#mposiris

cont. from @mposiris:

osiris looks up at the young demigoddess when she comes asking that question, flashing her the most innocent grin he can conjure up - which is quite innocent given his boyish charms - and casually sits up a little straighter as he faces her.

“everything’s fine, what are you talking about?” he asks, blinking up at her like he’s got no idea what she’s on about, like there is absolutely nothing wrong with the scene he’s hiding with his entire body. siwoo, luckily, is smart enough to stay hidden, though the boy’s giggles probably don’t help their situation much. still, he pretends like siwoo is just having the time of his life with his colouring pencils rather than having gotten colours all over the table, the chair and himself in the past five minutes.

osiris made sure the colours can be washed off easily, after all, he has some experience with kids. only a good eight hundred years of raising them on and off.

“we’re just enjoying ourselves. nothing for you to worry about. you can go back to work, i’ve got everything under control. could you bring me another latte macchiato, though?” he blinks up at her with that same innocently sweet smile still, moving one hand behind his back to take hold of siwoo’s hand and keep him from accidentally letting one of his colourful fingers peek out.

As Angela stood before the god, she could sense the trouble brewing behind him. The series of giggles and the lack of seeing her actual child made it even more suspicious to her. However, she was not going to bother the pair to see what they were up to. They both appeared happy, and they were not bothering anyone. 

However, she did come by to check on them. Osiris was far too kind to try and taken Siwoo off of her plate, but she worried that she had been asking far too much to put this on him. “Are you sure?” She asked. A small frown lingered on her lips. Siwoo hid from his mother, though he wanted her to see his creation. He was very proud of his artwork, and the child even reached up to gently tugged on Osiris’s pants so that he could get him to look at it as well. 

Angela sighed out softly, reaching up to push a few strands of hair out of Osiris’s face. “Well, please let me know when you have to go. I don’t want to waste your whole day off. I will be back with your drink in a moment.” She states, and she turns away to go fix him his drink. 

The moment she leaves and Osiris can turn to see the child, Siwoo shows off the rather clumsily made stick drawing of Osiris he made. He had been very proud of it, especially with how well he had drawn the heart around the figure as well. 

starter for @mposiris ft Chinsun & Osiris 

With the loud, unyielding blare of the alarm system, followed by the clank of electronic locks, the cell door is unlocked, and Chinsun barely glances up from her paperwork as she slips inside. Past the custody sergeant eyeing her with a purse to his lips before a dubious glance is cast towards the cells single inhabitant. For a moment he hesitates to leave, pausing as if feeling he should remain, gaze once more shifting to the female lawyer with her glasses perched on the end of her nose, quickly reading the arrest sheet of her client. That is until Chinsun notices his hovering, and glances back with a arch of her brow and quickly nudges her head. “You can leave, I would like some time alone with my client-” she feels no ill intention from the man sat in the cell, and is pleased to see that soon the officer does indeed pull back. 

Something Curious | starter w/ @mposiris ft muzen & osiris 

“There’s something curious about that one” Muzen mutters as he presses his hands to the cold, moss covered face of a rock, nestled deep into the wooded area that lay off the beaten track of the park. Leaning forward on his hands, the park caretaker peers out from the dark treeline at the man, stumbling about so far from where people usually congregate within his parkland... and this wasn’t the first time he’d seen him either. 

Amber coloured eyes continue to track the stumbling giant as he moves past trees, evidently within his own world, investigating, and there is just something about him that Muzen can’t place. He didn’t feel normal. Around him bees buzz happily, hovering their fluffy, fat bodies beside him as they too watch. Their excited chatter annoys the god as he rolls his eyes with a tut “I know he’s tall!” He hisses, because bees could be distracted by anything handsome is seems! 

“Hm, driven him to an early grave with irritation, more like-” Phobetor mumbles back as he peers down the length of his long nose at the illuminated screen of his new computer. Slowly, pensive fingers jab at one key after another, as the expensive piece of kit sits on his nicely polished, oak desk in the office, surrounded by old things of a by-gone time. A brass barometer or a crackly old gramophone, items more of his time, then this shiny newness. How this was any quicker then pen and paper, Phobetor still remains to be convinced. 

Suddenly he pauses, that voice was by no doubt the deep timbre of the mummy god, but Phobetor had not let him in. Had he gotten so used to Osiris’ wilful breaking and entering now that the man answers his spoken internal dialogue, and Phobetor just accepts it?! Like a shadow or a conscience, Osiris always seemed to be there. 

Night-Time Nuisance | cont from here w/ @mposiris ft Phobetor & Osiris 

With a groan Phobetor flops back against his pillows as he watches Osiris appear from the shadows at the base of his bed. His bed. No, he was not in the master bedroom of his penthouse apartment downtown, but this was his home away from home. One of the bedrooms in Babylon he had claimed for himself. For long nights working (on paper-work), or more personal alone time, given he lives with his son. “That you are-” Phobetor grumbles, thinking he was not only a somebody but a nuisance! 

Shifting his bare legs under the silky sheets, the god casts an unimpressed glance over towards Osiris as the man makes himself comfortable beside him. Anubis would hit the roof at this misunderstanding. “Osiris-” he begins on a warning tone before the head flops down onto his lap and he jumps a little, before groaning as his own head once more rests back on his pillows. “You are not a child” he grumbles, just thankful that he at least had the forethought to put a night-shirt on. 

She had hidden once again in her kitchen. Angela was slowly baking a treat for both Siwoo and Osiris. She knew that they would be hungry soon. Or at least, the little boy would be. Yet, she was far unaware of how sleepy his son had been, and how soon the god was to seek her out.

So, as Osiris appeared in the kitchen, their light conversation took an unexpected twist by fault of herself. It had not been hidden well to most of her friends of the struggles that had occurred for her over the year. It was abundantly obvious that he cared for her, and while returned, she was quick to feel undeserving of it.

Angela's hand rested gently atop his chest, as if halting him from taking another step forward. Though, she knew he did not mean physically, far from that. "Osiris, you are my friend." She states warmly as she shifted her gaze to meet his. "My past is my burden to bear alone. You, in your many years, have experienced enough heartache and pain. I know you wish to help, but unless you can change the past, all I can ask is for your friendship. "