[hider=Cupid, Love's Arrow][center]
[sup][h1]
[color=black]C U P I D ,  G O D  O F  L O V E [/color]
[color=#f882a9]C U P I D ,  G O D  O F  L O V E[/color]
[/h1][/sup]
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[hider=HUMAN][color=#f882a9][u] 𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗔𝗦 [/u][/color]
[color=gray]Dante DeLuca[/color]
[color=#f882a9][u] 𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 [/u][/color]
[color=gray]32-34[/color]
[color=#f882a9][u] 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗥 [/u][/color]
[color=gray]Private Investigator[/color][/hider][/center][/cell][cell][center][color=#f882a9][u] 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 [/u][/color]
[table][row][/row][row][cell][color=black]𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫
[list][*] Amicable & Cunning
[*] Shrewd & Persistent
[*] Confident & Patient[/list][/color][/cell][cell][color=black]𝑩𝑨𝑫
[list][*] Vengeful & Malicious
[*] Meddling & Morose
[*] Antagonistic & Cruel[/list][/color][/cell][/row][/table]
[color=#f882a9][u] 𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 [/u][/color][/center]
[color=gray][sup]To what ambitions does a Roman have but to find themselves atop their highest peak? For Cupid's zenith lies in bitterness aching to break the monotony of mortality. In doing so, he wishes to grasp one simple thing beyond the feathers of his wings: truth. Why the honesty of love breaks its bonds so easily.

Only in that answer will he find Rome's glory. Nothing more and nothing less.[/sup][/color]
[center][color=#f882a9][u] 𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 [/u][/color][/center]
[color=gray][sup]Color vibrated through his world in dazzling arrays only to lose itself in the throws of a bitter apple. As a god of love, he faced his fear in reality: that the beauty of love could fall from grace. Now that fear finds itself rooted in never redeeming love in his own eyes.

He fears that not even Janus could dash his silver tongue along a beautiful lie. Though he wishes the snake would, even if the color isn't truly there. Even if the beauty was born of falsehoods.[/sup][/color]
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[hider=DEITY][color=#f882a9][u] 𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗬 [/u][/color]
[color=gray]Cupid[/color]
[color=#f882a9][u] 𝗗𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 [/u][/color]
[color=gray]God of Desire, Love, and Attraction[/color]
[color=#f882a9][u] 𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗡 [/u][/color]
[color=gray]Roman[/color][/hider][/center][/cell][/row][/table]
[center][color=#f882a9][u] 𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬 [/u][/color][/center]
[indent][indent][quote][color=gray]Venus possessed not only one child in Aeneas, but one birthed in the throes of war as well: Cupid. A boy and his bow of three arrow tips of gold, silver, and steel. From the benign smite to the barbed steel of obsession. Yet, Rome felt not his poison, but of the abundance of his love, naive as it was, through times of peace and times of war. Cupid provided the respite in victory crowned in the wreathes of his mother, or the sorrows of defeat that came few and far between.

For Rome, Cupid was the white winged grace that flew above them with a love never found wanting. Passion and compassion lined each tip of his arrows, sunken into the hearts of Romans by bidding of his mother. For Rome deserved naught but the most unconditional, divine love that the gods could grace them. That, Cupid found his truth. In love that is unshakable did Rome's pillars erect themselves and Cupid stood atop them, awaiting tired warriors home to soothe the ache of muscles and embrace the sweet nectar Rome provided them.[/color][/quote][/indent][/indent]

[center][color=#f882a9][u] 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 [/u][/color][/center]
[indent][indent][quote][color=gray]Yet, love and its concept found itself tainted in moors and swamps of bitter hatred. Wings snipped and tossed to the seas of mortals, Cupid found his godhood had afforded him nothing but lies that sat heavy on his tongue. Lies that asked his own life of him.

Love in this world had soured.

Yet, had that spoiled vision wrought itself in their absence? Or had the mist of nectar and ambrosia taint his eyes in a pink haze to obscure the roots of hate that sank deep in the very soul of passion?

Cupid lost himself to these questions, sequestered beyond the reach of his mother's arms or his father's stone gaze. It bit him, bitter and aching like a festering wound that sank its teeth in the beating of his newly human heart. Humans reveled in the thing they called love like pigs to the mud, swimming in the filth like it were truly the foam of the sea. It burned him. The cheating, the obsessions, the repugnant lies told in good faith, in betrayal and hurt. In what should have been unconditional only founded in ivy chains of poisonous wrath.

Thus Cupid found himself at the mercy of his own vile mind. Cupid, the demon, malicious and vengeful, dawned in the bones of the Roman empire. Poison tipped arrows ripped the desires from people, the truth in their desires, the malice that plagued them. There Theodulf found him, penned in book, a demon with wings spread wide and torch held high, arrows laced with humanity's ignominy for all to see.

Yet not a soul could place blame upon the man who sowed his way through courts and kings, bearing their sins to the world that their blood would soak the soiled earth they walked on. Wherever the Colossus allowed him, the nobles would fear the cold, grey of his eyes as it unraveled each and every shame that brought their names crumbling to the ground.

As the years tolled on, however, the demonic Cupid lost to the endless tide of human sin. No matter how hard he raged against the coast, the waves would throw him right back. Thus, Cupid soured to the taste of vengeance. Thus, he fell to the monotony of time breaking down his life into the bare essentials, feet chained the path the Colossus carved into the earth.

Each stop his fear grew stronger, his questions narrowing down to the one he wished to know the most. Yet, not a soul save a few could answer. The Fates, however, were not kind to him, were not kind to anyone, and thus Greece could keep them. Cupid never left square one in all the millennia he'd spent here, even in Seattle now burned by the monotony of life and the ever growing tired of faithless heathens.

Rome would not have him, not until Cupid satisfied his quest. Not until the sins of man could tell him why they did what they did. Why they tortured love so, burned it, and tossed it to the sharks. [/color]

[right][sup][color=#f882a9]He just wanted... he just wanted his lie back.[/color][/sup][/right][/quote][/indent][/indent][/hider]

[color=gray][hider=Máni, Man on the Moon][center]
[sup][h1]
[color=black]M Á N I ,  G O D  O F  T H E  M O O N[/color] 
[color=#ADD8E6]M Á N I ,  G O D  O F  T H E  M O O N[/color]
[/h1][/sup]
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[hider=HUMAN][color=#ADD8E6][u] 𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗔𝗦 [/u][/color]
[color=gray]Sherman Ian Munson[/color]
[color=#ADD8E6][u] 𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 [/u][/color]
[color=gray]Mid 30s[/color]
[color=#ADD8E6][u] 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗥 [/u][/color]
[color=gray]Addiction Therapist; runs a small Astronomer's Club; author of some Sci-Fi YA novels under the psuedonym [i][color=#ADD8E6]Manny Vargr[/color][/i][/color][/hider][/center][/cell][cell][center][color=#ADD8E6][u] 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 [/u][/color]
[table][row][/row][row][cell][color=black]𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫
[list][*] Eloquent & Observant
[*] Reliable & Professional
[*] Honest & Jovial[/list][/color][/cell][cell][color=black]𝑩𝑨𝑫
[list][*] Irreverent & Flippant
[*] Blunt & Snide
[*] Selfish & Inconsiderate[/list][/color][/cell][/row][/table]
[color=#ADD8E6][u] 𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 [/u][/color][/center]
[color=gray][sup]Freedom and safety, from Ragnarok, from the Æsir and Vanir, from the wolf clicking at his heels. That security drives him to an almost obsession. Alone in the sky with a sister just out of reach and a wolf destined to swallow you whole should have made any man crazy. Yet, he counted the days until his feet could stop carrying him along the inky tides and now that those days have come, he isn't wont to let that go.[/sup][/color]
[center][color=#ADD8E6][u] 𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 [/u][/color][/center]
[color=gray][sup]It is not the wolf  that haunts his dreams for that feels an inevitability. The wolf, Hati, provided an escape for him, that when the time came he could finally stop the endless trails through the lonely sky and find solace in sharp teeth against his neck. No, the isolation drove him toward the precipice of madness plenty of times and seeing his sister wheel herself against the sky drew him back every time.

What does a moon fear the most but the emptiness of a night sky, devoid of stars, of the earth, of the warmth of hands around him? Loneliness pierces his lunar heart, over and over again, until it dashes him against the horizon.[/sup][/color]
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[hider=DEITY][color=#ADD8E6][u] 𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗬 [/u][/color]
[color=gray]Máni[/color]
[color=#ADD8E6][u] 𝗗𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 [/u][/color]
[color=gray]Personification of the (Norse) Moon[/color]
[color=#ADD8E6][u] 𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗡 [/u][/color]
[color=gray]Norse[/color][/hider][/center][/cell][/row][/table]
[center][color=#ADD8E6][u] 𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬 [/u][/color][/center]
[indent][indent][quote]In old Norse mythology, the moon called himself Mani, named by his father Mundilfari. Though the moon and the sun still hung in the sky at their birth, Mundilfari's love and pride toward his children doomed them the second their names slipped his tongue. Máni, the moon, and Sól, the sun, cast to the sky for that arrogance perceived by the gods that they would be the heavenly bodies their father named them. Hiding their malice in duty, they tasked Mani and Sol to count the days for men below.

Yet, Mani knew, looking down from his track in the heavens, that no duty could veil the punishment. Anger took him first, at the gods' lies and wickedness, that they'd cast children to the sky to run for all eternity. Yet, that soon melted away into sadness, deep and lonely melancholy that tore his heart to twine. Not even the hateful snaps of teeth at his heels could break the endless cycle of solitude that filled the void of his infinite skies.

Though, to see his sister, still wheeling, still turning, yet still unknown to her own struggles, willed Mani to trek forward until time came that his blood would paint the heavens.[/quote][/indent][/indent]

[center][color=#ADD8E6][u] 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 [/u][/color][/center]
[indent][indent][quote]The Colossus ended all of that, broke Ragnarok in twain and reached its hands to wretch him from the moon.

Confusion blended into a sense of freedom that never graced itself upon the moon god. Mani had never felt the rest of his feet against solid ground, nor the feel of his cheek against hot stone. While other gods bent to turmoil, Mani allowed himself to breathe in the splendor of escaping a cage he thought unbreakable. He knew then, with his hands grasping the Turkish soil and his eyes lifting to the moon that still hung steadfast in the sky, that at least some semblance of the prophecy that tied him to the heavens broke.

Happiness gripped him for the first time in a long time and he spent it in the squalor of the world before him, unable to do much but beg and eat and plow what fields he could. It didn't matter to him that money came scarce and his stomach curled in on itself more times than he could count. At least he could feel it all, visceral and unyielding in his heart.

It took him awhile, however, to begin his search for his sister. If he could fall from the heavens so easily, then perhaps the Colossus would grasp Sol, as well. Still, anxiety gripped him. Their time together had been short and their time a part felt like the infinite years between stars. The pull to find her tugged at him, yet he denied it for so long, resigned to live among the humans that counted their days in the stars.

From there, Mani spent his mortality taking his freedom and letting it push him through each current of air, along pools of water, through hot mouths, under the shadow of his once brilliant, lonely moon. He ran molten magma burning through the crust of his own body, bursting from his veins in a multitude of fashions. Michaelangelo burned a vision of him into the Sistine Chapel, Abberline cleaved him in the face in a pub brawl, days and nights melded together until the excitement simmered into a slow broil.

Care and caution needed to be taken as an immortal being and perhaps he found himself stalking one too many alleyways at night, scaring the odd stranger by pure accident through a century or two. Dracula certainly couldn't be attributed to him, but perhaps a few vampire scares in the larger cities the Colossus planted them in might've, perhaps been his fault. Name changes happened, identities and outfits fully formed, and Mani let himself cool down.

Still, even in Seattle now with, he found himself yearning for that rush of life that he so cherished. He did it carefully, this time, let himself walk along a high-bridge of his making rather than just some loose rope. Maybe he'd get berated a few times for pushing boundaries too willingly, but it's easy to get lost in it all. It's easy to let the loneliness creep back so that adrenaline needed to get pumping again to stave it off. Fear wouldn't follow him, not after so many years.[/quote][/indent][/indent][/hider][/color]