#the ‘focus’ characters: two of the cat-like unnamed reoccuring background characters

[controversial-bird]

Burdensome Divinity

A PCFC fic for the background characters

A paper-sheet masked god shook the ground in their wrath, whipping the air into a frenzy as they spoke and pushed back against the more minor divinities they surrounded themselves with.

Whatever caused their ire and wrought madness that was splintering the earth and crystalizing it into sharp points, it was absolutely incomprehensible.

Sitting in the shade of an azalea tree, the hardwood-hearted flora remained unshaken by the tantrums of the gods.

Taking shelter in that unmoving shade while also watching the raging divine-brought disaster that would last a single day before being undone was a ‘cat’ and a ‘cat’.

Hardly cats sometimes, maybe one a cat and the other a non-cat, and often not the only cats present. But in this shade and at this time, it was just these two that were subjected to bearing witness to the gods once more.

Observing from a distance the flurry of activity as blue-haired goddesses and armor-wearing gods circled within the eye of the storm. Mice and beasts running about below in the most high stakes game of “the floor is disintegrating underneath us” while their divine counterparts leapt through the air on moving would-be projectiles.

It was a lot. The gods were a lot. Everything they did was a lot.

The platinum-blonde cat blithely asked “Does becoming a god seem worth it at all? So much power, and all of it to just drag everyone into their fits.”

The purplish cat paused before speaking, amethyst in paw gone untapped into yet, “No. I wouldn’t even accept it if it were offered to me, I don’t care for godhood.”

She hummed in response; a nonverbal acknowledgment, a noise of agreement.

(Godhood would be a lot of responsibility, have a lot of drawbacks with few to no returns… it’d be absolutely tiring.)

Two cats in the background in companionable silence. Listening to whatever was recorded on a purple crystal shard, letting attention drift away from the a common event of deific hostility to a fallen azalea bloom.

(All they had to do was be present, to be nearby to see miracles, and fill the emptiness.)

Neither were gods in this world; both held power over nothing and no one, and there was no corner of their beings that wished to change that.

The long and intense life of a god was not a boon; more like an over-romanticized burden whose weight was underestimated. Or perhaps it was a ridiculous thing for people to fight so hard to attain when it would do nothing but bring new and harder problems with more demanding solutions.

(Perhaps the stars would never know their names, acknowledge them in their distance from the light of gods, but there was peace to be found in silence when that silence was shared by many.)