[center][color=00BFFF][h3]Zephyrion[/h3][/color][/center]

Soft eddies of wind and breezes drifted from the stormy vortex that was Zephyrion, lapping upon the newly formed bodies of all those other gods. He carelessly drifted above and drifted through the air, somewhat bemused by Astarte. She was funny, the way that she tried to awkwardly fly and test her powers. Such things had come completely naturally to the First Gale; the wind did not need to learn how to fly! In any case, for some time he focused on consolidating his form to take on a more suitable appearance. The wild tornado that was his body twisted and warped until other, smaller, flailing vortexes extended out from the main in a way that they resembled those mundane appendages that the other gods used to manipulate their physical surroundings. Sparks appeared from within the storm, cackling and hissing as they were forced into physics-defying balls of pure, writhing lightning. Those were his two eyes.

One by one new siblings appeared while he amused himself, each one of his new brothers and sisters bearing a distinct name and nature that Zephyrion instantly knew. He felt some of them looking in his direction, probing his very self, and judging him. The ones called Vulamera and Toun were the most obnoxious about it; trapped in this currently empty plane, they were all so close that Zephyrion could hear their thoughts. He sensed their disgust, their contempt, and their noxious notions of superiority. The feeling that this wracked the volatile god's mind with was at first overwhelming, [i]suffocating[/i] as he understood that concept. It quickly transformed into a bitter spitefulness. Such mockery would not do! He had a few notions about all of those gods that had seen fit to judge him, and had no intention of even attempting to subdue such thoughts or mask them from the others.

He himself found Vulamera to be a rather repugnant and useless addition to their number. There she was, a supposed genius and master over knowledge, and yet any supposed intellect went wasted. What foolishness and folly it was, to be the very embodiment of meaningless fact, pointless curiosity, philosophy, and that deep rooted longing in her to explain their predicament rather than just accept it as simple destiny and the way that things are...in a word, she was the divine manifestation of uselessness! It was well that she chose not to occupy a space with a physical framework, lest her foul form defile his sight. Perhaps one day her oceans of false wisdom would evaporate to leave behind the salts of truth and reality, but until such time, he would take no pleasure in her presence!

Slightly less detestable was Toun. In a way, he was actually droll! He wanted so desperately to achieve perfection, to embody it, but his very idea of the concept was twisted. It was blank, ugly, boring, and even mechanical...it lacked Change! It lacked imperfection! For those reasons Zephyrion saw Toun as misguided and could only be bemused at the fellow deity's apprehensions about Change and how it had the power to disrupt his visions. Perhaps under the guidance of a more enlightened god Toun might show potential! He was a diamond in the rough; or perhaps, more akin to a lump of formless mud and clay, just awaiting the right craftsmen to be shaped and fired into something more perfect. Ironically, Zephyrion saw that and probably cherished Toun more than the Porcelain Sire did himself.

Vestec seemed delightful! He would have to be friends with that one! Astarte also seemed interesting; he decided that he would eventually get to know her as well. He would still unsure about those sly little gods hiding in the darkness: Julkolfyr, Daegon, and Vakarlon. He would observe them as best he could before deciding whether they were worthy of a kindred bond or the wrath of Change.

To his surprise Zephyrion found himself feeling some degree of warmth towards Niciel and Teknall. They understood his nature and purpose! Perhaps they were reasonable and worthy of respect, even if they did leans towards that order and stability that Zephyrion found so easy to loathe.

Time passed. Whilst the other gods milled about and partook in their own diversions, Zephyrion spied Teknall taking the initiative to plan ahead and create a blueprint from which this new universe might be constructed. That sparked a burning question in his mind: what was he meant to do now? What would he do once this universe was created?

[i]'Bah,'[/i] he thought, [i]'planning is a waste of time! Why think, when one could instead do?'[/i]

He looked down once more to see that some time had passed whilst he had struggled to reach his ultimate conclusion. Now there was a small crowd around that blueprint, each god looking to contribute something. He would explain to them the error of their ways!

The soft breeze that whispered its way onto the backs of those gods would turn into a sudden and forceful wind as Zephyrion rushed to their side without warning. His whirling appendages warped and twisted into strange ways, forming smaller vortexes, until their ends truly resembled a hand complete with fingers. Without putting much thought into what felt like a natural gesture, he reached out and touched Toun and Teknall on their shoulders. It was meant as a gesture of some warmth, but it would no doubt come off as cold and disingenuous; such was the curse of having a touch of nothing but cold, empty wind. 

Those orbs of glowing lightning that were his eyes cast an odd light upon the blueprint as he reads it from over their shoulders. After only a few moments, he looked to them and spoke, [color=Gold][b]"Brothers! Your plan here is folly; all things must surrender to the inevitability of Change! Do you truly think that such a world could come into fruition?"[/b][/color]

He looked back to the design. Save for the few small blemishes create by that chaos that Vestec had wrought to mar the flawless and carefully thought out design, it all looked perfect. [i]Too perfect, bound to fail.[/i]

He looked now to his brother the Adversary, one whom he sensed was more or less in agreement. [b][color=Gold]"You are right, brother! They have created something that is flawed by its own cheap, false form of perfection."[/color][/b]

The hand that was upon Teknall's shoulder lifted and an arc of lightning cackled into existence between Zephyrion's finger and that blueprint. Not content with summoning some pencil and drawing his thoughts, he was one to burn what he wanted onto that sheet and infuse it with his power, the essence of Change. First, he found that periodic table and traced over those elemental gases that he would lord over: oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, even deadly chlorine...it would seem that Teknall might have subconsciously made those in the image of the very gases that rushed through the storm of the First Gale's body even now; how else would the Great Artisan have known about some substances?

Regardless, Zephyrion would not suffer to have the air that he ruled over created by another. He wrought his changes upon those gases of oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, chlorine, and a few others...he willed that they would be lonely things, diatomic, always seeking the company of one of their kind. As he thought of such things, they took shape and became reality; the Manifestation of change already was contorting the laws of physics to his will. He quickly and arbitrarily made many other seemingly simple yet profoundly meaningful changes to those things that he sensed were gases and thus claimed dominion over, gleefully ignoring any protests that may have been made.

Once that was done, he spoke again, [b][color=Gold]"Now, much better! Does this fiction of a world not appear so much more beautiful for its variety and unpredictability?"[/color][/b] The storm seemed to settle a bit, almost sighing with relief and happiness. Right when they might have thought that Zephyrion was done, he spoke again, [b][color=Gold]"But this is still all wrong! Look at this broken world that you have envisioned: it is entirely bleak and two-dimensional, even with the randomness created by Vestec, it is locked in stillness and devoid of fluctuation and perhaps even motion, akin to a painting or perhaps some worthless piece of stone carved into the likeness of a more beautiful thing."[/color][/b] His tone increasing in fervor and seemingly wild madness by the second, he continued on his raving, [b][color=gold]"What use has 'art' like this but as a diversion to reality? This inanimate thing, this [i]machine[/i] is a pathetic excuse for a [i]real[/i] design! It lacks life! It lacks Change!"[/color][/b]

All of his hands wheeled away from the blueprint. He carved his ideas into it not with lightning, but with his breath. The vortex inhaled, sucking in a vast volume of air from the pure nothingness of space. Then he exhaled, and from his long breath flew the wild Winds of Change. Glowing golden, they crashed into the blueprint. The thing fluttered wildly as the winds tore at it, burning it, rusting it, coloring it, [i]melting[/i] into it and becoming one with its very essence! At first it looked almost ruined, but as the dust settled and the storm radiated a content and smug aura, it was clear to any objective eyes that this blueprint was now something more than it had been before. It glowed with a magic and primal force, it throbbed with a heartbeat of its own, and it seemed in every way a living organism just like the universe that would be borne from this seed. The Change and beauty that Zephyrion had haphazardly imagined had melded with the concepts written by other gods. Whereas Vestec's brand of chaotic change corrupted and twisted, Zephyrion's worked in harmony with the rest of that blueprint to create a more vibrant universe. The Change that he had brought about was mostly benevolent. At least this time.

Exuberantly flying away as abruptly as he had arrived, Zephyrion found himself thinking, [i]'Isn't it great to have a plan, to have pointed out their flaws and improved their design. Planning is everything; one cannot simply act!'[/i]

[hider=Summary]
-Zephyrion heard the thoughts of some of the others, and was more than a little offended.
-He thought to himself about some of the others, not caring about how they could all hear what was going on in his mind.
-Rather annoyed by how Teknall had taken it upon himself to design the elements that would constitute air, a thing under Zephyrion's dominion, he haphazardly changed several elements in a childish display mostly to show that he could.
-More importantly, he infused the blueprint of the universe with the primal force of Change, something critical to its existence.
-Surprise: Zephyrion is a giant hypocrite who changes his mind quickly![/hider]
[hider=Might Usage]
-3 Might to inhale a bunch of air and grow powerful! (Level up to 2)
-1 Might to infuse the blueprint with Change[/hider]