capeandcowl2020 | Open Post 001

John smiled, sitting up so that he could make room on the bench if his visitor so desired. John, also, was soothed by the company. Most of his interaction with people was fleeting and minimal, and there was something about that that was also soothing in a way he couldn't describe... but everyone suffered loneliness.

His fingers did as instructed, turning from the blank page to one of the sketches he did on his off-time, just for him. He stopped on the page covered in graphite, the erased sun in the center the only speck of white on the paper.

"Did you like this one?"

Khonshu found it curious enough that the man was so welcoming to even his battered appearance. He looked more like his avatar's twisted brother, than his avatar himself, but it appeared to matter little. Khonshu perceived it as unconscious recognition and took to it happily. He perched down near to Ra's avatar, his smile mostly hidden.

It was an odd image, truth be told. It was undeniably meant to be the sun, and yet it was so small, its power and glow smothered by the dark surrounding it. The black covering the page was was certainly in excess, and perhaps that was true of Ra's condition: swallowed up in shadow.

"I do, Ra, very much," he replied, taking no mind to referring to the vessel by the name of the God it held.

It was rare that anyone ever saw John's independent sketches. He smiled a little, offering his book over so that the man could look at it closer if he wanted. "I don't remember why I drew it. Sometimes when I have nothing else to do my mind... wanders."

To darkness, mostly, but sometimes to light. The sun distracted him... it unsettled him, at times. He had no home and barely felt the cold, but sometimes he felt the desire to seek shelter from its gaze. To hide, ridiculous as he thought it. He didn't entertain the notions -- they were fleeting ideas, and crazy ones. When he had drawn that picture his mind had gone blank for almost the entire process, a frantic scribble of blackening the page meticulously under his fingertips had been stained, as well. The careful process of erasing the lines, small and fragile and still somewhat smudged with the grey of pencil.

"You can have it, if you want," he offered. "I don't need it."

Khonshu smiled still, noting that the man did not correct his name, either avoiding the absurdity or unconsciously accepting. He took the book in bandaged hands, wanted very much to actually touch the illustration, but knowing it would smear the work and he could not bear to taint it. There was power in the image, a certain symbolism, and he admired it.

"Perhaps your mind is trying to tell you something," offered Khonshu, voice sly. Despite his desire to see Ra, there was a certain intrigue to this avatar he had chosen. He was a very mild man, which meant he would at least be obedient to commands.

Unlike some people Khonshu could name.

"I would very much like it," he said, and he began the careful process of removing it from the book. "Your price?" Khonshu didn't hesitate to think he could not afford whatever would be asked.

He frowned again, but only slightly, brushing a long strand of blonde hair from his face. John had the kind of long blonde hair that looked as if it could be beautiful were it treated properly -- washed, maybe trimmed, but he always simply brushed it back from his face and that was that. He tapped his lip with his pencil.

"Tell me what? It's just a drawing," he said finally, after a quiet contemplation. He shook his head, smiling again and touching the underside of the sketchbook. "No price... I couldn't ask you for something I just drew on my own."

Khonshu too found his attention drawn to Ra's hair. Surely it would have shone like sunlight, just like the rest of him, had the man been in his true form. It was tempting to reach for a few of those stray strands himself, but he held back.

"A gift," concluded Khonshu, ever indulgently pleased by even the slightest offering. It had been a long time since blood was spilled for his altar, and he eagerly took every blessing he could find. He held the page nearer to himself, almost covetous, and he smiled. "And tell me, what possessed you to draw such a thing?"

"And any of these others, if you'd like. I'm not going to do anything with them..." Bob passed the book over again so it could be looked through, though there were only about a dozen or so non-blank pages. He brushed his hair from his face idly.

"I remember I... was thinking about the sun," he said slowly, glancing upward into the darkness. "And what a change it makes when it's out. But in space, everything is just darkness with little sparkles of light from the stars and galaxies, like pins on a black poster."

Khonshu took the invitation almost greedy, but quickly found there wasn't too much else to admire. There were similar pieces to the dark one Khonshu had been given, but also several of women -- no, it was the same woman, just in variations.

"I see," said Khonshu, his head cocked -- birdlike -- as he flipped between the pictures of the woman. Whether she was an attachment to Ra or to his mortal form, he could not be certain. These, he would not take. They were intimate in a way which did not belong to him. It would be best not to invade this idea; it would only serve to bother him.

He handed the book back, and he kept only his image of the sun. "Balance," he added, belatedly remarking on the explanation he was given. "Sunlight and moonlight."

"Balance? Oh..." John nodded. "That's right. Sunlight and moonlight, daytime and night. It's remarkable. The light from the sun reaches across the entire sky. It's hard to imagine anything being more powerful than that."

He closed his sketchbook, fitting his pencil through the spiral binding. He was relived that none of the pictures of the woman -- not one he knew but her face was vivid in his mind, all the same -- had been disturbed. He had offered, but he didn't want to part with any of them.

"And do you have your balance?" he asked, and he moved nearer. "My balance?"

It was, perhaps, a bit direct, but Khonshu was curious and eager. He was never a very patient God, and after such long denial from inadequate servants, he desired more -- deserved more.

Khonshu raised the image, demonstrating with its obvious symbol. "There is too much dark," he chided. "Where is your daylight, Ra?"

"My daylight?" He wasn't sure. He always remembered his suns bigger than how he really drew them. He opened the book again and turned to an empty page, drawing a half dollar sized circle in the center.

"There isn't a balance. Not really. Space is much darker than the light the sun can produce. There will always be more darkness. What is your balance, sir?"

Hm. That had not been what Khonshu was expecting. "I am not talking about the space beyond this place," he chided, a little sharper now than before. "I am talking about the realms of this world -- of night and day, where they rule equally."

Khonshu slipped off of the bench, moving to stand directly in front of the man again. He hated to interrupt this very important work, but he required his attention, and tapped his book with a bandaged hand.

"I am a night without day, and you can see how this troubles me," he continued bluntly. "I am Khonshu, and my balance is Ra."

"I don't know how I can help you with that," John said after a moment, softly. "I'm no sun. I'm just John. I'm not a hero like you are."

Though sometimes he had fancied himself as such, in dreams. A bright shining beacon of light that might cut through the sky like a cannonball. Anxiously he rubbed his hand through his hair, trying to decipher the meaning here. Maybe this person was crazy. But John didn't like assuming such a thing.

"What more can I do?"

Khonshu's patience began to thin. He tensed, his cloak bunching around his shoulders, and he loomed in closer to the man before him -- the man who would be a God. He knew what lurked within the man, and this stubborn barrier was preventing Khonshu from achieving his desire.

"You can obviously do little, maggot," hissed Khonshu, all his gentle coaxing lost to his bitterness. "Insect."

Khonshu grabbed for that golden hair which so betrayed him, bandaged fingers curling around rough strands. "You can do one thing," he threatened. "You can give me Ra."

"Ah--" John's eyes widened and he slid backward, trying to escape, his eyes flashing for a bare moment. He didn't understand what was happening, although something distant in the back of his mind seemed to. His eyes flashed again and he grabbed the man by the wrist, looking at where his fingers wrapped around the dusty blonde strands of hair. His sketchbook fell to the ground unnoticed.

"Don't do that."

It was brief, but it was there, and Khonshu latched onto the momentary vision, that burst of sunlight that revealed the God in the man. He felt an almost childish glee that was both delighted and predatory.

"There you are, Ra," rasped Khonshu, voice full of relief and urgency at once. He pressed forward, refusing to release his grip on his hair.

"Don't call me -- don't call me that!" Heat and light radiated from his body in alternating waves, John's face growing both stern and panicked. His eyes glowed again, his voice deepening to a low whisper.

"He's gone. He is staying. Gone," he gasped. "He has to!"

Khonshu insistently pressed forward, seeing the promise grow stronger and stronger in the mortal's flesh began to thin and expose what lurked beneath it.

"No, he's here," he said, low and rasping, and his hands began to smooth his hair back now, almost soothing -- once again coaxing. "Show him to me. Give me Ra."

John whined, burying his face behind his hands. "I can't, I can't," he groaned, struggling once more. "Whatever you're looking for doesn't belong here, he -- it -- it can't come out, I can't let it, you don't understand!"

He didn't understand, either. He just felt this bursting power just outside his thoughts, struggling and thrashing as if a monster being held back by a gate. He was afraid of it. He was in awe of it, but he was afraid...

The warnings brushed off of Khonshu. He knew full well of what he was dealing with, what he wanted. "My patience is not endless," threatened Khonshu lowly, and he was quickly becoming sick of the man's blubbering.

Khonshu moved his hands, grasping instead on the man's wrists and holding tight. "When I draw these away," he said. "The face beneath will be Ra, and not you, insect, unless you want to be made very sorry."

"Unhand me." His body flashed with light, searingly bright and hot in the faded evening. "You don't know what you're doing." His hair and eyes shone like beacons now, and he swept his arms to dislodge this person from his wrists.

"Especially if you are trying to threaten me. Why won't you let me die?"

Khonshu jerked back when the man reacted with sudden force -- no, no man, not anymore -- and he did not fight to grasp him again. It was more the flash of light than the strength of his arms which kept him at bay. Delight spilled deep in Khonshu's chest, but it was quieted by his relief and admiration of his kin.

"No, not threaten, not that it would matter," assured Khonshu, daring to creep close again, eyes squinting against the brilliant light. "Gods don't die." Khonshu smiled then, the expression only half pleasant. "Ra..."

"Some Gods should. Some Gods need to," he said, standing firm in his tone. He looked forward with eyes shining bright. He stood, exhaling impatiently.

"What is it that you want from me? What is it that you think you need?"

Khonshu tipped his head back and laughed at the reply, the sound coming out like a cawing bird. "So depressing!" he observed. "Has that sad shell you inhabit made you so jaded?"

Khonshu swept his tattered cape closer, his broad smile twisting the bandages on his face. "I want you to stop hiding," he replied simply. "I've missed my daylight."

"It has not. I did what I had to do. You don't understand. I don't exist without him, too. If I'm here, he's..."

The Sentry dipped his head, hair drooping over his eyes. There was an unsettling feeling in his chest; that feeling heroes get when they know they've let their public down. When they've let someone who needs them down. Would he have given up if Lindy were here?

"He could kill you. Everything. I needed to stop him for good."

Open Post 001

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