“Nah, they’re all people-sized,” Yūmoa replied dryly as they walked. “And, y’know, maybe you’ll learn powers. I’ve never had an a— I’ve never had my associates try.”
She gritted her teeth, locking her jaw in response to the sudden truth butting to show itself. She didn’t want her first associate to figure out she was just as lame as all the gods thought she was.
Yūmoa opened the double doors, busting in the giant alabaster building like she owned the place. The loud noise echoed throughout the cleansed hall, causing all heads to turn.
There was a god for just about everything, sitting in chairs lining a massive marble table. Everything looked made out of the exact same material, the white rock stretching up the walls as well. At the head of the table sat the God of Gods… Shujin.
As Yūmoa walked in, she let finger guns fly to certain gods she knew, their faces contorting into an uncomfortable and embarrassed look. She made her way to the only empty seat beside Oshieru, leaving room for It sit on the same chair. Many gods had at least one associate with them, so she didn’t look too out of place.
As they took their seats, Shujin resumed council, conversing with the rest. But Yūmoa didn’t listen. She just kicked her feet on the chair like a little child.
It liked sitting so close to Yūmoa. She smelled nice, was funny as shit Well, duh, she was literally the goddess of funny and gave off a wonderful energy. And there was the whole 'saving It from a eternity of fire and shit like that.' But that was just a given.
"I expected them to look a lot more dramatic," he mumbled to her, low enough so no one else could hear him. "Like, Dis Pater was all impressive with his 8 foot tall staff and black cloak and shit. Oshieru was all pretty with his sword and scribe block that he was carrying around for some reason. Why does the literal leader of the gods look like some spazz they found on the street? All wide-eyed with that scraggly ass beard. I thought everyone was as good-looking as you." Did he let that slip out? Yeah. Did he feel stupid? Fuck yeah.
Yūmoa gave him a grin. As the sub god of charm, she liked it when people just let compliments fly.
“Thanks,” she mumbled. “And yeah, many gods just look… so unimpressive.”
Her eyes flitted to Shujin, giving off a mischievous twinkle.
“He kinda just looks like an old man on some kinda drug,” she whispered, only loud enough for It to hear. “And don’t even get me started with the goddess of nature.”
She nodded her head to a druid-looking woman, with plants intertwined with her auburn hair.
“Hippy-lookin’ ass,” she whispered, bumping softly into It’s shoulder with her own. “But, don’t underestimate ‘em. Shujin can dropkick you to next year.”
"Y'know, beefing with the strongest god ever wasn't on my to-do list, but I'll keep it in mind." So she was receptive to compliments. Good. That means there was one less thing he needed to censer himself from. "I don't like they way they look at each other. Like they're all expecting one to pull out a sword and start stabbing people. Hell, even the married couples are giving each other that look."
It scooted the slightest bit closer to Yūmoa, but it wasn't because he was trying to get more intimate. His right asscheek was directly on the edge of the seat and since the chair was made of stone, it hurt like a bitch. Why were these seats so damn big? Not that It was complaining, but it just seemed unnecessary.
A throat was cleared on the other side of the two, were a god that looked more like a bear than a person sat. His arms were heavily muscled and hella defined, veins popping like they lacked circulation. His beard was close-shaven and rugged, like it was cut with a spear instead of a knife.
"Ya firs' associate, eh?" the man grunted, the positive statement sounding mean and sarcastic coming from his lips. Ah, It finally realized who it was. Honos, the god of was and conflict. "Good on ya. It was about time, anyways."
“Cool it, Honos,” Yūmoa spat, however her words were everything but menacing. Her stupid good nature made her lack the intimidating quality most of the time, and she cursed herself for it. But, she could be scary when she wanted… sometimes.
“And nah, this isn’t mah firs’ associate,” she said, mimiking his accent slightly. “I’ve had plenty, thank you.”
Part of her wasn’t wrong. She had previously had an associate… somewhat. But she didn’t talk about them anymore. No one talked about that anymore.
She propped her elbow up on It’s shoulder, which didn’t really work since he was taller, but it had the same effect she hoped for.
“It, this is Honos. You probably know ‘em,” she said. “Honos, this is Itazura.”
Yūmoa only used his associate name when she introduced them— that was the formal way of doing things.
"Hey." It gave the massive God a small wave, feeling insignificant in a way that Yūmoa didn't make him feel. She was impressive and could kick his ass if he crossed her, but made him feel like a friend instead of an inferior being. Honos, however, looked down at him like a human would at an ant. He didn't even answer his greeting, just returned to the argument he was having with a grandma-looking lady.
"Who the fuck gave the boar a voice box?" It whispered quietly, leaning in close to make sure that Honos didn't hear him. Getting crushed on the first day didn't sound like a good idea to him.
Yūmoa chuckled quietly. “Dang, I like you. I made the right choice resurrecting you, kid.”
She glanced over at It, holding up a hand dismissively. “And Honos? Yeah he seems like he doesn’t give a single damn. It’s just how he is. Honestly, he’s kinda nice once you get to know him.”
Her eyes wandered back up to him and she lowered her voice. “He’s kinda like a big teddy bear that could technically snap your neck if he wanted to.”
Suddenly, the booming voice of Shujin fell over the room.
“—and may we celebrate the bringing of new associates this day,” he said elegantly. “Do any of you have any associates that have yet to be introduced?”
Multiple gods and goddesses took turns reading off a long list of new souls acquitted to their armada. Yūmoa gulped, nervous but happy when Shujin looked her way.
“I’d like to introduce Itazura,” she said joyfully, standing up on the chair and gesturing down at the boy. “As a human, Aeneas. Less formally, It.”
Again, that small, "Hey," and the wave. Everyone's eyes were turned to him and absolutely none of them looked even someone interested. Most looked disgusted, some looked disturbed, and the goddess of love, Ài, gave him a look that told him to stay the fuck away from that or he might end up falling for her. But that look was literally on her face at all times, so he didn't feel as flattered as he could've.
It let out a loud sigh as Shujin moved on to the next deity and Yūmoa sat back down. His palms were sweaty, his breathing was surprisingly sharp, and his foot was tapping rapidly.
"I do not like anyone at this fucking table," he mumbled to the goddess, looking incredibly nervous. "They all look like people from my fever dreams."
“At least glad to know you dream about me,” she said with a wink. “But some of them are okay.”
She nudged her head toward a happy-looking male, just a few seats away on the other side. He looked about her age and waved frantically as she looked over.
“He’s the God of Happiness, Lyn. Technically, we’re sub-gods to one another, so we’ve always been pretty tight.” Yūmoa waved back with a smile as she explained. “I’m also pretty tight with the Goddess of Lust, but no one knows if her friendship is ever really real, y’know.”
Her eyes wandered around the table, looking for anyone else who would possibly be nice.
“And, heh, it’s not that they don’t like you,” she said, tugging at the collar of her baggy tunic. “They don’t really like me.”
Or the last associate I brought in, she thought to herself.
“So don’t take it personally,” Yūmoa continued, leaning back in the uncomfortable chair. “That’s my job.”
"Can I have a conversation with the carpentry god about how fucking stupid these chairs are instead?" It's mind backtracked to when she called him "kid" as he continued to complain about the chairs. Tragic, to say the least. Imagine being called "Son" by the hottest girl you've ever seen. even if she was older than fucking dirt, she looked It's age. This was stupidly unfair. "Who makes something a person is meant to sit on out of a fucking rock? No cushions, either? What kinda fuckshit is that? I've been up here for, like, 20 minutes and already don't like it."
“You’re in a room filled with multiple gods of calamity and you’re worried about not being able to feel your ass,” Yūmoa laughed. “You gotta long way to go, hun.”
She nudged his side with her elbow as she spoke.
“But I don’t blame you,” she said. “The only thing I’m thinking about is how to steal offerings from Oshieru’s shrine without him noticing.”
“What?” Oshieru snapped, his eyes glaring down at her.
“Nothing,” she replied nonchalantly, continuing to talk to It.
“But I also really can’t wait until this stupid council is over,” she admitted. “I just find it weird they had Oshieru bring me. They never want me here.”
As if to answer her question, Shujin cleared his throat.
“Yūmoa. You may be wondering why we called you here,” he said.
“Yessir,” she replied, keeping herself leaned back disrespectfully.
“We have a gift for you,” he replied, almost as if the words hurt him. “As a reward for your associate.”
Yūmoa cocked her head. “Oh really?”
Shujin raised his eyebrows, letting out a deep sigh. “We built you a shrine next to Oshieru’s.”
Oshieru looked pissed, but Yūmoa’s face lit up like the sun.
"Hm." What the fuck else was he supposed to respond with? It didn't ever worship any gods, so a shrine made in someone's honor didn't make him blink. With the way it made Yūmoa smile, though, it must've been a pretty big deal.
"Now, it won't be nearly as large as Oshieru's," that brought a slightly smug look back on the god's face, "and will be made of silver instead of gold. Perhaps you will garner a few more followers from it being so near to a major monument."
It frowned. No one except for a few gods seemed to like Yūmoa, not even the God of Gods. Why? He could see her coming off as a bit grating, but other than that she seemed perfectly fine. Stayed in her little corner of the world and didn't make waves.
Yūmoa latched onto It’s shoulders and shook him somewhat violently in her excitement.
“That is amazing!” she said, breathing the statement more than actually saying it. Her wide eyes turned to It, holding a youthful twinkle. She looked like a kid when their mother told them they could buy a lute.
“You know what this means?” she asked, however continued on, answering her own question. “We are rich!”
“Not quite,” Shujin replied under his breath, but Yūmoa was way too happy to possibly care.
“Whose idea was it?” Oshieru asked the major god, a tinge of hate lacing his words.
“The entirety of the council,” Shujin answered, clearly exasperated. “Out of pity.”
It almost sounded like Shujin meant pity for Oshieru, who had had to put up with Yūmoa for the past… millennia. Either way, it didn’t matter to the Humor Goddess.
She just looked insanely happy, and a slight bit jumpy.
“When can I see it? Y’know, move in?” she asked, grinning at Shujin. The god rubbed his temples with long, spindly hands, giving a long exhale.
