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GODS AND GODDESSES
GODS AND GODDESSES RP
So in this RP, we'll be playing gods and goddesses that belong to an ancient civilization I just made up, which is called Faemiri. Its inhabitants are the Faemirians, and the gods we create, of course. Only eleven members, please. (In addition to myself.) If you join, you hereby pledge to post regularly and not forget about the RP, okay? I want this to thrive! Here's the charrie sheet and my charrie.
Name: Isychio
God or Goddess?: God
Age: If he were human, he'd be about 47.
God(ess) of what?: God of silence, fortune, and colors.
Appearance: Very tall and strong. Rich dark skin. Eyes are wise and kind, with a hint of sadness. They look like color wheels with no pupil. They're cool, I can draw a picture if it doesn't make sense. I'll just draw a picture of him for you so he makes more sense overall.
Personality: He is, in essence, quiet. When he speaks, his voice is deep, harmonious, and rumbling. Many mortals will Queste far just to hear it. He's distant and gives off a strong aura of power. He likes to be alone, but you can tell it's worn on him through the years. He's a constant presence, someone to lean on. He's always there for those he supports. He's well loved.
Powers: He can silence millions with a wave of his hand, and make colors erupt from anywhere. He brings good luck or bad to those he believe deserve it.
Homerealm (a private world created by your god that only your god and any they invite can enter): Vibrano, the land of color. It's an archipelago of floating brown rock islands with rope bridges between them. A depressing silence fills it, and not even the streams of color can be heard.
Weapon of choice: Isychio uses a broadsword that turns into a scythe at night. Whatever form it takes, it's always strapped to his back in a silver sheath unless he's using it. It has a blade of Vibrano Iron, which is a special metal that contains a jet of the pure essence of color in the center. The hilt of the sword is golden, as is the scythe handle.
Sorry this was so long, hope you join!
submitted by Scylla
(March 4, 2016 - 10:16 pm)
(March 4, 2016 - 10:16 pm)
Top.
(April 29, 2016 - 9:16 pm)
(April 30, 2016 - 6:14 pm)
(April 30, 2016 - 6:15 pm)
(May 6, 2016 - 8:05 pm)
To be honest, I feel like this is mostly filler, but...
Anase~
So.
So.
I am famed for my mood swings. Mortals steer away from me as I look on my dead nephew ((sorry if I get this wrong, this whole family thing is making my head spin)). But I don't feel the anger that they're expecting me to feel. Only hollowness, like some sort of spark that used to dance was crushed, put out.
And slowly, my shoulders start to heave, and I can feel the tears trickling down my face.
I can see him still. The handsome, cheery, charming god who would throw those amazing parties, and speak in verse until he drove the lot of us mad. But this is not the same god. This is some sort of shell, the light gone from his eyes.
I expect him to run up, laughing at how he tricked us. Or maybe suddenly pop up, laughing, explaining why gods can't die.
But they have.
He's dead.
And it's simply a fact, which is something my hollow thoughts can accept, but my heart, so tiny now and stone, beats on, not accepting it.
Just let me accept it!
Just let me let him go!
I find myself on my knees. Who cares if Isychio sacrificed his home realm? Lumion is dead. Does anything else matter?
Unconsciously, I find myself gently spraying the ichor from his chest. I can't stand him like this, so mangled and destroyed. But clearing it off does nothing but expose the wound, which makes the emptiness throb with pain.
And now I can put a name on it.
Dispair.
(May 7, 2016 - 6:34 pm)
(May 15, 2016 - 10:13 am)