The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
Eight years ago her father took Amenemhat away from her. She cried, and cried, and cried but her brother left to go to the circus. Kesi ran after them. She wanted to go. She needed to go. She ran until her feet bleed out onto the sand and even after blood she continued to run. Her brother was gone. Her god was gone. Her meaning was... gone.
Kesi of Alexandria has died.
Passed away. Faded. Kesi was nothing. She was a shell. She had no purpose. She was an empty vessel waiting for her brother to give her light once again. But he wasn’t coming back. He may visit occasionally, but he was never returning. Kesi only had her mother for comfort, but that wasn’t enough. She was empty and cold. She was lost.
Two years went by before Kesi saw it… a spark of light. She followed that light and it led her to a new passion, Poisons. Kreios, a Greek merchant, taught her despite his reluctance. And poisons drove new life into Kesi. For while they may stop a heart, for Kesi they made it beat once again.
Kesi of Alexandria has been reborn.
Into the circus and reunited with her brother, Kesi once again served at her brother’s side. Only this time Kesi was grown. She was older, wiser, and had new abilities that could be utilized. And now the time finally came for the young snake charmer to prove to her brother that it is he who she serves and at any cost, she will give him his greatest desires.
The stage was now set, and while Amenemhat led the audience on a mystical journey, she too would take her father on one. She will open the doors and give him to Anubis for his final judgment, one of which Kesi was sure would not be in Somgi’s favor.
She prepared her father’s evening tea, though this time it came with a special ingredient. Kesi looked around seeing no one in her sight and tipped some liquid into his tea. Water Hemlock, enough that he would be dead within 30 minutes, but long enough that it would be torturous. Kesi will get her revenge for all the pain that he caused her, the fear that he instilled in her, and the hate that he brought from her. She saw her reflection in the dark liquid and a smile grew on her lips. It is by Amenemhat’s will, Kesi’s hand, and the creation of the Gods that Somgi of Cairo dies tonight. In his death, no one will mourn.
As she stirred the tea she closed her eyes and listened. The circus was starting but otherwise, everything was calm. Everything was still. Everything was balanced. And it was dreadful, it was terrible. For order to exist, people must be complacent, with no ambition, and no desire for change. There was no opportunity in peace. Stillness meant failure. One should always be moving, fighting, sewing chaos, and taking what should be theirs. Somgi of Cairo became far too comfortable spending his riches and fucking whores while the circus withered, crying for help, writhing in pain. And that fate would be exactly what Somgi experiences. For in this chaos that Kesi creates, her brother will seize his opportunity.
Kesi made her way to her father’s tent. She heard a disgusting gaggle of giggles from inside. Two women, two whores, were having their way with her father while not too far away her mother was, at the performance, likely knowing but no longer caring what her husband was doing. Kesi tucked out of sight and waited, listening to the slaps and moans feeling bile climb up her throat. Those slaps were familiar, but it was not memories of giggling that came to the surface, but sobs and pathetic begging. This man made Kesi into something that she was not: Weak. But with this tea, she will find strength. She will find new life in the death of Somgi of Cairo.
Loyalty was important, and this man had none. She could not believe that she shared his blood, that Amenemhat did as well. He was nothing like them. He was a disease, a plague upon her family, and the circus.
Not too long later the girls left. Kesi waited a moment before entering the tent. “Papa,” the word no longer seemed right. He was not her father. He had not been her father for a very long time, but he had been a monster. She would cry and hide behind her brother, or try to claw her way out of whatever tight spot he put her in until fingernails ripped off and blood slid down her arms. She would kick and scream as he loomed over her, nothing but pure malice in his eye. He was the subject of her nightmares, the cause of all the hate and anger in her heart. "I brought you your tea, Papa."
Bringing Somgi tea was not unusual. Kesi had always had been treated like a slave to him. No, worse than a slave. At least the slaves of the circus were worth the bit of coin Somgi paid to own them. Kesi was worth nothing, and she was his to abuse however he felt like. Since arriving at the circus Kesi had struggled to find her place among its people. She wanted to be a performer, as was her birthright. Somgi had other plans, ones that often wrought pain and misery upon the girl, or kept her from achieving her true potential. It wasn’t until Nem brought her to snakes did she see once again what she could truly become.
Kesi could truly be something. She was not a slave, not a pest, not a broken toy in the hands of a madman. Kesi was becoming exactly who she always meant to be. And right now with the poisoned tea in her hands, Somgi of Cairo was nothing. He was useless. It was disappointing to Kesi that every time she would remember her first kill she would have to remember Somgi who otherwise would be a forgotten memory, not worthy of her thoughts. And yet, all the same, she would revel in his suffocation and his realization that his time has come.
Kesi of Alexandria lives, and Somgi of Cairo will die.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Eight years ago her father took Amenemhat away from her. She cried, and cried, and cried but her brother left to go to the circus. Kesi ran after them. She wanted to go. She needed to go. She ran until her feet bleed out onto the sand and even after blood she continued to run. Her brother was gone. Her god was gone. Her meaning was... gone.
Kesi of Alexandria has died.
Passed away. Faded. Kesi was nothing. She was a shell. She had no purpose. She was an empty vessel waiting for her brother to give her light once again. But he wasn’t coming back. He may visit occasionally, but he was never returning. Kesi only had her mother for comfort, but that wasn’t enough. She was empty and cold. She was lost.
Two years went by before Kesi saw it… a spark of light. She followed that light and it led her to a new passion, Poisons. Kreios, a Greek merchant, taught her despite his reluctance. And poisons drove new life into Kesi. For while they may stop a heart, for Kesi they made it beat once again.
Kesi of Alexandria has been reborn.
Into the circus and reunited with her brother, Kesi once again served at her brother’s side. Only this time Kesi was grown. She was older, wiser, and had new abilities that could be utilized. And now the time finally came for the young snake charmer to prove to her brother that it is he who she serves and at any cost, she will give him his greatest desires.
The stage was now set, and while Amenemhat led the audience on a mystical journey, she too would take her father on one. She will open the doors and give him to Anubis for his final judgment, one of which Kesi was sure would not be in Somgi’s favor.
She prepared her father’s evening tea, though this time it came with a special ingredient. Kesi looked around seeing no one in her sight and tipped some liquid into his tea. Water Hemlock, enough that he would be dead within 30 minutes, but long enough that it would be torturous. Kesi will get her revenge for all the pain that he caused her, the fear that he instilled in her, and the hate that he brought from her. She saw her reflection in the dark liquid and a smile grew on her lips. It is by Amenemhat’s will, Kesi’s hand, and the creation of the Gods that Somgi of Cairo dies tonight. In his death, no one will mourn.
As she stirred the tea she closed her eyes and listened. The circus was starting but otherwise, everything was calm. Everything was still. Everything was balanced. And it was dreadful, it was terrible. For order to exist, people must be complacent, with no ambition, and no desire for change. There was no opportunity in peace. Stillness meant failure. One should always be moving, fighting, sewing chaos, and taking what should be theirs. Somgi of Cairo became far too comfortable spending his riches and fucking whores while the circus withered, crying for help, writhing in pain. And that fate would be exactly what Somgi experiences. For in this chaos that Kesi creates, her brother will seize his opportunity.
Kesi made her way to her father’s tent. She heard a disgusting gaggle of giggles from inside. Two women, two whores, were having their way with her father while not too far away her mother was, at the performance, likely knowing but no longer caring what her husband was doing. Kesi tucked out of sight and waited, listening to the slaps and moans feeling bile climb up her throat. Those slaps were familiar, but it was not memories of giggling that came to the surface, but sobs and pathetic begging. This man made Kesi into something that she was not: Weak. But with this tea, she will find strength. She will find new life in the death of Somgi of Cairo.
Loyalty was important, and this man had none. She could not believe that she shared his blood, that Amenemhat did as well. He was nothing like them. He was a disease, a plague upon her family, and the circus.
Not too long later the girls left. Kesi waited a moment before entering the tent. “Papa,” the word no longer seemed right. He was not her father. He had not been her father for a very long time, but he had been a monster. She would cry and hide behind her brother, or try to claw her way out of whatever tight spot he put her in until fingernails ripped off and blood slid down her arms. She would kick and scream as he loomed over her, nothing but pure malice in his eye. He was the subject of her nightmares, the cause of all the hate and anger in her heart. "I brought you your tea, Papa."
Bringing Somgi tea was not unusual. Kesi had always had been treated like a slave to him. No, worse than a slave. At least the slaves of the circus were worth the bit of coin Somgi paid to own them. Kesi was worth nothing, and she was his to abuse however he felt like. Since arriving at the circus Kesi had struggled to find her place among its people. She wanted to be a performer, as was her birthright. Somgi had other plans, ones that often wrought pain and misery upon the girl, or kept her from achieving her true potential. It wasn’t until Nem brought her to snakes did she see once again what she could truly become.
Kesi could truly be something. She was not a slave, not a pest, not a broken toy in the hands of a madman. Kesi was becoming exactly who she always meant to be. And right now with the poisoned tea in her hands, Somgi of Cairo was nothing. He was useless. It was disappointing to Kesi that every time she would remember her first kill she would have to remember Somgi who otherwise would be a forgotten memory, not worthy of her thoughts. And yet, all the same, she would revel in his suffocation and his realization that his time has come.
Kesi of Alexandria lives, and Somgi of Cairo will die.
Eight years ago her father took Amenemhat away from her. She cried, and cried, and cried but her brother left to go to the circus. Kesi ran after them. She wanted to go. She needed to go. She ran until her feet bleed out onto the sand and even after blood she continued to run. Her brother was gone. Her god was gone. Her meaning was... gone.
Kesi of Alexandria has died.
Passed away. Faded. Kesi was nothing. She was a shell. She had no purpose. She was an empty vessel waiting for her brother to give her light once again. But he wasn’t coming back. He may visit occasionally, but he was never returning. Kesi only had her mother for comfort, but that wasn’t enough. She was empty and cold. She was lost.
Two years went by before Kesi saw it… a spark of light. She followed that light and it led her to a new passion, Poisons. Kreios, a Greek merchant, taught her despite his reluctance. And poisons drove new life into Kesi. For while they may stop a heart, for Kesi they made it beat once again.
Kesi of Alexandria has been reborn.
Into the circus and reunited with her brother, Kesi once again served at her brother’s side. Only this time Kesi was grown. She was older, wiser, and had new abilities that could be utilized. And now the time finally came for the young snake charmer to prove to her brother that it is he who she serves and at any cost, she will give him his greatest desires.
The stage was now set, and while Amenemhat led the audience on a mystical journey, she too would take her father on one. She will open the doors and give him to Anubis for his final judgment, one of which Kesi was sure would not be in Somgi’s favor.
She prepared her father’s evening tea, though this time it came with a special ingredient. Kesi looked around seeing no one in her sight and tipped some liquid into his tea. Water Hemlock, enough that he would be dead within 30 minutes, but long enough that it would be torturous. Kesi will get her revenge for all the pain that he caused her, the fear that he instilled in her, and the hate that he brought from her. She saw her reflection in the dark liquid and a smile grew on her lips. It is by Amenemhat’s will, Kesi’s hand, and the creation of the Gods that Somgi of Cairo dies tonight. In his death, no one will mourn.
As she stirred the tea she closed her eyes and listened. The circus was starting but otherwise, everything was calm. Everything was still. Everything was balanced. And it was dreadful, it was terrible. For order to exist, people must be complacent, with no ambition, and no desire for change. There was no opportunity in peace. Stillness meant failure. One should always be moving, fighting, sewing chaos, and taking what should be theirs. Somgi of Cairo became far too comfortable spending his riches and fucking whores while the circus withered, crying for help, writhing in pain. And that fate would be exactly what Somgi experiences. For in this chaos that Kesi creates, her brother will seize his opportunity.
Kesi made her way to her father’s tent. She heard a disgusting gaggle of giggles from inside. Two women, two whores, were having their way with her father while not too far away her mother was, at the performance, likely knowing but no longer caring what her husband was doing. Kesi tucked out of sight and waited, listening to the slaps and moans feeling bile climb up her throat. Those slaps were familiar, but it was not memories of giggling that came to the surface, but sobs and pathetic begging. This man made Kesi into something that she was not: Weak. But with this tea, she will find strength. She will find new life in the death of Somgi of Cairo.
Loyalty was important, and this man had none. She could not believe that she shared his blood, that Amenemhat did as well. He was nothing like them. He was a disease, a plague upon her family, and the circus.
Not too long later the girls left. Kesi waited a moment before entering the tent. “Papa,” the word no longer seemed right. He was not her father. He had not been her father for a very long time, but he had been a monster. She would cry and hide behind her brother, or try to claw her way out of whatever tight spot he put her in until fingernails ripped off and blood slid down her arms. She would kick and scream as he loomed over her, nothing but pure malice in his eye. He was the subject of her nightmares, the cause of all the hate and anger in her heart. "I brought you your tea, Papa."
Bringing Somgi tea was not unusual. Kesi had always had been treated like a slave to him. No, worse than a slave. At least the slaves of the circus were worth the bit of coin Somgi paid to own them. Kesi was worth nothing, and she was his to abuse however he felt like. Since arriving at the circus Kesi had struggled to find her place among its people. She wanted to be a performer, as was her birthright. Somgi had other plans, ones that often wrought pain and misery upon the girl, or kept her from achieving her true potential. It wasn’t until Nem brought her to snakes did she see once again what she could truly become.
Kesi could truly be something. She was not a slave, not a pest, not a broken toy in the hands of a madman. Kesi was becoming exactly who she always meant to be. And right now with the poisoned tea in her hands, Somgi of Cairo was nothing. He was useless. It was disappointing to Kesi that every time she would remember her first kill she would have to remember Somgi who otherwise would be a forgotten memory, not worthy of her thoughts. And yet, all the same, she would revel in his suffocation and his realization that his time has come.
Kesi of Alexandria lives, and Somgi of Cairo will die.
Well outside of the circus' main tent, Somgi of Cairo relished in helping himself to a couple of the whores that made their way to the show. They chased after patronage, nubile bodies so tempting. So salacious were their offerings and so lacking were the ringmaster's own tasks for the evening that he couldn't help but... indulge.
Layla and Rekhmire can handle the Clique. They're an effective enough team.
Happy to delegate and not follow along. After all, Somgi of Cairo was far too distracted, what with the length of his cock stirring deep within the sex of some vapid whore. The moans pulled from her lips as the other moved her hands all along the length of Somgi's, wrapping him in a lover's embrace. Lips cradled the rampant pulse at Somgi's throat, moans of ecstasy at various degrees of exaggeration coming from both of the whores. Of course, Somgi was no longer a young man. His efforts surely wouldn't have these whores limping as they might've in his youth. But, it was no concern to him the pleasure of those whose services he solicited. After his own, seeking his own, Somgi of Cairo was ego given flesh to revel in the pleasures of the earth with.
Once Somgi was satisfied, he dismissed them without a word, pushing coin earned from the night's take into their hands before half-heartedly dressing himself in a shawl and the shendyt he'd worn earlier on.
“Papa.”
Somgi heard the untimely voice of the wretched girl his wife had adopted. While the boy could accept what wasn't, and while the woman seemed no longer aware of the fact that a doppelganger wore Kesi's face... Somgi could not. No, he was far too gone to consider Kesi anything close to family. She was a liability, but one he could sometimes turn to an asset whenever the desire struck him. He'd taken her time and time again, keenly aware of her attachment for his son that would surely turn into a dangerous sort of obsession. He battered her, ravaged her, and treated her like filth in an effort to make her less interesting to his heir.
The stunted doppelganger of Kesi of Alexandria was a twisted facsimile that he took all too much pleasure in tormenting whenever she missbehaved. It wasn't uncommon for the girl to seek to appease him with tea. The tincture helped him stabilize after his... activities. Additionally, he'd have her (or some other slave) take tonic to the whores, for surely the both of them skittered away with their holes filled with his seed.
Not that Layla would do anything about it. There's no way she's so dense as to be entirely unaware.
But, Somgi didn't care. Layla's feelings were well-gone past the point of his desire to recover them. Her bouts of insanity and the child she'd brought in served to ensure that Somgi kept her at an arm's length. She was useful, she was the mother of his surviving child... And that was all.
“Thank you, girl,” she said to her, taking the cup with a grunt before waving her away to keep her distance. The fake Kesi always freaked Somgi out, and her continued presence at the circus was growing more and more... irksome.
She takes her punishments... well, he assessed just as he took a sip.
He wondered if she ever rattled about her woes to Amenemhat, or if the elder child would even care. From what he understood, empathy was far beyond his heir's capacity, though as time went on he seemed more and more capable of making the illusion of it well enough. Soon, the boy would be ready for more responsibility. More and more of it so that Somgi could nearly retire and take a substantial enough salary while the boy became ringmaster in his stead.
I've earned my reward for this life of constant movement, he reflected.
"Is this the same one as always? It has an odd flavour to it. Come closer, girl," he said to her, always eager to punish her for even the slightest of mishaps she caused. His lips curved into a smirk as he awaited her obedience.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Well outside of the circus' main tent, Somgi of Cairo relished in helping himself to a couple of the whores that made their way to the show. They chased after patronage, nubile bodies so tempting. So salacious were their offerings and so lacking were the ringmaster's own tasks for the evening that he couldn't help but... indulge.
Layla and Rekhmire can handle the Clique. They're an effective enough team.
Happy to delegate and not follow along. After all, Somgi of Cairo was far too distracted, what with the length of his cock stirring deep within the sex of some vapid whore. The moans pulled from her lips as the other moved her hands all along the length of Somgi's, wrapping him in a lover's embrace. Lips cradled the rampant pulse at Somgi's throat, moans of ecstasy at various degrees of exaggeration coming from both of the whores. Of course, Somgi was no longer a young man. His efforts surely wouldn't have these whores limping as they might've in his youth. But, it was no concern to him the pleasure of those whose services he solicited. After his own, seeking his own, Somgi of Cairo was ego given flesh to revel in the pleasures of the earth with.
Once Somgi was satisfied, he dismissed them without a word, pushing coin earned from the night's take into their hands before half-heartedly dressing himself in a shawl and the shendyt he'd worn earlier on.
“Papa.”
Somgi heard the untimely voice of the wretched girl his wife had adopted. While the boy could accept what wasn't, and while the woman seemed no longer aware of the fact that a doppelganger wore Kesi's face... Somgi could not. No, he was far too gone to consider Kesi anything close to family. She was a liability, but one he could sometimes turn to an asset whenever the desire struck him. He'd taken her time and time again, keenly aware of her attachment for his son that would surely turn into a dangerous sort of obsession. He battered her, ravaged her, and treated her like filth in an effort to make her less interesting to his heir.
The stunted doppelganger of Kesi of Alexandria was a twisted facsimile that he took all too much pleasure in tormenting whenever she missbehaved. It wasn't uncommon for the girl to seek to appease him with tea. The tincture helped him stabilize after his... activities. Additionally, he'd have her (or some other slave) take tonic to the whores, for surely the both of them skittered away with their holes filled with his seed.
Not that Layla would do anything about it. There's no way she's so dense as to be entirely unaware.
But, Somgi didn't care. Layla's feelings were well-gone past the point of his desire to recover them. Her bouts of insanity and the child she'd brought in served to ensure that Somgi kept her at an arm's length. She was useful, she was the mother of his surviving child... And that was all.
“Thank you, girl,” she said to her, taking the cup with a grunt before waving her away to keep her distance. The fake Kesi always freaked Somgi out, and her continued presence at the circus was growing more and more... irksome.
She takes her punishments... well, he assessed just as he took a sip.
He wondered if she ever rattled about her woes to Amenemhat, or if the elder child would even care. From what he understood, empathy was far beyond his heir's capacity, though as time went on he seemed more and more capable of making the illusion of it well enough. Soon, the boy would be ready for more responsibility. More and more of it so that Somgi could nearly retire and take a substantial enough salary while the boy became ringmaster in his stead.
I've earned my reward for this life of constant movement, he reflected.
"Is this the same one as always? It has an odd flavour to it. Come closer, girl," he said to her, always eager to punish her for even the slightest of mishaps she caused. His lips curved into a smirk as he awaited her obedience.
Well outside of the circus' main tent, Somgi of Cairo relished in helping himself to a couple of the whores that made their way to the show. They chased after patronage, nubile bodies so tempting. So salacious were their offerings and so lacking were the ringmaster's own tasks for the evening that he couldn't help but... indulge.
Layla and Rekhmire can handle the Clique. They're an effective enough team.
Happy to delegate and not follow along. After all, Somgi of Cairo was far too distracted, what with the length of his cock stirring deep within the sex of some vapid whore. The moans pulled from her lips as the other moved her hands all along the length of Somgi's, wrapping him in a lover's embrace. Lips cradled the rampant pulse at Somgi's throat, moans of ecstasy at various degrees of exaggeration coming from both of the whores. Of course, Somgi was no longer a young man. His efforts surely wouldn't have these whores limping as they might've in his youth. But, it was no concern to him the pleasure of those whose services he solicited. After his own, seeking his own, Somgi of Cairo was ego given flesh to revel in the pleasures of the earth with.
Once Somgi was satisfied, he dismissed them without a word, pushing coin earned from the night's take into their hands before half-heartedly dressing himself in a shawl and the shendyt he'd worn earlier on.
“Papa.”
Somgi heard the untimely voice of the wretched girl his wife had adopted. While the boy could accept what wasn't, and while the woman seemed no longer aware of the fact that a doppelganger wore Kesi's face... Somgi could not. No, he was far too gone to consider Kesi anything close to family. She was a liability, but one he could sometimes turn to an asset whenever the desire struck him. He'd taken her time and time again, keenly aware of her attachment for his son that would surely turn into a dangerous sort of obsession. He battered her, ravaged her, and treated her like filth in an effort to make her less interesting to his heir.
The stunted doppelganger of Kesi of Alexandria was a twisted facsimile that he took all too much pleasure in tormenting whenever she missbehaved. It wasn't uncommon for the girl to seek to appease him with tea. The tincture helped him stabilize after his... activities. Additionally, he'd have her (or some other slave) take tonic to the whores, for surely the both of them skittered away with their holes filled with his seed.
Not that Layla would do anything about it. There's no way she's so dense as to be entirely unaware.
But, Somgi didn't care. Layla's feelings were well-gone past the point of his desire to recover them. Her bouts of insanity and the child she'd brought in served to ensure that Somgi kept her at an arm's length. She was useful, she was the mother of his surviving child... And that was all.
“Thank you, girl,” she said to her, taking the cup with a grunt before waving her away to keep her distance. The fake Kesi always freaked Somgi out, and her continued presence at the circus was growing more and more... irksome.
She takes her punishments... well, he assessed just as he took a sip.
He wondered if she ever rattled about her woes to Amenemhat, or if the elder child would even care. From what he understood, empathy was far beyond his heir's capacity, though as time went on he seemed more and more capable of making the illusion of it well enough. Soon, the boy would be ready for more responsibility. More and more of it so that Somgi could nearly retire and take a substantial enough salary while the boy became ringmaster in his stead.
I've earned my reward for this life of constant movement, he reflected.
"Is this the same one as always? It has an odd flavour to it. Come closer, girl," he said to her, always eager to punish her for even the slightest of mishaps she caused. His lips curved into a smirk as he awaited her obedience.
Kesi did what she would typically do. She placed the tea down in front of him and sat down in her spot, eyes cast downward and silent. Typically she would be itching to get out of there. She would say exactly what she was expected to say, be as still and obedient as possible, and try to be… well, the very thing Kesi hated: boring. She did not want for Somgi’s attention. Any moment alone with him was enough to make her skin crawl. In fact, it was typically nights like tonight where Kesi was on her best behavior. Nights where both mama and Nem were working, and she and Somgi were not.
But for the first time, Kesi did not want to be dismissed. She did not desire to leave. She would make mistakes, even, and take a few hits if it meant she would witness the finale. Tonight the show was not in the Grand Tent. Tonight, Kesi had a private show. One night only, no encores.
It was a good thing Kesi’s head was ducked down, for when she heard papa take his first sip, she struggled to bite back her smile. Teeth dug down onto her lip, so hard she feared she may bleed. Time started now. He would need to drink more, but once it was finished Somgi would have signed his own death.
However, the smile was quick to fade the moment he called Kesi closer to him. Instead, she tried not to cringe. She tugged at the cloth covering her body (she was much more modest than the average Egyptian whenever she would be entering her father’s tent alone) nervously. She hesitated, having no desire to be right next to her father. She would have misbehaved if he dismissed her, but Kesi would have rather waited in the corner until the show truly began. She shifted before finally moving closer now to sit next to him. She did her best not to glance at the drink. She had to act… natural.
Once he finishes the tea, it would be about 15 minutes before symptoms arise. After those fifteen minutes, he would begin to suffer from hallucinations, confusion, weakness, anxiety, or dizziness. After he may have seizures, which would lead to his brain swelling and blood coagulating. Otherwise, his lungs may paralyze, and he suffocates. For the millionth time, Kesi went over what should happen once he completed the tea. And Kesi would watch, wide-eyed and excited.
But what if it didn’t work?
Kesi never killed anyone before. What if she failed? Her brother said no blood, but he would be more disappointed if he didn’t die, right? If her father didn’t finish it, should she get violent? Should she try again another day? Or what if the Water Hemlock just failed? The entire dose that Krieos had given her is in that tea. They only had one shot at this. Krieos never failed her, but never did she ask him to give her something to kill someone. Everything would make sense, and she had delt with similar plants before… but theory and practice were two different things. The desire to see him dead did not necessarily translate into success.
But Kesi would not fail Amenemhat. Ever.
Dark eyes moved to meet her father’s. The hands in her lap fidgeted nervously, her thumb rubbing against her skin. She loathed that he made her this way. Kesi was not a timid girl. Kesi was not a girl who knew fear. Kesi was not weak. And tonight she will prove just that. Failure was not an option.
Her head bowed down once more. She retrained her gaze upon the ground. “It’s a different blend, Papa. I had to care for the snakes this morning and could not go to the market for the tea you prefer. This tea is still of the highest quality, papa. I wouldn’t serve you anything less.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Kesi did what she would typically do. She placed the tea down in front of him and sat down in her spot, eyes cast downward and silent. Typically she would be itching to get out of there. She would say exactly what she was expected to say, be as still and obedient as possible, and try to be… well, the very thing Kesi hated: boring. She did not want for Somgi’s attention. Any moment alone with him was enough to make her skin crawl. In fact, it was typically nights like tonight where Kesi was on her best behavior. Nights where both mama and Nem were working, and she and Somgi were not.
But for the first time, Kesi did not want to be dismissed. She did not desire to leave. She would make mistakes, even, and take a few hits if it meant she would witness the finale. Tonight the show was not in the Grand Tent. Tonight, Kesi had a private show. One night only, no encores.
It was a good thing Kesi’s head was ducked down, for when she heard papa take his first sip, she struggled to bite back her smile. Teeth dug down onto her lip, so hard she feared she may bleed. Time started now. He would need to drink more, but once it was finished Somgi would have signed his own death.
However, the smile was quick to fade the moment he called Kesi closer to him. Instead, she tried not to cringe. She tugged at the cloth covering her body (she was much more modest than the average Egyptian whenever she would be entering her father’s tent alone) nervously. She hesitated, having no desire to be right next to her father. She would have misbehaved if he dismissed her, but Kesi would have rather waited in the corner until the show truly began. She shifted before finally moving closer now to sit next to him. She did her best not to glance at the drink. She had to act… natural.
Once he finishes the tea, it would be about 15 minutes before symptoms arise. After those fifteen minutes, he would begin to suffer from hallucinations, confusion, weakness, anxiety, or dizziness. After he may have seizures, which would lead to his brain swelling and blood coagulating. Otherwise, his lungs may paralyze, and he suffocates. For the millionth time, Kesi went over what should happen once he completed the tea. And Kesi would watch, wide-eyed and excited.
But what if it didn’t work?
Kesi never killed anyone before. What if she failed? Her brother said no blood, but he would be more disappointed if he didn’t die, right? If her father didn’t finish it, should she get violent? Should she try again another day? Or what if the Water Hemlock just failed? The entire dose that Krieos had given her is in that tea. They only had one shot at this. Krieos never failed her, but never did she ask him to give her something to kill someone. Everything would make sense, and she had delt with similar plants before… but theory and practice were two different things. The desire to see him dead did not necessarily translate into success.
But Kesi would not fail Amenemhat. Ever.
Dark eyes moved to meet her father’s. The hands in her lap fidgeted nervously, her thumb rubbing against her skin. She loathed that he made her this way. Kesi was not a timid girl. Kesi was not a girl who knew fear. Kesi was not weak. And tonight she will prove just that. Failure was not an option.
Her head bowed down once more. She retrained her gaze upon the ground. “It’s a different blend, Papa. I had to care for the snakes this morning and could not go to the market for the tea you prefer. This tea is still of the highest quality, papa. I wouldn’t serve you anything less.”
Kesi did what she would typically do. She placed the tea down in front of him and sat down in her spot, eyes cast downward and silent. Typically she would be itching to get out of there. She would say exactly what she was expected to say, be as still and obedient as possible, and try to be… well, the very thing Kesi hated: boring. She did not want for Somgi’s attention. Any moment alone with him was enough to make her skin crawl. In fact, it was typically nights like tonight where Kesi was on her best behavior. Nights where both mama and Nem were working, and she and Somgi were not.
But for the first time, Kesi did not want to be dismissed. She did not desire to leave. She would make mistakes, even, and take a few hits if it meant she would witness the finale. Tonight the show was not in the Grand Tent. Tonight, Kesi had a private show. One night only, no encores.
It was a good thing Kesi’s head was ducked down, for when she heard papa take his first sip, she struggled to bite back her smile. Teeth dug down onto her lip, so hard she feared she may bleed. Time started now. He would need to drink more, but once it was finished Somgi would have signed his own death.
However, the smile was quick to fade the moment he called Kesi closer to him. Instead, she tried not to cringe. She tugged at the cloth covering her body (she was much more modest than the average Egyptian whenever she would be entering her father’s tent alone) nervously. She hesitated, having no desire to be right next to her father. She would have misbehaved if he dismissed her, but Kesi would have rather waited in the corner until the show truly began. She shifted before finally moving closer now to sit next to him. She did her best not to glance at the drink. She had to act… natural.
Once he finishes the tea, it would be about 15 minutes before symptoms arise. After those fifteen minutes, he would begin to suffer from hallucinations, confusion, weakness, anxiety, or dizziness. After he may have seizures, which would lead to his brain swelling and blood coagulating. Otherwise, his lungs may paralyze, and he suffocates. For the millionth time, Kesi went over what should happen once he completed the tea. And Kesi would watch, wide-eyed and excited.
But what if it didn’t work?
Kesi never killed anyone before. What if she failed? Her brother said no blood, but he would be more disappointed if he didn’t die, right? If her father didn’t finish it, should she get violent? Should she try again another day? Or what if the Water Hemlock just failed? The entire dose that Krieos had given her is in that tea. They only had one shot at this. Krieos never failed her, but never did she ask him to give her something to kill someone. Everything would make sense, and she had delt with similar plants before… but theory and practice were two different things. The desire to see him dead did not necessarily translate into success.
But Kesi would not fail Amenemhat. Ever.
Dark eyes moved to meet her father’s. The hands in her lap fidgeted nervously, her thumb rubbing against her skin. She loathed that he made her this way. Kesi was not a timid girl. Kesi was not a girl who knew fear. Kesi was not weak. And tonight she will prove just that. Failure was not an option.
Her head bowed down once more. She retrained her gaze upon the ground. “It’s a different blend, Papa. I had to care for the snakes this morning and could not go to the market for the tea you prefer. This tea is still of the highest quality, papa. I wouldn’t serve you anything less.”
Kesi made for poor diversion.
The girl constantly reminded him of the little girl he'd really lost, of the life he'd lost and the sort of misery that accompanied a long moment of true introspection. He kept the thoughts at bay, often enough far more preoccupied with concerns of the flesh or whatever pittance of business that needed to be settled as the day went on. He'd begun delegating more and more of the operations of the business side of the Tempest of Set to his subordinates, from merchant friends who gave him offerings of wine and women to the denizens of the circus itself that seemed more motivated than he to work.
He'd, in the end, see to it that there was something to squeeze for his living, yet. No matter how much the circus might bend to his indecisiveness about business matters, about his off-handed approach to the health of his business, he was certain, that in the end, matters would resolve themselves. Bloated by his perception of the Tempest of Set, he believed the circus 'too big to fail' and operated under that presumption. After all, there were investors to gratify, there were commitments to follow and certainly, it benefited the rest of the world too much to have the circus around for it to be eradicated by something as petty as negligence.
He chuckled at the thought as he took another sip of that gods-awful tea. Whatever new blend it was it seemed as if she'd made a conscious effort of making it some foul tincture unsuited to anything but the rabble that he let in to pickpocket his patronage. It was bile-inducing, even. Somgi narrowed his gaze at her, feeling an inkling of pressure in his throat that produced a cough. He scowled at the girl before he rose to his feet and stepped towards her.
"Highest quality, my ass, you incompetent wretch. What a waste of tea leaves," he muttered offhandedly before he looked to the girl herself,
"What a waste of space."
Truly, the man just wanted to complain. Too cheap to let a decent tea go to waste, he merely needed vocalized excuses to punish and beat the girl, to throw her into a coffin and leave her to suffer for it for hours. He knew the girl was, after all, highly fearful of enclosed spaces. He took a longer sip, letting the 'tch' of disdain escape his lips. There was maybe a good sip left within, but he rose up, intent on lashing out. An arm swept outward in an effort for it to collide with the girl's jawline.
"Don't you fucking try to placate me. You'd serve me swill if there was any around."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Kesi made for poor diversion.
The girl constantly reminded him of the little girl he'd really lost, of the life he'd lost and the sort of misery that accompanied a long moment of true introspection. He kept the thoughts at bay, often enough far more preoccupied with concerns of the flesh or whatever pittance of business that needed to be settled as the day went on. He'd begun delegating more and more of the operations of the business side of the Tempest of Set to his subordinates, from merchant friends who gave him offerings of wine and women to the denizens of the circus itself that seemed more motivated than he to work.
He'd, in the end, see to it that there was something to squeeze for his living, yet. No matter how much the circus might bend to his indecisiveness about business matters, about his off-handed approach to the health of his business, he was certain, that in the end, matters would resolve themselves. Bloated by his perception of the Tempest of Set, he believed the circus 'too big to fail' and operated under that presumption. After all, there were investors to gratify, there were commitments to follow and certainly, it benefited the rest of the world too much to have the circus around for it to be eradicated by something as petty as negligence.
He chuckled at the thought as he took another sip of that gods-awful tea. Whatever new blend it was it seemed as if she'd made a conscious effort of making it some foul tincture unsuited to anything but the rabble that he let in to pickpocket his patronage. It was bile-inducing, even. Somgi narrowed his gaze at her, feeling an inkling of pressure in his throat that produced a cough. He scowled at the girl before he rose to his feet and stepped towards her.
"Highest quality, my ass, you incompetent wretch. What a waste of tea leaves," he muttered offhandedly before he looked to the girl herself,
"What a waste of space."
Truly, the man just wanted to complain. Too cheap to let a decent tea go to waste, he merely needed vocalized excuses to punish and beat the girl, to throw her into a coffin and leave her to suffer for it for hours. He knew the girl was, after all, highly fearful of enclosed spaces. He took a longer sip, letting the 'tch' of disdain escape his lips. There was maybe a good sip left within, but he rose up, intent on lashing out. An arm swept outward in an effort for it to collide with the girl's jawline.
"Don't you fucking try to placate me. You'd serve me swill if there was any around."
Kesi made for poor diversion.
The girl constantly reminded him of the little girl he'd really lost, of the life he'd lost and the sort of misery that accompanied a long moment of true introspection. He kept the thoughts at bay, often enough far more preoccupied with concerns of the flesh or whatever pittance of business that needed to be settled as the day went on. He'd begun delegating more and more of the operations of the business side of the Tempest of Set to his subordinates, from merchant friends who gave him offerings of wine and women to the denizens of the circus itself that seemed more motivated than he to work.
He'd, in the end, see to it that there was something to squeeze for his living, yet. No matter how much the circus might bend to his indecisiveness about business matters, about his off-handed approach to the health of his business, he was certain, that in the end, matters would resolve themselves. Bloated by his perception of the Tempest of Set, he believed the circus 'too big to fail' and operated under that presumption. After all, there were investors to gratify, there were commitments to follow and certainly, it benefited the rest of the world too much to have the circus around for it to be eradicated by something as petty as negligence.
He chuckled at the thought as he took another sip of that gods-awful tea. Whatever new blend it was it seemed as if she'd made a conscious effort of making it some foul tincture unsuited to anything but the rabble that he let in to pickpocket his patronage. It was bile-inducing, even. Somgi narrowed his gaze at her, feeling an inkling of pressure in his throat that produced a cough. He scowled at the girl before he rose to his feet and stepped towards her.
"Highest quality, my ass, you incompetent wretch. What a waste of tea leaves," he muttered offhandedly before he looked to the girl herself,
"What a waste of space."
Truly, the man just wanted to complain. Too cheap to let a decent tea go to waste, he merely needed vocalized excuses to punish and beat the girl, to throw her into a coffin and leave her to suffer for it for hours. He knew the girl was, after all, highly fearful of enclosed spaces. He took a longer sip, letting the 'tch' of disdain escape his lips. There was maybe a good sip left within, but he rose up, intent on lashing out. An arm swept outward in an effort for it to collide with the girl's jawline.
"Don't you fucking try to placate me. You'd serve me swill if there was any around."
Kesi knew what was coming from the first complaint to have come from his mouth. She knew the second he asked her to come closer, what would happen. She knew as she watched the shadow on the ground rise the impact would be seconds away.
Crack!
A familiar sting knocked her head to the side. It resounded around the tent. Kesi blinked, never moving her head back. A hand slowly raised cupping her cheek. She felt tears start to sting her eyes, but these weren’t sad tears. These weren’t tears of pain. They were… angry. Kesi was angry.
His last actions were hurting Kesi. She never knew a time where her father was kind to her. He always treated her like garbage. Like… a waste of space. So much so that Kesi began to believe that of her self. At least until Nem turned her whole mindset around and took the role as guardian and mentor. And yet, even as she grew in skill, even as she became more and more independent, he still treated her badly. He would beat her, torture her, and rape her and for what? What did Kesi do to deserve this? Was it because she was born a woman? Did she do something to upset him?
This would be the last conversation she would ever have with him. This would be the last time he beat her. This would be the final act. “Why do you hate me?” Her voice was soft. She didn’t even look up at him. The hand remained on her face, her free one balled in a fist on her lap. “I didn’t do anything to you, papa. I only ever loved you. I did everything you asked. Even… Even when it hurt me. Even when I was scared..." She never wanted to remove her clothes to him. She never wanted to stay silent on how he treated her when her family was away. She never wanted any of this.
Her eyes flashed up now and the tears finally spilled. Hot, angry tears. She was furious. Never had Kesi felt such fury in her life. All the years of abuse was leading to this moment. All the years of torture… to this. She was struggling to keep her voice lower. She knew no one would be around this tent, everyone would be at the main event. But she could not risk anyone overhearing, no matter how much she just wanted to yell. “You abuse me. You rape me. I’m your daughter. You never even gave me a chance. I have tried everything to please you, papa. I’ve tried everything just so you could one day give me even the smallest bit of praise.”
Nem was her savior. She wanted since a child to make him happy. But what she wanted more, a secret she didn’t even realize now, was her father just to… acknowledge her. She just wanted him to say once that she was a good girl. She would never get that. And that was why he deserved this. More than what Nem, the person who loved, desired. He needed to die because Kesi wanted him to. Because he was horrible. He was evil. He broke Kesi more than anything in her life. The times she wished to just go back to the Nile and forget everything was because of him. The times she wished her snakes would just bite her and she’d make her way to Anubis’s scales was because of him. Everything, every god damn awful thing, was because of him.
Kesi stood up, using the back of her hand to brush the tears away. “I’m only a waste of space because you make me this way. I’m full of potential, Nem sees that. I work harder than anyone in this circus. And I do everything for you. But you make me so pathetic. You make this way, not me, not anyone else. I hate you. I hate you.”
Die.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Kesi knew what was coming from the first complaint to have come from his mouth. She knew the second he asked her to come closer, what would happen. She knew as she watched the shadow on the ground rise the impact would be seconds away.
Crack!
A familiar sting knocked her head to the side. It resounded around the tent. Kesi blinked, never moving her head back. A hand slowly raised cupping her cheek. She felt tears start to sting her eyes, but these weren’t sad tears. These weren’t tears of pain. They were… angry. Kesi was angry.
His last actions were hurting Kesi. She never knew a time where her father was kind to her. He always treated her like garbage. Like… a waste of space. So much so that Kesi began to believe that of her self. At least until Nem turned her whole mindset around and took the role as guardian and mentor. And yet, even as she grew in skill, even as she became more and more independent, he still treated her badly. He would beat her, torture her, and rape her and for what? What did Kesi do to deserve this? Was it because she was born a woman? Did she do something to upset him?
This would be the last conversation she would ever have with him. This would be the last time he beat her. This would be the final act. “Why do you hate me?” Her voice was soft. She didn’t even look up at him. The hand remained on her face, her free one balled in a fist on her lap. “I didn’t do anything to you, papa. I only ever loved you. I did everything you asked. Even… Even when it hurt me. Even when I was scared..." She never wanted to remove her clothes to him. She never wanted to stay silent on how he treated her when her family was away. She never wanted any of this.
Her eyes flashed up now and the tears finally spilled. Hot, angry tears. She was furious. Never had Kesi felt such fury in her life. All the years of abuse was leading to this moment. All the years of torture… to this. She was struggling to keep her voice lower. She knew no one would be around this tent, everyone would be at the main event. But she could not risk anyone overhearing, no matter how much she just wanted to yell. “You abuse me. You rape me. I’m your daughter. You never even gave me a chance. I have tried everything to please you, papa. I’ve tried everything just so you could one day give me even the smallest bit of praise.”
Nem was her savior. She wanted since a child to make him happy. But what she wanted more, a secret she didn’t even realize now, was her father just to… acknowledge her. She just wanted him to say once that she was a good girl. She would never get that. And that was why he deserved this. More than what Nem, the person who loved, desired. He needed to die because Kesi wanted him to. Because he was horrible. He was evil. He broke Kesi more than anything in her life. The times she wished to just go back to the Nile and forget everything was because of him. The times she wished her snakes would just bite her and she’d make her way to Anubis’s scales was because of him. Everything, every god damn awful thing, was because of him.
Kesi stood up, using the back of her hand to brush the tears away. “I’m only a waste of space because you make me this way. I’m full of potential, Nem sees that. I work harder than anyone in this circus. And I do everything for you. But you make me so pathetic. You make this way, not me, not anyone else. I hate you. I hate you.”
Die.
Kesi knew what was coming from the first complaint to have come from his mouth. She knew the second he asked her to come closer, what would happen. She knew as she watched the shadow on the ground rise the impact would be seconds away.
Crack!
A familiar sting knocked her head to the side. It resounded around the tent. Kesi blinked, never moving her head back. A hand slowly raised cupping her cheek. She felt tears start to sting her eyes, but these weren’t sad tears. These weren’t tears of pain. They were… angry. Kesi was angry.
His last actions were hurting Kesi. She never knew a time where her father was kind to her. He always treated her like garbage. Like… a waste of space. So much so that Kesi began to believe that of her self. At least until Nem turned her whole mindset around and took the role as guardian and mentor. And yet, even as she grew in skill, even as she became more and more independent, he still treated her badly. He would beat her, torture her, and rape her and for what? What did Kesi do to deserve this? Was it because she was born a woman? Did she do something to upset him?
This would be the last conversation she would ever have with him. This would be the last time he beat her. This would be the final act. “Why do you hate me?” Her voice was soft. She didn’t even look up at him. The hand remained on her face, her free one balled in a fist on her lap. “I didn’t do anything to you, papa. I only ever loved you. I did everything you asked. Even… Even when it hurt me. Even when I was scared..." She never wanted to remove her clothes to him. She never wanted to stay silent on how he treated her when her family was away. She never wanted any of this.
Her eyes flashed up now and the tears finally spilled. Hot, angry tears. She was furious. Never had Kesi felt such fury in her life. All the years of abuse was leading to this moment. All the years of torture… to this. She was struggling to keep her voice lower. She knew no one would be around this tent, everyone would be at the main event. But she could not risk anyone overhearing, no matter how much she just wanted to yell. “You abuse me. You rape me. I’m your daughter. You never even gave me a chance. I have tried everything to please you, papa. I’ve tried everything just so you could one day give me even the smallest bit of praise.”
Nem was her savior. She wanted since a child to make him happy. But what she wanted more, a secret she didn’t even realize now, was her father just to… acknowledge her. She just wanted him to say once that she was a good girl. She would never get that. And that was why he deserved this. More than what Nem, the person who loved, desired. He needed to die because Kesi wanted him to. Because he was horrible. He was evil. He broke Kesi more than anything in her life. The times she wished to just go back to the Nile and forget everything was because of him. The times she wished her snakes would just bite her and she’d make her way to Anubis’s scales was because of him. Everything, every god damn awful thing, was because of him.
Kesi stood up, using the back of her hand to brush the tears away. “I’m only a waste of space because you make me this way. I’m full of potential, Nem sees that. I work harder than anyone in this circus. And I do everything for you. But you make me so pathetic. You make this way, not me, not anyone else. I hate you. I hate you.”
Die.
As the tears welled up in the doppelganger girl's eyes, the flickering amusement in Somgi's own gaze shifted along the girl's face. He searched her expression for the fear he wanted to see. The quiver of the lip, the creasing of her brows... And yet, none of it arrived. Instead, her eyes were pulled shut, she pulled herself in and seemed almost... reserved. Was she resigned to her fate and simply accepting the beating that drew inexorably closer? The aged ringmaster was unimpressed.
Disappointing.
He wanted to see her express her suffering, to bring life to his exhausted body and the cloudy haze of post-coitus pleasure, replacing lazy satisfaction with something resembling... life. However, the sensation of disappointment quickly gave way to something approaching curiosity. She started to speak, and while her words, ordinarily, were things to be ignored and forgotten about, she asked questions. What bullshit was this? What right did this doppelganger have to address him with anything but the affirmation he sought after? What right did this puppet meant to satisfy his wife's desire for a complete family have to say anything of reproach?
Disappointment was rapidly replaced with utter disgust. He held her words in contempt as her quiet voice blathered out her reservations. Why did he hate her? There were countless reasons, unlimited rationale with why he could be interpreted to hate her. However, he didn't hate her. He continued to listen to the girl as she spoke, becoming more and more familiar with the sound of the adult Kesi's voice. She was a doll, quiet and demure, to be twisted in any way he sought. However, now? She had a voice, she had words to speak and while they were beseeching him for answers... It was hilarious.
This facsimile has no right to speak, but each word in answer is a hot knife to stab into her chest, he reasoned as he considered those very words. She went on to list his actions as if they were crimes, as if his unwillingness to allow her any sort of freedom or praise was some sort of cruelty. It was the reality. While she bore the vestments of a circus daughter, a performer without performances, she was little more than a slave.
"Is this what you consider hatred?" he answered her, the coarse laughter that spilled from his lips mocking her for the conviction to speak. He belittled her suffering in his tone, drawing near to her again as a hand rose up to her chest, snaring the fabric of the girl's kalasiris. It was so amusing, how she covered herself up, as if a bit of fabric ever stopped him from taking what he wanted from her. The laughter grew hoarse, a strange tightening in his throat welling fire and bile in his chest. However, he ignored it. He thought little of it, for age had its means of stealing his health away from him and there was a girl to answer and render her silent.
"You're not worth the emotion, girl." His grasp tore into the fabric, tearing it in twain as he used the opportunity to twine his fingers within the tear.
"How much time have you spent, awake at night, imagining the day I might be torn away from the circus? Have you imagined yourself away from this circus? From your brother? From me? What thoughts ail you through the evening. The more you think about me, the more important I am. You, girl? Never have I lost a moment's rest thinking about you. You're a diversion, an outlet for more pressing matters. To hate you would be like hating a rag, or a slave. You are, and will forever be, nothing."
"But, you're right. You have tried everything to please me. You've done your fledgling purpose well enough. And for that, you have the privilege to continue living."
Her last words, her attempt to refute his words and throw his son into the mix of reasons she was in any way relevant. He shrugged his shoulders at the admission of her hatred, of her idea that she worked harder than anyone. It didn't matter, and neither did she.
"Amenemhat sees what he wants to see. He is deluded if he thinks you worth anything more than the warmth of your body."
At the edges of Somgi's vision, dark clouds began to muster. The fabric on the tent was blurring, the candlelight flickering large shadows that seemed to twitch and vibrate in awkward directions. Somgi must've truly worn himself thin. Maybe he was getting too old to take on two whores at once. He'd consider that possibility in the future.
He struck her again, still gripping her torn kalasiris as the palm of his left hand sought to impact. He was getting slower, and slowly, a sense of dread began to well within him. What was going on? Why was he feeling so dreadful?
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
As the tears welled up in the doppelganger girl's eyes, the flickering amusement in Somgi's own gaze shifted along the girl's face. He searched her expression for the fear he wanted to see. The quiver of the lip, the creasing of her brows... And yet, none of it arrived. Instead, her eyes were pulled shut, she pulled herself in and seemed almost... reserved. Was she resigned to her fate and simply accepting the beating that drew inexorably closer? The aged ringmaster was unimpressed.
Disappointing.
He wanted to see her express her suffering, to bring life to his exhausted body and the cloudy haze of post-coitus pleasure, replacing lazy satisfaction with something resembling... life. However, the sensation of disappointment quickly gave way to something approaching curiosity. She started to speak, and while her words, ordinarily, were things to be ignored and forgotten about, she asked questions. What bullshit was this? What right did this doppelganger have to address him with anything but the affirmation he sought after? What right did this puppet meant to satisfy his wife's desire for a complete family have to say anything of reproach?
Disappointment was rapidly replaced with utter disgust. He held her words in contempt as her quiet voice blathered out her reservations. Why did he hate her? There were countless reasons, unlimited rationale with why he could be interpreted to hate her. However, he didn't hate her. He continued to listen to the girl as she spoke, becoming more and more familiar with the sound of the adult Kesi's voice. She was a doll, quiet and demure, to be twisted in any way he sought. However, now? She had a voice, she had words to speak and while they were beseeching him for answers... It was hilarious.
This facsimile has no right to speak, but each word in answer is a hot knife to stab into her chest, he reasoned as he considered those very words. She went on to list his actions as if they were crimes, as if his unwillingness to allow her any sort of freedom or praise was some sort of cruelty. It was the reality. While she bore the vestments of a circus daughter, a performer without performances, she was little more than a slave.
"Is this what you consider hatred?" he answered her, the coarse laughter that spilled from his lips mocking her for the conviction to speak. He belittled her suffering in his tone, drawing near to her again as a hand rose up to her chest, snaring the fabric of the girl's kalasiris. It was so amusing, how she covered herself up, as if a bit of fabric ever stopped him from taking what he wanted from her. The laughter grew hoarse, a strange tightening in his throat welling fire and bile in his chest. However, he ignored it. He thought little of it, for age had its means of stealing his health away from him and there was a girl to answer and render her silent.
"You're not worth the emotion, girl." His grasp tore into the fabric, tearing it in twain as he used the opportunity to twine his fingers within the tear.
"How much time have you spent, awake at night, imagining the day I might be torn away from the circus? Have you imagined yourself away from this circus? From your brother? From me? What thoughts ail you through the evening. The more you think about me, the more important I am. You, girl? Never have I lost a moment's rest thinking about you. You're a diversion, an outlet for more pressing matters. To hate you would be like hating a rag, or a slave. You are, and will forever be, nothing."
"But, you're right. You have tried everything to please me. You've done your fledgling purpose well enough. And for that, you have the privilege to continue living."
Her last words, her attempt to refute his words and throw his son into the mix of reasons she was in any way relevant. He shrugged his shoulders at the admission of her hatred, of her idea that she worked harder than anyone. It didn't matter, and neither did she.
"Amenemhat sees what he wants to see. He is deluded if he thinks you worth anything more than the warmth of your body."
At the edges of Somgi's vision, dark clouds began to muster. The fabric on the tent was blurring, the candlelight flickering large shadows that seemed to twitch and vibrate in awkward directions. Somgi must've truly worn himself thin. Maybe he was getting too old to take on two whores at once. He'd consider that possibility in the future.
He struck her again, still gripping her torn kalasiris as the palm of his left hand sought to impact. He was getting slower, and slowly, a sense of dread began to well within him. What was going on? Why was he feeling so dreadful?
As the tears welled up in the doppelganger girl's eyes, the flickering amusement in Somgi's own gaze shifted along the girl's face. He searched her expression for the fear he wanted to see. The quiver of the lip, the creasing of her brows... And yet, none of it arrived. Instead, her eyes were pulled shut, she pulled herself in and seemed almost... reserved. Was she resigned to her fate and simply accepting the beating that drew inexorably closer? The aged ringmaster was unimpressed.
Disappointing.
He wanted to see her express her suffering, to bring life to his exhausted body and the cloudy haze of post-coitus pleasure, replacing lazy satisfaction with something resembling... life. However, the sensation of disappointment quickly gave way to something approaching curiosity. She started to speak, and while her words, ordinarily, were things to be ignored and forgotten about, she asked questions. What bullshit was this? What right did this doppelganger have to address him with anything but the affirmation he sought after? What right did this puppet meant to satisfy his wife's desire for a complete family have to say anything of reproach?
Disappointment was rapidly replaced with utter disgust. He held her words in contempt as her quiet voice blathered out her reservations. Why did he hate her? There were countless reasons, unlimited rationale with why he could be interpreted to hate her. However, he didn't hate her. He continued to listen to the girl as she spoke, becoming more and more familiar with the sound of the adult Kesi's voice. She was a doll, quiet and demure, to be twisted in any way he sought. However, now? She had a voice, she had words to speak and while they were beseeching him for answers... It was hilarious.
This facsimile has no right to speak, but each word in answer is a hot knife to stab into her chest, he reasoned as he considered those very words. She went on to list his actions as if they were crimes, as if his unwillingness to allow her any sort of freedom or praise was some sort of cruelty. It was the reality. While she bore the vestments of a circus daughter, a performer without performances, she was little more than a slave.
"Is this what you consider hatred?" he answered her, the coarse laughter that spilled from his lips mocking her for the conviction to speak. He belittled her suffering in his tone, drawing near to her again as a hand rose up to her chest, snaring the fabric of the girl's kalasiris. It was so amusing, how she covered herself up, as if a bit of fabric ever stopped him from taking what he wanted from her. The laughter grew hoarse, a strange tightening in his throat welling fire and bile in his chest. However, he ignored it. He thought little of it, for age had its means of stealing his health away from him and there was a girl to answer and render her silent.
"You're not worth the emotion, girl." His grasp tore into the fabric, tearing it in twain as he used the opportunity to twine his fingers within the tear.
"How much time have you spent, awake at night, imagining the day I might be torn away from the circus? Have you imagined yourself away from this circus? From your brother? From me? What thoughts ail you through the evening. The more you think about me, the more important I am. You, girl? Never have I lost a moment's rest thinking about you. You're a diversion, an outlet for more pressing matters. To hate you would be like hating a rag, or a slave. You are, and will forever be, nothing."
"But, you're right. You have tried everything to please me. You've done your fledgling purpose well enough. And for that, you have the privilege to continue living."
Her last words, her attempt to refute his words and throw his son into the mix of reasons she was in any way relevant. He shrugged his shoulders at the admission of her hatred, of her idea that she worked harder than anyone. It didn't matter, and neither did she.
"Amenemhat sees what he wants to see. He is deluded if he thinks you worth anything more than the warmth of your body."
At the edges of Somgi's vision, dark clouds began to muster. The fabric on the tent was blurring, the candlelight flickering large shadows that seemed to twitch and vibrate in awkward directions. Somgi must've truly worn himself thin. Maybe he was getting too old to take on two whores at once. He'd consider that possibility in the future.
He struck her again, still gripping her torn kalasiris as the palm of his left hand sought to impact. He was getting slower, and slowly, a sense of dread began to well within him. What was going on? Why was he feeling so dreadful?
To do the same thing over and over again and expect different results.
Kesi tried all her life to please Somgi. As a child she would celebrate his return with a naive mentality that her excitement would bring excitement in her father. All it led was for her to be beaten down, barely able to breathe until her brother shielded her from his fist and her mother’s screams and pleas for her husband to stop barely muffled by the door to their room.
To do the same thing…
As she entered the circus Kesi tried to learn. She first began training with the acrobats, learning how to bend and dance just as they did. Never did her father approve. She moved onto lion taming, shelving any fear to face those beasts unblinkingly. He never even gave her a second glance. And even when she was led to snake charming and found that she was better at it than anyone in the circus, able to tame them, dance with them, and extract their venom for poisons and to be sold… never did he care.
… over and over again…
Kesi would serve him tea every night. She would weather his hits. She would remove her clothes even if killed her each time she did. She would allow herself to be ravaged by her father, for him to fill her with his seed and sob as she choked down the tea. He would degrade her, belittle her, crush her until she was:
Nothing.
… and expect different results.
She had wasted far too much thought on this man. The man who had his hand to her chest, who brought her closer and sought to twist the knife and make her more hollow than she already was. Kesi would lie awake at night afraid that he would enter her tent. Afraid that he would beat her, rape her, torture her. Kesi would dream of suicide, of running away, of leaving this life and the horrors it brought if it were not for her mother and brother. And no matter what Kesi did, no matter what she tried, nothing changed.
Insanity.
The slap came hard but this time Kesi did not raise a hand. This time the tears did not shed. Her head remained there for far too long. It hung, Kesi’s eyes just staring at the carpet. The clean carpet. The nice carpet.
Then there was laughter.
The laughter was loud and uncontrollable. It spilt out of her lips one after the other. Her sides ached and her body shook from the intense laughter. Her eyes grew wide, manic. Her chest raised and lowered rapidly.
Silence.
The smile disappeared. Just as quickly as the laughter came it suddenly ceased. The child was gone, hiding in the dark corners of her mind. But it was not Desire who came out to replace her. Desire who sought to protect the child, give her what she truly wanted, was far too weak. This ego was colder, crueller. This ego weathered the trauma when it was at its pique when Somgi did something so unbelievably terrible that the child would not be able to go on and would have chosen to swallow the poison that she brews. This ego was the cold hatred that was deep within Kesi. It lied and wait for its opportunity to come out.
Crack!
Kesi’s hand returned the slap to Somgi. It was at this point the man was getting weaker, sinking to the ground. His hand slipped from her clothes. Kesi walked forward. “You are nothing.” She said simply. She took steps forward as Somgi took steps back. His face was beginning to blue. “You are the waste of space. You ruin the circus with your ineptitude. You, Somgi, are weak.”
Somgi fell to his knees and Kesi reach forward, gripping his chin so that he would stare into her eyes. “Amenemhat is strong. He will lead this circus and you will be but a footnote. A name no one, not even I, will remember.” Kesi leaned forward, her face inches away from him. “Amenemhat ordered your death. But the girl you find useless? The girl who is nothing? She executed it.” Kesi shoved him back so he would fall to the floor. “I will do anything for my love. He is my god. And you? Are worth no more words.”
With paralyzed lungs he could no longer breathe. He died in a pool of his own drool. And Kesi bore no emotion. She simply went back to the table and looked at the cup with one last sip of tea left. “Pathetic.”
INSANITY.
The personalities were fighting. The Tempest of Chaos within her mind whirled. Kesi felt all the emotion all at once. Happiness, sadness, excitement, anger. She felt herself sinking to the ground, each shard of her broken self clawing now at a chance to see it… the need to witness with their own eyes the death of the man who was the cause of all the suffering each personality had gone through.
Kesi sunk to the ground arms covering her ears and hands knotting in her hair. She tucked her face down. Once again the laughter took over, rocking her to the core. With the laughter came tears, and the desire to drink that last gulp of tea.
And then back to nothing. She was silent. Quiet tears dripped to the floor. She remained with her head ducked down and arms protecting herself. She sat in the middle of the floor, her father’s dead body inches from her own, and torn clothes uselessly falling limp. She waited to see which personality would win the battle.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
To do the same thing over and over again and expect different results.
Kesi tried all her life to please Somgi. As a child she would celebrate his return with a naive mentality that her excitement would bring excitement in her father. All it led was for her to be beaten down, barely able to breathe until her brother shielded her from his fist and her mother’s screams and pleas for her husband to stop barely muffled by the door to their room.
To do the same thing…
As she entered the circus Kesi tried to learn. She first began training with the acrobats, learning how to bend and dance just as they did. Never did her father approve. She moved onto lion taming, shelving any fear to face those beasts unblinkingly. He never even gave her a second glance. And even when she was led to snake charming and found that she was better at it than anyone in the circus, able to tame them, dance with them, and extract their venom for poisons and to be sold… never did he care.
… over and over again…
Kesi would serve him tea every night. She would weather his hits. She would remove her clothes even if killed her each time she did. She would allow herself to be ravaged by her father, for him to fill her with his seed and sob as she choked down the tea. He would degrade her, belittle her, crush her until she was:
Nothing.
… and expect different results.
She had wasted far too much thought on this man. The man who had his hand to her chest, who brought her closer and sought to twist the knife and make her more hollow than she already was. Kesi would lie awake at night afraid that he would enter her tent. Afraid that he would beat her, rape her, torture her. Kesi would dream of suicide, of running away, of leaving this life and the horrors it brought if it were not for her mother and brother. And no matter what Kesi did, no matter what she tried, nothing changed.
Insanity.
The slap came hard but this time Kesi did not raise a hand. This time the tears did not shed. Her head remained there for far too long. It hung, Kesi’s eyes just staring at the carpet. The clean carpet. The nice carpet.
Then there was laughter.
The laughter was loud and uncontrollable. It spilt out of her lips one after the other. Her sides ached and her body shook from the intense laughter. Her eyes grew wide, manic. Her chest raised and lowered rapidly.
Silence.
The smile disappeared. Just as quickly as the laughter came it suddenly ceased. The child was gone, hiding in the dark corners of her mind. But it was not Desire who came out to replace her. Desire who sought to protect the child, give her what she truly wanted, was far too weak. This ego was colder, crueller. This ego weathered the trauma when it was at its pique when Somgi did something so unbelievably terrible that the child would not be able to go on and would have chosen to swallow the poison that she brews. This ego was the cold hatred that was deep within Kesi. It lied and wait for its opportunity to come out.
Crack!
Kesi’s hand returned the slap to Somgi. It was at this point the man was getting weaker, sinking to the ground. His hand slipped from her clothes. Kesi walked forward. “You are nothing.” She said simply. She took steps forward as Somgi took steps back. His face was beginning to blue. “You are the waste of space. You ruin the circus with your ineptitude. You, Somgi, are weak.”
Somgi fell to his knees and Kesi reach forward, gripping his chin so that he would stare into her eyes. “Amenemhat is strong. He will lead this circus and you will be but a footnote. A name no one, not even I, will remember.” Kesi leaned forward, her face inches away from him. “Amenemhat ordered your death. But the girl you find useless? The girl who is nothing? She executed it.” Kesi shoved him back so he would fall to the floor. “I will do anything for my love. He is my god. And you? Are worth no more words.”
With paralyzed lungs he could no longer breathe. He died in a pool of his own drool. And Kesi bore no emotion. She simply went back to the table and looked at the cup with one last sip of tea left. “Pathetic.”
INSANITY.
The personalities were fighting. The Tempest of Chaos within her mind whirled. Kesi felt all the emotion all at once. Happiness, sadness, excitement, anger. She felt herself sinking to the ground, each shard of her broken self clawing now at a chance to see it… the need to witness with their own eyes the death of the man who was the cause of all the suffering each personality had gone through.
Kesi sunk to the ground arms covering her ears and hands knotting in her hair. She tucked her face down. Once again the laughter took over, rocking her to the core. With the laughter came tears, and the desire to drink that last gulp of tea.
And then back to nothing. She was silent. Quiet tears dripped to the floor. She remained with her head ducked down and arms protecting herself. She sat in the middle of the floor, her father’s dead body inches from her own, and torn clothes uselessly falling limp. She waited to see which personality would win the battle.
To do the same thing over and over again and expect different results.
Kesi tried all her life to please Somgi. As a child she would celebrate his return with a naive mentality that her excitement would bring excitement in her father. All it led was for her to be beaten down, barely able to breathe until her brother shielded her from his fist and her mother’s screams and pleas for her husband to stop barely muffled by the door to their room.
To do the same thing…
As she entered the circus Kesi tried to learn. She first began training with the acrobats, learning how to bend and dance just as they did. Never did her father approve. She moved onto lion taming, shelving any fear to face those beasts unblinkingly. He never even gave her a second glance. And even when she was led to snake charming and found that she was better at it than anyone in the circus, able to tame them, dance with them, and extract their venom for poisons and to be sold… never did he care.
… over and over again…
Kesi would serve him tea every night. She would weather his hits. She would remove her clothes even if killed her each time she did. She would allow herself to be ravaged by her father, for him to fill her with his seed and sob as she choked down the tea. He would degrade her, belittle her, crush her until she was:
Nothing.
… and expect different results.
She had wasted far too much thought on this man. The man who had his hand to her chest, who brought her closer and sought to twist the knife and make her more hollow than she already was. Kesi would lie awake at night afraid that he would enter her tent. Afraid that he would beat her, rape her, torture her. Kesi would dream of suicide, of running away, of leaving this life and the horrors it brought if it were not for her mother and brother. And no matter what Kesi did, no matter what she tried, nothing changed.
Insanity.
The slap came hard but this time Kesi did not raise a hand. This time the tears did not shed. Her head remained there for far too long. It hung, Kesi’s eyes just staring at the carpet. The clean carpet. The nice carpet.
Then there was laughter.
The laughter was loud and uncontrollable. It spilt out of her lips one after the other. Her sides ached and her body shook from the intense laughter. Her eyes grew wide, manic. Her chest raised and lowered rapidly.
Silence.
The smile disappeared. Just as quickly as the laughter came it suddenly ceased. The child was gone, hiding in the dark corners of her mind. But it was not Desire who came out to replace her. Desire who sought to protect the child, give her what she truly wanted, was far too weak. This ego was colder, crueller. This ego weathered the trauma when it was at its pique when Somgi did something so unbelievably terrible that the child would not be able to go on and would have chosen to swallow the poison that she brews. This ego was the cold hatred that was deep within Kesi. It lied and wait for its opportunity to come out.
Crack!
Kesi’s hand returned the slap to Somgi. It was at this point the man was getting weaker, sinking to the ground. His hand slipped from her clothes. Kesi walked forward. “You are nothing.” She said simply. She took steps forward as Somgi took steps back. His face was beginning to blue. “You are the waste of space. You ruin the circus with your ineptitude. You, Somgi, are weak.”
Somgi fell to his knees and Kesi reach forward, gripping his chin so that he would stare into her eyes. “Amenemhat is strong. He will lead this circus and you will be but a footnote. A name no one, not even I, will remember.” Kesi leaned forward, her face inches away from him. “Amenemhat ordered your death. But the girl you find useless? The girl who is nothing? She executed it.” Kesi shoved him back so he would fall to the floor. “I will do anything for my love. He is my god. And you? Are worth no more words.”
With paralyzed lungs he could no longer breathe. He died in a pool of his own drool. And Kesi bore no emotion. She simply went back to the table and looked at the cup with one last sip of tea left. “Pathetic.”
INSANITY.
The personalities were fighting. The Tempest of Chaos within her mind whirled. Kesi felt all the emotion all at once. Happiness, sadness, excitement, anger. She felt herself sinking to the ground, each shard of her broken self clawing now at a chance to see it… the need to witness with their own eyes the death of the man who was the cause of all the suffering each personality had gone through.
Kesi sunk to the ground arms covering her ears and hands knotting in her hair. She tucked her face down. Once again the laughter took over, rocking her to the core. With the laughter came tears, and the desire to drink that last gulp of tea.
And then back to nothing. She was silent. Quiet tears dripped to the floor. She remained with her head ducked down and arms protecting herself. She sat in the middle of the floor, her father’s dead body inches from her own, and torn clothes uselessly falling limp. She waited to see which personality would win the battle.
Crack!
The blood that pulsed through Somgi's face at the collision of Kesi's hand against it seemed to exacerbate whatever it was that was happening to him. His body felt sluggish, his fingers trembling and his breathing becoming more and more difficult to keep steady. Then, the vile girl had the gall to speak to him. After she struck him, she berated him. Somgi would have her head for it. He'd bury her in a coffin then fill it with sand. He'd tell his son that the insane girl merely ran away and bury her near the Nile. His wife would suffer for it all, but in the end... it didn't matter. Somgi of Cairo was the ringmaster, the ruler of his own little empire and they would do as he said.
She ceased to be useful, and there were countless whores and slaves within and outside of the Tempest of Set that he could and absolutely did satisfy himself with. No, the time of this child's usefulness was past. Her words meant nothing to him. And yet... the rest of it, the way his body felt... Somgi felt weak... He felt the tremors grow worse and at last he came to the proper conclusion... Poison. Kesi had been fiddling about with her little potions and her frilly plants. Somgi had never paid too much mind of it, and the realization that ignoring everything about the girl except for the hole he could put his cock in... It was scathing. He tried and failed to raise his hands, wanting to choke the life out of her and take her with him to the afterlife...
But, he couldn't. His body was betraying him, but his mind remained whole, his brain working even as his jaw slacked. Amenemhat would lead them? He was a young man just out of boyhood, lacking the experience needed to lead such an endeavor. Somgi of Cairo had purposely kept him at bay, coming to the understanding that the boy's potential far outweighed his own. He followed the boy's progress carefully, feeding him just enough to be more useful. He encouraged the boy to pursue the interest he held in magic, in the study of heka and the understanding of the ba. To Somgi, it was nonsense and superstition, but deeply entertaining nonetheless. But... none of it was threatening. None of it would usurp him.
The idea to murder him couldn't have been Kesi's... At least, not the Kesi he'd seen before. The lilt in her voice now, the insults and the strength that came from her... This was a different being altogether. But, he couldn't react. His eyes were wide with fear, his jaw stuck in its position as Kesi admitted her love for Amenemhat. It was repulsive, that such a girl would possibly have a chance with his blood. He could ruin it, turn her to disarray by a simple admission of truth. He needed it, the opportunity. With the last of his strength, he gripped at Kesi's kalasiris, pulling the girl close as he struggled with words,
"Your... love is... a lie,"
Your brother is not yours. You are an illusion. A fake. Issa of Alexandria, he wanted to say. He needed it, but he couldn't. His face had turned blue, his body utterly devoid of motion. Somgi of Cairo fell back, his knees buckled, his muscled pulled and torn by the sudden jerk of motion. He convulsed on the floor before turning on his side. Drool and foam pooled onto the floor as his body moved its last. A simple twitch and...
Clever boy...
Somgi of Cairo was gone.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Crack!
The blood that pulsed through Somgi's face at the collision of Kesi's hand against it seemed to exacerbate whatever it was that was happening to him. His body felt sluggish, his fingers trembling and his breathing becoming more and more difficult to keep steady. Then, the vile girl had the gall to speak to him. After she struck him, she berated him. Somgi would have her head for it. He'd bury her in a coffin then fill it with sand. He'd tell his son that the insane girl merely ran away and bury her near the Nile. His wife would suffer for it all, but in the end... it didn't matter. Somgi of Cairo was the ringmaster, the ruler of his own little empire and they would do as he said.
She ceased to be useful, and there were countless whores and slaves within and outside of the Tempest of Set that he could and absolutely did satisfy himself with. No, the time of this child's usefulness was past. Her words meant nothing to him. And yet... the rest of it, the way his body felt... Somgi felt weak... He felt the tremors grow worse and at last he came to the proper conclusion... Poison. Kesi had been fiddling about with her little potions and her frilly plants. Somgi had never paid too much mind of it, and the realization that ignoring everything about the girl except for the hole he could put his cock in... It was scathing. He tried and failed to raise his hands, wanting to choke the life out of her and take her with him to the afterlife...
But, he couldn't. His body was betraying him, but his mind remained whole, his brain working even as his jaw slacked. Amenemhat would lead them? He was a young man just out of boyhood, lacking the experience needed to lead such an endeavor. Somgi of Cairo had purposely kept him at bay, coming to the understanding that the boy's potential far outweighed his own. He followed the boy's progress carefully, feeding him just enough to be more useful. He encouraged the boy to pursue the interest he held in magic, in the study of heka and the understanding of the ba. To Somgi, it was nonsense and superstition, but deeply entertaining nonetheless. But... none of it was threatening. None of it would usurp him.
The idea to murder him couldn't have been Kesi's... At least, not the Kesi he'd seen before. The lilt in her voice now, the insults and the strength that came from her... This was a different being altogether. But, he couldn't react. His eyes were wide with fear, his jaw stuck in its position as Kesi admitted her love for Amenemhat. It was repulsive, that such a girl would possibly have a chance with his blood. He could ruin it, turn her to disarray by a simple admission of truth. He needed it, the opportunity. With the last of his strength, he gripped at Kesi's kalasiris, pulling the girl close as he struggled with words,
"Your... love is... a lie,"
Your brother is not yours. You are an illusion. A fake. Issa of Alexandria, he wanted to say. He needed it, but he couldn't. His face had turned blue, his body utterly devoid of motion. Somgi of Cairo fell back, his knees buckled, his muscled pulled and torn by the sudden jerk of motion. He convulsed on the floor before turning on his side. Drool and foam pooled onto the floor as his body moved its last. A simple twitch and...
Clever boy...
Somgi of Cairo was gone.
Crack!
The blood that pulsed through Somgi's face at the collision of Kesi's hand against it seemed to exacerbate whatever it was that was happening to him. His body felt sluggish, his fingers trembling and his breathing becoming more and more difficult to keep steady. Then, the vile girl had the gall to speak to him. After she struck him, she berated him. Somgi would have her head for it. He'd bury her in a coffin then fill it with sand. He'd tell his son that the insane girl merely ran away and bury her near the Nile. His wife would suffer for it all, but in the end... it didn't matter. Somgi of Cairo was the ringmaster, the ruler of his own little empire and they would do as he said.
She ceased to be useful, and there were countless whores and slaves within and outside of the Tempest of Set that he could and absolutely did satisfy himself with. No, the time of this child's usefulness was past. Her words meant nothing to him. And yet... the rest of it, the way his body felt... Somgi felt weak... He felt the tremors grow worse and at last he came to the proper conclusion... Poison. Kesi had been fiddling about with her little potions and her frilly plants. Somgi had never paid too much mind of it, and the realization that ignoring everything about the girl except for the hole he could put his cock in... It was scathing. He tried and failed to raise his hands, wanting to choke the life out of her and take her with him to the afterlife...
But, he couldn't. His body was betraying him, but his mind remained whole, his brain working even as his jaw slacked. Amenemhat would lead them? He was a young man just out of boyhood, lacking the experience needed to lead such an endeavor. Somgi of Cairo had purposely kept him at bay, coming to the understanding that the boy's potential far outweighed his own. He followed the boy's progress carefully, feeding him just enough to be more useful. He encouraged the boy to pursue the interest he held in magic, in the study of heka and the understanding of the ba. To Somgi, it was nonsense and superstition, but deeply entertaining nonetheless. But... none of it was threatening. None of it would usurp him.
The idea to murder him couldn't have been Kesi's... At least, not the Kesi he'd seen before. The lilt in her voice now, the insults and the strength that came from her... This was a different being altogether. But, he couldn't react. His eyes were wide with fear, his jaw stuck in its position as Kesi admitted her love for Amenemhat. It was repulsive, that such a girl would possibly have a chance with his blood. He could ruin it, turn her to disarray by a simple admission of truth. He needed it, the opportunity. With the last of his strength, he gripped at Kesi's kalasiris, pulling the girl close as he struggled with words,
"Your... love is... a lie,"
Your brother is not yours. You are an illusion. A fake. Issa of Alexandria, he wanted to say. He needed it, but he couldn't. His face had turned blue, his body utterly devoid of motion. Somgi of Cairo fell back, his knees buckled, his muscled pulled and torn by the sudden jerk of motion. He convulsed on the floor before turning on his side. Drool and foam pooled onto the floor as his body moved its last. A simple twitch and...