God of Judgement @thehalloftwotruths - Tumblr Blog

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anansixpowered

Amaya listened in rapt attention, figuring that insisting that she would keep her word would be pointless. What did the verbal promises of a mortal who just so happened to wear the totem of a god around her neck mean to the Egyptian god of judgment? Little to nothing, she suspected. So she’d just have to show him with her actions that she meant what she was saying, and for now she would just focus on listening to him.

“Is it always a choice, for every god? Or was that just the case for you?” She asked sincerely.

“Tell me, who exactly can tell a god what to do?” Truly, that would be rather hard. Gods tended to be quite stubborn. “We are orderly beings, at our heart. Each of us adds something to the universe. However, you make it seem as though I made some great choice to stop being king of the dead. Truly, what does it mean? What is its role? Mortals are so quick to accept positions of power and titles without questioning their purpose or real status.”

“My role before Osiris took the throne and after he did so is the same. I have always weighed the hearts of the dead. I have always judged them. I simply do not occupy the title of king of the dead. Some would say that makes me less powerful. But who truly holds power over the dead? He who rules over it, or he who decides who is allowed entry? Though I suppose that is somewhat misleading; I do not decide who enters and who does not. We have a far more unbiased and fair method.”

pulitzerpanther

“And you told me to touch it because you’re the life of the party at a funeral,” Cat dryly responds, shaking her head, pressing, “Tell me about how these magics, specifically will keep these artifacts from actually being stolen. I was able to touch it without your Egyptian curse death of immediacy–cute–so am I to assume that would last until the door and then an airplane jet would fall on my head right after? A creative little spike trap would pop up outside of the doorway? Even then, wouldn’t the artifact be outside of the building, and thus effectively stolen?”

“Why not incorporate a few modern developments, as well, just as a deterrent? Or do you think the uneducated souls who wind up cursed trying to make a quick score deserved it? It seems like a capital punishment, if true, for people that you could help mitigate, unless you believe in immediate capital punishment without trial or motive taken into account?”

“No, I told you to touch it because you are curious, desperate to prove yourself to all who see you, and to show that you can handle any situation that arises. As for your question, imagine trying to hold that item for more than a few moments. If you did not collapse and die of grief and terror immediately, I do not think you would be able to go far.”

“But I can also see you are intent on coming up with something that will make a more sensationalist headline. No doubt you resent being sent here to cover such a banal event, and would prefer to make it about my views on religion and capital punishment. It appears that you never truly left gossip behind, though the act itself is not the problem. Merely the intent.”

“But if you must know, Ms. Grant, if the gods decide to punish someone, who are mortals to question it? The gods know all things. And when they die, their souls will go to the hall of two truths, where their hearts will be judged against a feather of Ma’at. If they are worthy, they will be led into the afterlife. If they are unworthy, they will be fed to Ammit. Either way, the problem solves itself, yes? The gods are powerful, but they are not fools. The only foolish ones are those that try to deceive the gods.”

adversator-archive-deactivated2

me: *wants to rp with more people*

me: *is incredibly easy to distract*

me: *has a pile of drafts to tend*

me: *gets picky over minor things*

me: procrastinator extraordinaire™

pulitzerpanther

Her fingers are already wrapping around the small artifact she was dared to touch, nails skimming along the surface.

It washes over her slowly–she doesn’t even notice, at first, which she’ll think is depressing in retrospect, so many minutes and hours and days spent anxious and cold that it initially doesn’t have much effect. It feels like her fingers dip into a cool pool of water, arm slowly sinking further and further into the dark depths, spreading from curling fingers to suddenly gasping lips. Ripples of ice spread in clenching muscles, from a forearm to a shoulder to her stomach–

It feels like brushing fingers through Adam’s hair, holding him closer to his chest, cradling slackening arms until they went limp–

Her hand snaps away.

The feeling floods away the moment fingers curl in the much warmer, normal air but there’s still the faint, cool breath of ice on her lips, lingering and freezing, a chill rolling down a curving spine. Something within her feels changed. Something within her feels different, and when she turns her hand around, eyes skimming along a palm, like she doesn’t recognize it before she sucks in a second breath.

At least she’s not looking at a wing.

“What?” Cat blinks–pulls away entirely, stepping back to put distance between them–settles a gaze on the unfamiliar man with a sharp breath that she has to focus to temper. “Oh, right. That’s shocking that you’re the point of choice for funerals. If noble.” Cat has the distinct impression that the man would fit in with the decor. It takes a few more seconds for her to focus, entirely, trying to shake it off and get her head back in the game.

She has a job to do, after all.

“Tell me about them, these magics.” Rolling eyes, “I’m not going to steal anything, I’m here to keep other people from trying.”

He knew the pain she felt; many mortals felt such things, and as both king of the dead and as the god of judgement he encountered it frequently. She was, perhaps, only caused to relive some of the worst sensations. One could only imagine what she might experience if she had stolen it.

“Nobility is hardly easy. If it was, nobility would possess no meaning. But you will have to be more specific about what you wish to know. Magic is a complicated and in depth subject, especially when it relates to the gods. I can say that most tombs are guarded by curses, spoken by mortals and enforced by the god Anubis. As you might be aware, unlike the Greek idea of curses, those afflicted by Egyptian curses tend to die quickly, and painfully for their crimes.”

“But as for your touching of the artifact, clearly you saw and felt things, for you appear shaken as only one facing death can be.”

anansixpowered

“I know I do.” Amaya said. “But I also don’t make promises if I don’t believe with everything I am that I can keep them.” He was so serious, she had the feeling that even the Time Bureau agents would grow tired of it. But she didn’t mind it too much.

He did have a point there, and her mind flicked back to the Belgian soldiers she’d killed to protect Zambesi. Damien Darhk was one of the worst in that regard and, though she didn’t like to think about it, she knew that might be the only way to stop him.

“We won’t.” She said. “Thank you again.” Amaya got up to leave. But then she stopped, and turned around to look at him. “How did you end up as the God of Judgment anyway? If I can ask that I mean. I’ve just always wondered how gods got designated the specific elements, as it were, they did.”

“So you say. But we shall see if this is true. As for your question, it was a choice. I was not always the god of Judgement; for I was once god of the dead and king of the underworld, a prestigious and powerful title. But in the conflict between my father and uncle, my uncle could no longer rule the pantheon, and so I chose to give up my position to take this one. Let him be king of the underworld; for this is both more powerful, and more freeing than being a king.” Also more work to be done.

“We did not get designated; we are what we choose to be, and what we innately are.”

gulldrengur

There was one word that could make the entire universe tremble and all gods and mortals knew it well. The god of light took a deep breath and when he exhaled the word was expelled from him “Fate” he said, the mere acknowledgement of it draw him such sadness upon his features that even the faint light of sunset seem to darken. Drawn to the darkness, making the place where they were much more gloomy. Baldr played with the candle light for a bit letting his fingers feel the warmth of the fire or trying too. While any other would burn, Baldr only felt a soft caress. “Fate my friend is unable to bend nor change and all living creatures are tied to it.” he raised his gaze just slightly “Even gods” He once tried to fight it, his mother tried to fool it but destiny catches us always, not matter what you do. “What we must do is embrace it and fight alongside it. That’s the Viking way” Baldr is reasonable enough to see not many will understand the Norse way, maybe he’s biased by his own beliefs and experiences but he knows that not everything is untouchable. Even Gods can suffer as mortals, perhaps the Egyptian pantheon or other ones are rather peculiar and their power stronger, perhaps the roots of their tree runs deeper in the earth. “Believe me friend if fate can be changed I would have done so eons ago. Now I live and enjoy every second of it.”

“Fate? A concept that does not exist among my people. But I think I understand better; for you are beings of the world, whereas we are not. From nothing, we crafted our universe, crafted it in an orderly way to keep it from falling back into the primordial waters of chaos. All concepts, from time to death to life itself were created by us; no power holds anything over us. And what is fate, if not the certainty of death? But death is but an ordered process, a counterweight to life, to ensure that which begins will end. But we gods are not alive, nor are we dead, for we crafted these things ourselves. The craftsman is not subject to the whims of his tools.”

“I suppose it is difficult for me to grasp your ways, for you are beings of your tree, not the creators of it. You all inhabit its branches, but lack the ability to create a new one. In contrast, if the universe collapsed, we gods would still exist, and would set to crafting a new one. Though it is certainly true that we would like to avoid this.”

anansixpowered

Amaya knew she spoke the truth, but it was somehow comforting to hear it from the god of judgment himself. “I don’t doubt that.” She said in response to his ‘one does not wish to cross me’ comment.

She didn’t even think about arguing that he was wrong, that wasn’t who she was. Just because she mainly worshiped Anansi, didn’t mean she’d go around disrespecting other gods, especially not in front of one of said gods. She was raised better than that. When he said he’d allow her to do this, her heart soared with hope and she beamed at him. “Thank you, I promise you won’t regret this.” She knew she was making a lot of promises, and doing so to a god was dangerous.

But she meant every word she was saying to him.

“We could, but I’d prefer not to end any lives unless there’s no other option.” She told him frankly, thinking about how Sara would leap at the chance to end Darhk’s life. “One last thing before I go, does your agreement mean the curse upon my friends will go away? Because I won’t be able to accomplish this task on my own.” She wasn’t so arrogant to believe that she could.

“You make many promises. One should be careful that they do not promise things that they cannot complete.” He wasn’t threatening her, merely speaking the truth, and his tone reflected that. He was so serious the time bureau looked like frat boys compared to him.

“It is wise to avoid unneeded bloodshed. But it is foolish to avoid slaying one who has committed unconscionable acts. The only way to be certain that one will not commit more acts, is to slay them when their guilt is beyond any doubt. Obviously, this standard is high, but it is sometimes necessary to put an end to things, as grim as it may be to do so.”

“And as for your allies, they will be spared, for now. I would not go plundering any more tombs however.”

anansixpowered

“Yes, that’s…that’s pretty much the long and the short of it.” She responded, still keeping her tone respectful. It sounded so banal when he phrased it like that, and more than anything she wanted to explain the gravity of the situation to him. But she had the feeling that, even if she did, he wouldn’t budge. And he shouldn’t. She knew they shouldn’t have taken it.

She didn’t have a defense for why he should let them keep it. He was right, it wasn’t theirs. When he looked at her, it felt like he was staring into her soul. Maybe he was. As the God of Judgment, that wouldn’t surprise her in the slightest. She wondered what he was seeing when he looked into her soul like this.

She still didn’t know how to address him. “Is there any chance at all, great Anubis, that we could get your permission to have it in our possession? I fully agree that we shouldn’t have just taken it in the first place. But we, we’re protectors of time itself and, as such, history. I fear that if he did manage to get his hands on it somehow, it could destroy the very foundation of time and space. If we promised to bring it back once we made sure he was no longer a threat, would you still consider lifting the curse?” She didn’t dare look away from him this whole time, so he could see that she wasn’t lying. “I know what we did was wrong, but I promise you we are not the enemy.”

“You speak the truth. And you speak of hope and desire. But let it be known, that any evil act, no matter how small, has consequences. If you had left the item be, then either the one taking it would have died, or I would have been alerted to its taking. And one does not wish to cross me.”

“I remember when time was crafted, to set the universe to order. Do not mistake time and history, however, for history is merely the time that mortals record. But I will allow you to do this, and keep you to your word. Know however, that if you do not do so, your god will not be able to protect you from the consequences.” He really needed to work on the whole not being threatening thing.

“Alternatively, you could simply end his life, and leave his soul to judgement.”

Another problem with Anubis and people is he can’t take a side. He’s the ultimate devil’s advocate, because he has to be impartial. He has to be fair. It’s part of his job and who he is. Even if he hates them. But that’s the thing; that makes for poor interactions with most people who likely find that somewhat annoying that he spends all his time discussing semantics and deconstructing arguments. Nothing is just a thing with him. It can’t be. He sees everyone as being the sum total of every action and thought they’ve ever had.

#headcanon #ooc

I can’t help but think that Anubis is that person who always comes off like the least likeable person ever, but not intending to. He always sticks with his rules, even when he probably shouldn’t, because rules and morals are the same thing in his pantheon. He is blunt, judgmental, and does not mince words or suffer fools gladly, because he’s the god of judgement. His literal job is telling people how much they fucked up in life before he rips out their heart to see if he’s feeding them to his pet demon or not.

anansixpowered

Amaya had known the second they’d gone to the tomb to get the item that they needed, that it was a bad idea. She couldn’t explain why or how she knew, but she felt it like a chill straight to her bones. But they needed it. If Darhk or Nora got their hands on it, they could give it Mallus when they released him, and that would doom everyone.

But, shortly after they did, the others broke out in boils, rashes…started bleeding from their ears. But she hadn’t, which led her to believe this was the work of a deity, and that her devotion to Anansi was the only thing that protected her from suffering the same fate.

And then, she found him. Anubis, the Egyptian god of judgment. Immediately, she assumed a more respectful pose, getting to her knees. “I know how it looks.” She started. “But people worse than us were going to be coming after this and we had to get to it before they did. We weren’t going to keep it, we just wanted to keep it away from them. One of them, he has magic. He might be able to bypass your curses.”

How did you address a god? She didn’t know, so she kept her tone as soft and respectful as possible while still making sure he’d be able to hear her.

“Allow me to see if I understand you correctly. You believe that someone was going to rob a tomb, and your solution was to rob it yourself? As for your charge that one might bypass my magics... There are few who could hope to do so.” Thoth perhaps. Ra, if he used force. Others might be able to outwit his individual works. But Anubis was the patron god of arcane secrets and curses, meant to protect tombs and keep grave robbers from taking what was not theirs.

He turned, his eyes seeming to bore into her, like she was exposed before his gaze, and in many ways she was, for he could see into the soul of anyone he looked at. Such was the god of judgement. Nothing could be hidden from him. And perhaps, that was why she was spared his wrath.

“You may have had good intent, but in stealing what was not yours, you brought this upon yourself. Return the item you stole, and you should recover... if I am feeling kind.”

pulitzerpanther

“Oh, you must just be a riot at parties.” Cat drawls, eyes flicking from a too-stern jaw down to the artifact in question.

Magic–science–it doesn’t particularly matter to the journalist. They delve into the realm of inexplicable on the daily and where she was bored a few minutes ago, now she’s intrigued. The idea of promise in the story–of more–is like a beckoning siren, turning the dull blanks of a cookie cutter museum release into more. Gods and curses (was it a curse if it was protection? Gods’ boons?) and holy artifacts.

Most museum pieces, of course, had legends…

Assessing eyes slit. On one hand, the last time she touched a supposedly cursed artifact protected (or scorned or blah blah blah, something’d by some deity or another) she had literally turned into a pigeon for three days. The pecking jokes would have been nearly unbearable if Lois hadn’t been kidnapped and kept in an actual baby cradle-prison for an afternoon. Thus was, is, and always would be the life of a reporter in one of the gates to hell guarding the supernatural.

Who knew Aliens would have only been the tip of the iceberg.

On the other hand, oh, if it was cursed, the soundbite would be good. And Cat is done writing stories about kittens in trees–she’s done with being a kitty, at all–and without another word she happily smirks before her hand snaps up.

The grumble of here’s hoping you’re a benevolent not-fowl-based God is barely audible before she touches it.

“I confess, celebrations are not something I attend often. I am more common at funerals however. Morbid as it is, no one worthy of a funeral should have no one to attend it.” A truthful statement in his mind, but it was clear he was still working. Getting him out of that was going to be nearly impossible.

On the plus side, it would be better than the utter horror that would come over her touching the item, as soul chilling dread would fill her to her core, the weight of her mortality coming upon her so strongly that one would likely need to recoil in horror, lest they face it more than they had to. A harrowing, but survivable experience.

“I would not suggest touching or trying to steal the artifacts. Old though they may be, the magic they are guarded with is quite powerful.”

kjedefri

Fenrir can’t help that he rolls his eyes at the other. Of course he’s used to being feared, but he hadn’t come here with that intention, nor had he given the other man reason to think that he should be feared. As a matter of fact, he had been trying to put off the least threatening vibe that he possibly could, so now this was starting to grate him the wrong way. "Listen, I am a wolf, but that is not even the point of anything that I was trying to say. I do not need, nor want your fear, so the fact that you are continuing to bring it up is quite disconcerting to me.“ There’s a short huff that pulls from his lips and he’s crossing his arms over his chest. "I am Fenrir of Asgard. I suppose you will have heard of me, and if you have not, this is also fine, but rest assured that whether you fear me or not is not of import to me.”

Another roll of his eyes and he’s turning away from the other. "No, it makes no sense whatsoever, because I wasn’t trying to make you fear me. But here you are assuming that I want you to. Get over yourself.“

“It’s not a matter of myself; merely my observation. You remind me of my son, if a bit hairier. But I am unused to your lands and your ways. I suppose that is to be expected, given how far it is from my own. My apologies for any offense.” Clearly, formality was his lifeblood. Really, he could use loosening up. “I do wonder however, what you are doing so far from your home yourself.”

@anansixpowered

“I sense you have come to my hall for a reason. Rare is it anyone finds their way here while alive.” But she was clearly blessed by a divinity, foreign and weaker though they may be, they were still worthy of respect. More than most anyway. But the god knew the markings of a curse, especially one he made. For he was the god who gave curses their power over tombs, and he was quite good at it.

No doubt her friends were currently breaking out in boils and rashes and bleeding from their ears and the like. He was certain that those that disturbed the dead were punished severely before their agonizing death to disease. That she was unharmed was likely only because of her attachment to another divinity.

“However, know that you are only spared my wrath due to the praise of your god. My patience for grave robbers is not great.”

slainchosen

There’s something familiar in the weight of his words- like every single one falls with an air of finality. She’s certain she’s heard it before, but she can’t quite place it, and she doesn’t like that…or when people come around asking questions. What is she supposed to say anyway? Her relationship with death isn’t what it once was. It’s irreverent now. It’s a game, a stolen high, a power play. She’s not about to admit to why it sticks to her these days, so what is she supposed to say? Naturally, it’s just easier to push back. “What makes you say that? Am I not creepy enough to strike people as an embalmer?” The embalmers she knows would have her head for that. “Are you trying to tell me to step up my game, wear formaldehyde perfume and shit?”

“I have done it plenty before my daughter became the goddess of embalming herself. Your hands lack the roughness from working with the tools and the burning of the embalming fluids. You are familiar with death, but not the preserving of the flesh. The question I have, is why someone familiar with death is here, at this moment.”

asphodelwreathed

‘ most do not find their trips to the underworld to be journies with which they associate fond memories. i must tell you about when two mortals snuck into the realm with less than wholesome intentions. i think you will find your time their far more pleasant by comparison. ’ the blonde says, before giving a small nod of her head, ‘ unconventional yes, but not good? i find myself quite content in my marriage, perhaps your own experience taints the way you view mine? i’ve come with a request, if you would be so kind as to grant it. ’

“Most did not rule the underworld, and spend their time judging those who are to enter it. It is perhaps the fondest thing for me, for it is the closest thing I have to what mortals call home. As for mortals sneaking into Hades, I can think of a few, whether it is Orpheus or Hercules. And as I recall, they both made it out.”

“Perhaps my own experience does. But then, I do know Hades. But perhaps you changed something in him since I saw him last. But as for your request, I would have you make it, and be open and honest in your asking.”

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