universalis | IC: EVENT

Entry tags:

IC: EVENT

A TERRIBLE THING IS HAPPENING

reference books detailing myths and legends stolen from libraries...
wikipedia pages wiped clean from the face of the internet...
ancient stained glass windows smashed and destroyed...
historical research centers burnt to the ground...

Someone out there is trying very, very hard to erase all of the possible sources of power and belief of the ancient gods and goddesses. And it hurts. Whilst the powers of the minders are unharmed by the attacks, the gods and goddesses will be certainly feeling the toll: it's now painfully clear that even the simplest of miracles are now becoming almost impossible to perform.

deities, you had better have gifted your minders with some decent blessings! Because now you're going to rely on them more than ever. Someone is out to get you.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ All that has been written has a copy in Thoth's personal library, and he is there now. One arm is on his desk, supporting his head, while his other hand is curled around a cup of rapidly cooling tea. Some of the more important manuscripts are in front of him, just in case. There are other Egyptian deities staying with him, scattered amidst the shelves on couches and pillows. If anyone tries to break into his libraries, they will make them regret it. He also has his phone and computer out, should anyone who will not or cannot come to him attempt to make contact. ]

[ in all her years serving thoth, amisi has never seen this house so full. miesha has been dispatched to the market, because how can the scant holdings of their kitchen provide enough for a slew of gods and minders?

and in between all her fretting--for it is so much easier to fret about making their guests welcome than it is about what is happening to her diety--she ventures into the library with fresh cups of tea. the cooled cup is removed from his hands, a hot one slipped into place. it is a flawlessly excuted manuever, one that she has perfected in her years as apprentice. it shouldn't disturb.

except... ]

Is there anything more I can do?

[ her tone is fervant, fraught with worry. she knows all of these tomes by heart, courtesy of the gift he'd seen fit to give her. but still, there must be more for her. if there is something left unread, then she should be doing that, shouldn't she? ]

[ It shouldn't disturb, but he is tired and she speaks. One hand, fingers stained with ink, reaches to curl around her own. Thoth is not the most physical of gods and never has been, but he cares for his apprentices the way he cares for his books. His grip tries for gentle, but it mostly comes off as weak -- the grip of an old man instead of the god who oversees battles between good and evil. ]

I have been thinking.

[ Even his voice sounds wrong. Instead of the warm brown of tea, it is dry papyrus leaves. He seems to realize this, shifting at his desk to pick up the cup of tea with the hand that doesn't have a hold on her to take a sip. ]

You remember the stories. It is much to ask, but you could rewrite them. Recreate what has been destroyed.

[ it frightens her, seeing him like this. she tightens her fingers in his, holds on as if to keep him from slipping away. in all the time that she's known him, he has been unchanging, dependable as the constellations. and now he is weakening, withering like the plants by the window when she wasn apprentice and too caught up in the chatter of language to remember to water them. ]

There is nothing that is too much to ask. I would transcribe them a thousand times over.

[ it is putting to good use her gift. she can write them, and miesha can write them again, in other languages if necessary. between the two of them they should be able to manage to recreate the most precious of his texts and perhaps more. ]

[ He is old, but Thoth has never once felt it before now. She gives him hope, however. There are some who say the gifts he gives are not worth a lifetime of service, but it is always about selecting the right person. If chosen correctly, it is a lifetime of learning. Every written word sits in Thoth's library. Whatever they lose, his apprentices can recreate. ]

We may not have time to rewrite whole books. But the bones of the stories, the names, who we are and what we have done. There is no time for flowery words, not yet.

[ Because she will write to keep them alive. ]

I will write what I can as well.

[ It is good that all they can write for now is the bare essentials, because he doesn't think he can remember all of them. ]

[ already her mind is racing, thinking of what to save, what must be written and what can be set aside for a later time. every moment is precious is this, and all she can think is that she hopes they've enough paper to get it all down. oh, she could use a laptop, but the stories she is inscribing deserve ink and paper, the most careful and neat-formed lettering. ]

Perhaps you should rest. Speak with your houseguests while Miesha and I work.

[ she has never had to tell him to rest. it has never been necessary. the words feel strange in her mouth, unfamiliar and disorienting. ]

[ If they run out of paper, there are the walls, the bookshelves, their own skin. Thoth remembers when writing began, reeds pressing into wet clay tablets that were then baked. He knows how to tell stories with pictures, hieroglyphs that few can now read. ]

I would rather stay here, I think.

[ Whether he is working or not, his desk is his favorite place. Besides, this is where he has collected the most important manuscripts to watch over. ]

[ for a few moments, she is silent. then her grip on his hand tightens again, suddenly fierce. ]

I am afraid for you.

[ what if they find nothing? what if this is not remedied and it all fades away? she cannot imagine a world without him and his knowledge, where she could not dwell within the walls of this household and listen to him explain the mysteries of the written world to her. it seems an impossibility that such could come to pass, but... ]

[ Oh. He forgets, sometimes, how much his minders can care. He grips back before carefully tugging her closer, as a father might his child. ]

As long as there is a balance to keep, I will keep it. As long as you believe, I will be here.

[ Even in a weakened state -- he will still remain. ]

[ she goes willingly. it is her duty to be strong and stoic and set the example for the others, for the apprentices and less experienced minders. but when thoth is different, and she doesn't hesitate to let him tug her in. physical affection is a rare thing with him, she knows that. ]

None of us shall falter.

Good.

[ He is tired, and he lets himself rest his head on her shoulder for a moment. ]

Don't forget to eat and rest yourself.

You should sleep as well. And perhaps eat something.

[ tea cannot really be providing him with enough nourishment right now. ]

I will. Later.

[ He's more worried about the documents in front of him at the moment. ]

[ Anna Maria St. George has never spoken to Thoth, but she's read all about him in, well, books. What's happening now doesn't make any sense to her and, she's afraid, never will. It frightens her more than she'd ever admit, but she has to be strong now for Raziel and his brothers.

Thoth is keeper of great knowledge and Raziel, her charge, is the angel of secrets. Who better to ask after Raziel's books than Thoth himself?

His information isn't hard to track down. Despite being as secretive as he is, Raziel's name is one that opens doors. ]

TO: [ Thoth ]

Hello.

My name is Anna Maria St. George. I work for Raziel, if work is even the right word for it. I'm sure you know what's happening by now and I'm also sure you've got a lot more important things to do than write to me, but. Raziel has a lot of secrets and my master and I can't do much beyond bend the wind.

We don't know how to protect his books. I thought maybe you would know what we should do. They need to be kept safe.

Sincerely,
Anna Maria St. George, apprentice.

[ Thoth is aware of who she is, of course. Birth certificates are written, and he does, somewhere, have a filing cabinet with her name on it. Transcriptions of anything she's written -- diary entries, text messages, e-mails, even notes in class -- are stored within. His memory is sharp, even now.

The fact that she is asking makes him smile slightly, but only just. This is, after all, not a situation to smile about. ]

TO: [ ANNA MARIA ST. GEORGE ]

Stay with them. I am sure he will want to be near them. Even in a weakened state, an angel is likely more than whoever is doing this will want to face. If he will allow it or can do it himself, transcribe them. Not the entirety, but footnotes -- enough that, if something does happen, the knowledge within can be recovered. He may be more willing to allow you to do this if you cannot read what they are written in.

In addition, it is my hope that, by having transcriptions made of the old stories that contain our names, some of our power will be restored. I have asked my master, who is gifted with eidetic memory, to do just that. I have all that is written within my collection, but please assure Raziel that she has not seen them. If his books are lost or damaged, he has only to come here and access them.

If he would like, you may all travel here. Many of my pantheon are staying here. We are all weakened, and my protections are as a result, but there is strength in numbers.

I hope that this helps.

TO: [ Thoth ]

Keeping with the books isn't a question. Even on a good day, you can't pry him away from them. He says secrets stop being secrets once too many people know what they are, which makes sense I guess. Cary and I aren't allowed to peek but maybe if we convinced him that you would hold onto some of the most important ones, he'd feel a bit safer and less restless here at home? He keeps thinking whomever's done this is about to bust through the window any second and I'm not sure a pillowfort will do that much to keep them out if they do.

But do you really think a person did this? Or, plural, people but — mortals? If that's true then how do we know so little? Nobody commits a perfect crime. Not without help.

Anyways, thank you writing me back. Your words help so much. More than you can know.

If there anything I can do, any prayers or incantations I can say to help you, please let me know. I'll commit them to heart as best I can.

Perhaps, but you would have to get them here. That in itself would be dangerous.

It is likely that some of us do know more than we are, at the moment, either aware or allowed to speak of. It is even likely that in my library, there are written conversations between those who did this. There are those who see the future among us, as well, but none of us were warned. We are not all like, and may they forgive me for using them as an example, a majority of the Greeks. One of my roles is to keep the balance. If this was meant to happen, it had to happen -- though that does not mean I will let it finish us. That would, of course, hardly keep the balance at all.

You are quite welcome.

I would not ask it of another's minder, but you have asked and these are strange times. I will teach you the words. These were written by a scribe in the Book of the Dead. "I am thy writing palette, O Thoth, and I have brought unto thee thine ink-jar. I am not of those who work iniquity in their secret places; let not evil happen unto me."

[Anubis' arrival at Thoth's home had been quiet and unobtrusive, Anubis finding a space for himself and his minders out of the way, where he could rest and recoup energy lost in the trip. It was a strange sensation, this culling that was occurring; like a thread being tugged away from the bottom of his being, an unstopped bottle slowly draining. He wonders if it's anything like what death feels like.

Eventually he regains the strength and will to move, and makes his way through the shelves. It has been some time since he saw the others, and he thinks on that a moment as he finally comes across Thoth himself: at his desk, as he should be, but without the usual pride and self-assurance that holds his back straight.]

We should speak more often, I think. [He takes a slim book off the nearest shelf, looking it over curiously.] It's a shame we needed such an event to bring us together again.

[ He does straighten slightly when he realizes there is someone there, but upon recognizing Anubis, slouches again after giving him a nod. Even now, keen eyes watch the other god handle his books. They are as dear to him as children, no matter the subject, no matter the mortal who may have mutilated the words or the characters within. ]

Outside of work, you mean?

[ It is Anubis who weighs the hearts, but it is Thoth who questions the dead and records the results of the weighing. He has other duties, as well -- many, many duties. His favorite are his books and letters, and it pains him to know that they are being destroyed as much as what is being destroyed pains him. ]

We should.

[He replaces the book carefully, exactly where it was. Thoth was respectful in his realm and he was respectful in Thoth's. They had always worked in tandem, no discord allowed to disrupt the scales. He's always been curious of Thoth's knowledge though. Could never hold as much himself, it was in his nature and his duty not to be weighed down. Staying amongst all the books would likely make him restless after too long, but he still looks at the vast collection of them with eager eyes.]

Or perhaps the balance will find itself without us, this time.

[There's no cruelty or fear in the comment. Just a statement, a thought that had gone through his head, a course of events that would make any plans to meet more in the future impossible.]

[ He means no disrespect by watching the other god with his books. They are there to be read and looked over, after all. He does it, his minders do it, and Anubis could do it if he so chose. Thoth trusts the other god enough that a warning about keeping it in one piece wouldn't even be spoken. ]

Perhaps.

[ It's a thought that he has had as well, though he said nothing of it to his minders. His master is afraid for him, and he doesn't wish to worry her. ]

But there are those yet who believe, even if they are only those bound to us and those who learned our names through movies, books, and even video games.

We would be cripples, clinging to our minders for existence.

[Anubis can't say he likes that idea. He tries to keep his minders unburdened, to teach them about the way of death and the afterlife. He cannot imagine enjoying the world, using Adila and Mona as crutches.]

Do you believe that they would stop believing in us, if we asked them? If it came to that?

[ He doesn't like the idea either, but he doesn't think they would let them fade away completely. ]

[He considers the question quietly, looking over the Thoth's library again, wondering what would happen to all of the books were Thoth to fade away. Would they go with him? What of the hearts, who would weigh them?]

I don't think human faith has ever worked that way.

Then we would likely have little choice.

[ There is a chair across his desk, and Thoth gestures toward it. ]

Sit, old friend. If this is all we have before the end, then I would at least like to stop peering up at you.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

IC: EVENT

OPEN

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

( email )

( email )

( email )

( email )

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject