V3 Incline 35: Undwote, God of Death

"Going to admit... Thought Clohniq would have won." Nin comments as he continues to pick away at his basket of cheesy chips. Looking up from my own food with the scent of cheddar in my nose, I frown. Turning towards Father, I watch Him as He blabbers away with some hidden-around-the-corner family members. My foot tapping nearly strikes louder than the music coming down from the speakers.

I'm so close to finally fulfilling my duty with Nin, he is nearly ready to be sent back to All That Remains...

"Why'd you think that?" I ask, not quite getting it as I have seen her lose games and matches before. I guess he thinks because she's the Goddess of Technique that she must just know the best way to win? Maybe I've simply seen others win so much at other things that it is a strange concept to me.

I smirk a little.

"Well, you know. Goddess of Technique and all that! Would have thought she would have, well, had a technique that would win her the game." he says, proving my initial line of thought right. We both glance over at the winner as Ihtuntar steps up onto a little podium. A rare, ear-to-ear smile on his face as he nervously takes up the won trophy. I smile a little at how it may be possible people flunked the game so that we could see Ihtuntar wear a different expression.

Or, Father's playing favourites again, sabotaging our games.

Now that I think about it, I was feeling a little strange, almost weak, whenever it was my turn on the lane. Almost as if He was equalising it to the extreme so that none of us had an inbuilt advantage, such as Clohniq's perfect skill. Maybe I should've banked on the fact I am forced to be a child and kept the side barriers up when it was my turn to use the lane. Always would've taken some pins that way, at the very least, my pride be damned!

Nin rises up, placing his hand on the table and I catch sight of a shiny piece.

"And where'd you get that?" I ask, raising a brow as I sense the blatant connection it has to my eldest sister, Motrtha. I know I saw her giving this mortal here glances throughout. Aahtha was definitely gossiping something between them as well. What are they planning!?

Why is Motrtha in on this...?

"This? Motrtha gave it to me before we got off the ship back when we ploughed straight into that street." he explains with his tone becoming rather baffled as he continues to think about what is pretty normal for us. We sail in on the waters of the Orbital-Halo, then, we run ashore in nothing but concrete and steel piping. I guess there's a point to it, however, why not just give that place a dock?

Who knows with Father, who really knows other than the idiot piloting Him.

"Did she explain why?" I ask as I hide my suspicion-aroused attitude in a sip from my cup.

"No, I just assumed it was linked to Thurnmourer and Clohniq making my clothes stronger or something." Nin explains further as he digs deeply into his basket for a firm, but well-coated chip. The mortal then tugs at his clothes and tries to catch the light with them. I nod slightly at the signs of the fourth state of matter, Thurnmourer's signature of craftsmanship.

Leaning back into my chair and its cushions, I think about how Motrtha might be able to add to such protection. Clohniq can weave the most perfect of cloth, Thurnmourer can create the greatest, strongest materials for it. But, Motrtha cannot, she may be a goddess, powerful in her own right... Yet, she is no creator deity.

Well, she can't create without a man.

Maybe it was a way for her to keep an eye on him in the chaos of that place. I can understand it being hard to keep an eye on a mortal in a battlefield filled with gods. Especially with limited access to our true power. None of this answers the glaringly damning, however, why is it so blatant with her power?

Motherhood, so very specifically that.

My eyes narrow to a tight angle and I turn to face my sister who is quick to pick up on my actions. She vanishes around the curve of the bar, heading off into the relatively quiet part of Hot Rod's for the moment. Getting up, I move to give chase to my sibling who is clearly hiding something. The moment I get up and leave, a bark fills the air and then the snatch of plastic with the splattering of food. I keep on going.

Getting to the top of the curve, I shake my head as my sister tries to play innocent.

"Motrtha!" I call loudly in the stride up to her, fighting back against Father's influence to return to my mature state.

"Undwote! How can I help you?" she asks, hiding her face behind the act of polishing a glass.

Failing to beat Him, I jump up onto a stool, land on my upwardly bending knees and reach over, grabbing her, "Why did you give Nin a charm so closely linked to you? Explain!"

She places a finger to her lips and her eyes take on a clutzy makeover. Bringing her in closer to my scowl, I let one of my other callings steadily frost up her clothes. She continues to play this innocently before then smiling smugly. My eyes widen and I push her away, falling to the floor myself and scrambling up back to my feet.

"FATHER!" I roar with clenched fists and chairs and stools fall as I barge up to Him. The festivities stop and many look towards me and the damned annoyance Himself. Father noisily slurps down a cup of raspberry-flavoured ice and He blankly stares back down. Clogging up His straw with my powers, He pulls it away from His lips, the plastic brittling as my powers coat it.

"Eeyup?"

"Where is it!? WHERE IS THE SOUL!? What did you do with him!?" I demand to know through spiking and simmering aggression as I slam away at His chest. One, unfortunately, child hand-powered prod at a time.

"Revived him." He answers as He looks up at one of the televisions playing some old sport from His old realm of creation.

My eyes widen, "YOU WHAT!?"

"Revived him." He repeats with a simple nod.

"Y-You... You lying cunt." I growl as one of my hands flexes for the power of my gun. I want to, I will load and blow it right in His fucking face!

"Am I?" He questions, smirking as He summons a screen to replay a made-up timeline. One where I agree to this and for some reason go out of my way to amuse him with degrading clownery.

"That soul was mine to handle! YOU PROMISED!" I point out, snapping into roar as fingers mimic claws.

"Calm down, Undies. It's just one soul restored to the point he was at before death." Father dismisses, rolling His eyes.

"DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT HE WAS BEFORE HE DIED!? HE WASN'T EVEN HUMAN!" I yell with all I have as the sound of metal and wood clicks in my other hand. The weapon loads without help and I quickly pull it on Him. I pull the trigger and Father spits out the unused red and gold shot at me. Breathing my frustrations out, it rattles on the ground before rolling away.

I watch Him closely as He walks away, my trembling hands loading another shot that only leads to my trigger feeling stiff. I throw my gun to the ground with a snapping crash and heave a heavy growl.

"Don't know, don't care, brought him back as he was and kept his mind the same as it is now." He tells me as He sneaks a thumbs up to a happy and giddy Motrtha. A long snort leaves me as I tremble in fury. Then, something snaps inside and I spontaneously calm down. Left alone in a state of unamused annoyance and seemingly never-ending headshaking.

"Prick." I spit before my powers snatch one of the strong bottles from the bar's rack. The bottle pops open and its circular glass maw comes for mine, the liquored gold running for it so nicely. Grabbing a stool by the leg, I throw it out across the bar, chugging away.