The Grey Dust

Stretchers, Stethoscopes, and Scalpels: A Hospital RP

May I reserve a Neurology Night-Float?

Oh My Gods!

We need more posts XD

Oh My Gods!

Zhystkrexas has made his plan.

Oh My Gods!

Faith.

The greatest lie of them all. The favored whisper of an empty promise uttered by false lips. Echoed by the blind and deaf, who saw not beyond the veil of deception, and heard not the caution of those before them. It was the wicked venom, the most poisonous draught to quaff, for in moments such fervor and ecstasy would seize the mind. Dulling the senses by the euphoria that was the fool's bargain, a life of suffering meant a divine reward for surely the gods had a plan. For by faith there was a meaning to the torment, a reason to live on and endure the hardships in life praising the gods for all their glory. There was the serpent's lie, that the gods in fact cared. Come winter's end, the heartless immortals remained as cold as the frozen rivers and silent as the snow-hushed hills. The rare game and blighted crop, the famine which spread like fire, death reaped the baleful harvest. Yet still, the spirit of faith clung on to the bitter end. Still life struggles, squirming, groveling before the shrines of their perfect idols offering what little could be spared. Food and sacrifices, prayers of hope and faith, pleas and deals of desperation. But man could not dine on their unanswered prayers.

But he can. Seated upon his high throne Zhystkrexas the Lord of Hunger clamped his jaws into the ruby apple held in his hand. A salivating tongue glided across his glistening teeth, collecting the juices from the crisp flesh. His hunger insatiable, his stomach an endless pit, teeth as sharp as his tongue was smooth, and among the essentials he was the necessary evil of being. Born from the first want; Zhystkrexas was hunger, a desire for something more, the impetus of a drive. Without him, all would stagnate, there would be no will to eat nor drink, no desire to fornicate and breed, no motivation to aspire for anything more than what was given by the graces of the gods. But by his hand, the terrible things that consumed them, pushed into excess until they too could no longer sate their desires, turning want into need. With each bite, the brand of teeth across the apple, He turned the world into the reflection of what Zhystkrexas was: All-Consuming Hunger.

His celestial throne within the second circle befitted his title, stylized by the regalia of his hidden horror. A gilding of gold across the skeletal remains of some great beast, bones gnawed at and brushed with a vainglorious luster as if to conceal the barbaric truth with refined art. There unknown creature's opened skull became a bowl for the apples, serving the ravenous lord his meal such that he may continually eat despite the gathering of gods. As was his nature, which tormented his existence, twisting his mind into not ruling of his dominion, but letting it rule over him. There was once a time where he regulated and moderated the hunger, but now the Zhystkrexas that sat before the rest of them was a perversion of his original self. It was inevitable that the role consumed him, and now perhaps he longed to make the others suffer the same as misery desires company most. It was his influence that tainted the court, and now he sought to plant the seeds to devour the fruits of his patient labour. A new era demanded a new pantheon.

And once planted, he may return to sowing his design in the mortal plane. Favours and allies to claim by the pacts made upon this council floor with his fellow immortals. Then he shall come to the mortals like a messiah to the broken, savior of their lives to bless them with a bounty to feed their hungry mouths. And by the gnashing of teeth, tongues shall confess to the praises of Zhystkrexas, and offer themselves to him like flies to honey by faith. It was his modus operandi: to alleviate the very suffering he created. For the ancient demon-god knew that honey did far better than vinegar to gather flies, but none more so than rotting meat. They would devour it all the same, and poison themselves so willing.

See what faith he can bestow up you?

Oh My Gods!

Zhystkrexas, the Corrupter

Name Zhystkrexas, the Corrupter

Essential
DOMAIN Hunger

TASK/CURSE/BURDEN: Devour all Creation; Destined to consume all existence every cataclysm, growing more powerful as each day marches closer to oblivion, harbinger of apocalypses as he sows his essence across the mortal and immortals bringing out the worst in them. Daily the Lord of Hunger must binge, feasting upon the world's resources as his Promethean task to represent all of the world's hunger, such that he is found continuously eating throughout the day... But never is he satisfied.

Appearence

The Appearance of a Devil to Unsuspecting Mortals

He appears to those who are unaware of the true nature of the beast as a living idol. A perfect human being as they believe it, often seeing him as a man befitting the role of a chief of the desert tribes. The aspects they value most exemplified within him, a paragon of their own hopes and dreams to what they desire to be. For it is not his power to change himself, no rather it is his power to change how others see him. Dressed in finery of gold with a body of a worthy of worship, regally moving with the power and awe, the splendor of a true god-king to be envied and admired.

The Appearance of a Demon to Those Who Wish to See Beyond

But to those who wish to see him for what desire truly is, for those who desire truth, they shall see him for what he is. A smiling devil with twisting horns which flow like hair around him. Sharp teeth and fangs, a gaunt face like a skull and hollow eyes with which he eats your very being. Though dressed in his robes and finery, he is nothing more but a skeletal terror as his ribs are visible against his open robe. That is the true nature of desire. The insatiable hunger that consumes you, and though you may eat, there is nothing to show for it. Life becomes meaningless, and you are nothing more than a walking corpse: Empty.

Personality

A Glimpse into the Mind of a Monster

Zhystkrexas, the corrupting influence of it all, that which dwells with the deepest reaches of the mind. Patient, devious, and cunning, an immortal who uses immortality best of all to sow the seeds of his grand design for the harvest. How many seasons shall he wait until his bounty becomes full and rich? But starve yourself completely waiting for the harvest to come? Why not feast on the spoils of another? Oh yes reap what is yours, but also devour the yields of others. let them savour their small victories, their piecemeal battles, let them dine upon their riches and let their praises be pleasing to their ears. Let all their plans align and designs unfold to their whim, but in the end it matters not. For when the crops are ready to be harvested, the locusts shall come to eat it all. And so this is why perhaps of all the evils in the world, Zhystkrexas is most despised, for he leeches off the work of others, and dares to manipulate even his peers as he would mortals.

Such is he who hungers. A façade of benevolence over a pit of pure malice, a voice so tempting, so pleasing to hear from a true cosmopolite, and yet beneath the veil a ravenous fiend. It is his hand that feeds, and also he that bites the hands that feed, and those that he fattens to feast upon. Nothing can sate him for he is hunger, and he shall lead you to consume yourself before he consumes you, both physically and spiritually as he devours your flesh and captures your soul. And once he has led you down the path, he shall take deepest pleasure in devouring your envious eyes, your lustful heart, your prideful tongue, your wrathful limbs, your greedy mind, your gluttonous gut, and your weary head.

And why does Zhystkrexas do this? For it is his nature. He hungers. He is hunger. Though his kingdom is plenty, he is the starving lord who eyes upon the kingdoms of others. In time, he shall consume them, and then when there is nothing left to be consumed, he shall be forced to consume himself.

Powers List

The Powers of Desire

Ravenous Mind:
The Devouring King exemplifies not a strong physical force nor magical one amongst his peers, but do not mistake this for weakness for his powers lie elsewhere. While he is merely slightly stronger than the average paragon mortal, and commands arcana within reach of the most learned of mortal magi, His unique power lies in his ability to bring out the worse in things. His presence is toxic, changing the very essence of beings and non-beings. It is his hand which cultivates the seed of desire, the primal shard preexisting, tending it to become an overgrowth that bursts through the nature of a thing. His work is to accelerate the inner hunger, the rest comes naturally as torment ends with feeding and overfeeding. Yet satiation never happens, and so indulgence becomes wickedness, carnal desires feasting upon morality, and moral desires feasting upon carnal needs. No one is safe from his abilities, to woo and tease out the hopes and dreams of a person, then taint them into a twisted reality. Where the pleasure may never end, but all meaning to it is lost.

Dark Contracts:
While it is with this psychic force that the Corrupter eats away at the will. Appearing as he would to mortals in a form they find desirable by dulling their beliefs in anything but to conceal the truth of his horror. But this illusionary self-delusion is merely a front for the true abilities he possess in the form of his magical contracts that taint reality with unyielding fantasy. It is his contracts which create kings out of men who lust for power, and scholars out of men who long for knowledge. Those who crave wealth find their coffers filled by the connections the Corrupter creates, and those who seek the pleasures of flesh shall find it so. By the magic of his magical contracts innocently offered to drag them deeper into their obsession, the shrewd negotiator can make those fantasies come true at a price. Already they have had their freedoms taken from them by his invisible chains, to sign a pact with him was undeniable.

Bound Soul:
And with these contracts, he may tap into the power of those poor souls, sealed away in their personal heavens but bound to be squeezed and abused at his pleasure. They who are trapped in an endless dream, but tormented in the same nightmare, used to lull another unsuspecting victim. He may channel the powers to seemingly warp reality to his desires, but ever able to twist the wishes of others. Take for example a man who wishes to be a king, but to do so would need to raise an army to raise a coupe. An army would be offered, perhaps summoned by the magic-users eternally bound by his contract or even comprising of fallen warriors who have sealed their future in the past. And the price for a regicidal army would be the future king's own soul. A bargain that the wise would be so wary, but the cunning would attempt to outwit. Nevertheless, when under the influence of desire, both wisdom and cunning become a hubris. And by the Corrupter's whim and will, that was so easily gained becomes so easily lost. So a collection of lost souls the Corrupter gains, each trapped in their own prisons of eternal paradise. Such is his title, for he rules his subjects within their own kingdoms.

Myriad Forms:
A thousand faces for the lord of hunger. Taking on the various forms to better serve his function. While not omnipresent, he is able to perfectly assume the form of anything he desires, blending in innocently in the world of mortals as whatever he pleases to corrupt them. Perhaps the form of a shrewd merchant to broker a trade between two parties and swindle both sides, or that of a song bird chirping sweet whispers in the ear of a honest man to drive him into deceit for the things he wants most. For hunger is in everyone, just as every atom holds an innate drive to sate their needs, so too does hunger take the form of everything.

Stats

Mortal Affairs: 1

Influence: 7

Power: 3

Perks

(( ))

RELATIONS

(( ))

Nᴜᴍᴇɴᴇ́ʀᴀ :: Sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ Nɪɴᴛʜ Wᴏʀʟᴅ

Juro

_Juro

:: the Mutant Jack who Gazes into the Abyss ::

"What is chaos to the fly is normal to the spider."

______________________________________________________________________________________

Tier Effort XP
[1] [1] [0]

[14] Pool :: Might :: Edge [1]
[14] Pool :: Speed :: Edge [0]
[12] Pool :: Intellect :: Edge [1]

:: Tertiary Stats ::
Armor :: 2
Damage :: Hale, Impaired, Debilitated, Dead
Recovery Value :: 1d6 + 1 Tier
Action [o or x] - 10 Minutes [o or x] - 1 Hour [o or x] - 10 Hours [o or x]

:: Bio ::
(( As I go))

:: Skills ::
Skill Name - Trained, Specialized, or inabled

Starting Skill 1: Survival - Trained - You are trained in wilderness navigation and in identifying plants and animals
Flex Skill 2: Stealth - Trained

:: Special Abilities ::

:: Spider legs: Instead of normal legs, you have a wide torso with six or eight spiderlike legs. They are an asset in any task involving running, keeping your feet, standing your ground, and climbing. Also roll on the beneficial mutations table. Enabler.

:: Thick hide: You gain +1 to Armor

:: Sickly: The difficulty of all Might defense tasks is increased by one step.

:: Cypher Use: You can bear two cyphers at a time.

:: Practiced With Light and Medium Weapons: You can use light and medium weapons without penalty. If you wield a heavy weapon, increase the difficulty of the attack by one step.

:: Flex Skill: At the beginning of each day, choose one task (other than attacks or defense) on which you will concentrate. For the rest of that day, you’re trained in that task. You can’t use this ability with a skill you’re already trained in to become specialized.

:: Hedge Magic: You can perform small tricks: temporarily change the color or basic appearance of a small object, cause small objects to float through the air, clean a small area, mend a broken object, prepare (but not create) food, and so on. You can’t use hedge magic to harm another creature or object. Action.

:: Trained without Armor: You are trained in Speed defense actions when not wearing armor. Enabler.

:: Beast: Your monstrous form is both powerful and hideous. You gain +4 to your Might Pool, and +1 to your Might Edge. Enabler.

:: Natural Weapons. You can make a melee attack with your claws, teeth, tentacles, or whatever you are equipped with. The attack inflicts 4 points of damage. Action.

Minor Effect Suggestions: The target is so intimidated by your bestial attack that it is dazed for one round, during which time the difficulty of all tasks it performs is modified by one step to its detriment.

Major Effect Suggestions: Your foe is disrupted and off balance by your bestial attack, and can’t use any special powers that require an action for two rounds.

Starting Equipment:

Additional Equipment: Manacles and hobble that you sometimes ask your friends to secure you with, just in case.

:: Cyphers ::
Limit :: ~ 2
::

Sound Dampener

Level: 4
Internal: Implant
Wearable: Wristband, ring, belt-mounted device, boots
Usable: Small handheld device
Effect: Dampens all sound within immediate range, providing an asset for all creatures in the area to attempt
stealthy actions.

::

Detonation (spawn)

Level: 5
Wearable: Wristband projector (long range)
Usable: Explosive device or ceramic sphere (thrown, short range) or handheld projector (long range)
Effect: Bursts in an immediate radius, blinding all within it for one minute and inflicting damage equal to the
cypher level. The burst spawns 1d6 additional detonations; on the next round, each additional detonation flies
to a random spot within short range and explodes in an immediate radius. Roll for the type of damage dealt
by all detonations:

Table

01–10 Cell-disrupting (harms only flesh)
11–30 Corrosive
31–40 Electrical discharge
41–50 Heat drain (cold)
51–75 Fire
76–00 Shrapnel

:: Equipment ::
Shins :: ~ 8

:: Whip
:: Bow
:: Clothing
:: Light armor
:: Pack of Light Tools
:: Cypher 1
:: Cypher 2
:: Oddity
:: Manacles and hobble that you sometimes ask your friends to secure you with, just in case.

:: Artifacts and Oddities ::
:: Bag of sixteen rubber balloons

:: Background ::
For some odd reason, Sam is able to soothe Juro's predatory instincts, never attacking her and if she is in danger going on a rampage.

Oh My Gods!

It appears we aren't so much Gods as Demigods in most cases.

[5e] Outrealms

Alexandra the Valkyrie

---

"It is settled then! We camp here tonight." A nod at the rest of the group as the warrior woman reached into her bag of holding to withdraw a set of handaxes. Taking one in each hand with the obvious intent of murdering a nearby tree. A tilt of the neck to either side came with audible pops, a roll of her shoulders, all in preparation to be the lumberjack. All she needed now was to wear plaid flannel and grow a gristly beard, and with her body she'd convince anyone she was a frontiersman, emphasis on man. Fortunately her feminine curves reduced the stark visualization, if only mildly so as her wet over-the-shoulder hair. Walking past the breaking group the Valkyrie headed towards the treeline, similar to the Anna and Harridan albeit "Prepare the camp grounds, pitch your tents ladies, I'll go grab us some wood."

Settling into the forest, no enemies were in sight, save for the trees themselves. Selecting one among them to fall, Alex began her work, undisturbed by the falling leaves as the tree's rebuttal against her strokes. Unwavering strength with each blow, splitting the bark hack by hack, the might of her honed body shining through the workout. With nary a sweat broken, the forest lost a tree, crashing down amidst the thicket with a quaking thud. Yet the work was not quite done as the female lumberjack continued to butcher the verdant corpse, splitting apart the trunk into a manageable pillar of wood. Sap like blood oozed and splattered out the axe cuts chipped away into the pith. Until at last it was finished, and finally the muscular woman found herself perspiring, a single tree was more effort than the witch or zombies combined. Wiping her brow off before hoisting the massive totem over her shoulder with a grunt, a feat of strength beyond lesser men with a burden of close to quarter ton, the barbarian zealot marched back towards the campground, axes freshly dripping of sap but their magic nature kept their edges still keen.

Returning to camp about an hour after her departure, Alex found her shield-brother grazing on the grass of this strange world. The trees were not so different, nor evidently was the grass as the Unicorn glanced at the haul of wood the Valkyrie carried. She'll need to cut it down to campfire size, a single tree trunk was quite massive, although perhaps the spearmaiden had ideas to make furnishings such as a table for them share meal with. Though there was a distinct lack of ale or mead to go around, perhaps the merchant had some? If she returned they would have to trade certainly, coin was no good in the wilderness, food and drink were more important. The cat-kin seemed more interesting however, another devotee of the divines, sure Mila had mentioned something but there was something admirable about a faithful servant that Alex could admire.

"You follow the Raven Queen then? I have heard of her. She is no goddess of mine. But she seems to be similar to Hel, among the gods I serve." A conversation started as the human set to work on restructuring the great piece of wood with her single handaxe. Between the rhythmic sounds of wood being chopped, the casual conversation between strangers forced together, "Where I come from, the goddess Hel rules the dread afterlife for those who fall of disease and age. Valhalla and Freyja's Field are reserved for those who died in glorious battle. I pray that one day I may be worthy of entering the gates of Valhalla." An quick explanation of Alex's understanding of her pantheon's afterlife policies. There were complexities beyond them, but those were for those higher within the ranks to explain to the lowly folk such as her. Even a Templar could not fully explain the cosmos, but was it not the truest faith to believe in something that may not even be true? "We are both women of faith, and I wonder, if the gods have brought us here. But I am no priest or seer, so I must ask of you if my thoughts may be true."

A few pieces chucked into a growing pile, plucked clean and stamped down by Adal in preparation. He was the only man for Alex, for truly they knew each other well so much as for him to prepare a patch of bare earth for the campfire. Touching the pile with his horn the flames ignited. The many uses of druidcraft, the fire crackling soon enough, and the half-hewn long-hall table set a few feet before the burning flames. Taking a seat by the fire to warm and dry the remains of her damp clothes, her hair slowly curling back into a wild tangle as the Valkyrie motioned the Cat-cleric to sit by the warm inferno of Muspelheim and discuss her thoughts.

Oh My Gods!

Probably about right. He does have to eat a bunch. I'd imagine he's forced to be continually eatting... Never stopping unless he starts to eat himself...

Oh My Gods!

@ScreenAcne

By nature Zhystkrexas is essential.

Hunger is a drive which motivates.
He is the necessary evil of the world.
Without an urge or impetus to want something more,
The world falls into a stagnation of stoicism.
Where nothing moves because there is no desire to move.
mortals would not eat nor drink nor breathe.
The very atoms would fail to react as they lose their atomic principles...
Causing all chemically reactions to cease to be governed by the simple need of electrons...

Edit: Of course without him the world is doomed to succumb into lawless chaos. And with him? All the same. The point is to satiate the insatiable such that he walks the fine line and keeps devouring but never quite swallowing his meals.