![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
tekia.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tamingthemuseTitle: In The Middle of It
Fandom: Original
Prompt: No One Dare Disturb the Sound of Silence
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: Jacky finally sees the power of a living god in action.
The massive statue had stood for generations, Jacky had been told. It had been painted, lovingly over the years, in bright oranges, peaches, yellows and reds and blues. It had been the people’s pride, he learned.
Mata’ka’ala didn’t care about that. He cared that his people, Jacky, were being threatened. Jacky watched with wide eyes, his mouth dry and his stomach knotted as the magic of the god king flooded the dark temple, making small flames flutter, deep shadows turning into living nightmares in the corners of the room. The people still in the temple, too frightened or stupid to leave, were screaming in fear and horror as the black fog rolled around Mata’ka’ala and coated the ground, small bursts of lighting arching from him to the fog, like so much thunderclouds.
The god that was inside Mata’ka’ala was Teshub, the god of thunder and lighting. A king of gods, just the same as Jupiter and Zeus. Historians had long concluded that the later gods had been fashioned after Teshub, and, watching the god king at work, Jacky had to wonder how Greece’s and Rome’s gods had a chance to compare. He licked his dry lips and hugged a pillar, his own god a steady thrum in his blood.
The men that had challenged Mata’ka’ala had long ago dropped their swords in the face of the god’s fury, but their own living god stood erect. He didn’t flinch when Mata’ka’ala turned his black eyes on him, merely raising his chin up a notch, his lips a thin, hard line. Mata’ka’ala fisted one hand around the short sword always at his hip, but made no move to pull it from its scabbard.
Jacky was actually startled at the amount of control Mata’ka’ala had over the god’s rage. He couldn’t even stay awake when his god was throwing around his weight, and here was Mata’ka’ala, boiling with rage, and still coolly in control. He could almost hate the man.
The floor was shaking with each strike of the tiny bolts of lighting, and Jacky clutched tighter to the pillar. His face was pressed hard to the stone, and the ripples carved into it bit into his cheek, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off Mata’ka’ala.
He never got to see himself while Telepinu was in control, and this was the first time he had been awake for Teshub to show himself. It was nothing short of a Hollywood production, the fog, lighting, trembling of the floor. The screams of the people as they realized that the giant statue of their god king was cracking under the pressure of Teshub’s magic.
Jacky pressed himself closer to the pillar and watched as a crack the size of his fist began bisecting the statue’s head, down between the eyes, to the left of the nose, and around the mouth. Half the head fell with a crash that threw small chunks of marble everywhere. Jacky ducked his head, feeling the debris collide with his skin, embed in his hair.
Then there was silence as the people realized that their main object of worship was being desecrated and the god king hadn’t come down to smite the offender. It was as if the room took a breath and no one disturb the sound of silence as they waited.
Jacky’s eyes flicked from the broken statue, to Mata’ka’ala, to the living god that still stood tall in spite of Mata’ka’ala’s, no, Teshub’s anger. Then, even from this distance, Jacky saw a wicked smile curve Mata’ka’ala’s lips, and the lighting resumed, tenfold. He arched from his fists and leaped from fog cloud to fog cloud until it reached the statue and twined up the legs, up the torso and all around it, breaking off chunks where it landed until, with a deafening roar, the statue came down.
Jacky ducked behind the pillar as dust and rocks flew through the air, and finally the people in the temple got the hell out of Dodge. He coughed into his elbow, his eyes narrowed against the dust and found himself alone save for the other two living gods.
It was good, he distantly thought, that all the humans had left finally.
This was going to be a battle between gods, and humans really shouldn’t be in the middle of it.
Fandom: Original
Prompt: No One Dare Disturb the Sound of Silence
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: Jacky finally sees the power of a living god in action.
The massive statue had stood for generations, Jacky had been told. It had been painted, lovingly over the years, in bright oranges, peaches, yellows and reds and blues. It had been the people’s pride, he learned.
Mata’ka’ala didn’t care about that. He cared that his people, Jacky, were being threatened. Jacky watched with wide eyes, his mouth dry and his stomach knotted as the magic of the god king flooded the dark temple, making small flames flutter, deep shadows turning into living nightmares in the corners of the room. The people still in the temple, too frightened or stupid to leave, were screaming in fear and horror as the black fog rolled around Mata’ka’ala and coated the ground, small bursts of lighting arching from him to the fog, like so much thunderclouds.
The god that was inside Mata’ka’ala was Teshub, the god of thunder and lighting. A king of gods, just the same as Jupiter and Zeus. Historians had long concluded that the later gods had been fashioned after Teshub, and, watching the god king at work, Jacky had to wonder how Greece’s and Rome’s gods had a chance to compare. He licked his dry lips and hugged a pillar, his own god a steady thrum in his blood.
The men that had challenged Mata’ka’ala had long ago dropped their swords in the face of the god’s fury, but their own living god stood erect. He didn’t flinch when Mata’ka’ala turned his black eyes on him, merely raising his chin up a notch, his lips a thin, hard line. Mata’ka’ala fisted one hand around the short sword always at his hip, but made no move to pull it from its scabbard.
Jacky was actually startled at the amount of control Mata’ka’ala had over the god’s rage. He couldn’t even stay awake when his god was throwing around his weight, and here was Mata’ka’ala, boiling with rage, and still coolly in control. He could almost hate the man.
The floor was shaking with each strike of the tiny bolts of lighting, and Jacky clutched tighter to the pillar. His face was pressed hard to the stone, and the ripples carved into it bit into his cheek, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off Mata’ka’ala.
He never got to see himself while Telepinu was in control, and this was the first time he had been awake for Teshub to show himself. It was nothing short of a Hollywood production, the fog, lighting, trembling of the floor. The screams of the people as they realized that the giant statue of their god king was cracking under the pressure of Teshub’s magic.
Jacky pressed himself closer to the pillar and watched as a crack the size of his fist began bisecting the statue’s head, down between the eyes, to the left of the nose, and around the mouth. Half the head fell with a crash that threw small chunks of marble everywhere. Jacky ducked his head, feeling the debris collide with his skin, embed in his hair.
Then there was silence as the people realized that their main object of worship was being desecrated and the god king hadn’t come down to smite the offender. It was as if the room took a breath and no one disturb the sound of silence as they waited.
Jacky’s eyes flicked from the broken statue, to Mata’ka’ala, to the living god that still stood tall in spite of Mata’ka’ala’s, no, Teshub’s anger. Then, even from this distance, Jacky saw a wicked smile curve Mata’ka’ala’s lips, and the lighting resumed, tenfold. He arched from his fists and leaped from fog cloud to fog cloud until it reached the statue and twined up the legs, up the torso and all around it, breaking off chunks where it landed until, with a deafening roar, the statue came down.
Jacky ducked behind the pillar as dust and rocks flew through the air, and finally the people in the temple got the hell out of Dodge. He coughed into his elbow, his eyes narrowed against the dust and found himself alone save for the other two living gods.
It was good, he distantly thought, that all the humans had left finally.
This was going to be a battle between gods, and humans really shouldn’t be in the middle of it.
