Curate, connect, and discover
there's a level of angst to being anubis i think. imagine you are born into a stable yet loveless family. your mother loves you, sure, but your father's love feels hollow. at a young age, you figure out your father doesn't really love your mother, and by extension, you, because you are your mother's son more than you are your father's. you have no idea why he doesn't, but you want his love—desperately. you've seen other families, see how they love one another; laugh with each other. why can't you get that love, too?
you spend all of your childhood trying to chase after his love, but it's just not good enough. sometimes, there are days where you have to go out as a family, and that's the only time your father places a hand on your head or shoulders and smiles at you. it's a fake smile, but you can pretend he means it.
you're a teenager now, and your father's gotten more distant; more angry. he tries his best not to show you—that's the only reason why you know he actually does loves you—but he's terrible at managing his emotions. your mother cries at night and prays to the other gods about why your father isn't so obedient to her anymore. you get a sinking feeling that this marriage, this family, is doomed. not just because of your father, but because of your mother, too. you wonder if you're the reason for this curse; for this unhappiness. it would make sense.
as an adult, the three of you hardly speak to one another. your father gets assigned to ra's baroque and is never seen around. you go with your mother to the duat to help with funerary rites. down there, there are whispers of your mother's infidelity, that your true father is actually osiris. she tells you that those are just that: rumors. on lonely nights, you entertain the idea of being osiris' son, of horus the younger's half-brother. would that change the situation you found yourself in? no. no it wouldn't. osiris is nice, and you come to him a lot for advice, but he doesn't particularly strike you as the type who seems fatherly—and neither does he.
you have a couple of other co-workers on the job. ma'at, thoth, ammit... then there's the four sons of horus. they work with you to guard the organs. secretive as they are, they are well-liked, no doubt because they are that: the sons of horus the elder. sometimes, hte comes into work and greets them, and you get a burning jealousy watching how lovingly he interacts with them. for some reason, it really bothers you more than usual. you can feel it—some sort of connection that intertwines you all together outside of just being related job-wise.
then, hte gathers the ennead and proclaims who's the other father to his four sons. it's seth. everyone freezes and looks at the other god—who vehemently denies it. he's been married to nephthys ever since then, and he's never slept with anyone else. this is also when you learn about your father's past—his role in being the former king's right hand, his second-in-command, other half. suddenly, it all makes sense. you want to laugh and cry at the same time. no wonder! your father must resent you for being your mother's son, for having nephthys steal him away when they split. he's never gotten over horus, never had wanted to.
hte asks seth to reconsider their relationship together. the way he looks at your father is sickening—but what is more sickening is how soft your father looks back at him. you've never seen him make that face towards you or your mother, and it's enough to make you want to throw up. most of the ennead supports your father and the elder horus' relationship more than they did his and nephthys', and it looks like in the near future, the latter will formerly dissolve because of this. while you might pretend to be happy that this unstable marriage will come to a close, what will happen to you then? will the elder horus accept you as his son as well, or will he see you as your mother's son instead?
perhaps this is karma for being born the way that you were.