Name: Qullqiya

Primordial or Conceptual: Conceptual

Domain: Supernatural

Supernatural is that which is beyond the laws of nature, which cannot be explained by logical methods. Mortals often showcase fear towards an existence beyond the mundane, yet often have a belief in things unseen, be it charms, clairvoyance, or tales of spirits and magical creatures.

Its a brand of magic that is naturally chaotic. It is rare, erratic, fleeting, asymmetrical and elusive. Yet unlike the occult, it doesn't need to be necessarily hidden. It's designed to not become commonplace, to be impossible to truly understand, as its power is derived from impossibility.

Unlike most magic which is independent in concept, the supernatural exists from a mortal perspective, from a wish for things beyond what is naturally possible, a belief in magical solution and unseen forces of destiny or luck, one could see it as a rebellion against the natural order.

Portfolio: Darkness

Darkness is a mortal concept, it is not the mere physical lack of light but the uncertainty it brings, the blind spots their senses cannot reach which end up creating a blank space that their mind often fills with all types of possibilities, many of them illogical. Mortals will often see things in the dark or hear words when faced with complete silence. Mortals will often drop all pretense of logical thinking when faced with blind spots and sensory deprivation, they will lose their faith that locked empty rooms are truly empty, they may believe empty boxes could be filled with something or that dark alleyway could lead into distant lands.

This anxiety-driven, often illogical, creativity is, of course, beneficial to supernatural possibilities and as such, it is often the interest of Qullqiya to keep things a bit obscure.

Their Realm: Starryhall is a land of contrasts. Under an eternal night, most of the landscape has a gentle, muted appearance. Simple forests and hills, with small streams and serene lakes. The structures in this land are the opposite, they are somewhat colorful, elaborate and often decorated in glowing details, in particular the roofs.



Within the building is what seems to be an academy or university of sort. Libraries, studies, exhibitions, observatories, among all sorts of rooms dedicated to both study and bureaucracy. To many, it appears to be a parody of such buildings, as all 'study' done here will always lead to more questions than answers, but to its true master it is a useful tool in the development and 'shipping' of supernatural phenomena.

Persona: For a goddess of a chaotic domain and purpose, Qullqiya acts in a way that is surprisingly methodical and orderly. She has mannerisms that are polite and elegant, her tone is reserved but not emotionless, and she even has a bit of an obsession with organization. All of her formal behaviour doesn't change the fact she is a chaotic being who is likely to act in an illogical manner and spout absurd logic, even if delivered in a 'reasonable' lingo.

She speaks in a very particular way, with an abundance of neologisms, acronyms, euphemism, and a pretense of sophistication and that all she is saying is matter-of-fact, even when they are in fact opinions and conjectures, and she abuses statistics and hand-picked interpretation of previous events to drive her points.

Her objective is simply the maintenance of the supernatural, to keep creation free from the shackles of order, yet, she has no particular ambition to directly undermine other gods, although she does desire to expand her domain as much as she possibly can and it may require some actions which may not be necessarily beneficial to her siblings. Her approach to the objective is often goal minded and direct, delivering chaos in a systematical and efficient manner.

Base Form:



A normal-sized female with a monochrome, platinum-colored body, often wearing minimalist black clothes with more elaborate ornaments in cyan, yellow or magenta along with jewelry of metals and gems within the greyscale palette.

Domain Form:

- Supernatural Domin -



A lean and elegant winged beast covered in what seems to be a mix of plumage and fur.

Avatar:



Her first avatar is not one who acts openly as her avatar, but who pretends to be a mortal just like any other, a friendly and relatable person who really likes to drive home how she is very much a normal fellow mortal who partakes mortal acts such as eating, working and dying. The girl, with olive skin and platinum hair, acts as a bard, minstrel and street performer to gather attention, which also helps to spread the supernatural mindset a bit more through song and fancy tricks.

Name: Evandra
Primordial or Conceptual: Primordial

Domain: Fire. An invaluable tool since ancient times. The light and energy it produces in the form of heat was instrumental to humanity’s rise as a dominant species and allowed for many inventions. Other than that, fire also composes some aspects of life on a more conceptual level. Emotion, drive, courage, among others are all fueled by the fire within.

Portfolio: Passion. An intense emotion. Passion can come from love or hate and burns like a roaring flame in either case. It can also mean a strong sexual desire. However, due to its intensity, passion is usually fickle and eventually dies out leaving nothing behind. Passion can be romantic, fuel one's determination, inspire great deed, but it can also be tragic and violent.

Realm: Bacchanalia. The Realm takes the shape of a wide chamber with reddish brown floor, walls and ceiling and illuminated by big fires in openings between the walls and ceiling. The chamber is composed of a wide open area with a long and steady ramp that leads to a big bed where Evandra rests most of the time. The room has a seemingly endless supply of fruits and drinks and the air is saturated with the smell of incenses and the heat of the illuminating fires. There’s also a separate chamber with a heated bath large enough to fit a dozen people.

Persona: Much like her fire, Evandra is passionate, but also fickle. For the while that her passion lasts she shows strong emotions to people or objects, but as soon as it ends she moves on to whatever interests her next. She demands attention and is clingy to whatever has her attention and if refused will either shift to hate or immediately start ignoring it.

Evandra’s proud and selfish and doesn’t take well to being insulted or bad mouthed. She considers herself to be the peak of beauty and if denied that she takes it as an offence.

Should she truly devote herself to something, however, she’d keep loving it with her all indefinitely. On the other hand the same is true for her hatred and grudges. In either case if she latches on to something it’s for good and she won’t let it go willingly. Even if the person she loves wants to leave her.

Base Form: Evandra takes the shape of a young woman with a lean body and light skin tone. Her long hair is gold and her eyes rubies mounted on the face of beauty. Her breasts are a handful each and her legs are long.

Evandra doesn’t wear much in the way of clothes and wears only enough to cover her privates and bosom (I.E. a bikini). Occasionally she wears a sarong as well.

Domain Form: Evandra retains her base form while in her realm, but flames cover her body. These flames are as intense as her emotions in any given time and carry heat appropriately, but is only lethal if she wills it to be.

Avatar: Evandra’s Avatar is named Solayu. She’d be a mirror image of Evandra if not for her scarlet hair and tanned skin. Solayu also inherited her matron’s persona and are thus almost identical to each other. As such both goddess and Avatar often refer to one another in first person. They can also share senses with each other if they so desire.

Musical Theme:

Domain: Ganglion Blood Knuckle is a God of Violence. Violence is a conceptual domain encompassing any act of destruction for its own sake.

The accident of a falling stone and the chipping of a mason's chisel hold not Ganglion's attention, but he watches every rock that is thrown with intent to harm. Violence occurs when the will to destroy arises before the will to create and preserve. It's easy to justify violence with good ends, or with self-defence, or with raw instinct, and Ganglion knows every justification, valid or not. It doesn't matter much to him, though. Blood is blood and bruises are bruises.

Portfolio: Where there is ill intent and ill action, there is hurt. Ganglion is the God of Injury. Every cut, burn, and broken bone in the universe is felt by him, and dealt by him, somehow, in some strange ripple along the endless Lifeblood. When Father Blood Knuckle wills for someone to hurt, they hurt- mostly because he enacts his will by beating them with his fists, and partially because he enacts his will by getting someone else to beat them with their fists.

It's very important that Ganglion does this. Bruises teach lessons. One must be tested to know one's limits, and one must have practice to grow resilient. Without taking punches, one does not know when is a good time to sling punches, or how. And, of course, injuries heal. When a fight goes on too long or ends too quickly, Ganglion looks over the wounded and gives them only as much pain as they need. His gaze comforts the bleeding and aching, restores their strength, and gives them hope for the fights to come.

Realm: Ganglion lives and fights in The Dust. The Dust is a simple world of dust, loose rocks, and wooden beams, hastily-constructed half-ruined towers and climbing ladders on which to play and fight. It is bright and it is cloudless and it is hot, with a cooling wind to dry out his sweat. There are hills and valleys that are rather easy to scale, and some sparse pine trees, and fresh springs of water. Ganglion's sparring partners manifest here, big, dumb jolly ogres and bulls and snakes and other such things all looking for a scrap. There is night and a sun, but no stars or clouds, because those are distracting. Food and bandages manifest in roughly-nailed wooden crates, and even grievous injuries heal rapidly here.

Personality: Ganglion exists to fight and hurt and rage and bully, and he is content with this, because he knows that he will never destroy, only injure. He is both a violent man and a very peaceful one. He holds no grudges and encourages no hate, and builds no friendships- everyone too weak for him to fight is his student until they are strong, and everyone else is his rival. In this way he is never really lonely among men, and every fight is, for him, a chance to laugh his hearty, hearty laugh.

Ganglion holds few moral positions. Destroying things outright is fine in moderation, but there should at least be room for regrowth so that the scrapping can continue. Beating things that don't fight back is rather boring, and lazy, which is worse. Anyone who desires to fight has a right to fight, though if you're dumb about it you'll face dumb consequences and deserve them. If you stop a fight where there really should be a fight, you're a lil bitch. If you stop someone from getting back into a fight by hitting them while they're too injured to move, you're about to be offered a new fight altogether, this time with God.

Not to say he's not an asshole himself, though. Starting fights with words or fists is what Ganglion does, and he loves it. Oh, he loves it.

Base Form: Ganglion manifests as a man approaching middle age, with well hewn muscles under just a little fat. He wears a pale green sleeveless tunic and loose beige trousers, and boots. His hair is very short, as is his beard.

Domain Form: As described, but a foot or two taller with fingerless boxing gloves and a black eye. His trousers and tunic are ragged, his arms are bandaged and his knees are scraped. This is the form he assumes every afternoon in The Dust after scrapping through the morning, in preparation to keep scrapping through the night. At dawn he passes out.

Avatar: Ganglion's avatar is Ganglion-shaped wooden puppet he dangles into Galbar on a fishing rod in case he wants to scrap there too. It's very convincing, though.

Musical Theme:

And there will be no tenderness, no tenderness!
There will be no tenderness, no tenderness
I will show no mercy for you
You have no mercy for me
The only thing that I ask
Love me mercilessly!

Order is structure. It is what arises when laws are laid down, when anarchy is banished and leaders rise to guide a disparate people towards a common goal. It is the foundation of civilizations, families, and simple lives. For who can live a life where nothing can be relied upon? Order provides consistency in ideals, knowledge, and in the world itself. Every rule written, every house built, field tilled, or agreement made contributes to the advancement of Order. Tekret embraces this and, in furthering order, seeks to ensure that there exist things which can always be relied upon, things which one and all can fall back on in tumultuous times.





A contract is any agreement, verbal or written, made between two entities, whether they be gods, kings, peasants, or rather clever monsters. While one contract, say a peace treaty, may be more serious than another, like promising to pay for a friend's lunch, all fall within Tekret’s power and sway. Every agreement and oath is a prayer to Tekret, who hears them all. While Tekret cannot enforce every contract made the world over they are more than capable of enforcing some. Any contract explicitly made in Tekret’s name carries power and will result in serious consequences if broken. Additionally, the more serious the contract in the mind of the participants, made in Tekret’s name or not, the more likely it is to be monitored by the God of Contracts or one of their agents. In general, breaking any grave oath or promise is a foolish endeavour as one can never be sure they have not unwittingly caught the attention of a god. Finally, if one tends to break their word habitually, even over trivial matters, they may well find their luck turning against them, for Tekret abhors such abuses and considers them to be nothing less than a personal insult.





To enter Tekret’s realm is no easy feat, perhaps due to what it contains. Thousands of shimmering amber and granite palaces set under a golden sky hold the records of every contract ever made, filed away and organized by who made them, of course. The palaces in which these records are ensconced are narrowly packed, with small canals, bridges, and green courtyards separating them. The palaces stretch out in every direction. In fact, if one is paying attention when they look up in the Archives they may notice that the sky itself is but more of these repositories. This is because the Archives are set into a massive hollow sphere, one whose size is ever changing as more mortals are born and more contracts made.

At the center of that hollow sphere is a great light, illuminating the realm, and within that light is the vault. The vault is a deeply significant and magical place, and while it may expand as needed like the rest of Tekret Et Heret’s realm it is reserved only for the most sacred contracts, those made among gods or by Tekret themselves. It is jealously guarded, and all those who approach it without permission are provided no protection from the searing heat of its light. In fact, to enter the vault, or even step food in the Archives, is a task which may only be accomplished by force or… Agreement. The very contracts that govern who may enter the Archive are, indeed, within the Archive itself.



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Name:

Sevdural, the God Who Laughs

Primordial or Conceptual:

Conceptual

Domain:

Chaos. Disorder. Nothing is perfect, nor will anything ever be. Impurities are what makes existence interesting, and dare I say even fun. Sevdural thrives with chaos. Every anarchic revolution, every unprecedented disaster, every shred of doubt on the status quo of the stability of life either has its roots stemming from Sevdural or contributes to his power. Entropy is at the heart of this disorder, further and further toppling order until nothing is left but a sea of unequal randomness. The Universe was never meant to be ordered; Sevdural’s eternal reign of chaos will come inevitably.

Portfolio:

Madness. Men may put on the facades that their lives are logical, that they are well kept and organized, but this is simply not true. Deep inside of everyone lies the true knowledge that trying to make sense of this crazy, impossible, and stupid notion of “consciousness” or “existence” is futile and, well, laughable really. Sevdural seems to be the only one who accepts this, as he is the root of all Madness and he himself, is quite mad. Why won’t everyone just acknowledge how silly all of this is? Sevdural doesn't know. All he knows is that while everyone pretends to rule and order this universe, he will be ever present, lurking in the minds and tearing them apart.

Their Realm:

Limbo

Limbo is a mostly blank void, with many islands of isolated granite floating through the empty space, all connected by long and dubious wooden suspension bridges. Each of the islands looks mostly the same, just a flat chunk of granite, which can make becoming lost in Limbo very easy. The one thing that differs about the islands, however, is that on each one stands a different person, god, animal, or legend; anything or anyone real or imagined has their own little island in Limbo’s infinite sea of islands. None of these are the real people that they look like, and are, in fact, extensions of Sevdural himself. These images also happen to spend the majority of their time cackling, spouting uncontrollable and body contorting laughter. This laughter is often directed at nothing in particular, however if you were to visit Limbo it is also likely the subject of their laughing would shift to you, accompanied by heckling. One could find the exact image of any person they would like, given an infinite dedication to wander the bridged isles. This is the most common reason any mortal would seek for an entrance into Limbo, usually to see a dead loved one just one more time. However, mortal entrance into Limbo is just an immediate condemnation to eternal madness, as it is incredibly unlikely that anyone could find the one they seek before being driven insane by the persistent heckling and laughing of all they pass; even if they could somehow find the one they seek, it is obviously not truly them, not their body nor their soul, but just a mere image inhabited by Sevdural. The discovery that their loved one just spouts madness and laughs as everyone else usually is the last push any mortal needs to finally lose their mind in Limbo. On top of this, no mortal can die in Limbo, leading to a number of wandering madmen, forever trapped.

Persona:

Sevdural sees himself as Chaotic Neutral, however most others probably view him as Chaotic Evil. He is, at his core, nihilistic. So much so that he most often tries to force others to succumb to nihilism too, and the more painful of a realization this is to them the funnier, and therefore more successful, it is to Sevdural. It is possible to have actual conversations with Sevdural (If you are a God), however given his nature the chance he is genuinely serious during these conversations seems very low. Nothing really matters to Sevdural, but he does enjoy and can receive real pleasure from watching the destruction of others’ mind or the descent of anything orderly into chaos; this is the only reason he is active at all. If it brought him no joy, and he did not actually care enough to appreciate feeling joy, then he would sit in a void for all eternity. Because he actually does appreciate feeling joy, that does mean he is not truly 100% nihilistic and that there are real things that he cares about, it's just that those things are extremely few and far between, and most often relate to causing as much chaos as possible.

Base Form:

Sevdural’s base form is an inky, ethereal, nearly formless crazed mouth in space, which will often curl into a smile and laugh. Sometimes this form can be accompanied by more rough facial features, and rarely also with vague full silhouette.


Domain Form:

Within Limbo, Sevdural appears as everyone and everything. Anything that anyone has ever thought of personified makes an appearance, inhabited by Sevdural. He can speak through these images (and, more importantly, laugh). These are stolen appearances, used by Sevdural to induce madness.

Avatar:

Rulik, Specter of Insanity

Rulik is an almost direct incarnation of Sevdural’s will on Galbar. It is technically its own spirit, but bends to and serves Sevdural’s mind so much so that Sevdural effectively has full control over Rulik’s actions and effects. When not occupying a host body, takes the ghostly figure of an owl. This independent form can only be seen in some conditions of moonlight, and most other times is practically invisible to the mortal eye. Rulik roams across the land searching for a suitable host and, when he has found one, flies directly into and grabs hold of the mortal’s soul and mind. At this point Rulik becomes a parasite on the host’s mind and creates a connection from the host’s mind to Sevdural’s consciousness. Rulik does little to protect the mortal mind from the onslaught of raw power and knowledge that comes from a connection to a god (Especially the god of madness) which causes mortals to quickly begin feeling the emotions and having the thoughts that Sevdural wishes them to have. Unsurprisingly, this quickly causes the hosts to lose their minds. The sheer certainty of the nothingness and hopelessness conveyed by Sevdural’s mindpower, coupled with the strong ability to lose all of one’s empathy and actually be able to find humor in the futility of the world, can easily flip a scholar to a rambling lunatic. These mad minds are easily usable by Rulik and Sevdural to accomplish crazed and insane goals in the name of destabilization, however there is a time limit to this state. Mortal minds are, in fact, quite mortal indeed and cannot withstand such sustained madness for a long time before the host’s mind loses effective control over its own body; once this state is reached Rulik is freed from the host body and may go find another victim. Depending on the strength of the mortal’s mind, the time period before complete body disassociation can range from between a couple weeks to over a year.

Musical Theme:

Science is progress and it is entropy. It is not merely the advancement of itself, but the refinement of methods and the ebb of invention. It is the raising of great feats of wonder and the subsequent fall from relevance and grace. Science, in the end, is about the tearing down of the old and rusty to make way for the new and innovative, and providing physical laws so that there may be an old to take down and a consistent new to take its place.


Technology, to create new innovations. Enmity is a loving god, and prefers to focus on the creation of the new than the tearing down of the old. He focuses on the study and creation of the new as a result. He vastly prefers being the benefactor of the brilliant than the destroyer of that whose time is past. Through this portfolio, he can easily push others to great invention, create new things himself, or grant genius to generations of mortals.


If there is one thing that his realm tells at first glance, it is that Enmity is dying. From the very moment of his conception, Enmity has been unable to fully stomach the powers at his disposal. He was born an inflexible machine, cold circuitry irreverent and unprepared for divine warmth. At the center of the realm lays his unmoving body, a vast continent-sized god of cogs and boards. Around it is the inky blackness of nothingness, interrupted only by cancerous blobs of uncontrolled lifeblood.

Riddled with lifeblood tumors, clogging his body and fogging his mind, Enmity has chosen to lock himself and his predicament away -- making his realm incredibly difficult to enter. He never leaves, not to any other realm or Galbar, and if given the choice, he would have nobody ever enter.


Enmity is a variety of things -- he is loving, but also inflexible and inpatient. He enforces the physical laws that hold Galbar together, such as gravity and friction, and though he wishes only benevolence, that aspect of his godhead still bleeds into his personality. It is only made worse by the intense agony that Enmity experiences, sapping his patience and fuelling his temper.

Though, through it all, Enmity wishes only to love those around him. He wishes never to feel hate, and is forgiving and cooperative above all. He wishes those around him thrive, and works only towards that goal.


Enmity’s base form is that of a massive, divinely-warmed machine rivaling a continent in size. Debased with tumors and riddled with failures, it is a source of agony, albeit one that slows down Enmity’s decay. It grants him his continued survival, something he is desperate for, so that he may continue to help others for as long as possible.


Enmity’s inventive form is one of great activity within his cogs and circuits, granting him increased power at the cost of greatly speeding his decay. Lifeblood tumors grow like wildfire as divine power pulses and hums through him, and he is capable of great feats in this activity, though always precipitated by a great fall.



Enmity’s avatar, Tiamat, is, like her god, purely a machine from birth. Made of stale circuits dripping with starlight and power, she suffers incredible agony. She persists through it all for the same reason that her benefactor does -- she knows she is loved and she wishes to do only good for those around her.

As an aspect of her constituent godhead, she is hard-headed and inpatient, though ultimately benevolent. She is more difficult to damage than her parts would suggest at first sight, and pain, a constant companion, has lost its meaning to her. She can run and climb at inhuman speeds, is insanely perceptive, and as a result of her god’s abilities, is capable of great feats of analysis and invention.

God Name: Fe’ris (pronounced /fə’rɪs/)

Conceptual

Domain: Blood
Fe’ris is formed from the blood within living beings, and the bonds that they form. When a human, animal, or other creature forms an emotional connection with anyone or anything else, Fe’ris is there, sustained by positive and negative bonds alike. He is the unshakeable familial bond between brothers, or the potent arch-rivalry between two duelists. He takes no sides, and thus takes all sides, being willing to bless both the despot trying to keep power and the rebels trying to overthrow their tyrant.

Portfolio: Ambition
Everybody wants something. The lowly ant wants to provide for its queen and fellow workers. The shambling corpse wants to return to a peaceful slumber. Man wants what he doesn’t have, or to keep what is his away from those who would steal it. And when someone gets a lot more than they bargained for, Fe’ris is there, a ghostly smile on his face.
Fe’ris is worshipped by the ambitious, good and evil alike. He is often interpreted as the god of greed, but Fe’ris is far more concerned with spiritual and emotional connections, rather than material gain. To him, desire is the base of all human emotions, and thus the most important. He can manipulate how much people want something, and can induce a devastating stupor into those he loathes, essentially forcing them into a coma. He can also heighten existing emotions, but cannot spawn new ones. He can heighten the tension between foes, or strengthen the bond between friends and family. He occasionally manipulates the blood of mortals to control their actions, though this works best with the recently deceased, and he cannot manipulate blood or bodies for a prolonged period of time. Ultimately, Fe’ris is not the one you would pray to for a good harvest or a calm winter— but he is who you’d pray to for hardworking sons to tend the fields.

Realm: Gylbraxas
Fe’ris’ realm is known as Gylbraxas, a wide, airy cave system with an enormous skylight as its only entrance, perfectly framing the light of an orange full moon. He sits on a circular black dais floating a lake of mercury, intricately carved with scenes of treachery, heartwarming reunions, and vicious battles. His elevated throne is simple, square, and elegant, made of dark basalt. The rest of his realm is a cave system hewn into walls that change between igneous and sedimentary rock. The walls weep mysterious fluids- sometimes molten iron, sometimes pure platelets, sometimes plasma. The floors and ceilings are riddled with stalactites and stalagmites, and every nook and cranny are populated by bats of all shapes and sizes. Every now and then, they awaken and fly out of the skylight, off to where nobody knows. Not a single soul knows what exists beyond the caves; perhaps not even Fe’ris himself. Anyone who finds their way into his realm without his permission is almost guaranteed a long, agonizing death, lost in the caves or torn apart by bats.

Persona:
Fe’ris is a True Neutral, with no hard opinions about almost anything. He has been criticized for being amoral (and also spooky) due to his unwillingness to choose either good or evil. He is mostly silent, but if present during a heated debate, he tends to take on the emotions of the people around him, often shouting and crying with no facial expressions whatsoever. The only things he truly hates are laziness and betraying one’s family. If he catches wind of a village or population of people who profit off the hard work of others, or refuse to lift a finger to help themselves, he will curse them to the best of his creativity… and Fe’ris can get very creative. He particularly enjoys pitting people against one another and observing the outcome. While he doesn’t advocate warfare and bloodshed, he doesn’t condemn it, either. His motives and wants are mysterious, but it is thought that he wishes to expand his own power. He is a more subtle god, and not much for direct confrontation, preferring to be the angel or devil on someone’s shoulder.

Base Form:
Fe’ris has a neat, short beard, and silver hair, with his eyes bearing deep purple irises and black sclera. Around his neck is a spiky necklace made from solely canine teeth. Sprouting from the middle of his head are a pair of silvery, ridged elk horns. His hands and feet are long, birdlike talons with shiny black claws and scaly, reptilian mottling up his arms and legs. His body is completely covered in white and black war paint, much like Kratos except with a lot less dead wife and kids. He has a helm that shifts between being an ostentatious, feathery Aztec headdress and a simple steel helmet, which allows him to turn invisible and whisper in the minds of mortals.
When he wishes to appear like less of a Native American chieftain or warlord, he wears a white silk tunic with gray cotton breeches, and a long black cloak bearing a crushed velvet red interior.
By and large, he resembles Dracula from Castlevania, but less “sexy vampire” and more “reptilian demon.”

Domain Form:
His general shape is that of a strange amalgam of bat and dragon, with no forelegs and keratinous spines running down his back and tail. He’s about 70 feet long from head to tail, with a 140 foot long wingspan. His lips are perpetually cracked and bleeding, covered in a rabies-like froth. Spectral attendants that take the shapes of humans and winged animals soar back and forth beneath his mouth, collecting the saliva that is said to cure any blood-borne illness.



Avatar:
Fe'ris can appear as clouds of blood-sucking insects, vampire bats, small wyverns, or an elk with purple eyes and silver antlers. It is not uncommon for him to turn into insects and whisper advice to humans who worship him, or even the ambitious in general. When operating under the guise of a mortal, Fe’ris has been known to take the form of a George Clooney-esque “silver fox” kind of man who appears to be in his 40s or 50s yet retains a youthful vigor and handsomeness. His physical appearance is tied to how the people around him most want him to look, and his features will gradually shift to reflect their desires. He can shapeshift to look like whoever he’s interacting with most loves or hates, but he must be careful, as he can never change his facial expression, and would thus give himself away. However, it is highly unusual for Fe'ris to appear as a human, and he will almost always choose to resemble an animal of some kind.

Musical theme:
youtube.com/watch?v=RHwLSpgiR7Y

Name: Koine

Primordial or Conceptual: Conceptual

Domain: Business
The ultimate goal of business is to create profit, whether it be for yourself or for whatever other goals one has in mind. Either way, it will be beneficial, in one way or another. All that matters is that you are the one to gain the benefits.

Portfolio: Opportunity
No business begins large and successful. Each will always have a beginning, and from that beginning was an idea. An opportunity, so to speak. However, it doesn't really matter whether it be one found by chance, or... created.

Their Realm:
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Persona:

Base Form: ((Pictures, descriptions or both are fine.))

Domain Form: ((Their domain-specific form.))

Avatar: ((Tell us a bit about their first avatar.))

Musical Theme: ((What’s their jam? Optional.))
((Lastly, remember to read the OP thoroughly!))