[color=#FA7268][sup][h1]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/iFY0Aoc.gif[/img][/center]
[b][center][color=#FA7268]𝔸 𝕄 𝕄 𝕀 𝕋[/color][/center][/b]
[/h1][/sup][/color][indent][sub][COLOR=#FA7268]ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʀᴛʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ ⇀ ꜱᴇᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴛy[/COLOR][/sub][/indent][indent][sup][right][COLOR=#FA7268][b]MOOD: ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ᴇᴠᴇʀyᴛʜɪɴɢ.[/b][/color][/right][/sup][/indent][hr]
[sup][right] interactions:[@Icy Hot][@Akayaofthemoon][@Rockette][/right][/sup]
[color=gray][indent][indent][indent]The heated battle of court is the only thing keeping Ammit’s eyes wide and awake. The night before was spent nervously cooking meals upon meals upon meals, anxiety only borne from conclaves gnawing at her like she gnawed on hearts. Work was easy, though, a rhythm that her fingers fell into with a [i]tap, tap, tap[/i].One would think the repetitiveness would have her falling into dreamland, but dissecting the loud yelling of the prosecutor and the low timbre of Anubis.

[color=white][b]“The motion to reduce the bail for Mr. Andre Lawerence has been rejected, we will convene back here to continue this case bright and early on Monday. This is day five, Mr. Isam, let’s not drag this on much longer, alright?”[/b][/color] The judge intoned and Ammit hurried to type it down so she could get out of there as quickly as possible. The Conclave was starting soon, too.

From across the courtroom Ammit could see the broad planes of Anubis’s back clothed in one of his nice suits. Eons of knowing him led Ammit to understanding him almost like the back of her palm – she could see the frustration emanating from him like drawn radio waves in a comic book. Her first instinct was to go to him, smooth his suit down and tell him his favorite words of hers (“I’ll feast well, tonight”). Then she remembered – he’s not her fuckin’ boss anymore. 

[color=#FA7268][b]“Hmph! I’m my own boss!”[/b][/color] She harrumphed to herself, gathering her things together.

[color=white][b]“No, you’re not.”[/b][/color] The Judge muttered as he passed behind her, not even looking up from the paper in his hands. Ammit clamped down her first reaction to give him a not-so-kind gesture. 

Whatever, she has a Conclave to go to anyways.

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Her shitty car didn’t have a name, because shitty cars don’t deserve names – and she tells her car that every time she drives it, angrily thumping at the steering wheel when it makes a weird sound. She refuses to get it fixed, whatever is wrong with it; no way in hell is she going to spend money on such a piece of junk. At the thought of it, Ammit rolls down her window and spits, hoping part of her saliva hit the car to remind it that it is [i]beneath[/i] her. Sometimes it forgets.

Because of the reasons outlined above, Ammit drives her car slowly and carefully on the road. An important thing to note when she spots Anubis’s car zigzagging through traffic while hers chugs along like a slug on fire. Ammit scowls to herself, smacking the radio in between the seats to change the station – violence is the only way to get any of the buttons in her car to work. In a way, this car was meant for her.

It was a slow drive to the Conclave, frustrating and anxiety riddled. She parked her car messily, going over all sorts of lines, and caring very little for it. She [i]dares[/i] someone to hit her car. Ammit may not eat hearts anymore, but that doesn’t mean she won’t stab them. (An over exaggeration, of course, but said with the confidence that if she were charged, Anubis would work for her for free).

The room was easy to find, and she didn’t so much as push the door as she did kick it wide open. She didn’t do it for the dramatic entrance, but rather to get the last bit of anger out of her after she saw Anubis’s car in the parking lot. He was there before her. It might not have been a race, officially, but damn did Ammit hate losing. Ammit entered the room and ignored everyone around her, beelining for the Egyptians since they were all already congregated together.

[color=#FA7268][b]“Hey Bastet, Hathor.”[/b][/color] Ammit said in greeting, choosing to slouch in a chair near Hathor, and added belatedly, [color=#FA7268][b]“…Boob.”[/b][/color]

Ammit glared at Anubis, daring him to challenge her nickname for him in front of their pantheon.[/indent][/indent][/indent][/color]