Dear God this is bad, the librarian thought and groaned at the same time, resisting the urge to slam his forehead against the table. His feather-pen tip (yes I know it’s a quill after I did the research, but at the time I didn’t and someone else might not know too) barely touched the still blank parchment page of a thick tome (as in the parchment continues to be blank, empty of words, instead of being stilled in time or submerged in distilled water or something).

Right now Desmond Revulius Cox wished he had sat down and done this soul-sucking work a month ago as he had resolved to do, unfortunately unsuccessfully. He delayed, figuring that it will only take, like, half a day at most, so why waste the best days of his vacation? If only Desmond actually listened to that nagging voice in his head. In that case, he would not be sitting here right now, with this headache, in the dark of dimly-lit candle lights, at a table with nothing more but a tome to write in and a few spare candles. Instead, he would be getting a tan, enjoying the sight of hot girls in bikinis on one of the beautiful beaches on the planet “what’s-its-name” that Pluto governed. But enough pointless regrets.

The reason for delaying this work is fairly obvious. As if writing any type of registry is not annoying and boring enough, but a book where you had to describe others honestly, their personalities and deeds, especially if they are from a particular family full of arrogant, egotistical, spiteful, bitchy, all-powerful gods…

Crap! I know they can’t read my mind, Desmond thought. But sometimes that creeping thought sinks in that you can’t fully make disappear – what if they can? Like when I’m talking with Pluto while thinking about how she has the most perfect body with voluptuous, perky D-cups, a narrow waist, and nipples! Oh, those nipples that press through her skin-tight pink cotton shirt because she refuses to acknowledge the existence of bras. I mean - WHAT THE HELL!? I bet even when I’m a hundred and seventy-five years old I’ll still get an erection looking at her!

So, yeah, if I’m thinking these thoughts and it turns out that for some unnatural or natural reason Pluto can indeed hear my thoughts, would she be offended? Would it count as a compliment? I mean the fact that I want to ravage her right there in the sand as the waves crash down on our naked bodies- no, no, no, no, no! Don’t think that! Don’t think that! Shit! Grandmas, mold, toilet, work- Shit! What if she heard that? I mean she’s not even here, but she is a God, so she wouldn’t have to be… But come on! With a body like that who needs personality, am I right? … Anybody? Right, I’m having a mental conversation with myself again, aren’t I? Nobody can hear or read anybody’s thoughts, calm down man! … Right! … Work!

Ok. Writing. The oldest daughter of Jupiter, Titania. You’d think with a name like that her bosom would be at the very least more than average sized. But instead, Titania is a flat-chested brat. I mean even that goth-teen Juliana has bigger tits than her! Crap, I actually wrote that… Hm, for how durable this parchment is supposed to be it sure does burn easily. Maybe it’s the candles? They’re not providing any decent light, so they have to be good for something, right?

Desmond paused due to the annoying sobbing sounds coming from Block B, about fifteen bookshelves away. Any noise can be heard with little effort when you’re used to the deathly silence. Desmond sighed, stood up and walked towards the source of the noise. He already knew who was responsible – the useless blue-haired girl that Juliana brought here a couple years back. You’d think she’d be used to her situation by now. Little did Desmond know that the blue haired girl was indeed used to her situation by now, however as Desmond himself would say – “the waterworks still break through from time to time”. And trust me, he did indeed say that at least once or twice – back in his prime Desmond was quite adept at making girls cry.

As he walked Desmond reminisced about that time he slept with a beautiful woman (who was also a struggling single mother) and then broke off all contact with her because he was still bitter about the time when she broke his heart when they were both teenagers (It was completely Desmond’s fault but he didn’t remember it that way). She got what she deserved, though I wonder what happened to her later.

By the time Desmond reached the little blue-haired twerp the crying had stopped. Long, deep blue hair, ice blue dress. The little girl was sitting on the cold, stone floor, surrounded by piles of books that she either already read or will have read before the day was over. A single yellow candle was her source of light, the same dim light that Desmond was working with.

“The origins of arguments against the power of prayer” is it? The number of people that ever bothered to even try reading that one probably doesn’t even reach two dozen. And yet look at her. Such concentration… Does she not even notice that I’m here? The girls still red eyes diligently examined every word at speeds that by now surpassed even Desmond’s. It was slightly unnerving.

“REBECCA!” Desmond shouted with all his might to announce his presence. The startled girl dropped the heavy book out of her little hands and turned her head to the source of the noise. This time Desmond wasn’t trying to be a complete ass, however, he got used to the fact that anything less wouldn’t distract Rebecca from her God-given task.

“No crying!” Desmond said, “If you damage another book I’ll have you write ten copies this time instead of five.”

Having said that Desmond turned around and walked away. He instantly regretted warning Rebecca. It was probably the anger speaking because she distracted him from an important job he finally gathered the resolve to do. Desmond couldn’t afford any distractions right now. Though Desmond would actually be very satisfied if Rebecca did nothing but make copies of the books here. Her handwriting was so beautiful it was unbelievable she was illiterate when she was first brought here. What was Juliana even thinking? Well, that was a question that no one was able to answer yet. Well, to be more precise nobody bothered to try and answer that question. Desmond mentally patted himself on the back for that little moment of self-proclaimed wisdom.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t a good idea to get in the way of even the pettiest of gods machinations, even if it was such a minor God as Juliana. So, Desmond had to refrain from actively getting in the way of Rebecca’s reading and turned to convoluted punishments instead. Like that one time, he ordered Rebecca to dust all the bookshelves in Block D because she once fell asleep on top of one of the books. Desmond tried to hold back the laughter while the four feet tall girl struggled with bookshelves fifty times taller than her. Alas, that didn’t last - once Rebecca mastered the art of flying it became quite a boring sight.

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Desmond almost reached his desk with the ominous tome open, as he left it. Desmond felt as if every time he looked at that book a small part of him died. Oh, what I wouldn’t do if this work could just do itself. Like, I could still physically do the writing, but at least if I could detach myself mentally from it and look through “Cosmic Darlings” magazine or something. Or at least just sleep. He was pretty sure that Aurora had that ability, however, it would be next to impossible to confirm or deny that assumption.

Desmond more than once considered putting Rebecca to the task, however, she was annoyingly methodical about the order in which she read the books and thus she was, give or take, three years away from reaching the first book that would be helpful in updating the current list of gods. And some information cannot even be found here, which is partially the whole point of why Desmond specifically has to do it.

Desmond slumped into the chair and sighed once more. I could half-ass it. I mean it’s not like anybody actually cares or will read- oh… There was one person who would indeed care very much if somebody did a half-assed job about anything concerning his daughters – Jupiter. Was there ever a more self-centered God in all of history? Perhaps. But that won’t matter when he’s stretching my insides from here to Orion’s Belt.

As we all know too much stress is very bad for one’s health, so Desmond decided to read some erotic fiction he’s been meaning to finish. He needed to know how the story ends and it might just give him the inspiration needed to finish his own writing.

An hour later Desmond put the fiction down as a single tear rolled down his wrinkled cheek. In the end, she was never able to escape the monster’s belly. Oh, what cruel fate to be submitted to a life-long torture due to your own hubris.

Now, a bit more relaxed, Desmond could go back to writing. Right. For a change of pace, let’s go with another sister. Aurora, the self-proclaimed Queen Of Nightmares, officially – goddess of dreams. Her self-bestowed title is actually quite fitting since she has one of the nastier personalities of the seven sisters. Abusing the malleable aspect of dreams it provides her with near-limitless possibilities for torture, endlessly repeatable as long as the mind does not break. Sometimes even after that - when the once pure and noble victim is reduced to nothing more but mumbling, drooling lump of meat unable to think of anything but- Wait, what was I writing about again?

Anyway, Aurora has seven start systems under her jurisdiction. I pity whoever lives in her newest acquisition. Her first star system was actually a triple star system, with only one habitable planet to her name. This was due- Oh, fuck it – I’m even boring myself. She tortures people and animals for fun, okay? Evil to the core, with no redeeming qualities. If she saw a puppy she would probably put it to sleep and induce it with nightmares where people keep hitting this puppy during its birthday! She has a nice body, though.

Desmond sighed as he watched another torn out parchment burn. Okay, so I have like, what? Titania, oldest, Pluto – second oldest, Juliana – youngest and Aurora the second youngest. Four down, three to go. So, next one. Daisy Alexandra Rose. Alas, she is nothing like a flower. Being a goddess of combat didn’t help, but that wasn’t the main issue. Desmond wasn’t sure if he could even describe her as a lady. Definitely, the odd one in the family, and that’s saying something considering the other gems Jupiter produced. Her birth alone was a scandal that greatly damaged Pluto’s relationship with her father. And while Pluto’s and Daisy’s relationship was always strained it went past the breaking point when Daisy seduced one of her younger sisters. Which in turn eventually led to Pluto leaving the family. Though over a couple hundred years she mended her relationship with both her father and siblings and returned to the family.

“Yo!” Desmond heard a familiar female voice. He looked up to see a young woman holding two books at her left side, right hand in her pocket. She had a pixie haircut - bangs falling to her right side and a short cut on her left side. She wore an unzipped leather jacket, white shirt, and black pants.

“Ah, Daisy, I was just thinking about you,” Desmond stood up at his desk and extended his right hand for a handshake.

“Did you wash after?” Daisy asked while looking at the extended hand before her.

SHE KNOWS! Desmond though and his eyes went wide in shock and horror. I knew it! I knew they could read minds! Finally, there is no-

“I knew it!” Daisy recoiled in disgust.

“Huh?” Now Desmond was confused, like a man who won debt in a lottery.

“I used to joke that that’s all you do in this cooped up place, but this is getting ridiculous!” Daisy said now more annoyed than disgusted.

You’re the one to judge me, you nympho? Desmond thought.

“Anyway, here are my latest works,” Daisy said and dropped the two books on Desmond’s table. “Let me know what you think.”

Already? I only just now- “Y-yeah, sure,” Desmond said trying to regain his composure. “By, the way about what we discussed last time. Perhaps if-”

“For the last time,” Daisy interrupted Desmond, raising her voice, “I am not going to write fetishistic fantasies involving my sisters! It’s disgusting!”

I know that half your writing is devoted to that, you goddamn hypocrite! Desmond grit his teeth in fury.

“Hey, don’t tell me you still haven’t finished that!” Daisy said pointing at the open tome in front of Desmond. “It’s been over a month! I’ve written trilogies in less time than that! What the hell have you been doing all this time? No, wait, please don’t answer that.”

Desmond was about to start listing off half-baked excuses, but he gladly accepted the opportunity not to do so, despite the implications.

“I think I better go,” Daisy said as she turned transparent. “Also, you better finish that assignment quickly - you know how papa gets when he’s mad.”

And like that Daisy vanished completely.

“I know you’re still there,” Desmond said and threw one of the candles from his table through the air where Daisy was a few moments ago. A troublesome habit that Desmond developed way back when, before he learned to sense the presence of other beings. After another sigh, Desmond got up and went to pick up the candle. As he put the candle into one of the many pockets of his robe Desmond realized quite clearly that even this pretense of cleaning up was a stalling tactic on his part.

This isn’t working, Desmond slumped back into his chair and held his head as the headache only got worse. And he also desperately wanted to read the new books that Daisy wrote. Maybe just a couple of pages, to see what- No! No, I can’t!

There was one option left. Desmond could smell his own desperation. He got up and walked away from his desk, back into Block B. There he found Rebecca almost exactly as he left her – on the floor, surrounded by books, reading in poor light with the same emotionless expression. Except that the piles of books changed slightly – the “unread” pile shrunk and the “read” pile grew.

“Ahem,” Desmond coughed to bring his presence to attention, which apparently distracted Rebecca about as much as a mouse sneezing, as she simply turned another page. Desmond was angered by the typical lack of awareness from Rebecca, but he could not afford to act rashly this time. Instead, he got out a candle from his pocket, lit it up using the fire from Rebecca’s candle and placed it near, to give her more reading light. Finally, Rebecca lifted up her head and looked at the white-bearded man before her.

“I’ll get straight to the point, Rebecca,” Desmond said to the girl. “Let’s make a deal - I’ll describe to you some Goddesses – how they look, what they have done, their known relationships and prominent powers. Your job will be to write down what you feel is important and then rewrite it into proper readable form. If you do this properly I’ll organize a small room for you with a bed. You’ll be allowed to take up to six books there as long as you return them within-”

“Deal!” The girl yelled out and nearly jumped up. Desmond looked into her eager eyes – he realized it was the first time he saw any light in them.