[centre][img]https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/divinus-mk4/images/3/3b/Afc6efa58bae4f9c3be8ed679a7ac131.png/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/310?cb=20200229065521[/img] [h2]Gibbou[/h2] [/centre] Gibbou had fun watching Twilight flop around in the water on his third day of swimming. There was something satisfying about watching that little dumby try out some repentance for once. Truth be told, though, she had no idea what to make him do once he actually reached Kubrajzar. She had brainstormed some punishments, sure, like counting the number of sand grains on the beach he’d make landfall on, or by writing “I hate Neiya” one hundred times in that same sand. Perhaps she’d make him do both. She poured herself a drink - thinking up punishments for that two-faced scoundrel was thirsty work. Her environment didn’t help much either - there are many ways to describe the surface of her moon, and ‘humid’ isn’t one of them. She sat in a somewhat cold and stiff armchair facing the planet below, feet resting upon a frozen cushion. There, she sipped on her magical cup which kept the liquid inside it cool, yet fluid, despite the much cooler and non-fluid objects outside of it. This cup was at least in the top five of the most convenient things she’d ever made. Granted, in terms of convenience, it was unclear whether things she had made could even number more than five, or five at all. It was a sad thought, and one she tried intently to dismiss as soon as it popped into her head. As is the case with thoughts one wants to disappear, however, thinking about it only made it stronger and stronger until she plopped her face into her hands, shooting a hopeless groan through the blue straw sticking into her glass. She knew she had talked to Oraelia about her feelings of uselessness, and sure, it’d been nice - really, really nice - to have someone to just talk to about them. However… [colour=lightblue]”Why am I such a useless goddess?!”[/colour] she shouted into the void. A void response was all she received in return. She groaned again and emptied her cup. She would have to regain her honour as a goddess… She needed to stop making all these no-good, hopeless species and artifacts that were either so specific that they could never be used, or so broad that there would be no way to control them! She conjured for herself another drink and gave it a stern sip. Something truly awesome would be her next project… It’d need to be bigger an better than anything she had made before. She took another sip. Yes, bigger, better - something to show mortality just what she’s all about - a peaceful night’s sleep! Yeah! That would surely fix up her image, and maybe even do some good for her own psyche, too! She’d just make enough helpful stuff for people to forget all about the trolls and the vampires and the sword and… The train of thought made her finish her drink and conjure forth a new one. She eyed her cup, noticing that it has been joined by a twin just like it, oddly enough held by her second left hand. She noticed her skin feeling hotter than usual, and her face feeling oddly itchy. Eh, it would probably pass any minute. She’d talked to Oraelia now and was a responsible goddess now! She wouldn’t repeat that one time - no way! [hr] [colour=lightblue]”Aaaan’... Baaazoooooom!”[/colour] shouted Gibbou with a cackle. Down on Galbar, specifically in the jungles of Kubrajzar, there popped into existence a blue, snake-like dragon with a great, blue mane that waved in the air like a drunken fire. On its face, it wore a mask, on its head grew black antlers, and its hands were soft, fluffy paws. It was soon joined by more like it, with little hatchlings rolling around on the forest floor. Nearby, an Itztli huntress dropped their spear in fright and slowly backed away. One of the adult dragons caught sight of her, eyeing her hungrily. The huntress spun around and tried to run, but the dragon soared off after her, floating just above the ground like some sort of ghost. The Itztli tripped over a root in her panic and crashed into the ground. With the dragon fast approaching, she screamed for help and her life passed before her eyes - her family, friends, lovers, enemies - all of them filled her mind in her last moments before the dragon caught her. … Except it wouldn’t be her last moments. In fact, the huntress found herself very much alive and, surprisingly enough, growing increasingly calm. There was an odd sensation around her torso, as though she was bound by some sort of thick rope. She dared open her eyes to investigate, only to stare the masked dragon in the face. She would have gasped, but her body just didn’t seem to find the whole ordeal stressful at all. The dragon titled its head to the side and the Itztli looked down to further survey her situation. The dragon was hugging her, and that in a very sweet, friendly way. It was the sort of hug that is perfect no matter the situation - it just made her feel safe and at peace. The dragon’s skin was warm and soft; it wasn’t covered in reptilian scales, but dow-like fur; it purred softly like a cat, too, which only made her drowsier. It didn’t take long for her lids to grow heavy and for her to realise just how intense today’s hunt had been. As her body grew heavier with exhaustion, the dragon gently laid itself under her and curled up around her. There, the Itztli slept soundly, all the stress and worry in her body seeping out and feeding the dragon underneath her. When the Itztli woke again the following morning, she had been left on the forest floor, a thin nest of blue hair forming a mattress underneath her. She touched her head - that night’s sleep had been almost too good. She looked around for the beast that had, uh, attacked her the night before. However, they were all completely gone. She plucked at some of the fur and gave it a smell, comparing its scent to that of the surroundings. After searching for them for an hour or so, she shook her head in sadness. Those would’ve been amazing to keep around after a hard day’s work. [hr] [colour=lightblue]”Boohee,”[/colour] giggled the moon goddess with a snort. [colour=lightblue]”Issha sho kyoooooot! Oh-boo-boo-boooo!”[/colour] She reached out to pat it, only to realise she was staring at a projection of the dragon.This bummed her out, so she mixed herself another drink, right before realising she could conjure forth one just like it in her realm. So she did (making certain, of course, to give it the necessary traits to survive the vacuum and temperature of space), and it immediately proceeded to pack the goddess tightly into its coiling body, its soundless purring reverberating through Gibbou’s body as opposed to the air. GIbbou was far from done, however. [colour=lightblue]”Yesh! More! More kyootsie fhungsss!”[/colour] She waved her hand just as her forehead crashed into the Dormiron’s furry tail with a ‘puh’. [hr] In the deep jungles of the Mydian island of Whakarongo, along the coast where the lands grew humid and warm, an odd, fluffy flower popped out of the sand. Its bloom was a grayish black, fuzzy nob connected to a thick, dark green step which also sported a circular crown of green leaves which seemed to redden at the tip. A nearby Akua couple were walking along the beach picking empty seashells. They exchanged flirty jokes and giggles at one another there in the warm, beautiful sunset. “... Oh, Tonga, you can’t say those things!” giggled Moana. Tonga smirked back and picked up a shell which had flushed in all the way to the tree line, not too far away from the flower. His smirk became a wide smile and he waved with playful dismissiveness at her comment. “Well, it’s true! You know [sub]his mother is...[/sub]” His voice faded as he was talking, and he hadn’t quite noticed it himself before he saw Moana’s eye-roll and smirk. “Oh, so now you can’t say it?” [i]Say what?[/i] was what Tonga tried to say, but while his lips moved and his vocal cords vibrated, nothing came out. He grabbed his own throat and he saw Moana was starting to frown. “Tonga, are you [sub]alri...[/sub]?” she approached, arm outstreched. Tonga pointed at her and tried to shout something, but nothing came out. Moana froze in fear - Tonga’s every movement and body signal had indicated that his words would’ve been loud enough to give a Night Elf tinnitus, but what actually came out had been completely void of sound - to the point where she doubted even a Night Elf with celestial blessings could hear it. She tried to respond, both she, too, was silent. Terrified, the two of them ran back homewards, but after running for about fifteen paces, they realised they could hear each other panting. They embraced one another in relief and stared back at the forest in horror. “What was that?! Some kind of spell?” whimpered Moana. “I don’t know…” Meanwhile, the little, black flower licked its metaphorical lips. It had been fed ample amounts of sound, and was now ready to spread out across the forest! [hr] [colour=lightblue][i]What shall we do with the drunken Gibbou? What shall we do with the drunken Gibbou? What shall we do with the drunken Gibbou Earlay in tha’ evenin’!”[/i][/colour] The moon goddess whooped and grabbed a salted peanut from a pile she had conjured forth on the lunar surface next to her. She flicked it up into the air and tried to catch it with her mouth. She failed miserably and it landed in her open eye. She scream and waved around clumsily with enough intensity to wave up the Dormiron she was sleeping on. In her flurry, she cast a bolt out of her hands, which soared down to the surface of Galbar. She stopped and eyed its destination - it was in the middle of the Anchor Mountains. With a ‘prrt!’ of the lips, she snickered. No harm done. [hr] High up in the World Anchor, in the great halls of Thunder the Mountain King, sat that ancient monster whose attack on humanity had been the first, flanked on each side by his two favourite spawn: Quake and Crush, both equally skilled in manhunting, and worthy successors of the Cragking Crown. In total, he had spawned perhaps six spawn, but two had been lost to the Eye of Death, one had gone for a trip up north and never come back, and another had gone south… And never come back. Truly, there was no respect in being a father. The whole cave quaked for a moment, and all three of them wondered for a moment if it was -that- time again. However, the quakes stopped as suddenly as they had come, and they all looked up to see that something had broken through their stone-sealed door. It was a pair of glasses, glass black as night. However, they were trapped in the middle of a deadly solar ray beaming in through their doorway. Thunder had an age-old rivalry with the sun - he was not about to lose now. He clapped his favouritest spawn, Quake, on the shoulder. The smaller dovregubbe, barely a millennium old and just having regrown his shoulder forest after it was shed off to make some spawn of his own, flashed a frown of reluctance at his father. However, all dovregubbes knew that, when it came to their hierarchy, none could defy the Mountain King - that was just a rule of nature. With quivering legs that hadn’t moved for months, Quake rose up to his full sixteen metres, stretching out for a moment. Then, with rabbit steps, he snuck over to the glasses in the light. With deft patience honed for a millennium, he waited for the sun to be blocked out by a cloud. He waited and waited, and waited some more. There! While the sun dipped behind a cloud, he knelt down to pick up the object. However! Just as he did, the sun peeked back out. Instinctively, he brought his hands to his eyes, putting the glasses on his nose. Crush rocketed to his feet in shock, and Thunder, who hadn’t risen for two hundred years, felt age old eyelids that had barely moved since he last moved, part in sheer disbelief. There, his spawn Quake, stood in full sunlight, wearing a pair of black-glassed glasses. Quake’s lip quivered - he hadn’t died. He hurried back into the safety of the dark and the three trolls inspected this artifact closely, and tested it out more in the following days. Indeed, it made it almost as though whatever reality was, their bodies experienced the world as night. The three trolls exchanged wicked smirks. Maybe it was about time to extend the reach of the Cragking Crown? [hr] Gibbou squinted her blurred vision down at the mountains. [colour=lightblue]”Waaait a minuzz… Ain’t that wher…”[/colour] A hiccup made her forget her train of thought. [colour=lightblue]”Dunmatta, mo’ stuffz!”[/colour] The Dormiron was beginning to feel uncomfortably full - the goddess just seemed to ooze out more and more excitement. She bounced up and down in her soft seat and ‘thought’ about what to make next. She made narrow eyes at Ha-Dûna, that most amiable of villages. [colour=lightblue]”Bet bein’ mortal muzz be hard, huh, misser dargon.”[/colour] The Dormiron gave her what could be approximated to be a frown. Gibbou cracked up her fingers and snapped her fingers. [colour=lightblue]”Lez dere be PEEEEEEEAAAACE!”[/colour] [hr] Down in Ha-Dûna, a number of peasants and druids suddenly got the strangest idea to head out into the meadow in search of a very specific weed. This weed was collected, sampled and replanted, with a small portion being sent off to dry. Plants and logs of wood were turned into pipes of various shapes and sizes, and the whole town started smelling faintly of burnt weed as its citizens breathes deep in the plant’s calming smokes. The pipeweed was immediately made into a pastime for the peasants in between shifts at the farm, as they would meet up with their neighbours to crack a joke, drink some milk and have a smoke. The druid apprentices became ample users, the curriculum of their education much too stressful to study without at least something for the nerves. The druids and archdruids eventually just joined in because everyone else was doing it. The druids brought this culture around wherever they went, as well as a little extra to barter for food and shelter whenever the local chiefs were a little harder to negotiate with. With that, Ha-Dûna enjoyed the sensation that would be known as the peace pipe. [hr] [colour=lightblue]”PHEW!”[/colour] whooped Gibbou and flung her hands victoriously in the air as she fell back on her dragon cushion. She had done it. She had made the world a better place. She should drink like this more often - it made her such a great goddess! The fatigue of the dragon’s meal, the alcohol and the power spent began to sink in, and Gibbou nearly fell asleep. However, in the last minute, she jumped out of the dragon’s grasp and made herself another drink. [colour=lightblue]”No, no, party ain’t over yeeeet!”[/colour] She threw her arms in the air and screamed. [colour=lightblue]”GO HARD OR GO HOME!”[/colour] And hard, she went. [hider=What the fuck am I even writing anymore?] Gibbou gets wasted and makes dragons that eat stress by hugging people, flowers that eat sound, one pair of shades that allow trolls to walk out during the day, and teaches Ha-Dûnans, and probably the rest of Western Toraan, to grow and smoke weed. [/hider] [hider=MP Spendage!] Gibbou 5MP/5DP 3DP: Create Dormirons, an extraordinary species of nocturnal dragon that feed upon people’s stress, unrest and terror, leaving only peace and calm behind. They feed by trapping their victims in an inescapable hug (inescapable due to its extreme comfort) and sap away the unpeaceful and rowdy emotions the prey carries at the moment. If allowed to feed for long enough, the prey will eventually fall asleep, at which point the Dormiron will make them a mattress out of some of their fur to keep them comfortable as they retreat from the dawn. This species is incredibly rare and migratorial across the world, so to see one is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. ⅗ for Peace port. 1MP: Create Voidwillies, a small, black-bloomed flower that consumes the sound produced around it in order to grow and reproduce. Whatever produces the sound within a certain range will find itself acting as though the sound was made, only to find that nothing comes out. ⅘ for Peace port. 2DP: Create artifact - [b]The Shades of Eternal Night:[/b] Nightworld II: The user of this artifact, no matter the place or time of day, will experience the world around them as though it was night as long as the artifact is in use. 1MP: Teach the people of Ha-Dûna to grow, harvest and consume calming pipeweed that helps them calm their nerves. 5/5 for Peace port. 3MP: Snatch Peace port - [b]Peace:[/b] Gibbou achieves mastery of peace and quiet, granting her the ability to dampen sound, light and conflict more easily. While she cannot use this power to annihilate these things completely, she can turn screams into whispers, make brightness into dimness, and tranquilise bloodthirsty mortals and beasts. In essence, this power allows her to bring something from an energetic and unruly state to a calmer and peaceful one. None of these situations are necessarily permanent, but all can be made into a moment of peace. Gibbou end: 0MP/0DP [/hider]