I am so clever. I just thought you should know that. I'm also rather pleased that I managed to finish this, but...I kind of had to. It demanded done-ness. Hehehehe.

Ray belongs to Seirei Ishtar, but if you've read pretty much anything else by me you'll know that. Why, Ray? I like Blake more than you. Of course, you're cool, too, but...dude, Blake.

--

"Hey, 'Siris! Look what I have here." Ray waved a handful of papers at the younger god, who was sprawled out on the couch staring at the blank TV with an equally empty expression. He glanced over, tempted to be curious, but a massive hangover killed that desire entirely.

"Congratulations," Osiris drawled, pushing himself into a sitting position. His head throbbed painfully, once again giving him cause to hope that the painkillers would kick in soon. "You found the computer paper. I am so proud of you."

"I'd be annoyed at the constant disrespect, but you're in pain so I'm content." He sat down at the opposite end of the couch, shuffling through the papers until he had reached a certain point. "It's supposed to be a list of the questions your judges asked, and I was curious..."

Internally, the younger of the two started swearing. This had to be karmic revenge of some sort, but for what? Nothing he did to deserve such punishment came to mind immediately, but on the other hand, there was always the chance that it was an unprovoked attack and all the bad karma would be directed at Ray. Such an opportunity would be difficult to pass up.

Besides, escaping him with a pounding headache and an inability to even stagger in a straight line would be difficult.

"I hate you," he grumbled, which only earned a cruel smirk.

"I thought so." Ray consulted the paper briefly, then looked up again. "Tell me, 'Siris, have you ever done wrong?"

"Of course not," Osiris replied, not even bothering to think about the question. He remembered the way it went, way back in the good 'ol days--the first few judges would ask their questions, and he would ponder how he would fare if asked to answer them, and then he would zone out because listening to the same answers to the same questions day after day did little more than make him wish he had alcohol. Or, as an alternative, a large rock to smash against his head until sweet oblivion greeted him. "Outside of cheating on my wife for years, being gay, ah...eating the rest of your pizza last week..."

He was met with silence as Ray debated on whether or not to kill him now or torture him with the questions and then kill him. He missed that pizza. And...apparently, Rayce had been right about not taking it, but that didn't matter. The nymph was used to large amounts of physical harm, right? "Bitch...have you committed violent robbery?"

"Not that I'm aware of. Now, what would you do if I asked you that question?" Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad? But the elder god always had been proud of his various bloody escapades.

"I would chuckle evilly and then ignore you, as I plan on doing now. Have you stolen?"

Osiris shrugged, looking faintly thoughtful. "Sure. Stole hearts, stole booze, and...well, I guess those are the important things."

"You've got to live such a dull life," Ray said with a grimace. "Where's the fun in not killing and stealing and generally making a nuisance of yourself?"

"I prefer doling out the pain in other methods. Like torturing the snoopy neighbour. I thoroughly enjoy hearing her shriek when she looks over the hedges and sees Orion and I doing things."

"Like each other...next question, as this is getting creepy!" He looked at the paper again, fully prepared to ask what came next, but the question contained a subject that he'd rather not discuss with Osiris. The god could be rather touchy when it came to the number of people he had killed, and the last thing Ray needed was the man's boyfriend coming after him with a polearm. It couldn't do much anymore, but it was really irritating. "Ah...have you stolen offerings?"

Both of them knew the answer already, and his great-grandson grinned. "Like you even need to ask me. I still have a bunch of your crap somewhere at home, and I'm pretty sure you can say the same."

"Why would I ever steal from you? It's a temper tantrum waiting to happen," he said grumpily, still not entirely sure why he had been sentenced to the life of a mortal because of that damn rock. It couldn't have been that important, but...some people would beg to differ, and then make him live among the peasantry. Bitch. "Have you pilfered? ...Are all these questions about the same thing?"

"I actually don't know," Osiris mused, looking rather sheepish. "The prospect of listening to the same thing over and over for the rest of eternity never pleased me, so I usually stopped listening. I guess that would be yes, then?"

"Right...good god. Skipping this one, 'cause it's the same as all the others...have you ever lied?"

"No, Isis, I really am faithful to you, even if I'm oversexed without willingly consummating our marriage..." The god trailed off, blanching. "The fact that she believed me for so long is really kind of pathetic." He arched an eyebrow when Ray started laughing. "What?"

"You were raped by a doe-eyed woman who pouted too much and...poisoned me. Fucking Isis. Did it ever occur to you that she was incredibly two-faced? I mean, really. She creates an animal that I have no control over, makes me give up things I'd rather keep to myself, and...has sex with you when you're mostly dead..."

"It's either that or bipolar," Osiris agreed, cutting Ray off before he could get any further. There would be need for revenge if he decided to bring up the fact that Nepthys also decided to take advantage of him, and he was pretty sure that he was officially capable of wrathfulness.

He was lucky in that the other god appeared to pick up on this fact; it seemed he didn't want a repeat of the pizza-stealing incident, because that would be terrible. "Have you ever stolen milk from the mouths of children?" It wasn't asked because Ray really wanted to know. He just wanted to see Osiris choke on the question like...like that! Oh, he was so reliable.

"Yes," he finally replied, inhaling sharply. "Yes. All the time. I'd go out into the streets and punch children in the gut just so I could take that god damned milk back."

Ray stared at him blankly for the longest time before turning an odd shade of red. It was so hard to keep from laughing, and he wasn't about to give Osiris that satisfaction. "And they called you a fair and just king, you baby puncher...oh, fuck. I'm...I'm going to walk off now."

"Like hell," the younger of the two responded, leaning in to snatch the papers away. "Do you really think I'm going to endure this and not return the favor? For example, bringing your name forward to be praised excessively...causing pain...killing...oppressing the members of your family...hey, I think the gods looked at you when making this list!"

"Don't flatter me," Ray said dryly as he slowly backing away from his great-grandson. Sometimes, that was the only thing to do...not that it ever worked. "And you're not supposed to retaliate. You're supposed to lay on the couch griping about how unfair--hey. Hey. Don't grin like that, it's horrifying."

"The magical thing about being a god is the rather brisk recovery rate," Osiris said, the 'horrifying' grin widening. "And, really, I can shoulder pain when it brings you misery. Have you ever stolen property from old people? Or do what the gods decree to be an abomination? You probably stole milk from children, too!"

It was about then that Ray retreated in the opposite direction amidst papers being thrown at his head. It was another draw--apparently, hungover!Osiris wasn't quite as defenseless as one would think. He was also really, really annoying; note to self: beat Rayce up later (again) for transmitting that one personality defect.

Actually, that sounded like an excellent way to pass a couple of minutes. One and a half to track the nymph down, and thirty seconds to knock him out and do a victory dance. And, after that, he could poke at Orion for a bit to get back at his impudent relative. Things were looking better by the second.