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Marian ([info]sweetspring) wrote in [info]nevermore_logs,
@ 2021-04-16 19:51:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:maid marian, qebhet

WHO Marian & Qebhet (with some Art, and maybe some Stutely and Robin if they're around)
WHEN Friday afternoon
WHERE The Sly Fox
WHAT Welcome to my home, please submit to a polygraph and fingerprinting.
WARNINGS tba,



Slowly slowly slowly, Marian was trying to get back into a life that wasn't built around the Sheriff. She found herself angry at the lack of progress, at the walls she kept coming up against, at the ways he was still controlling her even though he was gone. (Guy had been quiet for a long time, and that made Marian anxious as well. Her entire existence had been spent with Guy, the Sheriff and Price John all sniffing around, and the only variables being which one would be the most obsessed at that moment and what form any obsession would take: would she be facing a cartoonish buffoon vying for her affections, or would she be facing a man who would send her to be tortured by demons until she broke? Depending on the decade, depending on the stories and the culture, all possibilities laid themselves out before her.)

But she'd gotten back into her gaming, replaying old games and feeling herself sink back into the familiar moves of a particularly challenging boss fight. Guy and the Sheriff, they were unpredictable, but in video games (no matter how hard) you could read your opponent. When this boss raised his hammer over his right shoulder, then there was about to be an area of attack and you needed to move back. When this boss sheathed his glowing sword he was doing a power up and you had a few open seconds to make your own attack or heal. Her real enemies had no such tells: they appeared from the shadows and they rarely fought fair.

What Marian really wanted right now was a job, but instead she was stuck in the horrible limbo of unemployment. Marian had never been very good at being idle, at not having some sort of purpose and reason to get up every day. She needed to be doing something: in Sherwood that had often been taking care of the camp and being everyone's mother, and in the modern world it came in the form of a career she could be proud of. She'd only just managed to drag herself out of the depressing 'lying on the couch all day using her breasts as a Cheeto shelf' period before the Sheriff had kidnapped her, and now she was back even further than Step One.

Which was why she'd invited Qebhet over, to avoid the lying on the couch all day and to try and remember what it was like to be a person, especially to someone who had reached out when they didn't need to. She and Qebhet had only met the once, and she'd never expected to even make an impression on the goddess. And yet the scarab was warm and real in her pocket.

When the text came through to say that Qebhet had arrived, Marian made her way downstairs. Spotting Art at the bar, Marian said, "she's here, be nice." But she also held up the sleep mask she'd brought down to show him - it was close enough to a blindfold but wouldn't catch in any of Qebhet's hair going on or coming off.

She unlocked the door open and smiled at the goddess on the other side. "Hi," she said and then showed her the blindfold. "Thank you for doing this." That part she said a little more quietly, not meant for Art's ears so much.



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[info]coolwaters
2021-04-28 08:32 am UTC (link)
"Well... I like swimming," said Qebhet, "and reading. And... I walk? In the city?" Her diffidence leaked into her voice, giving it an uncertain inflection. She knew they weren't the most exciting of hobbies. "I like... exploring. It's amazing how you can live so long in a place and still find more to discover. And Harlem has changed so much since I was first here."

And her dead would often speak to her with such feeling of their city. There was no single New York, Qebhet had learned: every person had their own, a unique terrain overlaying a common street map, with places and landmarks coloured by memory and emotion. She listened when they talked, and, when she could, she liked to go wandering and try to perceive the places they'd loved through their eyes.

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[info]sweetspring
2021-04-29 07:20 am UTC (link)
"I know what you mean about exploring," Marian said. "Like me, you lived in a time when big cities weren't anything like this place. There's always something new. I've only been in New York for-" she paused to check her maths. "Almost three years, and I don't think it's possible to see everything in that time."

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[info]coolwaters
2021-04-30 12:36 am UTC (link)
Qebhet smiled. "I first came to New York in 1922. My father had just opened our funeral home then. I've lived in many other places since, but it's to New York I always return. It's... like you said, so great and dense, it's like a thousand cities in one. Did you know there's a sanitation garage in East Harlem with a museum inside? It's been there for thirty years and I never knew. One of the sanitation workers, he collects the perfectly good things that people throw away, cleans them and repairs them and puts them on display. It's beautiful."

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[info]sweetspring
2021-04-30 09:31 am UTC (link)
"See," Marian said, feeling like this really proved her point. "I didn't know about that at all. People throw away so many usual things in this day and age, it's ridiculous. Our consumeristic culture always saying to replace and upgrade instead of repair." But that wasn't the rant Qebhet had come here for, and so Marian stopped it with a knowing but apologetic look. "But since 1922? That's amazing, I've never stayed in one place so long. I'm always scared someone will start asking too many questions."

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[info]coolwaters
2021-04-30 10:51 am UTC (link)
Qebhet met Marian's look of apology with a small grin. The thought had struck her, too, wandering between crowded displays of pristine crockery and glassware, children's toys and family photos. What a waste, that all of it had ended up in the trash – but what a wonderful thing that somebody had seen fit to salvage it.

"I'm surprised nobody ever has," she admitted. "It helps that we're a family funeral home, I think. I can leave for a few years and come back as a daughter or niece, fresh out of mortuary school." Her grin crept wider, amusement touching her eyes. "Lots of people tell me I look just like my aunt, though."

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[info]sweetspring
2021-04-30 12:13 pm UTC (link)
"I suppose it's easier for them to accept that you look exactly like your 'aunt' instead of understanding that you haven't aged a day." It made complete sense, really. Human brains always looked for the explanation that made the most sense, that fit their view of the world. "Every time I leave a place I'm too paranoid to return, even though I always get myself so attached to people."

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[info]coolwaters
2021-05-01 11:25 am UTC (link)
"It's hard sometimes," Qebhet agreed. "The lies we have to tell. We live in their world, but we can never be truly a part of it." Not that she was one to talk. Most of the people she befriended were already dead. It wasn't quite the same thing. "You have your boys, though. That must help."

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[info]sweetspring
2021-05-01 02:03 pm UTC (link)
"It does," Marian agreed, warmth in her voice. "I don't know where I'd be without those boys." Well, she knew exactly where she'd be without them right now. She'd be in a house in Arizona, being the perfect little wife to a monster, sinking deeper and deeper into whatever hell that was. "They look out for me, but I look out for them too. I've gotten so used to feeling like it's my job to keep an eye on them, but I like that feeling. Are there other Egyptians around? Or is it just you and your father local?"

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[info]coolwaters
2021-05-02 04:53 am UTC (link)
Qebhet gave a little half-shrug. "They come and go. It's been only the two of us for a few years now. My brother prefers to stay nearer the desert."

She couldn't rightly call herself lonely. She had friends here, good friends. She had the dead to keep her company. She had her cats and her snake. And not all the gods of her homeland were the most... relaxing company. Still— on foreign soil, under a foreign sky, among gods far too young to ever have seen the barque of the Sun sail the arched canopy of Nut, or watched the dance of the twinned ikhem-sek around the celestial north pole— there was a certain familiar ease in spending time with those who had been reared under the same stars was you.

But this wasn't the time to dwell. After another sip of her beer, she added, "My cousin Seshat lives in Philadelphia, though, so I see her a lot. She's the one who helped me with your scarab. She's a goddess of writing, so engraving is one of her specialties."

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