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They are sitting in a small park, enjoying the nice weather that they have been graced with. Steven smiles as the rays of sun warm on their skin, dappled by the trees overhead. Marc is leaned back in their mind as he enjoys the cadence of Stevens ever running internal monolog. They’ve gotten used to each other over the last few months. It was tough the first few weeks, they both will admit that. After the drama with Harrow and the adrenaline of it all settled, they tripped and stumbled through the days that followed. There were shouting matches, physically one sided as they were; things were thrown, and reflective surfaces broken. But then things had calmed down and they’d talked it out. Even the old bird threw in a few bits of wisdom that ended up being helpful. So, Steven and Marc were out today, rejoicing in their newfound footing.
“You two should be practicing your fighting”, Khonshu’s voice butts in on the calm atmosphere, "Or scoping your next target."
Steven still jumps, because he swears he wont be used to that any time soon. It is easier to ignore the god now though. Khonshu needs them more than he’ll admit, so Stevens' fear of the being has lessened considerably.
‘We can take some time during the day to celebrate the little things’, Marc says dryly.
They both ignore the looming, attempt at menacing, shadow of the deity over their shoulder. Khonshu isn’t visible to anyone but them at the moment. He knows better than to show himself in the middle of a public space such as this in broad daylight. A breeze that carries the cool of the desert night and the scent of sand and bone wafts past them. It’s Khonshu throwing a small tantrum and Stevens lips twitch as he can tell that Marc is about to snark a comment that will poke the gods irritation even more. He’s about to resign his good afternoon in the park to having to listen to Marc and Khonshu bicker back and forth when Steven spots a person passing by pause out of the corner of his eye.
“Aww. Pretty bird.”
Khonshu freezes where he’s still leaned over their body with his hand clenching at their head like he was just itching to throttle them. Marc’s attention snaps to the person that spoke and Steven looks up to take in the innocent bystander that has dared to stop in front of them. It’s a young girl, about 12 or so. Her dark hair hangs low on her shoulders and in her eyes, which are rimmed in thick black khol. All of her clothes are in shades of black and a silver chain hangs around her neck with a circle that holds the phases of the moon. The girl is holding herself slightly hunched, hands twisting a little nervously, but she’s looking over their shoulder with unafraid and interested eyes.
“Umm. Beg pardon?”, Steven asks.
“The bird. He’s pretty”, the girl says, nodding over Stevens' shoulder.
Marc seems to have caught up with what’s happening because he makes a wholly rude snorting sound. Steven’s still not quite sure what’s going on here. Knochu’s supposed to be invisible to everyone except for them.
“...What?”, Steven turns to look on either side behind them, but all that’s there is Khonshu, still standing there.
Except now the deity is looking at the young girl with an intense curiosity. Steven worries for the girl, since in his experience having that kind of focus on you from a god isn’t necessarily the best. Before he can think to say anything else though, the girl steps closer, looking up at Khonshu, and she smiles.
“You’re a pretty shiny bird.”
“I am not a pretty bird. I am a god”, Khonshu says imperiously.
The god steps forward so that he’s now standing next to the bench where they are sitting and sets the end of his staff down forcefully. Months ago Steven would have been scared by the grand move. He would have trembled and shouted and wondered what the hell was going on. Now though, it seems a bit melodramatic. Again, Marc makes a snorting snicker that sounds like he’s trying to cover up a laugh. Steven can’t help the twitch in their lips. The girl has to lean back to look up at the large skull and beak of Khonshu's head.
“Wow. You’re a tall birdy. Aren’t you?”, she says, her voice sweet and happy.
Khonshu’s body twitches. Steven isn’t sure if he’s about to try and lash out at the girl, but he also wonders why the god just hasn’t disappeared completely and been done with it.
“Here. I have a pretty rock for the pretty bird”, the girl says and then she’s pulling a blue bit of stone from her pocket.
She holds it out and waves it side to side in the air. As if done completely without meaning to, Khonshu’s head tilts and bobs to follow the motion of the stone. He realizes he’s doing it a fraction of a second later, which was a fraction of a second too late because Marc laughs fully and it rings in Stevens ears. His hold on the smile on their face slips and he bites down on the bottom lip to keep from laughing just like Marc.
“How dare you, mortal”, Khonshu snaps, waving his arms and staff, moving to make himself seem bigger, “I am a god. Not some normal-”
Khonshu’s words cut off as the girl wiggles the stone in her hand side to side again and Khonshu’s head bobbles to mirror the motion. It's made all the more amusing since the old bird has no neck, so his disconnected head moves back and forth while his body remains motionless.
"No", Khonshu declares, shaking himself and puffing up, "I am an ancient Egyptian god and… I…do not…"
The beings' words trail off as his pointed beak continues to follow the motion of the girl's hand.
“Aw see. Pretty bird likes the pretty rock.”
A giggle that might be a tad hysteric ekes its way past their lips where Steven has them desperately clenched shut. Marc is very well holding in wheezing worthy of a train whistle. The god shakes his head, tenses, but then seems to deflate and relax as his hollow eye sockets continue to follow the rock in the girl's hand.
“Yes”, Khonshu nods after a moment, squatting down and tilting his head to better look at the stone in the young girl's hand, “It is a very pretty rock.”
At that, Marc lets loose the laughter he’d been holding in and Steven feels their gut clench with the strength of it. A snicker makes it’s way past his control.
“Would the pretty bird like the pretty rock?”, the girl laughs lightly, innocently.
“You may keep the pretty rock, dear child”, Khonshu says gently.
“I want you to have it”, the young one smiles, holding the stone more out to Khonshu.
The deity’s head tilts this way and that, bird-like and clearly without meaning to, before he holds out his hand not gripping his staff.
“I will accept this gift. Thank you, child.”
“You’re welcome, pretty bird”, the girl grins, dropping the stone into Khonshu’s hand.
The god looks down at what’s been handed to him, head tilting curiously. When Steven looks away from the deity and back to the girl, it's to find that she’s not there. Blinking, he looks back to Khonshu to find the god gone as well. A pressure in their hand draws his attention and Steven looks down to find his fist clenched. He relaxes their fingers and opens their hand to find the small rock. It’s just a regular garden stone that’s been painted bright blue.
‘Pretty rock’, Marc snorts through his laughter.
Oh, shut up , Khonshu’s voice rings through their head. Steven isn’t sure if a god can be embarrassed, but Khonshu kind of sounds like it. Smiling, he turns the blue rock over in his hand.
“Pretty rock for a pretty bird”, Steven says without thinking and Marc howls with renewed laughter while Khonshu’s presence disappears in a huffy gust of wind.
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