Post by Cartier on Feb 8, 2021 23:28:29 GMT -5
Semektet
As Ra sails across the firmament, lighting the world beneath him as he flies, he grows weary. For hours, the great serpent Apep has been battling him. Rising from the Nile with his jaws, like a gargantuan crocodile. Slithering from behind the peak of Bakhu and constricting around the barque like a massive python. Attacking from the skies with its talons like a dragon.
Every battle wounds Ra further. Every strike, every parry, every dodge. Ra holds the light aloft, but he knows he cannot do so for much longer. Every trip is the same. Every voyage ends with his death. Every rebirth is doomed from the moment he emerges in the Eastern morning and begins his trek across the azure sea of air above the great pyramids below.
Ra’s tears fall from his face, each fertilizing the land below and creating the people who will worship him. He is the sun. He is the one who brings the light and the warmth. He is the most revered of the gods.
However - he could not do any of this alone.
In fact, the goddess Tefnut brings moisture into the world. The moisture that Ra’s tears are wept with. The goddesses Bastet, Isis, Sekhmet, and Ma’at protect Ra as he sails across the sky, battling the Master of Chaos Apep fiercely, and keeping the sun god aloft. And, indeed, it is the very sky herself - the goddess Nut - who swallows Ra whole every evening, allowing him to grow and be reborn from her belly the next morning.
Without the goddesses, there can be no Ra.
Without the divine woman, there can be no sun.
Ra sails the Barque of a Million Years across the sky, weeping and populating the Earth with the assistance of the strong women who protect him and nourish him. The greatest of temples are built for him. The grandest tombs, the pyramids, are shaped in his honor, a stone monument to sunlight. The cults of the women are much smaller. Their stories are much less likely to be told.
The end is near, once again. Ra’s heart beats slower and slower. His breath catches in his lungs. He steers his ship faithfully, even as the fangs of Apep continue to tear at his flesh. The goddesses have to hold him upright as his strength fails, and he turns his barque toward the horizon. There, the mouth of Nut smiles at him, and opens wide.
Ra falls as his barque passes through the lips of Nut, the goddess of the sky. The light goes out, and the world becomes dark, ruled now by the young boy, Khonsu, the naive child of the moon. The women will trick him, taking from him his moonlight until the year becomes five days longer… allowing Nut to have her children.
In Egypt, the women hold the power. The men simply do not know it.
Dear Amelia -
Or is it Heather?
LMAO!
You know, it’s kinda funny to see you dance like a puppet every time I send a bullet your way on Twitter. You a good little monkey whenever I start playing the music for you to move to.
You hate it when I call you Becky, don’t you? But you don’t seem to really even know what your own name is either. Ain’t that a bitch? To not know who you are? I wouldn’t know what that’s like, though… I know exactly who the fuck I am. And, of course, you know goddamn well who I am too.
I only got one name. Cartier. But the titles? Bitch the titles they just keep coming. Even as a kid they called me a Baller. Then they called me a upstart. Then they called me a contender. Then they called me a champion. Here in Revo? They tried to call me a rookie. A newcomer. Then I was a firebrand. I heard about how my mouth was gonna get me in trouble. I bet you heard that too, didn’t you? We both know how confidence can sound like conceit, don’t we?
Difference is, I suppose, that some of us RISE from the ashes of our enemies… and some of us run home and write in our diaries.
Which one sounds like you, Miss Becky? Miss Skipper Doll?
Let’s take a look at how we each spent New Year’s Daze. Since we both remember how Christmas Chaos went, don’t we? Neither one of us won that Horrorcore Gauntlet, so neither one of us got much to brag about did we? Except you got the ONE loss on my record to hang your hat on. Well done.
I already went over it enough times, the whole world knows already that in a one on one with us both fresh, I had you dead to rights. But, wins are wins, losses are losses. I got a L.
But it’s the only one, isn’t it?
Meanwhile, NYD rolls around, and that loss might as well have been five years behind me. Imade the Revo1 Champion look like a green as grass rookie fresh out the academy. How was your night?
Oh. Right.
That had to be a bitch. To take a big ass step backwards, again, on a big ass show.
See, those of us on a upward trajectory, we stumble sometimes when the odds is against us. Like I stumbled against you. But we always catch right back up. A month later, my slip at Christmas Chaos was overcome. I was back on track. I was making the waves you thought you was gonna be making. I bet you thought you had a great idea getting you a partner so you could hide your shortcomings standing on the apron, huh? Ain’t that how you got through those first couple matches? Seemed to me like your girl Portia didn’t trust you to do the heavy lifting, especially against Miles. Also seems like she was right, considering the way you dropped the ball in the finals huh?
Seems like you got a habit of that, don’t it? Like you get just enough momentum behind you to make a couple heads turn, then you run your mouth to the wrong one and get it shut for you. That’s what happened at New Year’s Daze after all, ain’t it? Y’all got past the current and the former Revo1 Champion, so y’all just expected the final to be a cakewalk, didn’t you? Got a little comfortable. Got a little soft. Then you got that ass whipped.
History got a way of repeating itself at these things, you know. It’s why I look to the past and learn the future. It’s why the relics of the ancients have opened my mind to things yet to be. You? You think the past is a window. You think you see “Amelia Hearts” victorious over Cartier at Christmas Chaos, and that it equals the same thing the next time around.
The past is a mirror, Becky. The past is a tool of reflection. And when you reflect upon the past you’re able to reverse it, to create a mirror image. And on Sin, that’s precisely what’s gonna happen to you. A mirror image of Christmas Chaos. A mirror. A reflection. And then a thousand shards of broken glass for you to cut yourself apart with as you race home with the black eye I give you hidden under that nasty ass star makeup with your mascara running down your face in thick black lines so you can tell Harry all about how the big bad wolf blew your fucking house down.
Look in the mirror, Becky, and you’re gonna see me. In the past. In the future. And in every sleepless night you got coming to you after Sin.
You know who had no trouble making Miles take a nap in the middle of the ring, without a partner to demand she get tagged in and do the dirty work for her?
Me.
You know who got this whole company’s attention with a snap of a finger and a knee to the face?
Me.
You know who earned a shot at the top title in this company and then went backstage to sip some Courvoisier and watch you get the shit clotheslined out of you by Drago?
Me.
It was a good night to be a winner, Becky, too bad you ain’t got to experience that.
But don’t worry, girlfriend, you get to experience what it’s like to be in the ring with a real contender, a real champion, come next Sin. Just like the tagline says, the road continues. But we on different paths, ain’t we? You about to take a hard left turn into the pavement, into another 2021 disappointment, while I ride the road to riches and redemption.
I get to erase the one and only negative from my Revo1 career. You get to lose the last bit of relevance you can claim to cling to in this company. Because you won’t get to be the girl that beat the next champ anymore, will you? You’ll just be seen for what you really are. A damn fluke.
It’s in the cards, Becky.
The Heart gets trumped by a Diamond, takes a Club, then needs a Spade to dig herself out. Four for four.
I know Salt Lake ain’t the biggest gambling town out there, but if I was you I’d make sure and call all my loved ones up and make sure they wasn’t wasting their money betting on Amelia Hearts.
After all, you gotta know when to hold them and know when to fold them.
Muck those cards, Becky. And always bet on black.
Muah,
That Bitch
Or is it Heather?
LMAO!
You know, it’s kinda funny to see you dance like a puppet every time I send a bullet your way on Twitter. You a good little monkey whenever I start playing the music for you to move to.
You hate it when I call you Becky, don’t you? But you don’t seem to really even know what your own name is either. Ain’t that a bitch? To not know who you are? I wouldn’t know what that’s like, though… I know exactly who the fuck I am. And, of course, you know goddamn well who I am too.
I only got one name. Cartier. But the titles? Bitch the titles they just keep coming. Even as a kid they called me a Baller. Then they called me a upstart. Then they called me a contender. Then they called me a champion. Here in Revo? They tried to call me a rookie. A newcomer. Then I was a firebrand. I heard about how my mouth was gonna get me in trouble. I bet you heard that too, didn’t you? We both know how confidence can sound like conceit, don’t we?
Difference is, I suppose, that some of us RISE from the ashes of our enemies… and some of us run home and write in our diaries.
Which one sounds like you, Miss Becky? Miss Skipper Doll?
Let’s take a look at how we each spent New Year’s Daze. Since we both remember how Christmas Chaos went, don’t we? Neither one of us won that Horrorcore Gauntlet, so neither one of us got much to brag about did we? Except you got the ONE loss on my record to hang your hat on. Well done.
I already went over it enough times, the whole world knows already that in a one on one with us both fresh, I had you dead to rights. But, wins are wins, losses are losses. I got a L.
But it’s the only one, isn’t it?
Meanwhile, NYD rolls around, and that loss might as well have been five years behind me. Imade the Revo1 Champion look like a green as grass rookie fresh out the academy. How was your night?
Oh. Right.
That had to be a bitch. To take a big ass step backwards, again, on a big ass show.
See, those of us on a upward trajectory, we stumble sometimes when the odds is against us. Like I stumbled against you. But we always catch right back up. A month later, my slip at Christmas Chaos was overcome. I was back on track. I was making the waves you thought you was gonna be making. I bet you thought you had a great idea getting you a partner so you could hide your shortcomings standing on the apron, huh? Ain’t that how you got through those first couple matches? Seemed to me like your girl Portia didn’t trust you to do the heavy lifting, especially against Miles. Also seems like she was right, considering the way you dropped the ball in the finals huh?
Seems like you got a habit of that, don’t it? Like you get just enough momentum behind you to make a couple heads turn, then you run your mouth to the wrong one and get it shut for you. That’s what happened at New Year’s Daze after all, ain’t it? Y’all got past the current and the former Revo1 Champion, so y’all just expected the final to be a cakewalk, didn’t you? Got a little comfortable. Got a little soft. Then you got that ass whipped.
History got a way of repeating itself at these things, you know. It’s why I look to the past and learn the future. It’s why the relics of the ancients have opened my mind to things yet to be. You? You think the past is a window. You think you see “Amelia Hearts” victorious over Cartier at Christmas Chaos, and that it equals the same thing the next time around.
The past is a mirror, Becky. The past is a tool of reflection. And when you reflect upon the past you’re able to reverse it, to create a mirror image. And on Sin, that’s precisely what’s gonna happen to you. A mirror image of Christmas Chaos. A mirror. A reflection. And then a thousand shards of broken glass for you to cut yourself apart with as you race home with the black eye I give you hidden under that nasty ass star makeup with your mascara running down your face in thick black lines so you can tell Harry all about how the big bad wolf blew your fucking house down.
Look in the mirror, Becky, and you’re gonna see me. In the past. In the future. And in every sleepless night you got coming to you after Sin.
You know who had no trouble making Miles take a nap in the middle of the ring, without a partner to demand she get tagged in and do the dirty work for her?
Me.
You know who got this whole company’s attention with a snap of a finger and a knee to the face?
Me.
You know who earned a shot at the top title in this company and then went backstage to sip some Courvoisier and watch you get the shit clotheslined out of you by Drago?
Me.
It was a good night to be a winner, Becky, too bad you ain’t got to experience that.
But don’t worry, girlfriend, you get to experience what it’s like to be in the ring with a real contender, a real champion, come next Sin. Just like the tagline says, the road continues. But we on different paths, ain’t we? You about to take a hard left turn into the pavement, into another 2021 disappointment, while I ride the road to riches and redemption.
I get to erase the one and only negative from my Revo1 career. You get to lose the last bit of relevance you can claim to cling to in this company. Because you won’t get to be the girl that beat the next champ anymore, will you? You’ll just be seen for what you really are. A damn fluke.
It’s in the cards, Becky.
The Heart gets trumped by a Diamond, takes a Club, then needs a Spade to dig herself out. Four for four.
I know Salt Lake ain’t the biggest gambling town out there, but if I was you I’d make sure and call all my loved ones up and make sure they wasn’t wasting their money betting on Amelia Hearts.
After all, you gotta know when to hold them and know when to fold them.
Muck those cards, Becky. And always bet on black.
Muah,
That Bitch
Madjet
Within the belly of the sky, the god of the sun, Ra, is rejuvenated. Every night for one million years, he travelled through her, using her energy to heal. Finding solace and rebirth within the womb of the goddess. His umbilical cord would fall away, creating a new Apep, and his lungs would fill with fresh air and his body with fresh blood. Ra was overcome with youth.
One final night, though, Ra found that he was too weak. He had been tricked by the goddesses. Bastet, using her night vision as the eye of the moon, had defeated Apep without the help of the sun. Isis, who had been taking advantage of her closeness to Ra, had collected his tears as he wept in pain. She had used them to create a snake of her own and she snuck it into the sanctuary of Nut when Ra entered her for protection.
The snake bit Ra, and he was too old, too weak, to overcome it. He could not fight off the will of Isis any longer, and soon she had searched through him and found his true, secret name. The source of his power.
When she whispered the secret name, Isis took the power from Ra. She pulled the disc from his head and set it upon her own, and then she healed his old body so that he could be the first to feel the warmth of the new sun. The feminine sun.
When Isis and Ra rode the Barque of Millions of Years out of Nut, and the golden rays of light once again poured from the sky like honey from an urn, it was Isis who carried the disc and pulled it from the East until settling once more within the body of Nut, the goddess of the sky, viewing the children of men through Bastet, the eye of the moon.
The moon. The sun. The sky. The old kingdoms were ruled by the women of Heaven.
The sun was reborn. The Tree of Life was fulfilled, and Ra, once the most revered of all the gods, the most powerful of all men, died an old man telling stories to others about his times long ago, riding across the sky.
And nobody believed him.