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The gentle morning sun struggled to peek through the slim opening in the curtains, casting a long ray of warm light into the room and onto a rather nice seeming bed. A soft snoring sound timed to the barely perceptible rises and falls in the chest of a figure, partly buried under the beds sheets, were the sole sign of life in the room. A chest of drawers and a few shelves sat opposite the window, playing home to various models of ancient pyramids and temples, or even serving as a sort of display stand for various items made from gold that seemed to shimmer and shine, even in the room's attempt at darkness. An ankh made from gold carefully formed into shape by someone's clearly skilled hands sat next to beetles of gold layered over silver, a large topaz held in front of it by claws, hieroglyphs of some long since forgotten incantation decorating the beetles shell. And next to them both, leaned against the shelf that served as their make-shift display case, was a long scepter, again formed of gold. The scepter's head had been skillfully formed into the shape of a cobra, its hood flared out in a forever frozen act of defiance at some unknown annoyance, with eye’s of lapis lazuli casting its gaze out at whatever it had been. So skillful were the hands that had crafted this staff, that each and every scale of the cobra had been meticulously crafted, rendered in such a way that it seemed as though someone had simply turned the hissing cobra to gold. Something that, no doubt, was not lost on its owner, who slumbered away in his bed.
The sudden sound of pots crashing, along with vases shattering, sent the slumbering man shooting upright as the muffled sounds of unintelligible shouting soon followed. The sheets falling off around him, revealing a rather tacky shirt more fit for a last minute fathers day gift than anything someone who owns a collection of golden items might have worn, his very well toned muscles seemingly devoured by the shirt's sheer size. A very unique tattoo traced the man's right eye, with an angled line that ended in a swirl flying down from the corner of his eye nearest his nose, a short line that seemed to form an almost tear-like shape falling from the same place. The man brought a hand to his face in an attempt to rub it free of the sleep that still hung about his mind, clouding it with its call for him to return his head to the fluffy pillows it had just come from. Letting out a loud yawn, he cast off the sheets that still begged him to stay. The man cast the room's curtains open, letting a barrage of light flood into his room and reveal the undeniably Egyptian theming of it. The sight out the window was rather unremarkable for someone like him, being little better than a sight of a small town far below, almost framed by the clouds that seemingly held up his house. Something that any ordinary mortal might have freaked out at, but not for him, nor his daughters, and much less the other old deities whose houses crowded around his, forming a sort of floating neighborhood in the sky. Another loud flurry of bangs, clangs and crashes echoed out from behind his door, drawing his attention away from the view of his neighbors homes as he cast it upon his door. A loud groan of resignation sounded out as another set of muffled shouts followed, acting as a sort of music for him as he made his way through the door, his feet dragging along the floor the whole way.
The sight that greeted him was, unfortunately, all too common for him. Two of his daughters stood on either side of an open plan common room, throwing whatever they could find at each other, all the while his third daughter sat in the middle contently sipping on a cup of warm coffee, seemingly oblivious to the furor that raged around her. And they say raising girls was easier , he mused to himself as he shuffled over to his kitchen, the fight between the two girls seemingly unaffected by the appearance of their dad. Having made himself a coffee, the man sat down next to his third daughter who gave him a polite smile, followed soon after by a simple ‘good morning’ as vase flew over the two’s heads, smashing into a wall with a loud crash before showering the floor in it’s broken shards.
“How long have they been at it this time?”
The third daughter glanced away in thought, returning to giving a polite smile to her dad once she had her answer.
“Well, Sekhmet started prodding at Bastet first, and that was about three or four hours ago” The third daughter took a silent sip of her morning brew as a barrage of flying pots and pans were traded by the two other girls, savouring it’s flavour for a moment before swallowing her sip to continue, “Buuut if you mean this whole throwing things at each other part, that only started a few minutes ago”
“I bet Apollo doesn’t have to deal with this every day” the man gave as a dry remark as he sipped away at his coffee, eliciting a polite chuckle from his daughter.
“Apollo has more children than all us Kemetic gods combined, you know”
“And how many of them do you see coming and going from his house?”
“Most of them” she replied as she took another sip of her coffee, “But only on days when his child support is due”
Neither Ra nor his daughter could stifle their laughter. As terrible as Apollo and the other Hellenes could be, they did make for some good jokes.
The brief moment of levity between Ra and his daughter soon came to an end, as both Sekhmet and Bastet finally became aware of their father’s presence. The two girls traded a knowing stare at each other for a brief moment before they practically threw themselves at the couch, seemingly racing to see who would be the one to claim the one seat next to Ra. Bastet was the one to win that competition, gracefully landing with a bounce on the couch as Sekhmet collided with the couches back, sending her flying over it and onto the floor in front.
“Oh my, who knew that Lions were so clumsy” Bastet teased as Sekhmet grumbled away to herself, resigned to accepting the only open seat left next to her sister.
“Now now, Bastet, don’t be a sour winner”
“I am not! And besides, she started it!”
“I didn’t!” Came Sekhmet's surprisingly spirited reply, “You keep leaving your clothes all over the room!”
“I’m surprised you can see they’re my clothes!”
The two girls soon fell into an argument once again, leaving their dad and sister to sip away on their coffee, hoping the argument would die down soon enough. Except it wasn’t. The two sisters went from angrily pointing out their issues with each other to outright insults by the time Ra’s coffee got half-way finished.
With an exhausted huff, Ra stood up from the couch and made his way to a glass floor to ceiling window, casting his gaze over the world below him. There, far down below, he was greeted with the sight of a worryingly large number of mortals, their bums pointed high to the sky giving him an undesirably good look at their behinds. Ra could do little but take a deep sip of his coffee, holding it in his mouth for a moment in an attempt to savour it’s flavour as the sounds of his two daughters fighting once again filled the air, swallowing the sip as the sound of another vase smashing into a wall sounded out. Ra took a deep breath at his situation, mortals pointing their bums at him from below while his two daughters squabble about some obscure yet totally pointless thing, letting it out as he spoke with a resigned voice.
“They used to build statues of me…”