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All Nico wanted was one day in London without having to stop a mugging of some kind.
He sighed as he heard a scream come from an alleyway. He rushed forwards.
“Break his windpipe!” Another voice yelled.
“Fuck off!” And there was another man there.
Nico rounded the corner to hear more screaming.
“Marc I don’t understand why you suddenly have morals.” The big bird man sounded disgusted with that last word, “Ever since Steven—“
“Keep that name out of your mouth.” ‘Marc’ responded.
“I tell you to break his windpipe: you punch his gut. I tell you that this man is a serial rapist and what do you do? ‘The court will do justice’ when has a courtroom ever made a good decision?” His voice was harsh and Nico flinched at it. The godly rage behind it all was too much to bear—and as nobody else was reacting besides him and Marc, he had to assume this guy was a god.
Nico didn’t even need the tone of voice to know. The big raven skull on his head proved and mummified body proved that from a glance.
“You’re my Knight.” He said, “I’d expect you to do better!” Nico flinched as the god grew in size, rage becoming evident and even this ‘Marc’ person stepping back. The god turned its gaze upon him and settled down, titling its head and seemingly smiling. “Oh, hello Nico!”
Nico blinked. That voice was familiar… “Khonshu?” The god nodded, “W-what?”
“Marc meet Nico.” The god shifted to his form as a young child, this time adorned with different clothing and jewellery.
Nico thought that the Egyptian deities fashion sense was better than the Greeks. For instance, Khonshu was now wearing a loose black shirt, short sleeves with a skeleton depicted in an electric chair, the words ‘Death Row’ inscribed. He had a circlet, similar in style to the ones the Hunters of Artemis wore, with the moon phases as gemstones fastened to it. He had many bracelets and necklaces, and his moon anklet was still there, as well as his many rings. He wore normal cuffed jeans with sandals on his feet.
“Um…” Marc responded, still recovering from the god’s 180 personality change. “Hi?” Nico didn’t need to recover though. He had been around gods —Khonshu especially— so much that he was used to them going from killing you with a thunderbolt to making you prince of Olympus in a single minute.
Khonshu crossed his arms ans huffed, glaring up at Marc, “Be nice, and say it like you mean it!” He smiled gently towards Nico, “Mr. Di Angelo is an honoured guest of mine.”
“Y-you—“ Marc stuttered, “—actually tolerate him?” He looked between Nico and Khonshu and Nico couldn’t tell who that was directed at.
He chose to respond to it. “We have regular meet-ups.” He shrugged, “We have tea, paint each other’s nails, gossip…”
Marc was staring at him like he was from another planet. “H-how?”
Khonshu smiled, “You’re not the only one speak to.” He paused, “I have friends, you know.”
“With your personality?” Nico chuckled at that and Khonshu glared at Marc.
He scowled and his voice grew deep and steely, “Don’t forget your place, My Knight.” He growled out, “Your body and mind belong to Me, I can do whatever I please and if that involves not sending my aid? Not giving you my blessing in battle?” He scoffed, “Then so be it.”
“I’m not afraid of you!” Marc snarled back and Nico cleared his throat. They both whipped their heads around to look at him and Nico felt sorry for their necks.
“So Khonshu,” He began, “Wanna go do each other’s nails, seeing as you’re not busy?”
The god perked up and out of his mood and ran over to grab his arm. “Yes!” Nico thought he could see stars in his eyes, although it wouldn’t be out of place… god of the moon and all that.
Marc stared as the two walked away, arms linked together. Khonshu acted no more that a child with Nico, and he wondered how that poor boy would get manipulated by Khonshu. How they even met each other to begin with was a mystery.
Steven stirred in his head, “Yo” he paused, searching for that memory, “Mate, what the fuck?”