Dealing with problems the healthy way (aka drinking them away)
Warnings:
Mentions of violence and bloodshed, mentions of some alcohol abuse
In retrospect, Sekhmet knew it had been a bad idea to have gone after the mortal cultists that had been tainted by Apep's evil. While the cause had been just, and her Vengeance warranted it had been so hard to stop and not continue to attack those who had not warranted her anger.
It was not right. She was Rightful Destruction, the executioner when Ra desired it so. She was supposed to be focused, not willing to destroy simply for being able to. But the tale of humanity's near destruction was too often told. It made her crave for blood, crave for the sweet taste of flesh in her teeth. But Ra had forgiven mankind, and such destruction was no longer needed.
Even when she saw no good in mankind's ways. They were poisoning the land and skies, throwing everything away that her Lord Father had so graciously given them. They had even turned away from His gaze.
How often did she wish to continue the task he had once given her? She had enjoyed being drenched in blood too much. This she had realized once she had gazed back upon her actions. Her Lord Father had forgiven her, and send her back to Menefer where she could not even explain to her husband why she had not stopped.
Knowing her own child had feared her, had made her saddened. But she could not ignore the desire for the taste of blood. It was always there, just inches away and calling to her. The answer to this was always alcohol.
Thus she had found a smoky bar where her presence was ignored, and she could try and ignore the call that always came. She had not explained to Hathor where she'd be. Her mirror and her love would know, and understand. Because Hathor knew her best, and would know what the raid on the Temple would have cost Sekhmet.
It was a strange place she'd found herself in, filled with dark laughter and the smell of sweat and bitter alcohol and clouded by smoke. Not a place where one would think to look for a daughter of Sun. She figured it was why she liked it. Days like this, she did not feel like the Healing Queen she'd once been. She'd still demanded respect and loyalty and when not properly persuaded would have unleashed her plagues just as easily as she had turned them away. But it had not been the rampant destruction of later years. Her priests and doctors had known how to act around her, and in turn she had given them medicine and surgery that had been advanced for that time.
She missed it. Missed hovering over her doctors shoulders with a critical eye and hearing their muttered prayers that she aid them in healing the ill. Now, she was reduced to a being of violence and drowned her sorrows in bars filled with mortals who barely knew who and what she was.
She knew she could speak to her family, her sisters. But not right now. They would give her pity, or sympathy, and neither of those she could deal with right now. Not even her beloved self's sweet words and warm embraces she wanted right now. She needed to drink, recover from the strain that helping the Red Lord had put on her, and above all things just be away. She would deal with her problems in her own ways and right now the anonymity, and drinking herself into oblivion, was nice.
Sitting on the barstool, hair covering her eyes and fingers toying with the bottle of alcohol in front of her, Sekhmet was a far cry from the goddess she usually presented herself as. And right now, that felt rather nice.