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Aewin
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Fangirl Extraordinaire
- Last Seen: 12 hrs ago
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Recent Statuses
2 yrs ago
Secured myself two interviews next week and waiting on the outcome of a third, feeling good today 💕
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3 yrs ago
I think there are far more important things to worry about than people calling their characters "muses".
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4 yrs ago
Imagine how sad your life must be to flex on some nerds online.
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6 yrs ago
nuke the status bar
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7 yrs ago
I passed my exams!
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Bio
╔══════════════╗
a e w i n
also known as the weirdo that fangirls a lot• annie • 26 • united kingdom •
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Most Recent Posts
𝖜 𝖊 𝖑 𝖈 𝖔 𝖒 𝖊 𝖕 𝖆 𝖗 𝖙 𝖞
location: Arriving for the party at the Acropolis
interactions: Coco, Eros & Xōchi
mentions: Acropolis Crew
interactions: Coco, Eros & Xōchi
mentions: Acropolis Crew
“Maitea! Look here!”
“Turn this way!”
“Is it true that you’re dating your co-star?”
“Is it true that you’re dating your co-star?”
“Oh my god I love you!”
The screams were endless. The chaos a blur amongst the crowd. Some were leeches hoping to take a picture, others trying to sell the next big story on the likes of US Weekly. Some were regular mortals, swept up in the hubbub of witnessing a celebrity with their own eyes. Xōchiquetzal gave her crowd a practiced smile.
It had been her who tipped off the media of her upcoming presence at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, her flight from LA long enough for the paparazzi to set up camp right by arrivals. Turning to the last person who declared their love for her, she leaned slightly into the stranger to pose for a selfie with her devoted fan, giving the camera a sweet smile and wink before being ushered away by security.
The easy smile remained on Xōchiquetzal’s face until the doors of her black Range Rover Evoque closed, hiding her from the crowd outside. Only then her mask slipped, leaning into the comfortable leather seats for only a second before she called out.
“Alright, take me home.” Her driver nodded at her from the rear mirror before following her command wordlessly. The luncheon was likely long finished by now, the twinkling stars painting the pink skies like little freckles on delicate skin. She contemplated changing her destination to the Jade Jaguar to surprise her mother, but the thought escaped her when she looked out her window, a familiar figure meandering on the side of the road.
“No fucking way- STOP THE CAR!” Xōchiquetzal shouted, her driver slamming on the breaks in reaction. Xōchi barely waited for the car before she rolled down her tinted windows, pushing her head out the window to gaze upon the woman carefully. “Coco? Is that you?!”
Comus was content waltzing down the street dressed in garb commandeered from the mortals she scared away. Thankfully the fountain in the park was filled with water for her to wash the filth and grime from her body, cold though it was.
She was intrigued and amazed at the sights of the world around her, no longer was she among the Golden Age, nor was she still in Italy - that much was evident in the languages spoken around her. Though she was able to gather some latin roots here and there no one seemed to speak the beautiful language itself. 'Such strange creatures they are,' she found herself thinking, eyes twinkling with the fire lights surrounding the buildings she passed, both big and small.
A large black carriage of sorts pulled up beside her as she skipped her way through town, a window down and a head of hair popped out knowing her name. At a quick glance her eyes gleamed on mirth, "Xōchi?! Είσαι εσύ! Πού ήσασταν; Πού έχω πάει; Τι είναι αυτό το μέρος; Πεινάω έχεις φαγητό?" Her grecian language was coming out in full force but she couldn't be blamed when most of her life on earth was spent in some nightmare fueled slumber. Didn't have any time to pick up the newest languages of the world. It didn't stop the agent of chaos from running up to the window and throwing her arms through the open window and around the beautiful goddess, squeezing her tightly afraid it was all still a terrible dream.
The Aztec Goddess squealed in happiness, taking Coco into her arms in what could be argued as the world’s most uncomfortable hug. The ramble of Greek spilling from Coco’s lips made no sense to Xōchi, but the excitable greeting helped with the context. “You’ve been gone for so long, I haven’t seen you for millenia! And this is how you show up, looking like a street rat?” Not on Xōchi’s watch. “Come in, get in the car. We have so much to catch up on!”
It didn't take being told twice for the dark haired beauty to comply and hop into the large contraption with her long standing friend. If anything Comus was excited for what the rest of this night would bring.
After sitting beside the Aztec for what seemed like ages, when in reality it was just a few moments, Coco began asking questions about the wonderous world she had woken up to. "What is this contraption? How long have I been gone?" Her English was beginning to figure itself out the more she spoke, especially since it was something Xōchi called to her with. Though, it was a lot different from the last time she had heard and used it. So strange to come back to such a changed environment.
It made her wonder about everyone else. Clearly they didn't all sleep as she had. Were they still around? Had any died simply because they felt like it? 'Did someone manage to kill one of them?' her mind was running a mile a minute, only coming to an abrupt stop at her latest thought. An audible gasp spilling from her.
Finally her eyes focused back on her friend beside her, no longer glassy and far away as she was lost in her own world. Voices ushering themselves off back to the dark corners of her mind allowing for listening ears to take a turn in the driver's seat.
In the meantime, Xōchi ordered her driver to make haste back home, there was a fashion emergency awaiting them and Xōchi couldn’t stand seeing Coco look so shabby beside her. “I wasn’t lying when I said you were gone for a long while. It is the year 2022, the Festival started today.” Right on time for Coco to wake up then. “And this ‘contraption’ is a car. Where were you all this time? Nobody has seen you take the ambrosia, how are you alive?” Something wasn’t sitting right with Xōchi, it was like Coco had slept while the world turned without her.
Luckily the airport wasn’t a far journey from Xōchi’s home, so the Goddess was able to usher Coco inside. “The shower is here, my closet is yours. Choose wisely, we’re heading to Acropolis to see Eros.”
Upon entering the lavish home of her dear friend Coco was star struck. She admired everything she passed, running her fingers over the surfaces of things, before her attention was pulled elsewhere. Upon hearing Eros' name the mischievous one grinned and giggled before skipping into the bathroom to figure out how to work the knobs of the shower.
After it was turned on, many attempts to get it right only resulted in Xōchi having to step in to help, she nearly melted down the drain below her bare feet. The feeling of water rushing over felt cleansing, ridding her if the stickiness of sweat that covered her like a second skin. Of the dryness of that… chamber she was bound in for so long.
It was strange, surreal even, the long sleep she had found herself in. Well, she hadn't realized what it was at the time. But after speaking with Xōchi, through her spacious powder room, about what has happened in the world without her, it was the only thing that made sense. Why else would she have missed the last few hundred years or so? Definitely not something she did on purpose. Why would she willingly miss out on all the potential chaos and debauchery? The idea made her sick.
Once the grime and grit were washed from her body it didn’t take Comus long to find the enormous closet filled to the rafters with cloth of varying colors and textures. Her eyes aglow with the excitement of getting to choose something from the beauty’s own personal collection. She called out from the maze that was her closet, “Are you sure I can have one?” Though she knew the answer regardless.
For her long time friend? “Everything in that closet is yours, noyollo icniuh.” There has been far too much that Coco missed out on. The Goddess had mentioned to Xōchi that she had been asleep, the chamber she rested in freezing her in place until now. Perhaps Comus' awakening was a sign that chaos was incoming. The thought of chaos was absolutely thrilling knowing that her boredom will be quelled.
Xōchi and Comus shared the title as Gods of excess, and many of their initial gatherings were spent playing and partying with other Gods and mortals alike. With Comus back, Xōchi felt like the party could truly begin again. But for that, they had to get to the biggest party hotspot first.
“You’ll enjoy Acropolis, Coco. It is a haven built for the likes of us. Xōchi told Comus, putting the final touches on her makeup and outfit, refreshed from traveling at the prospect of having a party. “It is the perfect place to make your debut after sleeping for so long.”
Stepping out of the luxurious wardrobe, a wicked smile plastered across her face, the goddess of revelry and anarchy struck a pose against the doorframe, “Then we shouldn’t keep them waiting~!”
✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦
Upon arriving at Casa de Acropolis, more information had been divulged to the now woken goddess. Not only had she missed centuries of new inventions and fun new ways to cause chaos, a different type of chaos; one of death, recently struck the first day of the Festival just moments before her supposed awakening. Suspicious to say the least, but Comus wasn’t concerned about that. Truthfully, the connection never crossed her mind. She wasn’t one for searching for a deeper meaning in the world around her, too focused on making the most of the here and now.
Which just happened to place them on the doorstep of the infamous party house, run and owned by the frat boys of the Greek pantheon themselves; Hercules and Apollo. Seeing as their car was placed haphazardly in the front, Xōchi’s driver had to swerve in order to not hit it - a bummer in Coco’s eyes - it was clear that they were home. Though from what she had heard about this place the silence stemming from the mansion was a little off putting.
“So much for party,” she pouted and kicked in the door, voice carrying through the seemingly empty and silent home, “Ω ρε γαμώτο! Πού είσαι?!”
The Greek god of love, who had been meandering lazily out of his room, arm slung round the dainty shoulders of some mortal, suddenly stopped when he heard an oh so familiar voice. Practically, and in his defence entirely accidentally, pushing the poor girl over, he ran to the top of the staircase. Hands resting against the bannister, he leant over, it being a miracle that he didn't fall. Eyes, emerald and bright, widened in joy at the sight before him.
Unable to wait any longer, Eros bounded down the stairs, before sweeping Coco off her feet and swinging her around in a wide, and thoroughly unnecessary, circle. "Comus ρε ράτσα, πού ήσουν! Είμαι σε απόλυτη απόγνωση χωρίς εσένα!"
Putting the goddess down, he turned to her companion, slipping back into English as easily as breathing. "Xōchi! Looking beautiful as always." He grabbed her hands, holding them gently. "Tell me. Where did you find her? I hope off causing utter chaos somewhere?" His lips turned up at the corners in a wicked smile as he beamed at his friends.
Xōchi leaned over to give Eros a kiss on either cheek, a formal yet playful greeting amongst the two. “Wandering the streets looking terrible, but I fixed our little Chaos up and brought her to the best place where she can thrive.“ Xōchi then took a moment to look around, sighing in disappointment when she didn’t see the typical Acropolis vibes in place. “Looks like you guys need her.”
Comus screamed with laughter at being rushed and swung around, the adrenaline of seeing such an old friend bringing a sense of euphoria to her. She placed a kiss of her own to his cheek as he set her down and stood off to the side watching her two closest friends greet each other and nodding along as Xōchi explained the situation. “She did and you absolutely do,” she kissed Xōchi once more in thanks for helping her so.
Without giving either of them a chance to react her manic eyes landed on the mortal still standing at the banister above them, hair disheveled and tussled. Looking thoroughly satiated but the expression she wore was one of pure annoyance and jealousy. “Aw, love~! Don’t be upset. Not many people can satisfy our boy here. Well,” she looked between herself and the Aztec, “We can.” The smirk that graced the Grecian's face was downright smug, haughty even. The poor girl didn't know what hit her as she huffed and stomped her way down the stairs, roughly pushing past Chaos like it wouldn’t result in her breaking a bone or two. In the blink of an eye Comus had snatched the mortal by the hair and smashed her face into the door before opening it and pushing her outside in a single, smooth motion.
”I’m so glad to be back~!" Dusting her hands as if she had completed some menial task - like taking out the trash. Now, let’s get this started! There isn’t anything fun going on here. What’s happened? Someone die~?” She laughed, though it felt so strange coming from her, a sound not heard in hundreds of years even to her own ears. Her dark, albeit annoying, laughter that filled the space around them bounced off walls. A dark omen surely to follow.
"I know, it's all terribly droll." Eros replied idly, his gaze moving away from the door as it swung shut. He did feel bad, she had seemed nice enough, but Comus tended to bring out his mischievous side and he wasn't about to deny the goddess her fun after so long away. "They're all at the festival. Though I do hope my grandmother has murdered someone for eating too many hors d'oeuvre..." He stretched his arms above his head lethargically. It had been a night of little sleep and he'd only strayed from his bed when...Amanda? Ashley? When whomever had insisted they head out for food. "It would at least be something to talk about."
Xōchi barely gave the mortal a glance before Coco dealt with her pride accordingly. Of course it was expected for the little girl to be jealous of Coco and herself, what could a mortal do to compete with two elite Goddesses? She waved lazily at the swinging door, her attention directed to her companions instead. “What if I told you there has been a murder, dear love.“ Xōchi answered Eros, as though what she said was a fun bit of gossip (well, considering her companions…). “A shame that none of us were there to see it, but my mother saw the bodies of the two Greek children of death before she left.“
Coco's attention had been piqued a d as she whipped her head back towards their friend , her eyes shone with an emotion unfamiliar to her. "Which ones? Was it Melinoë? Poor Hades… well, poor souls who thought they could get away with it," another laugh. It really would be a fantastic death to witness, someone getting what they're due. The idea made her giddy.
"Makes sense why the house would be so silent. Death clings to them… we should fix that. Give 'em something to celebrate and I guess get their minds off of the tragedy," the brunette finished with a roll of her eyes. Waltzing through the expanse that is the Acropolis, Coco banged on counters and cabinets alike trying to get any and all attention on the fact that they were there and ready to party. It wasn't in her nature to have a party for any other reason than just because. But for the circumstances she supposed a distraction is as good as any.
𝖘 𝖔 𝖑 𝖎 𝖉 𝖆 𝖗 𝖎 𝖙 𝖞
𝖘 𝖔 𝖑 𝖎 𝖉 𝖆 𝖗 𝖎 𝖙 𝖞
𝖘 𝖔 𝖑 𝖎 𝖉 𝖆 𝖗 𝖎 𝖙 𝖞
𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Hades & Persephone's home
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: Thor @metanoia, Hades @sly13 & Persephone @Aewin
𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: Odin || Heimdall
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: Thor @metanoia, Hades @sly13 & Persephone @Aewin
𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: Odin || Heimdall
Though the God of Thunder had never met either prince or princess of the underworld, that didn’t mean he didn’t feel some aspect of pain seeing their bodies laid on the floor. The screams alone that filled the halls of the Olympic club from both Melinoe and Persephone had the penetration power that would make any great warrior cry or feel some form of grief. Thor was no exception to this. He never met them, it’s true, but he heard stories about them from Persephone, and part of him had come to know and appreciate the love that they gave her. As a father himself, though it’s been many years since Thor has laid eyes on both Magni and Modi, he couldn’t comprehend the loss this must have on the Greek’s death family.
Over the duration that she had been his pupil, Thor had grown especially close to her. Whether during their lessons or after or before, there was always one constant and that was family. She'd speak highly about her family: her husband, her kids, Melinoe, Zagreus, and Macaria. Thor had never met them personally, as he never had any reason to past the many stories he heard about them from their mother's lips and the supportive words she spoke about them.
After the brief, yet noteworthy display of heartbreak and anguish that Persephone displayed and she was left with her husband and being guided out of the club by Hati, Thor made his exit too. There wasn’t anything he could do at this point. He wasn’t an investigator like Athena, his brother, Heimdall, or any of the other gods who might be a detective. He’d only get in the way, and of course, there was the matter of his heart hurting for Persephone.
Thor was still in a rough shape, that much was true. His wound was still healing. His shoulder hurt, but it didn’t matter to him as much. Sekhmet, before she ditched him, had done all that she could. HIs main focus was to check on his friend. So that’s what he did.
Hopping into his truck, Thor drove across town. In the hindsight of everything that was happening, he was thankful that Persephone had occasionally invited him over to her home. Or sometimes she’d ask if her lessons could be carried out at her home. Thor didn’t mind because it still meant he was getting paid and sometimes a change of scenery was good for the soul and focus. The drive itself was long.
Going across Seattle, using the highways and street roads, one thing Thor would never grow tired of was the environment that Persephone’s home was in. All natural forest, it reminded him vastly of the forests of Asgard. How green and majestic they were. There was nothing quite like it and the rejuvenating feeling it filled you up with.
“And there it is,” he noted, coming to a stop at the drive way. Still as beautiful as it was the first time he came here. Thor did have a moment of apprehension, though. It was mostly about her husband. Hades, King of the Underworld. It was, if nothing else, intimidating for Thor and he seldom was intimidated.Shaking it off, he exited his truck that sat off to the side and made the trek up and gave the door a few knocks, standing and waiting in long silence.
“Just make sure they're here alright. I wish it was under different circumstances but we don't have time for the normal routine.” Hades paused for a second waiting for the confirmation from the other end of the line before ending the call and placing the phone in his pocket. Hades turned to look at a small picture frame on the shelf just above the fireplace. It was old by the standards of mortals he supposed but it felt like only yesterday to him. It was one of the few occasions the whole family had gotten together for a picture. Seeing their smiles brought back the raging anger that took all his control to keep a lid on top of. “What I wouldn't do to see those smiles one last time.”
Knock Knock Knock
The sounds of knocking shook him from his thoughts as he made his way to the door. Hades slowly opened the door revealing the norse god before him. Hades stared intently at the man before him looking him up and down as if he was judging him before allowing him entry into their home. Hades didn't have any strong feelings one way or another about the norse but Thor had shown his wife kindness and thus earned himself a small pass from the judgment of lord of the underworld.
Almost instantly Hades demeanor softened ever so slightly as he welcomed the Thunder god through his doors. “Thor Odinson, welcome to our humble home.” Hades stepped aside allowing him to enter. “Please join us in the front room, Persephone will be with us shortly.”
“Who is that? Oh!” Like she was summoned, Persephone greeted Thor and Hades at the entrance hall, a tray in her hand with a steaming tea pot, mugs and some biscuit assortments. Persephone looked at Thor in surprise before ushering him further inside the best she could with busy hands.
When seated in their living room, Persephone started pouring tea for Hades. “Would you like some tea, Thor? I’ve brewed us some lavender and chamomile tea.”
When Thor took his seat, opposite of the couple, of course, because he may have been a Norse, but he wasn’t a caveman. He knew how manners worked. “Yeah, sure that sounds nice.” Thor always did like the tea that Persephone brewed up even if he wasn’t much of a tea God himself. As she poured it, he kept dividing his occasional gaze between both Persephone and Hades.”I didn’t mean to drop by unannounced. I imagine with…everything, the last thing you wanted was someone showing up, but I was concerned for you, Persephone. And you as well, Hades. I wanted to see how you were holding up.”
Hades allowed himself to relax ever so slightly as he took his seat beside his wife. As the thunder god spoke Hades watched intently in between sips of his tea. Though he had a feeling he could trust Thor it was simply in his nature to be skeptical of most everyone. “Well I appreciate you stopping by to check on us. Now more than ever it's important to have friends close by.”
Persephone gave Thor a watery smile, grateful for a friend like him. Persephone had chosen to contact Thor to join his dojo out of boredom one day, hoping to spend some hours of the day away from the world tree. Learning self defense never hurt anybody, and Persephone had hoped that she could utilize whatever she had learnt to protect her family. Unfortunately, the choice was stolen from her. “Thank you, Thor. I appreciate your visit too, it helps to know we have support from other pantheons.” While Persephone did not want to dwell upon it, but the death of her children meant that there was a way to kill other Gods as well. Danger loomed over them all where not even ambrosia was enough to save them.
With a smile, Thor nodded, taking a small sip of the surprisingly delicious tea that Persephone had brewed for the three of them. It was true, Thorcould understand the idea of what they were literally experiencing. Since the fall, he had not heard from nor been aware of his two sons’ survival, whether Magni or Modi were alive or dead. That in itself, that he could understand and that’s what pained him the most: to see anyone suffer through that kind of pain -- real or not -- hurt his soul.
He could see the pain in their eyes. Hades was better at hiding it, but no man, god, or primordial being could hide that level of sorrow, so Thor knew what he must do right now was to shift the tone just a little bit. “This tea is delicious by the way. The lavender really highlights the chamomile. And the biscuits are delicious. They’re so buttery!” Even though he wanted to help either her or Hades smile, Thor was genuine. He found the mix of the flavors of tea and the biscuits to be a great combination, despite not being the kind of God that ate anything like it on the regular. He was more of a take-out kind of God.
Hades smirked slightly at the thunder gods' antics before his face returned to his normal stoic one. He could appreciate the efforts Thor was pouring forth to make the situation even the slightest bit more comfortable. It was never easy for anyone to be in such a situation, nevertheless being forced to stare someone such as himself down. “Persephone has always had a way with tea brewing.” Hades said, placing a hand on top of his wifes and looking at her lovingly. “I myself am hopeless when it comes to such skills.” As soon as Hades finished speaking an older woman stepped into the room.
“Excuse me Mr. Blackwell but some of your investors have arrived.”
“Ah yes, thank you very much Grace.” After she left Hades turned to his wife and placed a kiss on her cheek while giving her hand one last squeeze before standing. “Well I suppose business never stops, does it? It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Odinson.” After finishing his farewell Hades turned to leave the leave room where three finely dressed men had appeared and were now waiting for him. The first man was in his late 40’s, the man beside him was clearly in his 50’s to 60’s with a full head of white hair. The last one was a much younger man who could only be in his 20's, possibly 30’s at most. “Right this way gentlemen.” Hades said as he led them down the hall and out of view.
Persephone watched her husband disappear down the hall, a soft smile left on her face after his compliment. “I don’t know what I would do without Hades either.” She admitted to Thor, somewhat lost in her own thoughts. “I wouldn’t be sitting here alive, right now, if it weren’t for him.” To Persephone, her children were everything. Her family was everything. “I wish I had the chance to say the same to my Zagreus and Macaria. Tell them I love them.” Finally Persephone looked at Thor, really taking in his features carefully.
“Even if you’re not close, I hope you can tell your family that you love them. Never take the ones you love for granted.” Persephone had to learn that the hard way, for a second time.
Thor couldn’t help himself from glancing at the investors that passed by the hallway. His eyes counted three of them. It was difficult, even now, for Thor to shut off his naturally curious self. Be it at a friend’s house and comforting them or on the streets of Belltown as The Blue Crusader, he could never truly shut it off. In the back of his mind, he wondered what Hades did. Must be a solid job to afford a place like this fancy house. Definitely made his small studio apartment look like an ant in comparison.
He took a sip of his tea, refocusing on the real reason he was here and what, honestly, mattered the most. As she talked about Hades and her children and just about family in general, Thor couldn’t say he had the same loving relationship with his own. Heimdall was probably the only one of his family he held in any favorable light and even then, that relationship was strained at best. “I wish it was that easy, Persephone, I really do. My family…there’s so much to unpack there that I wouldn’t even know where to begin, you know?” He stared down into the cup in his hands, thinking about the last time he didn’t have a loathing feeling for his father. Heimdall, as less of a pain in the ass as he is in comparison, was a kissass. And Thor just couldn’t ignore that, or maybe he refused to?
Persephone took a sip of her tea as she listened to Thor. “Perhaps now is the time to consider your relationships carefully, whether holding onto the past is such a good idea.” Persephone knew it was easier said than done, she had her own grudges she was fighting. Demeter came to mind, a loving mother that tore the world looking for her but Persephone never appreciated the effort in the past. Her heavy heart sank some more as she realized the pain she put her own mother through, dismissing her as an overbearing parent only so Persephone could enjoy the taste of freedom offered by Hades. “I apologise for meddling, my thoughts are all over the place.”
Thor shook his head. “No need to apologize. It’s quite alright.” The truth was Persephone was absolutely right in everything she said - the God of Thunder knew that much. He might not be ready to do what she said quite yet, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see that what she said was right.
Between his brothers and his father, Thor had avoided them for so long. He neglected everything that Odin tried to do in terms of reaching out, refusing to even accept his olive branches. For decades, Thor tried to justify it by what happened in the past, but how long could he truly keep putting it off? How long could he justify not at least hearing Odin out? Eventually he would have to be the honorable god he always professed that he was and at least give Odin a chance to either surprise him or prove him right that he always will be swine.
“You know what’s hilarious? I came here to check up on you, but here you are doing that very thing for me. Maybe the student has surpassed the teacher.” He chuckled at the thought.
Persephone laughed alongside Thor, allowing the bizarreness of their situation amuse her for a little bit. “Everybody needs someone to look out for them. I’m glad I have you to turn to. And I hope to be a good friend in return.” She paused for a moment, the quiet comfortable between the two of them. Another thought lingered in her mind, a worry that felt selfish to even consider above her grief. “I had been looking forward to the luncheon for so long. It was the first in a while that Zagreus and Macaria decided to attend. I wanted my family in one place, so I could have broken the news to all at once.”
“News?” Thor muttered. He studied her face, the way her expressions changed from content joy to something that made him think she was bothered by something.
What was once meant to be a golden opportunity for bonding and delight now tainted by darkness and blood. “I’m with child. Hades… he doesn’t know yet. I wanted to tell them all together, to celebrate together. Now… I don’t know what to do anymore.”
The God of Thunder stood there, still looking at Persephone, trying to process what she just confessed to him and not her husband. That alone was something worth taking a moment or two to digest. Did it speak to the level of comfort their friendship had? Perhaps, but Thor also couldn’t stop his mind from going to a place of even greater concern for her. A day that was supposed to be filled with cheer was now one they would never forget.
“Persephone..” Thor spoke until he got her attention, “I’m so sorry. For everything.” Though he sat across from her, Thor moved to the same couch that she sat on, sitting next to his friend, and grabbed her hand, squeezing it just slightly. “I don’t know what you should do, but if you ever need anything, I promise as your friend and your teacher, I’ll do anything I can to help. Should you wish to tell Hades and want support, I’ll be there in the hour! I promise you’re not alone in any sense.”
It was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She hadn’t meant to reveal everything to Thor, especially in such a sudden manner. His support meant the world to Persephone, a friend in her corner in a time she felt so lost and unsure. “Thank you, Thor. I didn’t expect you to have the answers, but your assurance alone means so much to me.” She spoke sincerely, giving him a tired smile. Exhaustion was starting to set in after such a trying day - or maybe it was the double dose of calming tea she had brewed that she could blame - but she slumped forward with her elbows on her knees holding up her head. “Thank you, really.” She repeated, unable to say much more.
“You never have to thank me. You’re my friend and favorite student.” Of course he wished he could do more to help her, but perhaps this was where he tagged out and let her husband, or that friendly butler take over. At the end of the day, her knowing that no matter the time of day or where he might be or what state he might be in (especially given how reckless he’s been as of late at night) that Thor would drop everything to be there for her was enough to not fret over.
Thor stood up, offering a hand for a tired Persephone. “I think it’s time I take my leave. It’s a long drive back into town, but will you be okay? I can stay a bit longer if you need me to.”
Persephone lifted her head to look at Thor, shaking her head in refusal. “I have taken more than enough of your time. Thank you again, for listening.” The thanks came out without her thinking, making Persephone offer Thor a sheepish smile. Persephone then stood up, giving Thor one last hug before seeing him to the door. With Thor’s assurance still ringing in her head, she waved her friend goodbye with renewed morale.
Over the duration that she had been his pupil, Thor had grown especially close to her. Whether during their lessons or after or before, there was always one constant and that was family. She'd speak highly about her family: her husband, her kids, Melinoe, Zagreus, and Macaria. Thor had never met them personally, as he never had any reason to past the many stories he heard about them from their mother's lips and the supportive words she spoke about them.
After the brief, yet noteworthy display of heartbreak and anguish that Persephone displayed and she was left with her husband and being guided out of the club by Hati, Thor made his exit too. There wasn’t anything he could do at this point. He wasn’t an investigator like Athena, his brother, Heimdall, or any of the other gods who might be a detective. He’d only get in the way, and of course, there was the matter of his heart hurting for Persephone.
Thor was still in a rough shape, that much was true. His wound was still healing. His shoulder hurt, but it didn’t matter to him as much. Sekhmet, before she ditched him, had done all that she could. HIs main focus was to check on his friend. So that’s what he did.
Hopping into his truck, Thor drove across town. In the hindsight of everything that was happening, he was thankful that Persephone had occasionally invited him over to her home. Or sometimes she’d ask if her lessons could be carried out at her home. Thor didn’t mind because it still meant he was getting paid and sometimes a change of scenery was good for the soul and focus. The drive itself was long.
Going across Seattle, using the highways and street roads, one thing Thor would never grow tired of was the environment that Persephone’s home was in. All natural forest, it reminded him vastly of the forests of Asgard. How green and majestic they were. There was nothing quite like it and the rejuvenating feeling it filled you up with.
“And there it is,” he noted, coming to a stop at the drive way. Still as beautiful as it was the first time he came here. Thor did have a moment of apprehension, though. It was mostly about her husband. Hades, King of the Underworld. It was, if nothing else, intimidating for Thor and he seldom was intimidated.Shaking it off, he exited his truck that sat off to the side and made the trek up and gave the door a few knocks, standing and waiting in long silence.
“Just make sure they're here alright. I wish it was under different circumstances but we don't have time for the normal routine.” Hades paused for a second waiting for the confirmation from the other end of the line before ending the call and placing the phone in his pocket. Hades turned to look at a small picture frame on the shelf just above the fireplace. It was old by the standards of mortals he supposed but it felt like only yesterday to him. It was one of the few occasions the whole family had gotten together for a picture. Seeing their smiles brought back the raging anger that took all his control to keep a lid on top of. “What I wouldn't do to see those smiles one last time.”
Knock Knock Knock
The sounds of knocking shook him from his thoughts as he made his way to the door. Hades slowly opened the door revealing the norse god before him. Hades stared intently at the man before him looking him up and down as if he was judging him before allowing him entry into their home. Hades didn't have any strong feelings one way or another about the norse but Thor had shown his wife kindness and thus earned himself a small pass from the judgment of lord of the underworld.
Almost instantly Hades demeanor softened ever so slightly as he welcomed the Thunder god through his doors. “Thor Odinson, welcome to our humble home.” Hades stepped aside allowing him to enter. “Please join us in the front room, Persephone will be with us shortly.”
“Who is that? Oh!” Like she was summoned, Persephone greeted Thor and Hades at the entrance hall, a tray in her hand with a steaming tea pot, mugs and some biscuit assortments. Persephone looked at Thor in surprise before ushering him further inside the best she could with busy hands.
When seated in their living room, Persephone started pouring tea for Hades. “Would you like some tea, Thor? I’ve brewed us some lavender and chamomile tea.”
When Thor took his seat, opposite of the couple, of course, because he may have been a Norse, but he wasn’t a caveman. He knew how manners worked. “Yeah, sure that sounds nice.” Thor always did like the tea that Persephone brewed up even if he wasn’t much of a tea God himself. As she poured it, he kept dividing his occasional gaze between both Persephone and Hades.”I didn’t mean to drop by unannounced. I imagine with…everything, the last thing you wanted was someone showing up, but I was concerned for you, Persephone. And you as well, Hades. I wanted to see how you were holding up.”
Hades allowed himself to relax ever so slightly as he took his seat beside his wife. As the thunder god spoke Hades watched intently in between sips of his tea. Though he had a feeling he could trust Thor it was simply in his nature to be skeptical of most everyone. “Well I appreciate you stopping by to check on us. Now more than ever it's important to have friends close by.”
Persephone gave Thor a watery smile, grateful for a friend like him. Persephone had chosen to contact Thor to join his dojo out of boredom one day, hoping to spend some hours of the day away from the world tree. Learning self defense never hurt anybody, and Persephone had hoped that she could utilize whatever she had learnt to protect her family. Unfortunately, the choice was stolen from her. “Thank you, Thor. I appreciate your visit too, it helps to know we have support from other pantheons.” While Persephone did not want to dwell upon it, but the death of her children meant that there was a way to kill other Gods as well. Danger loomed over them all where not even ambrosia was enough to save them.
With a smile, Thor nodded, taking a small sip of the surprisingly delicious tea that Persephone had brewed for the three of them. It was true, Thorcould understand the idea of what they were literally experiencing. Since the fall, he had not heard from nor been aware of his two sons’ survival, whether Magni or Modi were alive or dead. That in itself, that he could understand and that’s what pained him the most: to see anyone suffer through that kind of pain -- real or not -- hurt his soul.
He could see the pain in their eyes. Hades was better at hiding it, but no man, god, or primordial being could hide that level of sorrow, so Thor knew what he must do right now was to shift the tone just a little bit. “This tea is delicious by the way. The lavender really highlights the chamomile. And the biscuits are delicious. They’re so buttery!” Even though he wanted to help either her or Hades smile, Thor was genuine. He found the mix of the flavors of tea and the biscuits to be a great combination, despite not being the kind of God that ate anything like it on the regular. He was more of a take-out kind of God.
Hades smirked slightly at the thunder gods' antics before his face returned to his normal stoic one. He could appreciate the efforts Thor was pouring forth to make the situation even the slightest bit more comfortable. It was never easy for anyone to be in such a situation, nevertheless being forced to stare someone such as himself down. “Persephone has always had a way with tea brewing.” Hades said, placing a hand on top of his wifes and looking at her lovingly. “I myself am hopeless when it comes to such skills.” As soon as Hades finished speaking an older woman stepped into the room.
“Excuse me Mr. Blackwell but some of your investors have arrived.”
“Ah yes, thank you very much Grace.” After she left Hades turned to his wife and placed a kiss on her cheek while giving her hand one last squeeze before standing. “Well I suppose business never stops, does it? It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Odinson.” After finishing his farewell Hades turned to leave the leave room where three finely dressed men had appeared and were now waiting for him. The first man was in his late 40’s, the man beside him was clearly in his 50’s to 60’s with a full head of white hair. The last one was a much younger man who could only be in his 20's, possibly 30’s at most. “Right this way gentlemen.” Hades said as he led them down the hall and out of view.
Persephone watched her husband disappear down the hall, a soft smile left on her face after his compliment. “I don’t know what I would do without Hades either.” She admitted to Thor, somewhat lost in her own thoughts. “I wouldn’t be sitting here alive, right now, if it weren’t for him.” To Persephone, her children were everything. Her family was everything. “I wish I had the chance to say the same to my Zagreus and Macaria. Tell them I love them.” Finally Persephone looked at Thor, really taking in his features carefully.
“Even if you’re not close, I hope you can tell your family that you love them. Never take the ones you love for granted.” Persephone had to learn that the hard way, for a second time.
Thor couldn’t help himself from glancing at the investors that passed by the hallway. His eyes counted three of them. It was difficult, even now, for Thor to shut off his naturally curious self. Be it at a friend’s house and comforting them or on the streets of Belltown as The Blue Crusader, he could never truly shut it off. In the back of his mind, he wondered what Hades did. Must be a solid job to afford a place like this fancy house. Definitely made his small studio apartment look like an ant in comparison.
He took a sip of his tea, refocusing on the real reason he was here and what, honestly, mattered the most. As she talked about Hades and her children and just about family in general, Thor couldn’t say he had the same loving relationship with his own. Heimdall was probably the only one of his family he held in any favorable light and even then, that relationship was strained at best. “I wish it was that easy, Persephone, I really do. My family…there’s so much to unpack there that I wouldn’t even know where to begin, you know?” He stared down into the cup in his hands, thinking about the last time he didn’t have a loathing feeling for his father. Heimdall, as less of a pain in the ass as he is in comparison, was a kissass. And Thor just couldn’t ignore that, or maybe he refused to?
Persephone took a sip of her tea as she listened to Thor. “Perhaps now is the time to consider your relationships carefully, whether holding onto the past is such a good idea.” Persephone knew it was easier said than done, she had her own grudges she was fighting. Demeter came to mind, a loving mother that tore the world looking for her but Persephone never appreciated the effort in the past. Her heavy heart sank some more as she realized the pain she put her own mother through, dismissing her as an overbearing parent only so Persephone could enjoy the taste of freedom offered by Hades. “I apologise for meddling, my thoughts are all over the place.”
Thor shook his head. “No need to apologize. It’s quite alright.” The truth was Persephone was absolutely right in everything she said - the God of Thunder knew that much. He might not be ready to do what she said quite yet, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see that what she said was right.
Between his brothers and his father, Thor had avoided them for so long. He neglected everything that Odin tried to do in terms of reaching out, refusing to even accept his olive branches. For decades, Thor tried to justify it by what happened in the past, but how long could he truly keep putting it off? How long could he justify not at least hearing Odin out? Eventually he would have to be the honorable god he always professed that he was and at least give Odin a chance to either surprise him or prove him right that he always will be swine.
“You know what’s hilarious? I came here to check up on you, but here you are doing that very thing for me. Maybe the student has surpassed the teacher.” He chuckled at the thought.
Persephone laughed alongside Thor, allowing the bizarreness of their situation amuse her for a little bit. “Everybody needs someone to look out for them. I’m glad I have you to turn to. And I hope to be a good friend in return.” She paused for a moment, the quiet comfortable between the two of them. Another thought lingered in her mind, a worry that felt selfish to even consider above her grief. “I had been looking forward to the luncheon for so long. It was the first in a while that Zagreus and Macaria decided to attend. I wanted my family in one place, so I could have broken the news to all at once.”
“News?” Thor muttered. He studied her face, the way her expressions changed from content joy to something that made him think she was bothered by something.
What was once meant to be a golden opportunity for bonding and delight now tainted by darkness and blood. “I’m with child. Hades… he doesn’t know yet. I wanted to tell them all together, to celebrate together. Now… I don’t know what to do anymore.”
The God of Thunder stood there, still looking at Persephone, trying to process what she just confessed to him and not her husband. That alone was something worth taking a moment or two to digest. Did it speak to the level of comfort their friendship had? Perhaps, but Thor also couldn’t stop his mind from going to a place of even greater concern for her. A day that was supposed to be filled with cheer was now one they would never forget.
“Persephone..” Thor spoke until he got her attention, “I’m so sorry. For everything.” Though he sat across from her, Thor moved to the same couch that she sat on, sitting next to his friend, and grabbed her hand, squeezing it just slightly. “I don’t know what you should do, but if you ever need anything, I promise as your friend and your teacher, I’ll do anything I can to help. Should you wish to tell Hades and want support, I’ll be there in the hour! I promise you’re not alone in any sense.”
It was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She hadn’t meant to reveal everything to Thor, especially in such a sudden manner. His support meant the world to Persephone, a friend in her corner in a time she felt so lost and unsure. “Thank you, Thor. I didn’t expect you to have the answers, but your assurance alone means so much to me.” She spoke sincerely, giving him a tired smile. Exhaustion was starting to set in after such a trying day - or maybe it was the double dose of calming tea she had brewed that she could blame - but she slumped forward with her elbows on her knees holding up her head. “Thank you, really.” She repeated, unable to say much more.
“You never have to thank me. You’re my friend and favorite student.” Of course he wished he could do more to help her, but perhaps this was where he tagged out and let her husband, or that friendly butler take over. At the end of the day, her knowing that no matter the time of day or where he might be or what state he might be in (especially given how reckless he’s been as of late at night) that Thor would drop everything to be there for her was enough to not fret over.
Thor stood up, offering a hand for a tired Persephone. “I think it’s time I take my leave. It’s a long drive back into town, but will you be okay? I can stay a bit longer if you need me to.”
Persephone lifted her head to look at Thor, shaking her head in refusal. “I have taken more than enough of your time. Thank you again, for listening.” The thanks came out without her thinking, making Persephone offer Thor a sheepish smile. Persephone then stood up, giving Thor one last hug before seeing him to the door. With Thor’s assurance still ringing in her head, she waved her friend goodbye with renewed morale.
𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲?
𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐔𝐖 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫
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Perhaps it truly had been a mistake to attend the luncheon.
Sweet Macaria, her only ally in a disturbed world. The only Goddess that Sekhmet bonded with on another, a deeper level. The closest thing to a best friend the Egyptian goddess had. Had. Macaria, who had been kind and accepting, the one who supported Sekhmet through her darkest years, now no longer counted amongst the living.
Had.
Tearing her eyes from Macaria to gaze upon the second body hurt just as much. Whispers around her named him Zagreus, but she only knew him as another forgotten name; as the beautiful mortal with so much life in him. Sekhmet choked on her spit, climbing from her seat beside Thor to stagger outside. The smell of blood was too much; it called to her.
She knew she couldn’t remain at the festival any longer in this state. Somehow Sekhmet managed to take her leave, practically throwing herself into her car in her haste to get away from the scene. As she pulled out, her hand dipped into her pocket to pull out her phone and ring the only number that frequented her call history besides Macaria.
The phone rang twice before she heard a familiar voice through the line - a sweet nurse on phone duty sounding infinitely as tired as Sekhmet felt. “I’m going to be early for my shift. I’m already on the way.” She was met with a pause and shuffling of paper on the other line.
“Don’t care, I’ll work for free if I have to. Just get ready for the handover in thirty.” Sekhmet clicked the hangup button before tossing the device to the back seat. Any arguments the nurse would have could wait till she arrived. Not that it mattered, there was always a shortage of help in the wards. Nobody would complain about having the extra hand.
The immediate distraction that driving to work provided was welcome. Sekhmet parked in her usual bay before pulling out a fresh set of clothes. The last thing she needed was for people to question the club attire in the staff room.
When Sekhmet finally arrived at the emergency unit, she felt her grief go numb as though someone else was controlling her. She checked the nurse’s station for the list of active cases, anticipating her first case of the shift to be the one to make her forget the events of the day.
Time passed as it always did. People came and left, one way or another.
At night the paramedics rolled in another victim into Sekhmet’s emergency unit. There was no real haste to it. The wound was patched and the victim wouldn’t be bleeding out any time soon. It was a simple stab wound. The victim herself wasn’t too thrilled about that too. She was just frowning as the gurney she was on was wheeled in.
“Female, 27, stabbed in the left thigh with glass. No shards from what we could see. Hasn’t consumed alcohol or drugs. Allegedly.” One of the paramedics said as he passed Sekhmet and handed her the quick notes they had taken. It was mostly about her physical condition and status. She was a remarkably healthy woman.
“I haven’t!” Isabel was quick to retort. The paramedics didn’t acknowledge her complaints as they rolled her into one of the rooms.
Before Sekhmet could get into the room the paramedic quickly stopped her. “She’s an angry one.” He warned.
“She won’t be the first or only in this ward,” Sekhmet deadpanned. She took the notes and gave it a cursory glance but most of her attention was on the woman in front of her. The stab wound had been dealt with by the paramedics, but they couldn’t take any risks. Even the slightest nick to the femoral artery would spell a bloody end for the mortal.
The paramedics left the women in the ward, so Sekhmet started her usual routine. “I need to follow standard procedure, need to make sure you’re not dying.” Sekhmet warned. “You’ll need an MRI scan to see if there is any damage to your muscle tissue, and some blood tests to ensure there are no internal bleeds. But first…” The notes mentioned a regular blood pressure but things could change very quickly at the wards. Luckily the patient - Isabel Markov according to the notes - hadn’t been stitched prior to admission, making things slightly easier. “Can you tell me if you are hurting anywhere else?”
“Did you just really ask me that?” Isabel said with a raised eyebrow but she then quickly let out a sigh and fell back into the bed she was placed on. “My leg hurts like hell-“ She had refused any painkillers in the ambulance. “-but otherwise I’m feeling perfectly fine. Despite what those guys seemed to insinuate I really didn’t take any drugs or alcohol. Even though I could really use a drink.” Not that she was going to get one. In between antibiotics and god knows what else she’d have to take she wouldn’t be allowed to touch booze for two months. That was far too long to process the fact that she had some sort of crazy, psycho, killer sister.
As she laid down she did turn her head towards her doctor. “Hey… you’re not going to call my emergency contact for this right? Really it’s just a little scratch. It just looks bad I think. Lots of blood but that doesn’t mean anything. Right?” There was just a slight hint of desperation in her elsewise fairly neutral tone. She didn’t want her dad to know she got stabbed. It would create too many questions and there was far too much going on already for her to tangle him up now with this as well.
Sekhmet considered her options, pursing her lips in thought. “Can you tell me about the incident? Obviously this isn’t self-inflicted.” She probed instead, before sighing. Angry patients don’t like being questioned and Sekhmet wasn’t in the mood to be annoyed. “I can’t report anything you don’t want me to, but I will need to write up an incident report without your personal details if you don’t want the police or your contact involved.” Perhaps a little comforting, perhaps not. Ms Markov was a grown adult, and if her reports came back normal and nothing developed overnight then… Sekhmet had no choice but to follow her patient’s wishes. Her eyes caught nail wounds on Isabel’s hands that had been cleaned and disinfected by the paramedics on the way, confirming Sekhmet’s suspicions that Isabel had been under stress up until recently. “I won’t call your emergency contact, but I may need to should something happen overnight.”
Isabel let out a sigh of relief when she heard her emergency contact wouldn’t be called. The last thing she needed was for her dad to come rushing in. Isa had far too many questions for him right now to meet him on such unequal ground. She lifted her hands up meekly. The adrenaline was already leaving her. Her body began to feel sore from the fighting. “I didn’t do this myself this time.” She quipped as she felt hazy for a second. The second she heard herself say it she snapped out of it. She pulled herself up to sit upright in the bed. It hurt but she would withstand it. “Right, report.” She quickly changed subject as she tried to appear more awake. “It’s a weird story. I just came into my room and there was some… stranger standing there. One thing led to another and we got into a fight.” She left out the fact that said stranger was some highly trained and blood curdling savage fighter. And that she was her sister in at least some capacity. The cops didn’t need to know that. “I would’ve won if she didn’t stab me! Right then security came in. After that things are a bit.. fuzzy.” She quickly added. She would’ve won if that stranger hadn’t stabbed her. She was sure of that! She always won. She always had to win.
After she said her story she knew she couldn’t hold the upright position on the bed. Slowly she let her fall back again. She felt a bit sleepy. That was probably the blood loss. Nothing she couldn’t fight with some will power. “Not really the five star hotel suite bed I was hoping to sleep in tonight, but I guess there are worse places to have to stay at night.” She said with a faint smile. Then she looked back at Doctor Ayad. “I’ll be alright, right doctor?”
Isabel’s wavering speech and declining consciousness was alarming for Sekhmet, and the swelling around her thigh seemed to be getting worse despite the bandages. Something told her that she didn’t have much time to demand a scan from the radiology department before Isabel’s injuries would turn critical. Her hand hovered over the pressured bandage, her godly essence probing at the wound to seek for internal damage.
There, roughly half an inch of glass embedded deep into her thigh and dangerously close to the femoral artery. As Sekhmet pressed the emergency call button beside Isabel’s bed, she kept her hand against Isabel’s thigh to maintain pressure. “Ms Markov, we need to retrieve this glass shard still in your thigh. You’ll be fine, but because you’ll be under anesthetic I will have no choice but to call your emergency contact.” Sekhmet warned as doctors rushed into Isabel’s ward.
“There’s swelling of the thigh, I can feel an object still embedded. Suspected aneurysm. Send her to the OT, it needs retrieval and stitches.” Sekhmet barked orders as assistants flooded the room. She turned back to Isabel one more time, giving her arm an assuring squeeze. “You’re in safe hands, Ms Markov. Leave it to us.”
“Wait what?” Isabel jolted up when she heard she had to be put under, but was immediately pushed down again by a nurse. “Don’t call him! Really you shouldn’t-“ Her eyes darted around. It was happening fast, but Isabel was used to these kinds of situations. When something escalates this fast all you can really do is go with the flow. She swallowed her last words of protest. Instead grabbed her doctor’s arm and looked her straight in the eyes. “Do me a favor alright. When he comes in, tell him I know about my sister.”
Sekhmet remained in the ward as Isabel’s bed was wheeled out. There wasn’t any time for her to worry for the little mortal when there was so much left to do. Sekhmet wasn’t even sure if she wanted to get involved with petty family drama when her own was enough. She followed the team shortly afterwards, maintaining distance as Isabel was prepared for surgery and only left the viewing room when the anesthesiologist walked in.
Duty calls.
At the nurse’s station, she pulled up Isabel’s admission records, allowing the Goddess to quickly pull up the number of her next of kin - Alexander Markov. As expected, Isabel didn’t want her father to get involved and considering the favor she’d asked of her? Reality television levels of drama could be expected. She dialed the number on the screen and when she heard the call get picked up, Sekhmet got started.
“Good evening, I am Dr. Nadia Ayad from UW medical center. Is this Alexander Markov?”
There was a very long pause coming from the other end.
“Sekhmet?”
“Yes, good, so-” It took a moment for Sekhmet to register exactly what she heard from the other side, having been relying on auto-pilot to guide her through the phone call. The voice was unmistaken on the other end, and her face immediately soured. “Ares.”
It took another moment for Sekhmet to realize exactly why she was on the line in the first place. “You’re Alexander Markov?”
”I am. Why are you calling me?” There was just a slight hint of worry in his voice.
Perhaps it was the result of the day Sekhmet had, or perhaps she was always waiting to get one over Ares. Regardless, with everything fitting into place as it was, she was thrilled. “It appears Isabel Markov is listed here as your daughter, interesting. Is that what you’ve been up to these last-” She paused to read Isabel’s date of birth, “Twenty seven years?”
“Sekhmet.” There was clear exasperation in his voice. “What happened to her?”
“Like father, like daughter, Ares. Getting into trouble where she shouldn’t. Mortals are terribly weak, so easy to break. A single stab wound is enough to send them to the gates of death’s realm.” Sekhmet couldn’t hide the malicious grin any longer, having to turn her body to face the wall so her co-workers couldn’t question her.
Again there was a long pause from the other end.
“It’s good to hear that deep down I am still right about you. I’ll be there promptly.” After that Sekhmet was met with beeping noise only. Ares had hung up.
Sweet Macaria, her only ally in a disturbed world. The only Goddess that Sekhmet bonded with on another, a deeper level. The closest thing to a best friend the Egyptian goddess had. Had. Macaria, who had been kind and accepting, the one who supported Sekhmet through her darkest years, now no longer counted amongst the living.
Had.
Tearing her eyes from Macaria to gaze upon the second body hurt just as much. Whispers around her named him Zagreus, but she only knew him as another forgotten name; as the beautiful mortal with so much life in him. Sekhmet choked on her spit, climbing from her seat beside Thor to stagger outside. The smell of blood was too much; it called to her.
She knew she couldn’t remain at the festival any longer in this state. Somehow Sekhmet managed to take her leave, practically throwing herself into her car in her haste to get away from the scene. As she pulled out, her hand dipped into her pocket to pull out her phone and ring the only number that frequented her call history besides Macaria.
The phone rang twice before she heard a familiar voice through the line - a sweet nurse on phone duty sounding infinitely as tired as Sekhmet felt. “I’m going to be early for my shift. I’m already on the way.” She was met with a pause and shuffling of paper on the other line.
“But you still have six hours-”
“Don’t care, I’ll work for free if I have to. Just get ready for the handover in thirty.” Sekhmet clicked the hangup button before tossing the device to the back seat. Any arguments the nurse would have could wait till she arrived. Not that it mattered, there was always a shortage of help in the wards. Nobody would complain about having the extra hand.
The immediate distraction that driving to work provided was welcome. Sekhmet parked in her usual bay before pulling out a fresh set of clothes. The last thing she needed was for people to question the club attire in the staff room.
When Sekhmet finally arrived at the emergency unit, she felt her grief go numb as though someone else was controlling her. She checked the nurse’s station for the list of active cases, anticipating her first case of the shift to be the one to make her forget the events of the day.
Time passed as it always did. People came and left, one way or another.
At night the paramedics rolled in another victim into Sekhmet’s emergency unit. There was no real haste to it. The wound was patched and the victim wouldn’t be bleeding out any time soon. It was a simple stab wound. The victim herself wasn’t too thrilled about that too. She was just frowning as the gurney she was on was wheeled in.
“Female, 27, stabbed in the left thigh with glass. No shards from what we could see. Hasn’t consumed alcohol or drugs. Allegedly.” One of the paramedics said as he passed Sekhmet and handed her the quick notes they had taken. It was mostly about her physical condition and status. She was a remarkably healthy woman.
“I haven’t!” Isabel was quick to retort. The paramedics didn’t acknowledge her complaints as they rolled her into one of the rooms.
Before Sekhmet could get into the room the paramedic quickly stopped her. “She’s an angry one.” He warned.
“She won’t be the first or only in this ward,” Sekhmet deadpanned. She took the notes and gave it a cursory glance but most of her attention was on the woman in front of her. The stab wound had been dealt with by the paramedics, but they couldn’t take any risks. Even the slightest nick to the femoral artery would spell a bloody end for the mortal.
The paramedics left the women in the ward, so Sekhmet started her usual routine. “I need to follow standard procedure, need to make sure you’re not dying.” Sekhmet warned. “You’ll need an MRI scan to see if there is any damage to your muscle tissue, and some blood tests to ensure there are no internal bleeds. But first…” The notes mentioned a regular blood pressure but things could change very quickly at the wards. Luckily the patient - Isabel Markov according to the notes - hadn’t been stitched prior to admission, making things slightly easier. “Can you tell me if you are hurting anywhere else?”
“Did you just really ask me that?” Isabel said with a raised eyebrow but she then quickly let out a sigh and fell back into the bed she was placed on. “My leg hurts like hell-“ She had refused any painkillers in the ambulance. “-but otherwise I’m feeling perfectly fine. Despite what those guys seemed to insinuate I really didn’t take any drugs or alcohol. Even though I could really use a drink.” Not that she was going to get one. In between antibiotics and god knows what else she’d have to take she wouldn’t be allowed to touch booze for two months. That was far too long to process the fact that she had some sort of crazy, psycho, killer sister.
As she laid down she did turn her head towards her doctor. “Hey… you’re not going to call my emergency contact for this right? Really it’s just a little scratch. It just looks bad I think. Lots of blood but that doesn’t mean anything. Right?” There was just a slight hint of desperation in her elsewise fairly neutral tone. She didn’t want her dad to know she got stabbed. It would create too many questions and there was far too much going on already for her to tangle him up now with this as well.
Sekhmet considered her options, pursing her lips in thought. “Can you tell me about the incident? Obviously this isn’t self-inflicted.” She probed instead, before sighing. Angry patients don’t like being questioned and Sekhmet wasn’t in the mood to be annoyed. “I can’t report anything you don’t want me to, but I will need to write up an incident report without your personal details if you don’t want the police or your contact involved.” Perhaps a little comforting, perhaps not. Ms Markov was a grown adult, and if her reports came back normal and nothing developed overnight then… Sekhmet had no choice but to follow her patient’s wishes. Her eyes caught nail wounds on Isabel’s hands that had been cleaned and disinfected by the paramedics on the way, confirming Sekhmet’s suspicions that Isabel had been under stress up until recently. “I won’t call your emergency contact, but I may need to should something happen overnight.”
Isabel let out a sigh of relief when she heard her emergency contact wouldn’t be called. The last thing she needed was for her dad to come rushing in. Isa had far too many questions for him right now to meet him on such unequal ground. She lifted her hands up meekly. The adrenaline was already leaving her. Her body began to feel sore from the fighting. “I didn’t do this myself this time.” She quipped as she felt hazy for a second. The second she heard herself say it she snapped out of it. She pulled herself up to sit upright in the bed. It hurt but she would withstand it. “Right, report.” She quickly changed subject as she tried to appear more awake. “It’s a weird story. I just came into my room and there was some… stranger standing there. One thing led to another and we got into a fight.” She left out the fact that said stranger was some highly trained and blood curdling savage fighter. And that she was her sister in at least some capacity. The cops didn’t need to know that. “I would’ve won if she didn’t stab me! Right then security came in. After that things are a bit.. fuzzy.” She quickly added. She would’ve won if that stranger hadn’t stabbed her. She was sure of that! She always won. She always had to win.
After she said her story she knew she couldn’t hold the upright position on the bed. Slowly she let her fall back again. She felt a bit sleepy. That was probably the blood loss. Nothing she couldn’t fight with some will power. “Not really the five star hotel suite bed I was hoping to sleep in tonight, but I guess there are worse places to have to stay at night.” She said with a faint smile. Then she looked back at Doctor Ayad. “I’ll be alright, right doctor?”
Isabel’s wavering speech and declining consciousness was alarming for Sekhmet, and the swelling around her thigh seemed to be getting worse despite the bandages. Something told her that she didn’t have much time to demand a scan from the radiology department before Isabel’s injuries would turn critical. Her hand hovered over the pressured bandage, her godly essence probing at the wound to seek for internal damage.
There, roughly half an inch of glass embedded deep into her thigh and dangerously close to the femoral artery. As Sekhmet pressed the emergency call button beside Isabel’s bed, she kept her hand against Isabel’s thigh to maintain pressure. “Ms Markov, we need to retrieve this glass shard still in your thigh. You’ll be fine, but because you’ll be under anesthetic I will have no choice but to call your emergency contact.” Sekhmet warned as doctors rushed into Isabel’s ward.
“There’s swelling of the thigh, I can feel an object still embedded. Suspected aneurysm. Send her to the OT, it needs retrieval and stitches.” Sekhmet barked orders as assistants flooded the room. She turned back to Isabel one more time, giving her arm an assuring squeeze. “You’re in safe hands, Ms Markov. Leave it to us.”
“Wait what?” Isabel jolted up when she heard she had to be put under, but was immediately pushed down again by a nurse. “Don’t call him! Really you shouldn’t-“ Her eyes darted around. It was happening fast, but Isabel was used to these kinds of situations. When something escalates this fast all you can really do is go with the flow. She swallowed her last words of protest. Instead grabbed her doctor’s arm and looked her straight in the eyes. “Do me a favor alright. When he comes in, tell him I know about my sister.”
Sekhmet remained in the ward as Isabel’s bed was wheeled out. There wasn’t any time for her to worry for the little mortal when there was so much left to do. Sekhmet wasn’t even sure if she wanted to get involved with petty family drama when her own was enough. She followed the team shortly afterwards, maintaining distance as Isabel was prepared for surgery and only left the viewing room when the anesthesiologist walked in.
Duty calls.
At the nurse’s station, she pulled up Isabel’s admission records, allowing the Goddess to quickly pull up the number of her next of kin - Alexander Markov. As expected, Isabel didn’t want her father to get involved and considering the favor she’d asked of her? Reality television levels of drama could be expected. She dialed the number on the screen and when she heard the call get picked up, Sekhmet got started.
“Good evening, I am Dr. Nadia Ayad from UW medical center. Is this Alexander Markov?”
There was a very long pause coming from the other end.
“Sekhmet?”
“Yes, good, so-” It took a moment for Sekhmet to register exactly what she heard from the other side, having been relying on auto-pilot to guide her through the phone call. The voice was unmistaken on the other end, and her face immediately soured. “Ares.”
It took another moment for Sekhmet to realize exactly why she was on the line in the first place. “You’re Alexander Markov?”
”I am. Why are you calling me?” There was just a slight hint of worry in his voice.
Perhaps it was the result of the day Sekhmet had, or perhaps she was always waiting to get one over Ares. Regardless, with everything fitting into place as it was, she was thrilled. “It appears Isabel Markov is listed here as your daughter, interesting. Is that what you’ve been up to these last-” She paused to read Isabel’s date of birth, “Twenty seven years?”
“Sekhmet.” There was clear exasperation in his voice. “What happened to her?”
“Like father, like daughter, Ares. Getting into trouble where she shouldn’t. Mortals are terribly weak, so easy to break. A single stab wound is enough to send them to the gates of death’s realm.” Sekhmet couldn’t hide the malicious grin any longer, having to turn her body to face the wall so her co-workers couldn’t question her.
Again there was a long pause from the other end.
“It’s good to hear that deep down I am still right about you. I’ll be there promptly.” After that Sekhmet was met with beeping noise only. Ares had hung up.
Krista moved to the char tab!
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"I guess this counts on a technical level. Although, you look more like a snack in comparison."
Sekhmet's lips turned up, and her face lit up with amusement. Truth be told, even the Egyptian Goddess had been caught off guard with their 'situationship'. Sekhmet scarcely remained in contact with anyone she formerly considered her closest allies during her self-exile - with the exception of Macaria, her platonic other half. After the Vietnam War ended, Sekhmet began roaming the Earth once more, the pull of war only somewhat lessening.
’Only the dead have seen the end of war.’
During her restless travels, she had crossed paths with Thor. Sekhmet quickly warmed up to his stories, developing a fondness and respect for the Norse God. There was someone who could seek the glory of combat without the insatiable desire for blood, something Sekhmet had previously thought impossible. Perhaps she missed companionship, she had forced herself not to think about the mortal whose heart she broke (along with her own in the process) now long ago. Now finding a tentative friend in Thor, that boundary was blurred the moment Sekhmet pulled Thor into the threshold of her hotel room that one night long ago. In bed and as company, they found solace in one another.
“I agree, though I suppose it's too bad I'm not on the menu.” Their friendship had been based on witty banter, and the familiar comfort it brought Sekhmet was welcome.
”Yeah too bad,” The God of Thunder snickered, reaching for the glass of champagne closest to him, only wincing when he went too far but controlled most of his facial expression. As he took a small sip and lowered it from his lips, he said, “or maybe it’s a good thing. I doubt anyone here — present company excluded — would know what to do if you were on the menu.”
Sekhmet's smirk faltered as she noticed the wince. Sekhmet was a qualified doctor on top of being the Goddess of healing, which most people seemed to forget quickly (not really something she blamed people for). So who would notice someone in pain if she didn't? “Are you still doing the 'fighting the good fight' thing?" Sekhmet asked, trying to keep the conversation casual as she sipped champagne from her own glass. Sekhmet had learned of his nighttime pursuits as the Blue Crusader at some point during their nights together. In exchange for his efforts, Sekhmet volunteered her skills to heal Thor should he need it after a particularly trying night. They might have been a God, but neither of them were invincible.
Damn, Thor thought he was doing a better job at hiding it. He should’ve figured that someone who knew him and when he was trying to hide certain injuries so nobody around him gave him a second thought would catch onto it. “What gave it away?” He laughed, taking another sip of his champagne, silently admitting that he knew the answer to his own question. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You always did know how to spot my tells.”
And that was the truth. Very few people even knew when he was covering for his weakness and even fewer people knew certain mannerisms he had that was a dead giveaway. Only two people (not counting those in the Norse Pantheon) knew and one of them was sitting across from him. “But to answer your question, yes I’m still at it. Of course, I didn’t think I’d actually get hit hard enough for it to still hurt.” The shame he felt for allowing that thug to pierce his skin with that broken piece of a wooden crate still burned hot like the touch of a lightning bolt with the ground.
"I've had enough patients pretend to be well in order to get out of my care faster." Sekhmet remarked, not entirely a lie. Sekhmet was a fantastic doctor (not to toot her own horn), but her bedside manners could use some polishing.
Her gaze scoured his body for any signs of trauma. While Thor's face, and what she could see of his body, did not appear to be obviously bruised, his gesture before the wince indicated that his shoulder was the source of his pain. She couldn't very well ask Thor to strip in front of her, though the temptation to watch the reactions on people's faces was overwhelming.
’Something to spice up the festival.’
"You know you can always come to me, right?" She reminded him with a raised eyebrow. She would have made time for him; she always would for her friends. In an instant she stood up, leaving their tray of small sandwiches on the table. "Let's get some fresh air; you look like you need it."
“Yeah, I know.” In truth, Thor didn’t want to bother her or put her out. He had resigned to the fact that his injury wasn’t severe enough to visit his favorite night nurse, but it was really about not wanting to bother her because of an error of judgment on his part. Now he was suffering because of that. At her offer to step outside, Thor mentally shrugged (he wasn’t dumb enough to do that a second time, physically). He stood up, downing the rest of his champagne, which really he only had half the glass left, so it was an easy two-gulp action.
As they walked away from the table, Thor leaned close to her ear and whispered, “you know if you wanted me alone, you could have just said so.”
Sekhmet flashed him a cheeky smile. "And miss my chance to play doctor? Never." She returned the teasing by dragging him outside, where she hoped they would have some privacy. Sekhmet sighed in disappointment as the garden appeared to be set up for croquet, a game she found a little too boring. At least he would have a good view. There was a bench overlooking the garden, just far enough away from prying eyes but not so distant as to miss anything going on inside the Festival.
She gave him an expectant look as she led him to the bench, still smiling playfully. "You know the drill if you want my special."
“Right, the drill.”
Thor, of course, knew exactly what she meant. To follow “the drill”, as she so politely phrased it, Thor started to remove his jacket which was proving to be a lot more difficult than he would have liked. All of the slow motions he made with his good arm were sending surges of pain through his bad one, but he stomached it. Eventually, he got one sleeve out and could assist himself with the other. Small, slow, gentle jerks was what was needed to get the other sleeve off. Halfway through, he could tug at the bottom of the sleeve even faster. When the jacket was off, he pushed it off to the side and did the same with his shirt, but it wasn’t as difficult.
Looking at the good doctor, Thor smiled. “Maybe you should take a picture so you can stare longer…doctor.” He only teased of course. There were cuts and scrapes through his torso. Old bruises from a week ago that didn’t really hurt. The most damning thing was his right shoulder. He had patched it up the best he could with a clean cloth and some ointment he bought a couple days ago. “By the way, those pills you gave me last time aren’t doing their job. It still hurts like a bitch.”
Sekhmet stood there watching - not as if the sight was anything she hadn't seen before, but her concern was apparent in her face. Has it really been so long since they'd seen each other last? What more was he hiding? She clicked her tongue in displeasure, "Well since you’re taking your sweet time, I thought I’d might as well enjoy the view."
When he was ready, she approached him, lightly touching his shoulder at first. Her hand began to glow the moment she touched his skin. As Sekhmet got to work, there was a gentle hum and a pleasant warmth emitting from her palms. She had been so distracted by her healing that it took her a moment to realise what Thor said at the end, causing her mind to come to a screeching halt, "I gave you the medicines a long time ago! It's no surprise that shit doesn't work!"
When Sekhmet placed her palms on his shoulder, there was a sensation that felt so familiar. It was that kind of burning sensation when he cleaned the wound with alcohol to disinfect it. Then it subsided and the warmth that came after was a welcomed feeling. It was…cool and comforting, like Thor was surrounded in an aura of compassion and all he felt around his wound was..nothing. It had numbed or maybe the pain was already or on its way to being gone.
“It was all I had that might do the trick in the pinch I needed it for,” he retorted back with a stubborn huff that has become his trademark. “Not unless you can give me a refill?” He asked, half-smirking. He looked at her, feeling more warmth that extended far past her ability to heal. “Maybe I can make it worth your while…past whatever doctor obligations, I mean.” He let his hand slide to her leg, finger trickling along the bare thigh.
Sekhmet’s eyebrow quirked up in amusement, “Are you sure you can keep up with me for your refills? You remember what happened last time.” She challenged him playfully. When she felt that his wounds were closed and not as tender looking, she started to press down against his skin. Sekhmet masterfully pressed against his muscles, massaging some of the tension away.
“I wasn’t sure earlier, but…” His voice trailed off, his smirk widening, and the tension in his shoulder fading as Sekhmet pressed into it. He had firm muscles. That was something the God of Thunder prided himself in, but she had firm hands. They could be gentle and attentive, but Sekh was able to be the beast that could sometimes tame the wild storm. As he let out a groan, one that was approving of her touch, he locked eyes with her. “But I seem to be feeling better. Imagine that.” He would say as he would mirror her touching his muscles by massaging her thigh.
Sekhmet laughed heartily at the groan Thor let out, trying to mask the goosebumps that erupted along her skin in response to his touch by kneading Thor’s skin some more. “That didn’t take me long to get you to sing for me. You’ve still got so much tension left.”
“And so little time to do something about it.” It was disappointing. Thor, who justifiably was tense, also had missed this back and forth between he and his favorite of the Egyptian Pantheon. She brought out something in him that so few could and in a way that, if he was being completely honest with himself, made him enjoy life a little more.
Thor made it a habit of being something of a ladies man. He was charming and clearly Sehkmet was very receptive of his advances so much he could feel the slightest vibration in his hand that was caressing her bare thigh. Leaning forward some, he almost whispered in her ear, “Come by tonight. We can…release some of my tension.”
After a final experimental squeeze of her hands, Sekhmet began to slowly move away. Fortunately, the damage to Thor was minor, and healing some of his remaining scratches and bruises took little time or effort. She released a breathy laugh in response to his offer, “You’re so greedy,” She sighed exaggeratedly before continuing. “I suppose I could, it’s time you return the favour.” She teased him.
Sekhmet helped Thor dress up soon after - not that he needed the help, but she flashed a knowing smirk in his direction as she did so anyway. They made their return back inside, the festival having grown a little more lively since they left. Sekhmet took a cursory glance around the room, checking for Macaria when she found the familiar smug aura from across the room. Her hands clenched and she bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste iron on her tongue.
Sekhmet was certain that, by the end of the day, not even Thor could match her tension.
Sekhmet's lips turned up, and her face lit up with amusement. Truth be told, even the Egyptian Goddess had been caught off guard with their 'situationship'. Sekhmet scarcely remained in contact with anyone she formerly considered her closest allies during her self-exile - with the exception of Macaria, her platonic other half. After the Vietnam War ended, Sekhmet began roaming the Earth once more, the pull of war only somewhat lessening.
’Only the dead have seen the end of war.’
During her restless travels, she had crossed paths with Thor. Sekhmet quickly warmed up to his stories, developing a fondness and respect for the Norse God. There was someone who could seek the glory of combat without the insatiable desire for blood, something Sekhmet had previously thought impossible. Perhaps she missed companionship, she had forced herself not to think about the mortal whose heart she broke (along with her own in the process) now long ago. Now finding a tentative friend in Thor, that boundary was blurred the moment Sekhmet pulled Thor into the threshold of her hotel room that one night long ago. In bed and as company, they found solace in one another.
“I agree, though I suppose it's too bad I'm not on the menu.” Their friendship had been based on witty banter, and the familiar comfort it brought Sekhmet was welcome.
”Yeah too bad,” The God of Thunder snickered, reaching for the glass of champagne closest to him, only wincing when he went too far but controlled most of his facial expression. As he took a small sip and lowered it from his lips, he said, “or maybe it’s a good thing. I doubt anyone here — present company excluded — would know what to do if you were on the menu.”
Sekhmet's smirk faltered as she noticed the wince. Sekhmet was a qualified doctor on top of being the Goddess of healing, which most people seemed to forget quickly (not really something she blamed people for). So who would notice someone in pain if she didn't? “Are you still doing the 'fighting the good fight' thing?" Sekhmet asked, trying to keep the conversation casual as she sipped champagne from her own glass. Sekhmet had learned of his nighttime pursuits as the Blue Crusader at some point during their nights together. In exchange for his efforts, Sekhmet volunteered her skills to heal Thor should he need it after a particularly trying night. They might have been a God, but neither of them were invincible.
Damn, Thor thought he was doing a better job at hiding it. He should’ve figured that someone who knew him and when he was trying to hide certain injuries so nobody around him gave him a second thought would catch onto it. “What gave it away?” He laughed, taking another sip of his champagne, silently admitting that he knew the answer to his own question. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You always did know how to spot my tells.”
And that was the truth. Very few people even knew when he was covering for his weakness and even fewer people knew certain mannerisms he had that was a dead giveaway. Only two people (not counting those in the Norse Pantheon) knew and one of them was sitting across from him. “But to answer your question, yes I’m still at it. Of course, I didn’t think I’d actually get hit hard enough for it to still hurt.” The shame he felt for allowing that thug to pierce his skin with that broken piece of a wooden crate still burned hot like the touch of a lightning bolt with the ground.
"I've had enough patients pretend to be well in order to get out of my care faster." Sekhmet remarked, not entirely a lie. Sekhmet was a fantastic doctor (not to toot her own horn), but her bedside manners could use some polishing.
Her gaze scoured his body for any signs of trauma. While Thor's face, and what she could see of his body, did not appear to be obviously bruised, his gesture before the wince indicated that his shoulder was the source of his pain. She couldn't very well ask Thor to strip in front of her, though the temptation to watch the reactions on people's faces was overwhelming.
’Something to spice up the festival.’
"You know you can always come to me, right?" She reminded him with a raised eyebrow. She would have made time for him; she always would for her friends. In an instant she stood up, leaving their tray of small sandwiches on the table. "Let's get some fresh air; you look like you need it."
“Yeah, I know.” In truth, Thor didn’t want to bother her or put her out. He had resigned to the fact that his injury wasn’t severe enough to visit his favorite night nurse, but it was really about not wanting to bother her because of an error of judgment on his part. Now he was suffering because of that. At her offer to step outside, Thor mentally shrugged (he wasn’t dumb enough to do that a second time, physically). He stood up, downing the rest of his champagne, which really he only had half the glass left, so it was an easy two-gulp action.
As they walked away from the table, Thor leaned close to her ear and whispered, “you know if you wanted me alone, you could have just said so.”
Sekhmet flashed him a cheeky smile. "And miss my chance to play doctor? Never." She returned the teasing by dragging him outside, where she hoped they would have some privacy. Sekhmet sighed in disappointment as the garden appeared to be set up for croquet, a game she found a little too boring. At least he would have a good view. There was a bench overlooking the garden, just far enough away from prying eyes but not so distant as to miss anything going on inside the Festival.
She gave him an expectant look as she led him to the bench, still smiling playfully. "You know the drill if you want my special."
“Right, the drill.”
Thor, of course, knew exactly what she meant. To follow “the drill”, as she so politely phrased it, Thor started to remove his jacket which was proving to be a lot more difficult than he would have liked. All of the slow motions he made with his good arm were sending surges of pain through his bad one, but he stomached it. Eventually, he got one sleeve out and could assist himself with the other. Small, slow, gentle jerks was what was needed to get the other sleeve off. Halfway through, he could tug at the bottom of the sleeve even faster. When the jacket was off, he pushed it off to the side and did the same with his shirt, but it wasn’t as difficult.
Looking at the good doctor, Thor smiled. “Maybe you should take a picture so you can stare longer…doctor.” He only teased of course. There were cuts and scrapes through his torso. Old bruises from a week ago that didn’t really hurt. The most damning thing was his right shoulder. He had patched it up the best he could with a clean cloth and some ointment he bought a couple days ago. “By the way, those pills you gave me last time aren’t doing their job. It still hurts like a bitch.”
Sekhmet stood there watching - not as if the sight was anything she hadn't seen before, but her concern was apparent in her face. Has it really been so long since they'd seen each other last? What more was he hiding? She clicked her tongue in displeasure, "Well since you’re taking your sweet time, I thought I’d might as well enjoy the view."
When he was ready, she approached him, lightly touching his shoulder at first. Her hand began to glow the moment she touched his skin. As Sekhmet got to work, there was a gentle hum and a pleasant warmth emitting from her palms. She had been so distracted by her healing that it took her a moment to realise what Thor said at the end, causing her mind to come to a screeching halt, "I gave you the medicines a long time ago! It's no surprise that shit doesn't work!"
When Sekhmet placed her palms on his shoulder, there was a sensation that felt so familiar. It was that kind of burning sensation when he cleaned the wound with alcohol to disinfect it. Then it subsided and the warmth that came after was a welcomed feeling. It was…cool and comforting, like Thor was surrounded in an aura of compassion and all he felt around his wound was..nothing. It had numbed or maybe the pain was already or on its way to being gone.
“It was all I had that might do the trick in the pinch I needed it for,” he retorted back with a stubborn huff that has become his trademark. “Not unless you can give me a refill?” He asked, half-smirking. He looked at her, feeling more warmth that extended far past her ability to heal. “Maybe I can make it worth your while…past whatever doctor obligations, I mean.” He let his hand slide to her leg, finger trickling along the bare thigh.
Sekhmet’s eyebrow quirked up in amusement, “Are you sure you can keep up with me for your refills? You remember what happened last time.” She challenged him playfully. When she felt that his wounds were closed and not as tender looking, she started to press down against his skin. Sekhmet masterfully pressed against his muscles, massaging some of the tension away.
“I wasn’t sure earlier, but…” His voice trailed off, his smirk widening, and the tension in his shoulder fading as Sekhmet pressed into it. He had firm muscles. That was something the God of Thunder prided himself in, but she had firm hands. They could be gentle and attentive, but Sekh was able to be the beast that could sometimes tame the wild storm. As he let out a groan, one that was approving of her touch, he locked eyes with her. “But I seem to be feeling better. Imagine that.” He would say as he would mirror her touching his muscles by massaging her thigh.
Sekhmet laughed heartily at the groan Thor let out, trying to mask the goosebumps that erupted along her skin in response to his touch by kneading Thor’s skin some more. “That didn’t take me long to get you to sing for me. You’ve still got so much tension left.”
“And so little time to do something about it.” It was disappointing. Thor, who justifiably was tense, also had missed this back and forth between he and his favorite of the Egyptian Pantheon. She brought out something in him that so few could and in a way that, if he was being completely honest with himself, made him enjoy life a little more.
Thor made it a habit of being something of a ladies man. He was charming and clearly Sehkmet was very receptive of his advances so much he could feel the slightest vibration in his hand that was caressing her bare thigh. Leaning forward some, he almost whispered in her ear, “Come by tonight. We can…release some of my tension.”
After a final experimental squeeze of her hands, Sekhmet began to slowly move away. Fortunately, the damage to Thor was minor, and healing some of his remaining scratches and bruises took little time or effort. She released a breathy laugh in response to his offer, “You’re so greedy,” She sighed exaggeratedly before continuing. “I suppose I could, it’s time you return the favour.” She teased him.
Sekhmet helped Thor dress up soon after - not that he needed the help, but she flashed a knowing smirk in his direction as she did so anyway. They made their return back inside, the festival having grown a little more lively since they left. Sekhmet took a cursory glance around the room, checking for Macaria when she found the familiar smug aura from across the room. Her hands clenched and she bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste iron on her tongue.
Sekhmet was certain that, by the end of the day, not even Thor could match her tension.
𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞
𝐭𝐰: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 & 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐲
𝚄𝚆 𝙼𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝙲𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 → 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙾𝚕𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚌 𝙲𝚕𝚞𝚋
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫 @metanoia
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21:37
Emergency Room"You're drilling a burr hole in the ER? Don't you need a neurosurgeon for that?"
Sekhmet watched the nurse toss the used syringe filled with numbing fluid to the ground, clattering against the messy tiles. Her hands were steady, eyes scanning between the kid's head and his vitals. The kid had been in an accident, fresh out of high school and straight into the gurney. Sekhmet could never understand the fascination with drunk driving, surely schools had programs cautioning against such stupid behaviour?
Evidently, Mr Everett missed that particular assembly. "It's an epidural bleed. The neuro department is ten minutes away and the patient has five if he's lucky. We gotta drain the bleed, now." Sekhmet took the drill in her hands. She gave a cursory glance around her, taking in the faces of the staff around her. With only two first-year residents and some nurses around her, Sekhmet was the only physician amongst them prepared to lead the surgery. As if to remind them of the lack of time they had to spare, the vitals machine started to scream.
"BP dropping! I need a nurse, damn it! Drilling now!" Sekhmet lined up the drill against the incision and began drilling. "Someone keep an eye on vitals!" The nurse whipped her head, watching the machine like a hawk. Exposing the dura mater was an easy task... on paper. In reality, it meant cautiously drilling through near 7mm of the skull to expose the line of flesh underneath that protected the precious brain. There was no chance to make a mistake here.
"He's herniating!"
"C'mon, almost there kid," Sekhmet muttered under her breath. She uttered promises of cursing the kid if he dared die on her tonight. Luckily for Mr Everett, it didn't have to come down to it.
"Got it!" Sekhmet pushed the drill towards the nearest body standing beside her as another physician took over the incision process. Within moments, fluid poured from the wound like a hole in a dam. The people around the patient sighed in relief, Sekhmet included, before stepping away to allow the neurosurgeon to come running and take her place.
Sekhmet took only a single breath before the ambulance crew called to say they were bringing an unwell eighty-year old from the local nursing home struggling to breathe. She rushed to meet the crew at the doors, white shoes squeaking against the ground in her haste.
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08:22
Break RoomIt wasn't so surprising when Sekhmet found herself summoned into the director of the ER's office after performing surgery on the Everett kid. She anticipated it the moment one of the residents questioned her, a physician that appeared only a few years older than them. Dr Rory was equally impressed and mortified by such rash action. By the time Dr Rory finished admonishing her for being so rash, Sekhmet had a bigger headache leaving the meeting than the one she nursed going into it.
Perhaps it was a bad idea to accept a twelve-hour graveyard shift the night before an important gathering. She was certain that Shai was laughing from wherever the fuck he was hiding from the rest of her pantheon after the night she'd had. Suddenly having to deal with a wave of patients from a three-car pile-up on the I-5 just as she was able to sit down with the old eighty-year-old in the recovery room. Sekhmet had to hastily finish her handover to the nurse in the recovery ward before meeting with the emergency crew for the second time that night. With the ER understaffed as is, a wave as big as the crash was nearly enough to send the hospital into code green three hours into her shift.
With two hours to go before the luncheon, Sekhmet's shift at the hospital ended. Despite that, Sekhmet found herself drawn to the recovery ward on her way out. She checked on the kid, whose parents and boyfriend had come to be by his side. He was still yet to wake up, too sedated, but a glance at the nurse's notes revealed nothing troubling. The next room she checked on was the old nursing patient with UTI but instead met with the custodian preparing for the next patient to roll through.
She left the hospital, dumping her overnight bag into the backseat of her 1965 Ford Mustang before making the short journey home. There, she got herself ready for the luncheon with a nice steaming shower, the largest mug of coffee she could find and some left over lamb curry she found in the back of her fridge for breakfast. She made an attempt to dress well, even if her dress was more suitable for a night out clubbing than attending a fancy brunch. Was she trying to look good? Maybe. This was her first attendance after a near century of self enforced exile, the least she could do was attempt to make an effort.
By the time Sekhmet arrived at the country club, it was well past the time on the invites. The smell of her perfume had been replaced with the smell of cigarette, and as Sekhmet climbed out of her car she made sure to dust the ashes off. Inside was a group of gods and goddesses that Sekhmet wasn't the closest with, though her relationship with the goddess of madness was complicated at best. But then her eyes landed on a familiar blond and she decided his company would make do for now. Bringing two flutes of champagne balanced on top of a plate of stupidly tiny sandwiches with her, she placed one flute in front of the brooding Norse god. "I'm not sure who wants to be here less, you or Melinoë." When she got Thor's attention, she offered her plate of sandwiches, "Snack?"
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