"A hefty price to be sure, but such a cost befits salvation from an unknowing hell." The Lord of Whispers was ever fond of his riddles and half truths. To be told directly of anything was cause for concern all its own. War. Meeod's mind flickered towards the past, those times of the Clash of Gods. Some part of her wished that she had never woken, that she could remain with her beloved undisturbed, but such thoughts were neither here nor now. Now was the time to dwell on the modern world, and the warnings given graciously to her.
Many of the gods believed that her hatred of them came solely from those times. That it was brought upon from the fighting, the hatred, the death and mortal suffering. They were wrong, and in truth those matters meant little to her. He knew though, X. He knew that she spurned the gods for shirking the responsibilities that were expected of their power. That they would bring flawed life upon creation and abuse such flaws to meet their own ends. She assumed responsibility for them, having cared for the souls of mortals for all time, and in her infinite love, would see them free from their creators, and freedom from their flawed existence.
Meeod heard his questions to her. They were hollow and in rhetoric. As always He knew. However, even knowing the answer, some questions needed to be asked regardless. "My position remains the same. Your petty grievances do not concern me. You know though, more than anyone else that there are problems that need dealing with. Should it come to what you believe it will, and I have no reason to doubt, I will aid you, and the gods of heaven. For a time at least, as we will no doubt share a common enemy. If I am given my trophy, we will leave on amicable terms, and I will not bother you in your wars. My eye will always be on The Bearer of Incense, but if I'm given my boon, I will stay my ire, for a time."
"As for your other question." Meeod shifted slightly, raising her right hand towards the stone mask. The sleeve of her cloak fell away, revealing a bandaged hand and arm, cupping a small, pale white light. Others would seek to steal them away when her back is turned, or cause pain beyond their comprehension. She would see those beings undone. Her hand closed around the physical manifestation of the soul, sending it on its way. "Whether or not I belong is irrelevant. There are things that need doing, and nobody else is seeing that they're done."
"Thank you for taking your time to speak with me."
Everybody has problems working up the will to write from time to time. Anyone who says otherwise is a liar. I have motivational problems all the time when it comes to writing if I'm not being pulled in by immediate happenings.
This may be preaching to the choir, but you should definitely try to find something to take inspiration from. The best thing for me is listening to music and looking through art that I enjoy.
The grand assembly of the gods. Truly a sight to behold. It was not since darker times that Meeod did see such a gathering of the Creators children. Within the heavens, her form twisted into existence, even as the other gods whispered amongst themselves and gazed unto the revelry upon the mortal world. The summons of the god of knowledge had disrupted her sleep, and slow to wake as she was, this conclave had come into session without her.
She could see it. Events had already played themselves out before her arrival. Such was evident as the faces of many gave away an anger. To what, Meeod cared little. The gods in attendance, and whatever petty matter had caught their attention this time was of no concern to her. She was here to make assembly with the god of knowledge, and to view the happenings of the material world.
So did the Grand Sanctum come under her gaze. The festivities, the praise and worship, the life of mortals and all else unfolded before her. It never did her any good to look upon such things. Watching men throw themselves onto the grand altars arranged to them did little but depress her. Of them, there was no such place to offer praise to the goddess of the soul. Ancient as they were, these altars have long existed before Meeod had ever made her mark upon the world. Perhaps if she pressed the matter, she too could join the others and have a grand monument made in her name. That would never happen though. She did not wish for it, and she suspected few others did as well.
It did not matter in the end. Even her own worshipers mingled through the crowds on this joyous day. Such a celebration was to be enjoyed after all. Perhaps they will make something of this event. They have already killed for her, but maybe even they would not make too much of themselves on a day like this.
It seems that perhaps Meeod wasn't so late to this assembly after all. While the gods were concerning themselves with their own matters, little has actually happened as of yet. There wasn't much to do other than waiting to be addressed. She wasn't about to start up conversation with any of her peers either.
Titles: "Dreamer In Paradise" "Saint of The Faithless" "Nightmare of Mind and Mana"
True name: Reflection of The Moon
Inspiration: A feeling of peace and melancholy. A motherly need to protect. The viewpoint of something not human.
Appearance: Meeod reveals herself to both man and god with a singular form. She appears as a humanoid body draped in heavy blue robes, falling to the floor, draping over arm and hand, with a large hood concealing the head. Numerous thin chains of silver hang from various parts of the body. Connected to them are many different baubles and small crystals. The face is concealed by a stone-like mask, perfectly smooth and curved. The greater symbol of the soul is cut out of the mask. Looking through the holes in the mask, one would only see darkness. Under the sleeves and skirt of the robe are slender arms and legs wrapped tightly and completely in cloth. The body is human-sized. Tall, but not unnaturally so.
Symbols: The greater symbol of the soul consists five circles positioned together to shape a semi-circle. A crescent sits underneath, combined with the fives circles to create a ring. In the center of the ring is a large tear drop.
The minor symbol of the soul is a circle with a long line cutting vertically through it, and a shorter line cutting horizontally through it.
Portfolio: Repose Domain; Souls Sub-Domain
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Servitors: Fragments of Self: The servants of Meeod are not beings unto themselves. They are intangible, without form, and only exist to those who listen to their promise of a paradise beyond reality. It is these whispers that curry favour to the goddess of the soul, speaking of a true freedom, of her name, that they only need listen, and not lay praise and revelry on those who seek to bind their existence. These fragments have no mind of their own, they are merely extensions of their creators will.
Self Made Manifest: Meeod's hatred of the gods is great. To see those who live upon the world subjected to their will is sometimes too much for her. Yet, the gods are forbidden from directly interacting with the mortal world, so she cannot save them from their folly. In these moments, Meeod abuses the binding contract with the Creator to force her will upon the world. The Fragments of Self whom rest within the minds of those mortals who have seen the way are forced into the material world through those who reach for true paradise. Though she cannot set foot upon the world herself, these servants, extensions of her will, can.
These manifested fragments know no true form, though all are horrifying to behold. Rare though they are, these beings are great in their power, as is their detrimental effects on the world and those around it, for they are not beings of a material nature.
Weapon: A long, straight sword of silver. The minor symbol of the soul is etched repeatedly along the length of the flat blade. The handle and guard are of a simple, elegant design.
All beings are of the soul, gods and mortals alike, and all souls are of her domain. Meeod's love for the mortal soul is great, and they will enjoy a true paradise of eternal peace. Those gods that meet their end find their way to the goddess of the soul as well, and in the infinite power of her domain, she purges them from existence. It is these husks, these simple remains of godly souls that were used in creation of this blade that ferries souls to paradise.
Familiar: Meeod does not assume domain over any creature of the world.
Followers: Those that pay respect to the goddess of the soul are varied individuals from across the entire world. Meeod loves all mortals, and does not discriminate against those who reciprocate. She asks little of those who worship her, not to conform to any specific way of thinking, not to act in this way or that. These mortals live life as they please with only two edicts. Do not worship or support any other god. Do not practice any form of magic.
As Meeod is a relative newcomer to the world of mortals, her following is both less in number than those of most other gods, as well as being considerably less established and recognized. The latter being seen more as a positive, as though she asks little, her followers are known to still honour her wishes, actively working against the myriad religions of the world, and as they are best known, for hunting those who would act against the best intentions of their goddess by the use of magic.
Bio: When the Creator willed reality into existence, so too were made the gods. From the moment they were freed unto this vast expanse of existence, they spoke and bickered of life, and the means to bring it upon the world of their choosing. Meeod was not among these gods. She chose instead to remain by herself, separated from the gods and their project, and slept the time away. Beyond the reality that was made for them, she dreamed of a paradise, a pure existence beyond the flaws of the body and the mind. Beyond feeling and emotion. There she remained, peaceful.
At some point during her long rest, she became aware that this paradise did not exist solely for her. Others now existed in this peace. They could not be seen nor heard, but they were there, dreaming along side her. More came, over time. She accepted them, as who should not be part of this pure existence? Meeod could see that these beings were at peace, and as such, so was she.
A time came though when she would awake from her sleep. She did not wish to be woken, but she was, disturbed from her eternal rest. It was the world that the gods fawned over endlessly that caught her attention. Wars ravaged its surface, and the great battles of man and god echoed through all of existence. This was not what her eyes beheld however. What Meeod saw was the answer to the single question that she had held since her creation. She saw what those countless beings that she tended to and held precious truly were. She saw the souls of mortals, suffering under the Clash of Gods.
Meeod wept at what she saw. These souls that she only wished to be at peace, shackled to the will of the gods, made to fight out their petty grievances. Sorrow turned to rage, that the gods could treat them so poorly, that they could willingly allow them to suffer. Her fury burned with great intensity, but to little avail. She was so disconnected from the world she watched burn, that she could do little but watch as her will crept slowly towards.
The war was over by the time she herself had reached the world of mortals. The Creator had seen to the end of it by the time she had arrived, and it was the Creator that prevented her from setting herself upon the tired and worn down gods that she had grown to hate ever so much. As Meeod had not taken part in the travesty that led the world to waste, the Creator did not punish her. However, she, like all other gods, was still forbidden from directly interacting with the mortal world. In recognition to the love seen inside of her towards the mortals of the world, she was also granted allowance to the realm of Heaven, albeit in a limit manner as the Creator took note of her anger towards the gods.
In the modern day, Meeod's fury has simmered considerably. Her opinion remains the same, and if given the chance, would see the gods dead and gone. Now though, that anger is tempered by rational thought. While what she and others consider rational may be up to debate, she is not so far gone as to wildly attack any god she may come across. Now she directs her actions to the mortal world, where she seeks to uplift the mortal beings from the grip of the gods. She only wishes for mortals to exist peacefully, unfortunately the body and mind, flawed as they are, complicate such a simple goal.
Well, you're right, I suppose I am stepping on some toes. It doesn't have to be a bad thing though, it could be used to create a unique dynamic to deal with. Just because my god might be the final word on that particular subject, doesn't mean that he can't continue doing what he does.
I hope so anyways. I was pretty set on using that domain, but if it's too much I'll just have to see what I can do.
Titles: "Dreamer In Paradise" "Saint of The Faithless" "Nightmare of Mind and Mana"
True name: Reflection of The Moon
Inspiration: A feeling of peace and melancholy. A motherly need to protect. The viewpoint of something not human.
Appearance: Meeod reveals herself to both man and god with a singular form. She appears as a humanoid body draped in heavy blue robes, falling to the floor, draping over arm and hand, with a large hood concealing the head. Numerous thin chains of silver hang from various parts of the body. Connected to them are many different baubles and small crystals. The face is concealed by a stone-like mask, perfectly smooth and curved. The greater symbol of the soul is cut out of the mask. Looking through the holes in the mask, one would only see darkness. Under the sleeves and skirt of the robe are slender arms and legs wrapped tightly and completely in cloth. The body is human-sized. Tall, but not unnaturally so.
Symbols: The greater symbol of the soul consists five circles positioned together to shape a semi-circle. A crescent sits underneath, combined with the fives circles to create a ring. In the center of the ring is a large tear drop.
The minor symbol of the soul is a circle with a long line cutting vertically through it, and a shorter line cutting horizontally through it.
Portfolio: Repose Domain; Souls Sub-Domain
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Servitors: Fragments of Self: The servants of Meeod are not beings unto themselves. They are intangible, without form, and only exist to those who listen to their promise of a paradise beyond reality. It is these whispers that curry favour to the goddess of the soul, speaking of a true freedom, of her name, that they only need listen, and not lay praise and revelry on those who seek to bind their existence. These fragments have no mind of their own, they are merely extensions of their creators will.
Self Made Manifest: Meeod's hatred of the gods is great. To see those who live upon the world subjected to their will is sometimes too much for her. Yet, the gods are forbidden from directly interacting with the mortal world, so she cannot save them from their folly. In these moments, Meeod abuses the binding contract with the Creator to force her will upon the world. The Fragments of Self whom rest within the minds of those mortals who have seen the way are forced into the material world through those who reach for true paradise. Though she cannot set foot upon the world herself, these servants, extensions of her will, can.
These manifested fragments know no true form, though all are horrifying to behold. Rare though they are, these beings are great in their power, as is their detrimental effects on the world and those around it, for they are not beings of a material nature.
Weapon: A long, straight sword of silver. The minor symbol of the soul is etched repeatedly along the length of the flat blade. The handle and guard are of a simple, elegant design.
All beings are of the soul, gods and mortals alike, and all souls are of her domain. Meeod's love for the mortal soul is great, and they will enjoy a true paradise of eternal peace. Those gods that meet their end find their way to the goddess of the soul as well, and in the infinite power of her domain, she purges them from existence. It is these husks, these simple remains of godly souls that were used in creation of this blade that ferries souls to paradise.
Familiar: Meeod does not assume domain over any creature of the world.
Followers: Those that pay respect to the goddess of the soul are varied individuals from across the entire world. Meeod loves all mortals, and does not discriminate against those who reciprocate. She asks little of those who worship her, not to conform to any specific way of thinking, not to act in this way or that. These mortals live life as they please with only two edicts. Do not worship or support any other god. Do not practice any form of magic.
As Meeod is a relative newcomer to the world of mortals, her following is both less in number than those of most other gods, as well as being considerably less established and recognized. The latter being seen more as a positive, as though she asks little, her followers are known to still honour her wishes, actively working against the myriad religions of the world, and as they are best known, for hunting those who would act against the best intentions of their goddess by the use of magic.
Bio: When the Creator willed reality into existence, so too were made the gods. From the moment they were freed unto this vast expanse of existence, they spoke and bickered of life, and the means to bring it upon the world of their choosing. Meeod was not among these gods. She chose instead to remain by herself, separated from the gods and their project, and slept the time away. Beyond the reality that was made for them, she dreamed of a paradise, a pure existence beyond the flaws of the body and the mind. Beyond feeling and emotion. There she remained, peaceful.
At some point during her long rest, she became aware that this paradise did not exist solely for her. Others now existed in this peace. They could not be seen nor heard, but they were there, dreaming along side her. More came, over time. She accepted them, as who should not be part of this pure existence? Meeod could see that these beings were at peace, and as such, so was she.
A time came though when she would awake from her sleep. She did not wish to be woken, but she was, disturbed from her eternal rest. It was the world that the gods fawned over endlessly that caught her attention. Wars ravaged its surface, and the great battles of man and god echoed through all of existence. This was not what her eyes beheld however. What Meeod saw was the answer to the single question that she had held since her creation. She saw what those countless beings that she tended to and held precious truly were. She saw the souls of mortals, suffering under the Clash of Gods.
Meeod wept at what she saw. These souls that she only wished to be at peace, shackled to the will of the gods, made to fight out their petty grievances. Sorrow turned to rage, that the gods could treat them so poorly, that they could willingly allow them to suffer. Her fury burned with great intensity, but to little avail. She was so disconnected from the world she watched burn, that she could do little but watch as her will crept slowly towards.
The war was over by the time she herself had reached the world of mortals. The Creator had seen to the end of it by the time she had arrived, and it was the Creator that prevented her from setting herself upon the tired and worn down gods that she had grown to hate ever so much. As Meeod had not taken part in the travesty that led the world to waste, the Creator did not punish her. However, she, like all other gods, was still forbidden from directly interacting with the mortal world. In recognition to the love seen inside of her towards the mortals of the world, she was also granted allowance to the realm of Heaven, albeit in a limit manner as the Creator took note of her anger towards the gods.
In the modern day, Meeod's fury has simmered considerably. Her opinion remains the same, and if given the chance, would see the gods dead and gone. Now though, that anger is tempered by rational thought. While what she and others consider rational may be up to debate, she is not so far gone as to wildly attack any god she may come across. Now she directs her actions to the mortal world, where she seeks to uplift the mortal beings from the grip of the gods. She only wishes for mortals to exist peacefully, unfortunately the body and mind, flawed as they are, complicate such a simple goal.
