OK here’s what I’ve got so far.
I even incorporated some REAL SCIENCE that I’m actually pretty excited about for some reason. Anyway, this is an assignment for a class, so it WILL be finished.
The gilded dome shone with a dull yellow hue against the velvet cover of the night. Millions of stars watched over the golden city, and one rested atop the spire of the center dome. This star was a color unlike any hue in the visible light spectrum—its color could only be described as omniscient. To a human it would appear pink, but any god would laugh uproariously at that idea, and smite the human for his stupidity. This star was far too important to be labeled with a color. It was the star at the very center of the universe.
Underneath the ever-watchful star, Azathoth’s Court was in full swing. The “Other” gods danced in their marvelous ways, and played a haunting tune on their flutes. At Azathoth’s left was his co-ruler, Yog-Sothoth, and at his right was Nyarlathotep. Nyarlathotep was perhaps the only lower deity not disturbed by Azathoth’s and Yog-Sothoth’s grotesque appearances. Though, he was quite disturbing as well—all Lovecraftian gods were.
But the monstrous Lovecraftian gods weren’t the only deities at the Court. There were gods from all cultures and races in the universe. They mingled, making small-talk about wanting to be worshiped again, or complained about their followers misinterpreting their teachings. Jesus and Zeus were engaged in a loud, obnoxious conversation with the insect-like god of the Hrramfk race, from planet Amfk. Hera looked on contemptuously and shook her head. She ambled over to Sekhmet and Bastet, the Egyptian goddesses of war and motherhood, respectively. Sekhmet noticed her walking over and sneered and rolled her eyes.
“I simply cannot believe Zeus,” she said in a hushed, angry voice.
“What’s he doing?” Bastet said, turning her cat-face to Hera.
“He’s speaking to Jesus about his… ‘escapades’ as a swan,” Hera muttered under her breath. “The poor boy! Jesus is too young to know about that sort of activity!” Sekhmet snickered.
“He’s been around for 2000 years. He isn’t little anymore,” she said with a smirk. “Who’s the guy talking to them?”
“Some alien,” Hera said with a sigh. “I can barely even pronounce his name. Grak-something.”
“That’s Grrkhaghl,” the god in question responded as he walked over. “You must be Hera. Zeus wanted me to meet you.” He took Hera’s hand, bent, and brushed it with what may have been his mandibles. “My, you’re lovely for a human god.”
“I… thank you,” Hera said, flushing. She, Sekhmet, and Bastet glanced at Zeus, who waved with a stupid grin on his face, and turned back to Jesus.
“I haven’t met you before. Are you new here?” Sekhmet said.
“Yes, just joined last millennium. It seems there are an excess of human gods here at the Court,” he said, glancing around.
“Well, it makes sense, doesn’t it?” Sekhmet said. “The human who imagined this place basically gave us all a meeting place. But that wasn’t until the 1920s in Earth-time.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Grrkhaghl said. “Now, you are Sekhmet and Bastet, correct? Are you sisters? You look quite alike.”
“Well, cats and lions do look a bit alike. Yes, we’re sisters—daughters of Ra,” Bastet replied with a smile.
“And he is…?”
“The sun god of Egypt. Well, up until the Greeks showed up,” Sekhmet spat, and glared at Hera.
“Excuse me?” Hera shouted. “I have no direct control over what my people do!”
“Yes, but your pervert of a husband does! Your people destroyed my peoples’ culture!” Sekhmet roared. Bastet clutched her arm.
“Sekhmet, calm down, now, it isn’t worth it—!” she said.
“Not worth it?! They allowed our peoples’ culture—their very way of life—to be destroyed, and replaced by their own ridiculous beliefs!” Grrkhaghl backed away as the rest of the Court began staring.
“That was millennia ago! Besides, I couldn’t have done anything, my husband was—!” Hera blurted.
“Your husband was too busy fucking some human to give a damn about you or any of my people!”
The Court fell silent.
“Sekhmet!” Nyarlathotep hissed, racing over. The thing was faster than any of the other gods, even though he was just a vaguely humanoid mass of thick, black tentacles. Nyarlathotep halted to a stop right in front of her and leaned in towards her face. Sekhmet cringed, but didn’t step away.
“Yes, Nyarlathotep?” she growled after he didn’t speak.
“You dare to interrupt the great Azathoth’s Court?!” Nyarlathotep’s mouth-like orifice stretched, revealing hundreds of needle-like teeth and three tentacle tongues. Sekhmet stared and became speechless. After a moment, Nyarlathotep closed his mouth and snickered. “Perhaps you need me to take a form you’re more comfortable with.” His tentacles curled around his body and compacted into human shape, except with pitch-black skin, and no face.
“You didn’t need to do that,” Sekhmet spat, bristling. “I’m no coward!”
“Poor kitten, are you frightened of my appearance even now?” the servant chided. Sekhmet bared her teeth and prepared to strike, but Nyarlathotep interrupted her. “Now I beg you for your answer. Why did you interrupt the great Azathoth’s Court of the Gods?”
“Azathoth is not so great. He is a baby compared to even the youngest of gods,” Sekhmet replied through her teeth.
“But it is still his Court,” Nyarlathotep said. “Isn’t that right, O Great One?” Azathoth stirred but otherwise made no sound. “You see?”
“He didn’t even speak! Can he even speak?” Sekhmet demanded.
“You’re insulting your host, Sekhmet. Do you really think that’s such a great idea?” An obsidian grin suddenly split Nyarlathotep’s face. Sekhmet sneered and shoved him aside. She gestured at Azathoth with an outspread hand.
“Of course I do! Look at him—he can’t do anything to me! What is he but a worthless, blind idiot?! He has no true power. For such a ‘great host,’ he really is useless!” she roared. The other guests glanced at each other. “Who cares if he was imagined to own the Court? The one in charge should not be Azathoth, but Anu! He’s the oldest god—he has far more experience than any one of us, and he is far wiser than even the gods of wisdom!”
Azathoth pulsated, shuddered, and writhed a bit, but that was normal. He was completely unaffected by Sekhmet’s tirade. Nyarlathotep transformed back into his true form and gripped Sekhmet with a single claw.
“You’re begging to be banished, foolish kitten,” he hissed through his needle-teeth.
“Then banish me. I’d take living on Earth over bowing to your blind-idiot master any day,” she hissed right back.
Nyarlathotep transformed into a massive, winged thing and trapped Sekhmet in his tentacles.
“Let this be a warning to all!” he screeched. “You are in the Court of Azathoth! Not Mount Olympus, not Heaven, not even Ame! And as long as you are here, you respect your host!” He disappeared into the expanse of the universe and aimed for Earth.