destiny.xxxoutfit. 1.xxxxsong. x.xxxhex. #a8a8c0
navi.xxxoutfit. 1.xxsong. x.xxxhex. #b3832f
The Gods had always known how to throw a good party, that much Catarina was willing to admit. Free flowing sprits and decadent sweets, overstuffed and oversized seating to accommodate as many bodies as they desired. Catarina had carved herself a piece of heaven beside Death himself, bodies splayed out across one of the chaises his hand gripping at her thigh hitched over his midsection.
Revenge and death, a cycle that lended to itself - stains on humanity they’d spend a lifetime trying to outrun. It’s like they say, misery loves company and she was fond of his. She enjoyed the others looked at her when she was curled up beside him, basking in the glow of his power. Most of the other living major gods were worried more about making themselves palatable to mortals than letting gods be gods. Catarina controlled others by fear, Arsen did so by divine right. Kindred souls in this over-polished world.
“Mhm, why don’t you take me to one of your little pocket dimensions and we can play.” Her tongue ran along his jawline, nibbling his earlobe gently. She had been chasing oblivion more than usual lately, pressing herself closer to the edge preferring to leave her life in death’s hands than her own. She could see a shift among the gods along her peripheral, Isla parting a path before her as she walked through. Isla's eyes darted side to side with an erratic sort of desperation that wafted off of her, Catarina turning to adjust herself to block Arsen and herself from their line of sight. The last thing Catarina wanted to deal with was the ramblings of an unhinged god.
His vessel couldn’t be much younger than her own, but Rio could tell that Ra’s presence was dim. Rio had beheld the Sun god before, knew what his presence felt like. There was a radiance that emanated that no vessel could contain, no matter how removed Ra might be. She could sense it once she was within reach, a warmth that surrounded him - even if he couldn't.
“Destiny - this is Navi, Ra God of Sun. Or as I like to call him, my own personal heater.” Theo joked, one arm around the slight boy who’s cheeks flushed at the introduction. Destiny smile, her head tilting to take in the little Sun god. He had a look in his eyes that was rare in the Pantheon, that sort of naivety that gods sneered at. Destiny understood why Theo had taken such a liking to the boy, despite him being so pitifully human. “Navi this is Destiny, a river goddess and a dear personal friend of mine.”
“It’s an honor and a privilege,” Destiny offered her hand, bowing gently. His hands felt like he’d never worked a day in his life, like she might just crush them beneath her grip. She’d never seen a major god so frail, a sudden urge to protect the little god washing over her.
“Oh, you’re too kind.” Navi insisted, cheeks flushing with color. Destiny exchanged a look with Theo as if to say,
‘Okay...I get it.’
“Theo says you travel through the rivers most of the year, is that right?” Navi asked, his English mannerisms disallowing him to let the conversation end there. Smalltalk was essential to British culture, something that had always evaded him in his youth.
“Yes, I like to visit my acolytes and answer their prayers.” Destiny nodded, folding her hands in front of her when she spoke. “There hasn’t been a River Goddess for several generations among the naiads of the rivers so they are all eager to be visited by their lady.”
“But there was heard among the holy hymns A voice as of the waters, for she dwells down in a deep‐ ” Navi quoted, his eyes drifting elsewhere as he spoke as if he were reading the words out of thin air.
“- calm, whatsoever storms may shake the world. Alfred Tennyson….” Rio said with a nostalgic sort of recognition, her lips upturned.
“Oh, have you read his work?” Navi asked, his ears perking up.
“Not exactly,” Rio answered semi-truthfully, “At least not any of his published work. He and I were friends in a previous life, some of his musings were inspired by my stories.”
“Unbelievable, you have memories from your previous lives?” Navi marveled, his eyes glittering with curiosity. “How did you connect with your god’s consciousness, if you don’t mind me asking.”
His sheepish expression made her heart melt, Destiny looking over to Theo with a pleading expression. Someone had to help this little sun god, he was floundering. The adjustment was always a lengthy one, but for a god of his size he should have been more lucid than he was now.
“Well, it’s different for everyone. No two emergences are the same. Same is to be said about the relationship between gods and their vessels….” Destiny’s sentence trailed off, her eyes following Isla as she herded what gods she could into the meeting room. “I’m sorry, I need to check something.”
She walked away with a look of concern, Navi looking back at Theo with his brows knitted together. “Should we follow them?”
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Catarina watched as gods followed Isla into the meeting hall from the corner of her vision, preferring to keep herself preoccupied with the designs needled along the slope of Arsen’s neck. Her hands had ran along their lines enough to commit them to memory. She loved the way his skin puckered beneath her nails when she squeezed. His muscles flexed against her fingers, her grip a collar too weak for its wearer - but that didn’t stop her from trying. As much as Catarina was enjoying herself, Nem wouldn’t allow her to savor the moment - drifting their eyes back to the meeting hall. The sinking feeling reaching out around her to pull her from euphoria. Alan must have gotten word of Blythe gathering gods in the hall, only a flash of color in the corner of her eye as he flew into the hall. Catarina huffed with annoyance, pushing herself upright.
“I’m afraid that’s my cue.” She pouted, sliding a hand from around his neck to brace herself against his weight as she leaned in. Her lips brushed against his briefly, exhaling heavily between them. Self restraint was exhausting.“To be continued.”
Navi noticed the goddess of revenge enter the hall from the corner of his eye, her body moving with the sunken grace of an apex predator. A shudder ran down his spine, looking back to Alan who was already working his way towards Blythe. Catarina leaned against the far wall, watching as Blythe paced. "I told you all there would be death, damned bloody death, and it's hunting us all!"
Catarina rolled her neck to look over to see that Arsen too had decided to come bear witness. She laughed under her breath, folding her arms as she shook her head. “Always with the death, this witch.”
"We're doing everything we can."
Catarina was unable to control her reaction, scoffing at Alan’s assurances, the sound carrying to the front of the room. Gods glanced back at her, their looks laced with fear. She was used to others looking at her in such a way, but this was different - something bigger.
“Are you serious?” She rolled her eyes, too drunk to care about mincing words.
The crowd parted as she walked forward. Catarina looked at each of them as she passed, little sheeps gaping at the big bad wolf. Every syllable she spoke reverberated with the sort of wrath only gods of war could articulate, showing all her teeth as she spoke.
“Do you all really not feel it? Does it really confound you?” The murmurs had dulled, the sounds of her heels clipping across the polished stone echoing through the hall. She paused to pivot herself towards Alan, repeating the same thing she’d told him many times before. “War is here.”
Navi’s eyes widened with concern, looking around to the others in the hall. Expectant faces looked back to him, the same one people had been giving him since he arrived in the Pantheon - pleading for Ra’s wisdom.
“Am I supposed to say something?” He whispered to Theo, panic settling in. Theo reached out to rest a reassuring hand on Navi’s shoulder, sorting through the generic pieces of advice he could recycle in that moment for the god - saved by the grace of another.
“The gods of war are hardly impartial,” A voice called from the crowd, snapping Catarina’s attention.
“Of course not,” She turned, beholding the great dragon who had spoken. Yongmul had never shown favor to the gods of war, this life hadn't changed that. Nem's lips twitched with contempt. “It is our domain, we don’t need a vision to tell you when it’s coming. All the more reason to listen to us.”
Destiny had gone to Isla’s side as Catarina bickered with the other gods, wrapping an arm around the goddess of prophecies to give her a reassuring smile - just so she knew she had someone who believed her. Each life cycle of the god came with exponentially more knowledge than any other, the effects intensifying with each vessel ever; changing, expanding, compounding. Her prophecies took a toll on her mentally but that didn’t mean she was an invalid.
“With all due respect to the gods of war - as long as there is life there will be war. You all are meant to endure such adversity, many of us are not.” Destiny spoke from Isla’s side, pleading for compassion but all the goddess of revenge heard was a challenge.
“So then what would you suggest, little river goddess?” Catarina stepped towards the naiad, her head tilted to the side to take in Destiny all at once.
Destiny pressed her lips together into a fine line, Rio washing her over with a wave of calm. The naiad ceded to the river god, a serene vignette softening her features. She released Isla to step forward, bringing her hands together in a plea towards Catarina.
“In my humblest opinion, I believe preparing for war is a self-fulfilling prophecy.” Destiny could see the faces of those who agreed with her, watched as the lines of worry faded for a moment. That brief moment of respite between the ambiguous what if, and reality. “Of course, I am not in a position to consult in such matters thus I defer to the knowledge of those who are.”
Catarina considered striking the river goddess in that moment, just to remind her who she was talking to - though Nem never allowed them to get their hands dirty. Wouldn’t want to end up like Oswald, locked away like some animal. She knew many of those in the room wanted to do the same to her. It was lonely being the only god of war with a voice in the pantheon, her voice only carrying weight by the work of years of manipulation to amplify her influence. If this was end game the establishment was a ticking time bomb.
“Well there're three dead gods and nothing to say one of you are next, so…” Catarina pointed a finger over the crowd, shrugging as her face twisted into a look of sick amusement. “I’ll be fine. It’s as the little river goddess said, the gods of war are meant to endure such adversity.”