was quite pleasant to the nose. He liked that it pressed to his face as she drank deeply from him. He closed his eyes, moaning softly as she drew from him, feeling her tremble in his grip. Ah, but to feel the heat of this young one against his cold skin, it almost made him long for the sun again. It had been warm, like this. Even if it had been painful.

She came up further against him and he allowed it for a time. Finally, a hand moved to the back of her head and he drew her away from him, looking down at her and smiled. He brushed a thumb over her lips. "There now... don't you feel stronger now?" He smirked at her, cupping her cheek. "Think of how much stronger you'll be when you've had even more of my blood, child. Too much now, however, will overwhelm you, I think." He'd been careful to keep his mind shielded from her, there were things about his past that she did not need to know. Not yet.

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

akasha-nisut​:

Tinglings ran underneath her heated skin when she heard his voice for the very first time. His deep, manly vocals tainted with an accent pronouncing her name had magic in them, just like the one the Gods might have. Yes. Enkil was the rightful heir of Horus, there was no doubt about it. And as his lips touched her hand, Akasha felt on her the grace of Rah and breath of Hathor on her shoulders. She couldn’t deceive them. Nor her father. Nor Enkil. She would be a good Queen to him. At least, she hoped. 

She gave a light bow, incapable to suppress the nervous and awestruck smile off of her lips. It seemed that she pleased him, at last, which was also a relief. What a great dishonor Uruk would have to bear if she hadn’t… Yet, not everything was entirely settled. Akasha would have to soon produce children. And this very idea scared her. Such a strength was emanating from him.. By the Gods, he would break her in two. 

The heat on her cheeks was a real bother now, yet Akasha kept proudly looking ahead with her chin raised. She had to behave in the eyes of the Gods and her new family, after all. When finally arrived at the large autel, she knelt in front of the forever sitting Osiris and Isis, kissing the floor at their feet in an offering of her loyalty. When she sat up again to face her King, the priest blessed her with oil, then did the same with Enkil before encouraging them to speak loud and clear their vows to each others. 

Enkil kept glancing at her out of the corner of his painted eye, looking over his bride to be. She was slight of frame and build, very feminine, and very beautiful. Exotic. His father had definitely outdone himself when he'd found this one. Any children they had would be quite beautiful as well, he was sure. He hoped they had her eyes. They were soft, and he could see into her soul through them. The eyes were good.

He noticed a faint coloring of her cheeks beneath the make-up and wondered what had caused the reaction. But he couldn' t give any more thought to her emotions, as the priests were starting the ceremony. It was all quite drab, he'd seen weddings before, of course, and he was impatient for the ceremony to end. He was quite looking forward to what occured after the ceremonies. But traditions had to be upheld. There were gifts given to the gods on bended knee, and then it was Enkil's turn to present his gift to his wife.

He turned to her and a servant came forward with a box, he opened it up and pulled out a jeweled headdress that he delicately put on her head, a large ruby dangling down over her forehead with smaller rubies and diamonds scattered throughout the gold-link headdress. "I, Enkil, Heir of Horus and future Pharaoh of Kemet do take of thee, Akasha of Uruk, as my Queen." He bent and kissed her hand lightly.

[amelthebravennian]

Enkil

Send the name of a character and my muse will tell you what they associate with them!

“Enkil, I associate you with the devotion. Devoted to your Queen. Devoted to your kingdom. Devoted to your family and legacy. Devoted to the protection of your kin. I wish we could have met in other circumstances.”

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

“And what other circumstances would those have been?”

[amelthebravennian]

Amel’s blood froze in his veins as the ancient glimmer of past haunting his memories had taken the shape of that voice he had very well known. He took a moment to scrutinize the tall and muscular shape of this lost Pharaoh. Enkil. In flesh and bones. Standing right in front of him. Amel sensed goosebumps warn him silently. Though, he didn’t show any of his wariness.

“These very ones. My former self was very little prone to discussion, I’m afraid. Yet, I remember your tries, and your soothing words. It meant a lot to the ethereal me. More even now, to the real me.”

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

"Is that so? Meant a lot to you? Then why did you do what you did?" Enkil approaches slowly, looking the man up and down. "So this is what you looked like before? Or is this simply a body that you designed based on what you liked? Did you choose this form?" He slowly circled him looking around slowly. "It is not a bad form. Though why you would choose a witch's form -" He stopped himself. "Of course. That is why you were drawn to them. You were a witch yourself before, weren't you?" He raised an eyebrow as he paused in front of Amel once more. "So we were cursed from the very beginning. Witches around us. Witches inside of us. Cursed all around."

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

You know it then? That's gotta suck.

“I do not. I simply do not think it was worth an actual response.”

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

Pharaoh shmarao. You're a bitch boy. Always will be.

“.... be gone with you.”

[amelthebravennian]

Enkil

Send the name of a character and my muse will tell you what they associate with them!

“Enkil, I associate you with the devotion. Devoted to your Queen. Devoted to your kingdom. Devoted to your family and legacy. Devoted to the protection of your kin. I wish we could have met in other circumstances.”

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

"And what other circumstances would those have been?"

[jadedcreole-deactivated20210629]

🦷 - to bite my muse (@the-immortal-pharaoh) - Enkil reaches out, gripping Louis by the jaw and pulls him in easily before leaning in and sharply nipping at the other's lower lip and then slowly licking at the blood that wells up with a smirk.

Louis was startled to see the old King standing suddenly in front of him. He did not even have time to wonder how he got there or how he still lived before he was grabbed. He somehow knew it was the old king. Perhaps it was from the description and stories Lestat told or his commanding and arrogant presence. Louis did not know how he knew- he just did know who it was holding him. 

Louis quickly hid his unease as he was pulled into an embrace by the stronger immortal. He stayed passive in his arms. He had learned this is the best thing to do with Lestat when he treated him like a toy, a doll. He felt the bite then his blood began pool on his lip and watched Enkil as he licked the wound. He arched a dark brow as if to say, ‘are you finished?’ but did not utter a word or send a thought to the old king.

@the-immortal-pharaoh

[the-immortal-pharaoh]

Enkil couldn’t help but laugh at the look on Louis’s face. “Hello, little one,” he said softly, eyes glinting in amusement. He doesn’t immediately release Louis’s jaw, remaining close to the young vampire and observed him for a moment before letting him go and stepping back one step. “I can see why there is so much fascination with you. You are quite beautiful...”