Ye Are Gods (IC)

almostinsane

Well-known member
Hall of the Gods

It was rare for the gods to gather together in one place. Even excluding Azahiel, some gods were not the type to understand social interactions and still others wanted one or the other dead or maimed or were afraid that one or more wanted them dead or maimed. Still, for those who were willing to make the journey to the Hall of the Gods, today was a special occasion. Time meant little in Tir Nail, the Realm of the Gods (with each individual god's realm not quite syncing up with the others'), but the Anniversary of the Peace was one constant in this world. Whether they were willing to commemorate the occasion or not, all the gods knew what date it was and so, Earon found himself stepping through the Hall of the Gods, his eyes observing the facilities, a cup of nectar mixed with wine in his hand.

A great table was set up within the wall with food and refreshments served by spirits. Whether they were spirits of a god's fallen followers or the creation of a god specifically for this event, he could not recall. The present was not important. Instead, his thoughts turned to the past. He remembered when he became conscious, a confusing, chaotic event as his very being formed from the Sea itself. Where before, he had been only vaguely conscious of the push and pull of the Sea itself, he had slowly became aware of the life that dwelt within the Sea and later on, the life that dwelt outside the Sea. The Age before the War was one of discovery, of creation for creation's sake. He had discovered the capabilities of insignificant land mammals and had filled the Sea with countless species with the help of Tauphys.

His expression darkened. Yes... He had discovered other gods then. Great friends and peers at first and then, enemies and rivals. When Azahiel sought to assert his kingship, Earon had been among the first to oppose him, reshaping the the land and Sea in his opposition. The War had been one large battle with mortals and lesser creatures killed in the blink of the eye, culminating in the death of Amenti by War and the signing of the armistice.

Amenti... That gentle goddess, seeking only to please... To be murdered in such wretched way. He took great pleasure in being one of the gods to bind War and force him to sign the Armistice.

"Shadowed Dancer... I am in a reflective mood," he called out, requesting a song from the god of music. Call him arrogant, but if someone would gift him with music to accompany the depths of his mood, who was he to say no?
 
The Restaurant

Here stood five beings.

The world screamed out. Breaths failed to fill lungs. A crushing weight came down upon the surroundings. For two of them, their bodies were wracked with pain, but it was a glorious pain filled with life.

In that moment, the outside world had ceased to matter. Yes, for in this moment, such trivial concepts have no place. In this moment, in this world, something far deeper has taken root.

Continue moving forwards. If you stop, then you will die. Deep sea wonder, dread night monarch astir in his cave, moving all things slowly to a voluntary tumble into an abyss.

At his side, two beings stood. Judge of adherence. Judge of aesthetics. With their aid, his edict would bear no flaw. Such was tradition.

"So now, with an open heart and an empty stomach, I say unto you..."

Catharsis to collapse. Kenosis to expansion.

Like time turning back in a field of flowers, the primal scene before them was rewritten.

"Allez cuisine!"

Iron Chef Ashariel: Battle Corn.



It was a cataclysm that lasted an eternity from the inside and a moment from the outside, but when that raucous sound and light faded, when the collapse of that neutron star came to a close...

"...almost perfect."

The Fae who had chosen to walk alongside a god claimed another victory. The Spatula Saint's technique was unable to bridge the gap that laid between heaven and earth.

"Well done to both of you. Come, we should celebrate how far each of you have come."

"...chef, with all due respect, do you three not need to attend the gathering? Today is the appointed day."

"..."



Hall of Gods

Of course he had not forgotten the gathering that he was catering. Such a thing would have been ridiculous.

...thankfully, even if such a thing was the case, the Bullion Lord was not to be trifled with in the realm of his expertise. Forming a banquet fit for a quorum of gods in a matter of moments was something that came to him as naturally as breathing did to the average land-dwelling mortal. The assistance of his Avatar nearly cut that already meager preparation time required in half, and so, he had thankfully managed to arrive with the food and refreshments in tow without being late.

Sadly, the Avatar herself could not attend something like this, but that was only natural. She would have to make do with a celebration back on the Isles; no doubt Ignis would be able to put something together.

"Please, all of you, don't hesitate to indulge yourselves. Ah, and also, please thank Amenti, Haddock, and Ti An for their assistance; today's menu would not have been possible without them."

Menus had, of course, been distributed to the divinities present. Trim little things- an oversized menu was the sign of a poor restaurant, regardless of the chef's talent.
 

Grav

A confused leftist
Hall of Gods

Lravitus sat in his throne of twisting bramble and mushroom. Pondering on thoughts of the past, he remembered when Azahiel proclaimed his right of leadership. But he dismissed them for now was the present.

He exhaled. Millions of life forms formed in the air and vanished. Always churning, always dying, such was the way of life.

More of the gods appeared. He saw his brethren with his one eye. Seeing them brought memories back but he dismissed them again. There was no time to ponder, so he focused on the situation at hand. Food.

Of course, Pestocali would keep serving the food every meeting. Something he never found a use for, as corpses were better suited. But he ate anyways, for politeness’ sake. He always ordered the mushroom dishes, it was a theme.

The mushrooms brought him a memory, but this one he couldn’t dismiss. It was his birth. Born out of the first organism’s death. He would always be there with life. Side by side. Making sure the cycle continued and remained. For when Earon took the life in the seas, he took the life in the dark and damp. Those organisms that recycled life and death. Those were happy times. Then the war. This he dismissed.

Coming back to his bearings he saw more of his brethren arrive. He would wait for everyone to finish.
 

LordSunhawk

Das BOOT (literally)
Owner
Administrator
Staff Member
Founder
Hall of Gods

The masked figure of the Shadowed Dancer always came to these gathering but rarely if ever spoke. This gathering was for an event that came before the Dancer's existence, after all, so had far less meaning for the Dancer. But still, a gathering like this needed music, dance, and strong beverages as the various other gods drowned their sorrows.

So the Shadowed Dancer always attended, and always brought the Dancer's full panoply of musical instruments as well as the Drinks Cabinet Of Doom (tm) (patent pending). The Dancer smirked, humming to themselves before perking up, hearing the Ocean gods dour request.

The Shadowed Dancer was tempted, oh so tempted, to play something thoroughly irrelevant from the Dancer's fishing through the universe for inspiration. Something that would mock Earon for the way he demanded the Dancer perform as if the Dancer was a servant... but the Dancer had sworn to not indulge in chaos at these gatherings.

So instead the Dancer began to play...

 

khatun

Well-known member
Aiyami's Garden
Aiyami tried in vain to massage the pounding in her skull, the phantom pain pulsing through the whole of her as she reclined within her demesne, the vibrant court that surrounded her only adding to the noise scratching between her ears. Her eyes squinted at the finery on display while a voice pleaded somewhere off in the distance. She was with her husband, wasn't she? No, a lover perhaps?

She didn't remember. Then she did.

For a moment, the gold in her vision shimmered, grand tapestries becoming tattered wrecks, gold turning to clay, fine food and drink transmuting to ash as her brief loss of focus caused the anger within her soul to bubble out of her and into the tower.

But only for a moment, in the next it was restored to pristine beauty, despite the screams of those mortal souls who did not know her pain and nature.

The new ones always learned eventually.

The pleading grew more insistent, grating against her senses before she held up a single hand, and all was silent. Her eyes opened fully as she turned her gaze upon the servant who had the gall to tug upon her sleeves. A mortal soul, whisked away into her domain, his face indistinct and his name eluding her memory. Was he one who built splendid things for her in the realm of mortals? Perhaps one of the pirate-lords who stole from his followers?

The memory slipped away from her like sand between her fingers between each breath of the harried soul.

It was that time again, then.

The soul began to beg, for what she didn't hear, and before the soul faded completely from her awareness Aiyami gripped it within one of her many 'tails' and tossed it aside, the spirits made from her twisted children cackling as they latched onto it, dragging it outside of her tower as the illusion of decadence surrounding the fallen goddess faded completely as she turned her attentions away from maintaining the facade.

Beautiful spirits became as mongrel demons, their chosen lovers either resigning themselves to the change in scenery or attempting (and failing) to flee the tower, as their resolve and personalities permitted, but none of it mattered to Aiyami in that moment, for their attentions upon her and her realm were nothing compared to the attentions of gods.

She had to get ready.


Hall of the Gods

Once she would have garbed herself in light alone, striding into the meeting place of the divine wearing naught but her own beauty and power. That time was long since past, however. Now she clad herself in the finest of robes styled after the homeland of her beloved worshipers, and oh how it itched on her skin, her 'tails' wrapped around her waist and shoulders like an elaborate fur coat no one is going to mistake the ichor of hate for fur any more than you do in order to keep them out of the way.

Hopefully it would keep their more aggressive aspects from attempting to bite or steal from passersby whenever she lost focus, even if it did mean their whispers were more noticeable as a result.


She strived to ignore the voices only she and a select few could hear as she strode into the hall, absentmindedly accepting the menu as she tried to distract herself with the fruits of Pestocali's labors on the way to her throne within the Hall.

With a touch of mild curiosity she selected something that reminded her of better times before she ruined everything for herself and turned her amber eyes upwards to the rest of the gathering, taking in all who had arrived before her. She wondered when Amara would appear she deserves the mantle more than you she was a nice girl, and Aiyami would not mind seeing her again.

Then her thoughts turned dark. Towards him.


He was right to love them more than y-

The last whisper was cut short as her hand spouted claws, tearing through the tip of the offending appendage, causing it to dissipate into black motes that drifted upon the air, the rest of her 'tails' snapping them up briefly with fang and tendril before she forced them back into their 'proper' shapes, running her hands through them until the ichor was fur once more.

Her anger, (and more than a little self-loathing), was stirred by the physical representations of her hate, and almost boiled over, until her ears twitched at the sounds of the Dancer's music.

It was one of the few times when they were relatively quiet, and so she gave the god of music a smile you always show too many fangs and let herself lean back into her seat as the music washed over her.
 

Shipmaster Sane

You have been weighed
Hall of the Gods



It was not a small thing for slothful Vaad to bring himself to the presence of the other gods willingly, nor, in fact, was Vaad a small thing to bring himself, generally. The celebration unsettled him, the strain of the peace, the tension, the simmering bitterness in the back of the minds of so many, such seething thoughts, such scorn in the glee, the gloating, fervor of forced companionship. Desperate men, all, wild of will and dark of intent... frantic, haunted, to make the wizened Seer of an endless gloom shiver despite the warmth.

The Constancy. Always the same day, a chosen day, a time fixed. As if to fix the peace itself in time. Such an unnatural thing, surely.

Perhaps all of this, he imagined.

Although He had agreed, indeed his agreement had been pried from him, to appear, ever, at the appointed time, he strained this acquiescence to it's absolute bounds. He held Aloof, still, in his own way; his throne, a thicket of tar roots and lidded golden eyes, was alive with as little of Himself as he thought the host of heaven would hold to his word. Only a sliver of any eye betrayed his presence by it's amber glow, grown over the throne remained at all times besides.



(My hand at a little of the circular, cadenced diction familiar to some of the myths of Britain. Wont be composing everything this way, but I thought it might get across an appropriate feeling for Vaad's thoughts.)



If the feast is being held at the designated thrones, Vaad is there as a kind of amorphous mat of tendrils and large, nearly closed eyes, attempting to recoil into his chair hard enough to burrow through it. If the feast is in fact not being held in the designated throne area, all the better, thats where he is in either case, and he's "technically" fulfilling his agreement by appearing "at the Hall of the Gods" while not having to see anyone directly.
 

Yukitama

Well-known member
@Naga The Serpent

Hall of the Gods

"I do not understand." crackled the flames that were his voice, the sound of snapping wood filling the space around him as he looked over, a bit distant from the crowd. Not so far as to not be a part of them, but with enough distance to give him a touch of room to rely on for comfort.

"Each time we come and we do not do too much. Not all come as well." Even if he did not have a fondness for these meetings it was known that sometimes the flaming tree was known to be a bit harsher with his judgement of the kingdoms of gods that did not come to these meetings in Tir Nail. Although not so much that he was going out of the line. A simple noting of their absence was all it could be called.

With the precedent and rule established it became something to honor. Even if again, he did not see the point in it. The gods work and fulfill their tasks and all goes well. Or that is how it should be. Despite being one at the forefront in aggressive relations and strife with the other gods he paradoxically saw little to worry with or bother in those clashes. It would all boil down to a contest of strength between life and their people. If asked if he did not fear escalation, or a return to the god war because he considered him strong, stronger than the other gods. Then he would say that he considered himself strong. But why would there be a clash over simply carrying out their function beyond simply determining the proper outcome?

In the end even now he did not quite understand fully the reasons, or the feelings surrounding the war and the peace.

"Coming here is always strange." he spoke to Sahira. The goddess of the moon who often ended up being his anchor in such meetings that he required to get through these meetings. While they could speak sometimes one of the gods that more intimately dealt with him was required as a translator to avoid certain errors...

"The energy in this drink is good however. It sustains function and flames well." One of the prepared items by Pestocali. There were many things he felt as he drank it. There were many things he felt hen he ate what he made, things that he did not feel as strongly when he had tried food prepared by others. The element of consumption and the process of changing nutrients into fuel was well known to him as most mortal lifeforms depended on, yet there was something more.

For another it'd come easily as simply it being tasty, and a further description of the various ways it was tasty. From texture, temperature, the type of flavor and so on. But to Tauphys all the words that came were simply praise of its function. For that was all that could come to mind in how to describe it. The natural way to talk about it, and yet there was always something a bit off feeling, like what he felt wasn't truly understood even by himself.

"Which iteration of the peace meeting cycle is this by the way?"
 

S'task

Renegade Philosopher
Administrator
Staff Member
Founder
The Hall of the Gods

Even among the Hall there is light, and where there is light, there are shadows. From one such shadow a figure simply stepped, a staff of black clunking against the floor, cloak hooded.

Intei looked about the room at the other gods from beneath his hood. He considered them, some aspects of knowledge and ideas that were, arguably, a part of his domain. Most did not realize their ties to his shadowscape. Not that he particularly minded, knowledge was meaningless if not shared and spread. Everything, even the gods, cast shadows as they moved among the world.

Sadly yet, none that he really knew had appeared, so the figure made of shadow made his way up to Earon (@almostinsane) approaching the Sea God and giving a playful half bow with a flourish of his free hand.

"Well met, elder. I see we have some of the youngsters as well as other elders here so far."
 

LordSunhawk

Das BOOT (literally)
Owner
Administrator
Staff Member
Founder
The Hall of the Gods



The Shadowed Dancer was... bored. These meetings were always so boring and bereft of anything to inspire the Dancer. The food was always the same, some divine culinary masterpiece whipped up to impress everybody yet because of its very perfection completely boring to the Dancer's point of view. Where was the risk? The possibility of culinary failure? Where was the drama, the comedy, the tragedy?

Then there were the various elder gods just sitting around pouting or trying to look important or posturing about how they didn't want to be here really but were only here because the others were. It was stifling.

Then again, the Dancer was by far the youngest of them all, and most of them still seemed to either treat the Dancer as a child, or as a servant, or as a slightly annoying pest. It grated, it really did, but whenever the Dancer tried to liven things up all that happened was grumbling, grunting, and dour looks... BORING.

Sure, some of them were a little amusing, poor broken Aiyami and her tsundere attitude towards everything chief amongst them, the big 'shroom doing everything possible to comply with the letter of this silly tradition while otherwise ignoring it was a close runner up. The Dancer always looked forward to the rare times when Azahiel showed up, because then actual inspiration could come! The conflict, the drama, the angst! But no, not yet... but perhaps...
 

almostinsane

Well-known member
Hall of the Gods

Earon gave a small nod of thanks to the Shadowed Dancer for his music. Of all the gods, it was only the musician among them that was tolerated by all others. Even Azahiel liked music, as he recalled...

"Well met, elder. I see we have some of the youngsters as well as other elders here so far."

"Intei, the way you speak, you make me feel like an old man," Earon noted with a small smile, finally allowing his form to change from that of a younger being to that of an old, bearded man, clad in silvery armor, trident in hand. He gripped it tightly, as if remembering the great calamities he released upon the world in the God Wars. He shook his head.

"It is a tradition. Meant to keep us all in line, even Azahiel. Even myself," he noted, well aware of his nature. The sea may calm momentarily, but it must rage eventually. That was its nature. He frowned.

"My Avatar feels war on the horizon. No prophet be he, but I chose him for a reason," he noted quietly, "It is my hope that it remains a conflict in Ashariel."

The Grey Hawk, Off the Coast of Wadi al-Qamar

(@Naga The Serpent)

"You see, boss. I told you we could get you here in one day. And you doubt my capabilities," a young captain boasted to Caspian. Intelligent and cocky, Caspian did not much like the gleam in Aristo Grey's eye, but at the same time, he needed his services. He would rather avoid the commotion of a public visit, one Avatar visiting another.

"I need to speak with Zia. It has been too long," he noted shortly. The Avuvian legion was lacking in one key aspect: the lack of cavalry. Should the need arise, thousands could be drafted to serve in the legions or man the Confederation's warships, but good cavalry was limited by experience and the number of horse available, something the island nation had in short supply. War was coming. He could feel it in his bones. It had been too long since the last Crimson Reclamation or Nekhan or the Beast Lords gave anyone trouble.

"Oh... I get it. How long has your thing been going on with her? Decades? Centuries?" the young captain laughed, ignoring the stern look shot his way. Let the fool think what he wanted. For his part, Aristo palmed a coin between his knuckles. This job was easy and paid well, but Wadi al-Qamar held a lot of possibilities: information on magical artifacts, the coffee plant. Yes, there was profit in this.
 
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Draco

Adida
Hall of the Gods
Walls shift, ceilings rise from prior heights, Her large form demanding change. Black eyes stare at other gods from on high, faces swimming in rainbow lights cast by Her burning.

Rarely did the First Fowl appear at such gatherings. Despite its changing nature, the Hall stifled Her still; little space for Her to spread her wings, little peace for the din of the songs and cutlery.

Peace. Forced peace at another's hand, One above all others solely judged. Celebration of a ceasefire half measured.

Perzawlkhan's great brow furrows, flames shimmer brighter across her back. On a whim She chose this day of all previous to arrive.

On this day, now constricted by the gathering, She questions her own judgment.
 

Have You Seen My Son

Well-known member
Hall of the Gods
Oooh! So much grandeur, accompanied by so many foods and delectable drinks that had been set up for them all! There seemed to be souls and spirit servitors running about to and fro amidst it all, almost like tiny ants skittering about in their mounds, though the other gods seemed to be as dull or arrogant or as wary as ever. Pestocali always did make the best food, though-....wait, was that a dinosaur steak??? Nice! She would have to try to reserve a seat in the deity's domain, and bring them some ingredients as well, for a nice meal someday...perhaps inviting Kens and Sel’enca to come with her as a treat! Then again, she had Sel'enca here today for this, so...hmm...maybe she should wait awhile?

Eh, whatever!

But as for the other gods...

Big Bird (as she had long nicknamed Perzawlkhan) was roosting up in the rafters again like a big chicken, though at least they weren't 'being an Azahiel' like Mr. Edgy McEyeball Throne Guy over there! Such a dull and lazy octopus, who didn't even come in person at that! At least Intei had made the effort to say something to someone, make some conversation despite slipping in as he was wont to do. Aiyami was at least excusable somewhat for the state of seemingly constant pain she seemed to be in from Viv's perspective. The Dancer seemed just as lively as they had always been, however, and the music was never an ill touch on these meeting in her own opinion. Further, the Shroomy Shroom Shroom Man was at least among those who had come here in person, though frankly Viv had never really liked him for some reason. His people did taste good with the proper sauce, however! Oh well. Ooh! She could see Sahira and Tauphys talking over there though! She liked them, they were generally interesting individuals. So was Mr. Glowing Sun Man, when she'd pop in and visit or see him come to these celebrations!

She did miss her bestie Amenti being here though....oooh! She'd bring her some of the good food and drink! Maybe she could ask Pestocali for a "to-go" bag to carry it over! It was such good food, no one really deserved to not try it among the gods!

...well, except for Azahiel. Because no one actually 'liked' Azahiel when it came down to it.

Yet as Viv felt her lighter and far sillier mood begin to settle down once more, her pet nicknames for the gods and silliness coming to rest once more, the goddess looked to her side to see her Avatar walking over with a big grin. It made the goddess smile in return, as she'd been just about to go wander the room before settling down to eat any more food than she had already.

"Yo! How are ya doin' Vivy? Kens said he would have come if he could, but he's off probably kicking some asses on the western continent about now. Always happy to come to one of these functions, though, especially with you here!" Sel'enca said in a jovial, upbeat, and unrestrained tone of voice as she gave a brief salute to Viv.

"Sel! I am very pleased to see you here as well! I was just about to go say hello to Earon, want to come?" the goddess responded, friendly and vivid yet having visibly been wandering aimlessly around the room for a bit in an aloof and meandering manner.
 

Naga The Serpent

Well-known member
Hall of the Gods

"Because it is a sign of solidarity, Tauphys! It is a sign of our unity as gods! After the war, we sore to never cause such mayhem again and nearly all of us agreed to stand besides one another! To not attend such a fine gathering would be spitting in this glorious fraternity we have found with one another!"

While her face started bright and filled with energy, it quickly ended up a scowl. The sarcasm was dripping with each syllable of her little monologue. It would have been clear to anyone what her opinion on these gatherings were.

"...Not that any of us can agree on anything, or can even stand one another. Such a functional group, aren't we?"

Displeasure oozed from her mouth, and the words were spoken like a dagger. These meetings were purely for show, and she knew a solid number of the other gods felt the same way. Still, to not show would be an insult to all of those who intended. It created a cycle, one that many were miserable about. Either you show up to something radiating superficiality, or don't and annoy the remaining members of the pantheon.

As the goddess of Cycles, she probably should do something about it. Alas, it wasn't really her place to interfere with something like this.

"We show up because it is unacceptable to not do so, Tauphys. It is miserable, I know, but at least they only happen every now and again. Just bear it, and soon enough we'll be able to go back to our realms and actually enjoy ourselves."

Of course, the main reason Sahira hated the meetings was because several gods on the "ignore" list show up. Then they try to make small talk, which can only end in two ways. Either she ignores them and causes a scene, or she talks with them and her desire to join Amenti increases dramatically.

"And sorry to inform you of this, but I haven't looked into the fate of the meetings since the time I was lectured for saying everything Lravitus did right before he could. Personally, I think that piece of fungus should have been honored by having me mimic him, but I guess some disagreed."

Her scowl faded the moment Pestocali's came in. The only highlight of these meetings had finally arrived. She gave thanks to Amenti, Haddock, Ti An, and Pestocali before placing her order. Despite the wide array of fruits that were grown within the homeland of her people, she herself was much more carnivorous. The finest meats of all types were ordered, with an embarrassingly large amount of deserts at the end. A genuine smile had returned to her face, replacing whatever displeasure she held prior.

Thankfully, a goddess never needs to worry about the health risks that come with eating such an unhealthy way.

"Ah, but I do have a guess of what will happen, Tauphys. Someone will bring up some kind issue that will offend another god, they'll argue then storm off, leaving the rest of us to sit here awkwardly. The meeting will basically be over and we will all silently leave."

Near The Grey Hawk, Off the Coast of Wadi al-Qamar

It had been some time since Caspian had asked a messenger to request Zia ul Qamar's presence. This was strange, especially since Zia's normal place of residence wasn't too far from Erum's dock. While she wasn't as fast as someone blessed by Azahiel himself, she was still startlingly fast at returning messages and showing up to greet old friends. Yet, time continued to pass without her arriving.

Finally, in the horizon, the image of Zia running at full force came into view. Once she was finally in reasonable shouting range, she stopped to catch her breath. It wasn't like her to be this out of breath, so it would have been fair to assume that she had been running for quite some time.

"I'm sorry, Caspian! I've just come back from visiting Charam! I had just entered the city's gates when I got that message! Give me a moment, and I'll be right over!"

Considering Zia was quite the traveler, this wasn't too strange. She wasn't in Charam on any kind of official business, she was just doing research on the lives of those who lived there. While no Priest of Ti An would ever officially hold any kind of influence in Wadi al-Qamar, Zia appreciated their dedication to the law. It would have been nice if the officials of her own country would take some kind of lesson from them.

Once the girl had finished catching her breath, she started a quick stretching session, and finished it in a light jog to close the distance. As soon as the finer details of her became more clear, it was obvious that a giant smile was plastered on her face.

"It is so nice to see you again! What have you been up to recently, Caspian? It really has been some time."
 

S'task

Renegade Philosopher
Administrator
Staff Member
Founder
"It is a tradition. Meant to keep us all in line, even Azahiel. Even myself," he noted, well aware of his nature. The sea may calm momentarily, but it must rage eventually. That was its nature. He frowned.

"My Avatar feels war on the horizon. No prophet be he, but I chose him for a reason," he noted quietly, "It is my hope that it remains a conflict in Ashariel."
Intei smiled deep in his hood and nodded visibly.

"Yes, traditions are quite important, many traditions maintain knowledge that is otherwise forgotten."

He pauses a moment, looking around to survey hall once again.

"And a coming war. That is most... interesting. I hope that the mortals are not to badly harmed by it. You know my stance on such things. Wars sometimes shake mortals from stagnation and push forward their knowledge... but at the same time, it is always better for everyone if they do not."

He pauses, watching a few other fellow gods as they appear, looking up at the massive form of Perzawlkhan as she appears, shaking his head slightly. Why so many felt the need to show off their power he never quite understood. Better to simply appear in a common scale to make it easier to converse

"I hope none of our kin are encouraging conflict," Intei continued after a moment, "it is better to let the mortals to their own affairs... but then... I guess, I am the odd one here, since I have not favored any mortal realm or people. But if two such peoples go to war... once again war could come to us..."
 

almostinsane

Well-known member
Near The Grey Hawk, Off the Coast of Wadi al-Qamar
"Quite excitable is she?" Aristo chuckled as Caspian continued to ignore the half-pirate. He gave the woman a wave from the distance as the sip docked into port.

"You may give your men shore leave or conduct business as you wish. This should not be more than a night or two's meeting," he told him, ignoring the other man's sordid thoughts. Honestly, he was as bad as Earon was when his lord slipped into a silly mood, often prompted by a certain star goddess or his own boredom.

He had been on land for no more than a moment when Zia appeared before him. He smiled at her. She was a friendly person, much unlike the goddess that she served.

"It is so nice to see you again! What have you been up to recently, Caspian? It really has been some time."
"It really has... Not much has changed. The local eklesias wrestle with each other and the Grand Eklesia. Pirates still try to ply their trade and merchants are little better. Meanwhile, my lord's mood changes with the tide depending on if he's insulted, egged on by Lady Viv or is feeling reflective," he complained. He laughed.

"You should visit Gela with me sometime. They have a dozen versions of the Ship of the Heavens, an altogether fanciful telling of the time the two crashed a ship from the heavens into Ashariel."

He smiled, feeling a flash of annoyance from the connection he felt with his lord. There were few beings who could prick at Lord Earon's pride with impunity and he was among them.

"What about yourself, Zia?"

Hall of the Gods
Intei smiled deep in his hood and nodded visibly.

"Yes, traditions are quite important, many traditions maintain knowledge that is otherwise forgotten."

He pauses a moment, looking around to survey hall once again.

"And a coming war. That is most... interesting. I hope that the mortals are not to badly harmed by it. You know my stance on such things. Wars sometimes shake mortals from stagnation and push forward their knowledge... but at the same time, it is always better for everyone if they do not."

He pauses, watching a few other fellow gods as they appear, looking up at the massive form of Perzawlkhan as she appears, shaking his head slightly. Why so many felt the need to show off their power he never quite understood. Better to simply appear in a common scale to make it easier to converse

"I hope none of our kin are encouraging conflict," Intei continued after a moment, "it is better to let the mortals to their own affairs... but then... I guess, I am the odd one here, since I have not favored any mortal realm or people. But if two such peoples go to war... once again war could come to us..."

"And you know my stance, Intei. War is inevitable for humans. In the grand scheme of things, it does not matter if it's mortals themselves fighting a war whether it be a Scarlet Reclamation or Tauphys' hordes gathering together, it does not threaten the mortal realm. Rather, the mortals grow from it. But I do not want to see the gods break the Peace. We go too far. It is our nature. If we fought on Ashariel, I would not hesitate to drown half the world again... Though I may be tempted to intervene if only to teach young Caspian some respect!"

He said the last part as he caught Caspian's mockery of a certain incident, sending his threat down to his Avatar.

At the sight of Viv waving at him, the sea god's mood lightened and his form changed once again, this time into a being that was not quite solid nor quite water. He waved and laughed slightly as he caused the liquid from her and her Avatar's drink to join his form, causing him to grow a few inches.

"It is fortunate that you do not. As bad as we are, our greatest strength and greatest flaw are our worshipers. We'd destroy the world to protect them, but I would not change it. Tell your followers that so they may tell the world and so give us sweet sacrifices to savor and refrain from calling us into Ashariel."

A servant came to offer Viv yet another drink of nectar and wine, but this too, Earon caused to be absorbed into himself and he smiled in the young goddess' direction, daring her to get more. He'd absorb each one again and again until she came over to greet him.
 

Leepysheepy

Miserable Fuzzy Humanoid
The Hall of Gods

The maimed good was not one known to come to parties in recent years, or even out of his private chambers for that matter. Thanks to this most of the gods were likely quite used to what was sent in his stead; a small procession of diminutive hooded spirits, Kobold souls continuing to serve their Lord in the world beyond. Most of them bore a sizable glass lens, through which one could see nothing but pitch blackness and a single off-center foggy eye.

This was all the gods had seen of Koy, the lord of tenacity, in many years. Both bitter foe and old friend alike had adapted to his new life of paranoid seclusion, a pluckish adventurer turned to a crippled shutin. He could speak through this lens, but from experience the gods were aware of the open secret that he was more than likely only here to keep tabs on them.

As such, most were more likely to be paying attention to his gang of hooded cretins. Kobolds normally had fairly reliable common sense, and only those who knew not to cause much trouble were selected for such tasks, but they were still known to be general pests and at times 'find' some 'lost' items. Some of those not bearing the lens were thus wandering around, no doubt up to no good.

They kept their distance from the more dangerous deities, such as Aiyami, Tauphys, and Vaad, but said gods could nevertheless notice some of the miniscule hooded creatures watching them warily from a distance. The creatures were more casual around friendlier (or at least less overtly threatening) sorts such as Earon, Viv, Sahira, and Perzawlkhan, who could easily find themselves plagued by the creatures' examinations if they did nothing to disuade them (as one likely should if they bore any loose valuables). The chef god was meanwhile quite safe, as the spirits which would otherwise bother were instead more interested in the presented food, snapping at dropped table scraps like hounds despite no longer needing food.

The shadowed dancer in particular interested them it seemed, as a small crowd had squatted nearby to listen to the mysterious god's music. A few hummed along, usually with quite poor results- it seemed with the dancer's youth Koy, and by extension his blooded beasts, were less suspicious around her than the rest.

Intei, to the contrary, had a far less amusing crowd- a god of knowledge and shadows held particular interest to a god of the paranoid, after all. Those bearing the lens itself often turned it in his direction, allowing their Lord to keep a metaphorical and literal eye on the mage.
 

LordSunhawk

Das BOOT (literally)
Owner
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The Hall of Gods

While most of the gods found the kobolds a bit annoying, and most would probably expect the Shadowed Dancer to be annoyed by the off key humming of the group around the musical diety's performance, the Dancer was actually always rather charmed by the creatures. Kobolds were known to travel with the Dancer's peoples caravans, after all, and the Dancer's followers were always quite tolerant of their antics (so long as they left the rum alone, but that usually just resulted in plaintive cries of 'where's my rum' and comic-opera style chase scenes through the encampment ending with all parties involved laughing together rather than any actual violence).

So the Dancer just grinned and extended their powers just a little, more instruments shimmering into existence around them, their appearance shimmering and shifting, and segued into a new
song.



Meanwhile the young deity simply listened, rolling their eyes a little at the typical pomposity of their surroundings. And just for a bit of a laugh, and to indulge a little of the Dancer's love for chaos, used a bit of their power to put on a more... amusing performance. In the course of which, of course, they created a whole bunch of tambourines which somehow found their way into the hands of all the kobolds with hilarious results, at least from the Dancer's perspective.
 
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Yukitama

Well-known member
@Leepysheepy @Naga The Serpent

I suppose you are right. A response almost like a surrender. Despite the Moon stating such similar expressions in the past when he asked again and again, he never quite felt satisfied. It was weird. To feel proper being here as part of the laws set, and yet to have misgivings about the actual time spent. A meaningful, meaningless discourse. Well, he always found himself a bit confused with the very premise of the meetings.

“I must go correct something.” He suddenly broke off from Sahira, his expression of his duties serving as his form of a farewell. He did not say goodbye, or see you again very often. For it was already something he considered set in stone, a given that they would meet again. The world worked with laws, and those laws had cycles that always brought them together. So why was there a need for hello? For goodbye?

But if he were to say goodbye to something however…

Taking out his burning stick, more a spear of flames rather than a weapon of wood engulfed in fire. Tauphys briskly walked to the unwelcome intruders that violated the space of the gods and one by one, with all the attitude of a man with a flyswatter.

Poke, poke, poke. His speed was swift as a god on the hunt with his strikes, the gale of his passage collecting the ash of the burnt up Kobolds as a trail behind him. There was no time for cries of pain, merely the complete burning away of the intruders so as to not disturb the anniversary.

“Really, who let these things in here? That’s simply not right…”

Were they Azahiel’s kobolds or? Well it didn’t really matter. The space of the gods would remain the space of the gods. But it was very strange that they managed to get in, in the first place. He’d have to discuss that with the others.

His duty done he returned to the banquet, after making sure that the ash did not coat him. "What is the dancer doing now?" Mating dances, displays to impress or intimidate. Certainly there was a degree of presentation and art that he understood, but the more the dancer went into the more esoteric or tomfoolery displays of whatever came to mind, the more he himself felt as though its purpose blended together as a confusing mess.
 

⚕⚕⚕

Three-character minimum.
The Hall of the Gods

There was no great fanfare at Khunji's arrival. None to greet them, none to announce them.

Only the fluttering of the candle-flames, and the rustling of cloth and hair, to mark the passage of a momentary breeze — one that filled the hall, touching upon all four corners, before recoiling inwards and flowing towards one point near the Great Table. Myriad faint wisps of divine essence, borne on the shoulders of the languid winds, condensed and coalesced into a presence familiar to all presently gathered.

Many divines had adopted the likenesses of mortal beings. Others exemplified their own divine aspects in their manifestations. The primordial sky belonged to this latter category of gods, appearing as little more than an amorphous patch of sky-blue scatterings, suspending billowing white streaks that must have been clouds. Gazing upward, one would find the blue slowly giving way to an inky-black void. That gaze would be returned, the sky seeing and smiling upon all that it touched.

(In the world below, the mortals enjoyed a day a clear skies and bright sun.)

"I apologize for my tardiness." The voice came as a whisper on the wind, barely-audible to everyone in the hall yet emanating from no single location.

A gossamer appendage reached out for one of Pestocali's menus. While it had no need for this kind of sustenance, Khunji still possessed the sensations of touch and taste. How else could it appreciate the offerings of the culinary institutes?

Sampling the Bullion Lord's gastronomic inventions would be the high point of a day that Khunji already considered half-wasted. They would much rather be back in the Sea, studying some relic from bygone ages that the Foundation wasn't ready to receive. But there were none that Khunji would send in its place; it would not steal any of the limited time that those precious, promising students had in Ashariel.

As Khunji waited to be served, it heard a certain word that piqued its curiosity. Patient, the primordial sky waited for a break in the conversation — and, when the opportunity presented itself, pressed forward.

"Greetings, brethren. What is it that young Caspian has seen, that portends war?" it asked. This time, the whisper could only be heard by Eäron and those nearby.


Elliverta Scola Naturalia – Aeria 51

"The sky is calm. Great Khunji looks on this day with favor."

Renri scowled. With what appeared to be great effort, he released his vice-like grip on the safety railing and turned away from the acolyte and the miles-long drop.

"What's wrong, 'Ri? You look constipated — didja drink something weird last night?"

His scowl deepened as a careless, well-muscled arm dropped over his shoulders and a too-cheerful and too-loud voice shouted just centimeters from his ear. With a practiced maneuver, he slipped under-and-out of the side-armed hug and put a foot or so of distance between himself and his assailant.

"Don't say things like that in public," he grumbled. There was a certain resignation in his tone, as if he knew that his remonstration would be summarily ignored. "And just what are you wearing?" he demanded, looking up and down as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

Leather boots. Clinging leggings. Short breeches, cut just below the knee. A shirt under a bulky vest. And above it all, a thousand-erg smile on a face framed by tied-back hair and pointed ears. This girl — Ëfan — grinned, impossibly, even wider as she answered. "It's an expedition, dummy. Did you think I'd be wearing a dress?"

"Nnn," was all he could manage in response, still encased in the buckled-shoes and heavy cloth of the Scola uniform. True, there were clothes more suitable for physical exertion and the outdoors in his luggage, but . . . !

"Ha! By the gods, you really did!"

Sensing the impending humiliation, Renri desperately cast his gaze across the aeria, searching for any way out of the hole he'd inadvertently dug himself. Fortune seemed to smile on him, as he quickly caught sight of a familiar shock of silvery-white hair weaving through the crowd.

"Hey!" he called, waving towards the youngish man. "Senior Almroy, we're here!"

Thus, Ëfan's attention was diverted, and Renri used the brief respite to check that he hadn't stepped any closer to the cliff's edge when he'd been distracted. He noted that the acolyte — what was her name again? — had already slipped away.

"Bad news," Almroy began, after dislodging himself from Ëfan's hello. "The guides that the university contracted cancelled on us. We'll have to find someone else who knows the Huntlands on short notice, either here or down in the settlements. I still need to run down to the customs-house to file the cargo manifest — can I count on you and the others to ask around?"

"Sure." "Of course!" came the two replies, one curt and one enthusiastic.

"On the plus side, Elliverta left Nova Yoro's airspace an hour ago, so we should be good to depart by the afternoon. I've got the crew taking care of all the lab equipment, but make sure all your personal luggage is loaded onto the Nitet Iris by noon. "

"Sure." "You got it!" came the two replies, one curt and one enthusiastic.

"Right. Let's get to it, then!" And with that, the three students parted ways — one to the customs office, one to round up the other students and passengers, and one to scour the directories of guide services and search the docks . . .
 

almostinsane

Well-known member
(@Naga The Serpent, @⚕⚕⚕, @S'task, @DeTA)
The Hall of the Gods

"Caspian feels as if the world has had a long cycle of piece and conflict is inevitable. Fate is not my domain nor do I know if Sahira saw fit to bless my Avatar insight into what may happen, but I picked him because he was a warrior, no, a soldier. If he believes that this is the start of an age of conflict, I tend to agree with him. Though... I see Sahira is here."

Earon sighed, feeling his former playfulness ebbing away as he turned his gaze from the star goddess upon her "mother", though Sahira would deny it. He gave his young friend a wave and leveled his gaze over a the moon goddess.

"It would seem that my conversation with Intei was not as private as he thought. Lady Sahira, if you would lend us your counsel, I would appreciate it," he called. Out of all the gods, Sahira was the only goddess the Sea God took care not to offend. Ill-fate was a nasty thing to contend with and the relationship the Moon and the Sea held was a fragile one.

Water again formed into flesh and a white beard grew upon his face as Earon assumed his elder form, armor and all.

"Has anyone seen Azahiel? It is important that our would-be-king celebrate the truth as well," he noted.
 

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