Qebhet (coolwaters) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2020-12-13 10:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | luna olmos, qebhet |
WHO Qebhet and Luna
WHEN Mid-morning, Friday 11 December
WHERE Queens
WHAT Identifying a body
WARNINGS Discussion of dead bodies
It was hardly the first time Qebhet had been in this position. She and her father looked after the dead, that was their role and their calling, and sometimes – mercifully rarely – that included dead gods: rescuing their bodies from morgues and embalming and pauper’s graves, bringing them to the sanctuary of their funeral home and easing the path back from Duat as best they could. Death never gave up any soul willingly, even a divine one, but a whole and uncorrupted body, properly tended to, could be a beacon. Usually, when she was called upon, it was for family. Today, it was for a friend. It had been a scramble; death in the twenty-first century was a bureaucratic affair and a body could not be released from the medical examiner’s custody without an identified next-of-kin, which for a god meant all manner of documentation had to be forged. Fortunately, Seshat had not baulked at the quick turn-around time; forgery was child’s play for the Mistress of Writing. So it was all organised. Still, nagging worries dogged Qebhet as she climbed out of the hearse and made her way across the car park toward the paved hospital courtyard where she and Luna had arranged to meet before the scheduled appointment at the medical examiner’s office. The mortal had seemed shaken but determined, and Hecate would not have entrusted her with so important a job if she thought it was more than Luna could handle— But it was a heavy task, and Qebhet felt guilty asking the girl to shoulder this part. And what of Hecate? Drive-by shooting, no arrests made; that was the extent of what she’d able to discover. After the battles they’d fought together, and knowing the power the goddess wielded, it seemed startlingly mundane. But even gods could be taken unawares by the mundane. (Her grandfather Set, in an incident they were all forbidden to speak about on pain of dismemberment, had once needed to be smuggled out of a morgue after choking to death on a lettuce leaf.) And gods could wield guns just as well as mortals could. Worry twisting in her gut, Qebhet reached the courtyard. There were a number of people milling, but she quickly found the face she was looking for – the same one that emblazoned the fake driver’s licence tucked in an envelope in her bag. “Luna?” |