#as her deity being overcome with rage | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sleepy-baby-witchy1 · 1 month

Text

war deities - sekhmet

sekhmet: egyptian goddess of war, healing, chaos, the desert sun, & plague

"so ra brought forth the goddess sekhmet, the destroyer." - carlos museum of emory university

crossing sekhmet was something that was literally a life or death manner. she was created to punish those disobedient to her father, ra. outside of her infamous wrath, she was a deeply loved goddess who had a protective aura and provided healing to her followers.

being one of many deities who protected the ancient pharaohs, it wasn't sekhmet's only job. many egyptian gods had dualities, as seen above. additionally, egyptian gods were typically depicted in triads or groups. the main group sekhmet is linked with is the eye of ra. this group consists of sekhmet, hathor, bastet, mut, & uadyet. she also has connections to pakhet, mehit, wadjet, & isis as well.

sekhmet's creation

as ra aged and his creation days were mostly over, mankind began worshipping apophis, the spirit of evil. furious with mankind for not obeying his laws or preserving ma'at, ra, the sun god, took out his eye and placed it on earth. after placing her on the earth, ra named her sekhmet the destroyer.

once she was set loose to punish those who had turned their backs on ra, it was an absolute massacre. after devouring the followers of apophis, sekhmet turned on those who hadn't betrayed ra and began killing them as well. one version of this myth says ra felt regret for what he had done, and ordered her to stop - but sekhmet was too far gone into her bloodlust. in an attempt to get sekhmet to stop her rage, he poured seven thousand jugs of beer mixed with pomegranate juice into her path. the pomegranate juice dyed the beer red, disguising it as blood. upon seeing the liquid, sekhmet went towards it and drank so much of it she became intoxicated and slept for three days. after waking up, not only was humanity saved, but she saw -and fell in love with- ptah.

another version of this myth says that ra met with all the gods to discuss what he should do upon discovering mankind worshipping apophis. nun, the father of ra, said he should create a spirit to kill only those who worship apophis. he agreed, and created sekhmet to punish his disloyal followers. sekhmet began her killing spree on worshippers of apophis, but it wasn't long before she turned her attention to people outside of those she had been sent to punish. the remaining people who hadn't begun worshipping apophis cried out to ra for protection and help. ra, moved by the cries of his people, dumped a mixture of beer that had been dyed with red ochre into either the fields or the river outside of where sekhmet was staying. lured by the "bloody" scene, sekhmet greedily lapped it up and became drunk. ra approached sekhmet and informed her that she no longer needed to be the destroyer, she would instead become the goddess of love - hathor. ra informed her she'd still have the same amount of power as she had now, but it would no longer be used for hate and destruction.

sacred plants

pomegranate, juniper

cinnamon, papyrus reeds, cloves, vanilla

roses, carnations, orange blossoms, lotus

sacred colors

red

orange

yellow

gold

white

sacred animals

lions

cobras, serpents

incense

copal

orange

ylang-ylang

dragon's blood

myrrh

kyphi

cedar

frankincense

sandalwood

patchouli

amber

symbols

ankh

fire

sun disk

papyrus scepter

udjat eye

sand

crystals for her

garnet, zircon, danburite, bloodstone, ruby, gold, sunstone, fire opal, tiger's eye

tarot cards associated with her

queen of wands

the tower

death

strength

knight of wands

the sun

epithets of sekhmet

mistress of life

lady of the tomb

gracious one

destroyer of rebellion

mighty one of enchantments

smiter of nubians

one before whom evil trembles

flaming one

lady of the place of the beginning of time

mistress of the tomb

great one of magic

pure one

awakener

ruler of lions

overcomer of all enemies

beloved sekhmet

scarlet lady

the powerful one

goddess of vengeance

lady of pestilence

mistress of dead

great one of healing

victorious one

sekhmet of the knives

links!

sekhmet myth 1, ancient egypt online, epithets 1, ask aladdin - sekhmet, tales from 2 lands 1, tales from 2 lands 2, finding dulcinea, the collector, egyptian museum, australian museum, land of pyramids

#deity work #paganblr #war gods #deity identification #witchblr #egyptian mythology #egyptian gods #kemetism #sekhmet #sekhmet goddess of war

16 notes · View notes

deathleadsarc · 7 months

Text

may i just, go over why making her a Drow from a Lolth-sworn family was my best idea?? Here's some info on Lolth

Lolth was a goddess of cold cruelty not out of place in the darkest depths of the endless Abyss, reveling in betrayal and bloodshed and toying with everyone from her minions to her victims. She not only enjoyed, but thrived upon torture, destruction, and death, whether personally performing it or causing it. Every interaction was ultimately done with malice, ill will seething from her every move, and even those who knew her well could be surprised by just how deep her viciousness went. Her malevolence could be compared to the rage of the brutal orc deity Gruumsh, but where his fury was as mindlessly violent as a force of nature, her malice was complicated and deliberate. Furthermore, Gruumsh could at least be said to be steady and constant in his hate, whilst Lolth's was utterly capricious.

Lolth demanded absolute fealty and obedience from all drow, and questioning her motives or wisdom was considered a sin. This applied even to male drow despite her considering them to be unclean, and she took vengeful notice if one abandoned her faith. She also secretly desired the worship of other types of elves, as well as humans, and enjoyed corrupting them into her service even more than torment and devastation. In contrast, she fomented unending chaos amongst the drow, eternally setting them against each other. Ostensibly this was to weed out the weak and complacent, leaving only the strongest, cruelest, and most devious to serve her, and to some degree she believed this, but it was also simply for her own amusement and supremacy.

Despite her demands for loyalty, those who blindly obeyed Lolth's demands would find themselves quickly led to their deaths. In truth, Lolth's capricious nature meant that there were few hard-and-fast rules, and much uncertainty as to her desires. The successful had to pay attention to her ever-changing wants, for her favor was fickle, and those who she played favorites with (a frequent occurrence) would inevitably find her turning on them without warning. The Spider Queen was technically capable of displays of kindness and aiding those she fancied, and would always give one chance for the disfavored to redeem themselves, but this usually meant a dangerous mission and in others might just mean silently watching their next move. She could never be relied on and her ultimate motivation was almost always manipulative.

Lolth's promotion of infighting amongst her worshipers led many to believe she was insane, and this assessment was not baseless. Indeed, ever since her fall from grace her sanity had frayed and fractured until she became the petty, conniving monster she was commonly known as. Her will was not merely fluid, but often times contradictory, although even if she was mad, the drow placed more importance on a deep and devious sense of cunning than mental stability. Ironically, for all her demands for obedience, nothing demanded her attention and admiration more than treachery, even towards herself (if only temporarily). Guile and political ruthlessness were the signs of her favorite servants, and she ultimately admired ambition more than she did loyalty.

So naturally, the 'King' in Qistina's main story has become a Queen in BG3 for her to overcome. While she would respect and revere Lolth in the beginning, she does NOT appreciate being controlled or trapped. What a better choice than for the queen of spiders to be the only thing that could trap her? Anyway, I'm reading up on the dnd lore surrounding it so I can better flesh out her nice backstory!! i just love it sm and really want to yell about it

it also means that she doesnt have to be a human age, i could just as easily keep her around 536 :) you know. the Drow do live up to 750 years!

#ooc.

3 notes · View notes

halodwolf · 1 year

Text

i know i’m late but i’m a guy with no free time so 👍 but nonetheless now’s the time to show your love for cat girls everywhere....

my wonderful girl vespertine ridge is a contender in @lesbocs and here’s why you should vote for her

^ this is her. on appearance alone you can tell her cool factor is through the roof. she’s spiky. she has a mullet. she’s got a sexy eye scar. she has an industrial. all while being a cat. vesper’s a weird charcoal bengal/maine coon thing but mostly she just looks like she listens to evanescence which is the most important part. if she were a person she’d be cybergoth dancing under an overpass in 2004.

vespertine is a soldier in the ridges of the eastern plateau. she IS the turning point of her story. without her the conflict would never begin. she is a vessel of her deity the spinner and her introduction brings forth everything to come. she and her brother lazarus were separated at birth and she spent most of her time struggling to live up to the unwieldy expectations of their birth mother abyss. she fought and clawed her way through the violent society the ridges fostered yet still offers a kindness most think long forgotten of their collective. through it all her and her girlfriend rosetta, the ridge’s new doctor, persevered and found themselves fortunate enough to have one another. when atheris and lazarus arrived in order to stop the war between the ridges and the keys of the western gorge, her and rosetta immediately came to their aid.

despite a one sided rivalry between her and atheris for lazarus’s attention upon the learning of their relation, vesper never lost her spirit. even when pinned down and attacked by atheris in a fit of divine rage, she remained. she refused to let him take what he wanted of fate. her determination began a cycle seeking to right this wrong and set the three of them on the right course so that together they might overcome every problem brought to them. working hand in paw with the spinner, vespertine carved their destinies.

if that hasn’t convinced you enough, here’s some old art of vesper and her girlfriend

thanks for your time :)

#☀️#oc tag #vesper #this is long. sorry

7 notes · View notes

purplecatghostposts · 10 months

Note

Rant about your current favorite thing

I’ve been on a Worldbuilding WARPATH so guess what, you’re getting some of that and some story to pair with it.

Not totally polished but I’ve been thinking about the system of Deities for a world within a book I’m slowly working out, right? Deities in this world undeniably exist but they try not to interfere too much as their bodies are manifestations of power and while that power can be used for a lot of good, unlike mortal beings that have more balanced bodies, if they lose themselves in something, the result can not only be destructive but difficult to shake them out of it.

Example being: There used to be a great coastal city of Atlantis that was the lead in creating all the latest technology, but unfortunately some dubious practices led to such intense water pollution that the Goddess of the Ocean was unbalanced by it, overcome with rage, and sank the entire city before anyone was able to get through to her. It’s now often used as a cautionary tale, similarly to Icarus, flying too close to the sun.

There are four types of Deities: Major, Minor, Affixed, and Origin.

Major Deities cover important things like the Ocean and hold a lot of power and influence, typically very well known too. Minor Deities cover more specific things like luck and rely a bit more on support from mortals to expand their powers. Affixed Deities, unlike the other two, are not born Deities but rather, become them through different means such as being gifted with it or seeking it out. They’re less powerful than the other two but still more powerful than pretty much anyone who’s mortal and are immortal all the same.

Origin Deities however, are on a whole other level. They’re the oldest Deities and not only hold the most power and influence over the world, but also have entirely different realms of their own. Interestingly enough, they also seem to be the only Deities that consider each other siblings seeing as how they’re all connected in such a way.

At first, there appear to only be two Origin Deities: Creation and Knowledge, the older, and Destruction and Power, the younger. They’re the most well know deities across the land and while not seen as often, still highly respected and often even feared because of their power. Many murals in places of worship have at least one referencing the pair.

However as time goes on and the mortals begin to really research and stride to understand everything around them (Something Knowledge is pleased by, because if there is one thing they love about mortals, it is their curiosity), new information begins to point towards there being a third, unknown Origin Deity. Efforts to ask other Deities about this goes poorly— not even the Major Deities seem to know anything about it and Creation and Destruction dodge the question completely.

So, research goes further and still, goes poorly. The idea surrounding a third Origin Deity is so slim that many pass it off as a hoax. But, those that either believe in it or want to definitively prove if it’s real or fake make their attempts to reach out to this possible Deity. They’ve never been seen on the mortal plane, as far as they know, so there’s a good chance that like Creation and Destruction, they have a realm of their own and possibly can be found there.

This research leads somewhere. It’s proven that there is in fact a third dimension separate from their own, but unfortunately things go wrong. Attempts to contact the Deity are ignored and one attempt to physically enter the realm ends up with almost the entire research team going missing, trapped within an extremely hostile dimension that did not take an unauthorized portal opening up inside of it well.

Because of this incident, the project is completely shut down and scrapped for years to come. However, the idea of a third Origin Deity still lingers around until it’s eventually picked up by a few Devotees, mortals who in exchange for helping the Deity they serve do whatever they want to be done in the mortal world, get power from said Deity they serve. They want to know the truth, so they shift their attention away from the Deity who has never been seen and their very hostile dimension and instead focus their research on the Origin Deities they do know.

A lot comes up as they research, but one thing that’s eye catching is a painting created by The Great Oracle of the Deity of Creation and Knowledge, depicting the Origin Deities. It’s abstract and a very popular painting, often the one in most places of worship, and it depicts a symbol that’s now used as a reference to the Origin Deities. In its simplest form, it’s a diamond with an infinity loop twisted around it.

Within the painting, it shows references to Creation and Destruction, but noticeably, it also depicts an inky void above, which is very similar to the hostile dimension that past researchers attempted to enter, with terrible results.

With this information, among others, the Devotees manage to land an audience with both Creation and Destruction within their main temple. Both Deities admit that maybe they have a few things to come clean about and while they’d rather avoid it, the Devotees have done them several great services in the past, and it’s only right to pay it forward with an honest conversation that they’ve been requesting.

Creation and Destruction finally admit to there being a third Origin Deity, the God of Void and Nothingness, albeit hesitant to talk about him. They state that he wants to be left alone, hence why unlike Creation and Destruction, he’s never been seen by any mortals, and that even they struggle to get any sort of answer from their brother.

It’s the answer the Devotees have always wanted but it feels as though there’s a piece of the puzzle that’s missing. Among the Devotees, one of them, who serves Creation and Knowledge themselves, can’t help but press on. Ask if there really is three Origin Deities.

And Creation and Knowledge, who struggles to not give answers to anyone who seeks them from a place of wanting to genuinely understand, slips up and accidentally corrects them, saying that there are four.

Destruction and Power freezes beside them. The Devotees are thrown into a state of pure shock, and suddenly, the Devotee of Knowledge finally puts a few pieces together.

Four sides of a diamond. Two, Creation and Destruction, on the mortal plane, and two, Void and Terra, above and below.

The Devotees have questions, naturally. The biggest of them all is why? Why have their siblings never been seen? Why do Creation and Destruction never speak of them? Why go through all this effort to hide?

There is hesitance, again, when the pair speak of their siblings. Not reluctance, but a caution born of fear. And they soon learn why.

Void and Terra came first. Creation and Destruction came second. Their siblings are older, of greater power, and have rarely spent time outside of their own, highly dangerous realms. They are not sympathetic, not merciful, and most importantly, not to be disturbed at all costs. They have spent so much time within their own realms that Creation and Destruction fear that the slightest change in them may invoke their rage.

With this, the Devotees realize the core of the reason why the pair of Deities never speak of their older siblings:

Creation and Destruction, the two most powerful Deities in the mortal realm, are afraid of them and what they can do. If the world at large knew this, they would be just as terrified, possibly enough to do something incredibly stupid. So for all of their sakes, the pair hid it.

But now the Devotees know. And they have to deal with that.

Anyways. That’s what I got for now. Hope it was interesting!

#SB Speaks #Ask #yeah I dumped a bunch of worldbuilding and a bit of storytelling on you #enjoy #long post #kinda #again not perfect! but I’m laying down the baseline for what I wanna create y’know

2 notes · View notes

khaosundivided · 1 year

Text

Finding the portal was easy.

And the newcomers, those Usurpers in their silver ships, hadn’t warded it against him. There was no need. Should the Master of Seasons prove a big enough pest, as his youngest sister had, he would share her fate. Thalisstaran had been a fly, buzzing around their collective ear and even daring to bite it and now she was dead. It was this fact that drove Ïshtaran , Turner of the World and Greatest of the Worldly Gods, to stand before the roiling gateway between realities. Csertiran and Artarania had fled, hiding themselves somewhere deep within the planet to mourn. But Ïshtaran knew that hiding would only delay the inevitable. To fight was to die. To hide was to die.

So for decades, he had observed the Warp-Gates between his world and wherever the Usurpers had come from. The solution must lie there, beyond the gate. That must be the source of their strength and if he could get his claws on that power, then maybe they could fight these intruders. It was a possibility, a chance, and a chance was better than death for certain. But something had changed from the angle of the newcomers. No longer did they seem keen on warping the land and shifting the clime to their liking. No longer did they kill off entire races and species at a whim, raising up bastard kinds in their places to serve them. Oh, they did still engineer life from creeping things, but these were not slaves or warrior-serfs as the scaled-bastards had been. Something out there, beyond the Polar Gates, had challenged the supremacy of the Usurpers over their stolen world.

And the aggrieved Ishtaran was keen know what.

Righteous rage and grief overcoming any fear or doubt lurking in his heart, the deity pressed his body pass the threshold of the Gateway and into the worlds beyond. Ïshtaran passed from solid reality into this nightmare realm, a sea of roiling energy, and no sooner did he was the worldly god beset by monsters and enemies. The beings of this dimension saw him as an anathema. He was as much an intruder as the Usurpers and they set upon him as such, ripping and tearing. But Ishtaran was mighty indeed and struck the forms from a great many daemons before he was forced to run.

“I did not come for violence!” He cried out, shouldering his way through a thousand enemies. “Please! I did not come to fight!”

But the beings cared not and they came on, ripping at his flanks, leaping at his back, swarming like angry wasps defending their home. Claws tried and failed to find purchase upon his muscled form, winged creatures swooped and harried with their foot-talons. Ishtaran did not stop, for to stop meant to join his sister. I will outlast these creatures. I will outrun them, out muscle them! The daemons were tenacious, but they were only daemons in the end. Daemons with knowledge of the territories and domains within the endless warp. Daemons who were reticent about setting foot where the worldly god had found himself harangued into…

When at last the attacks stopped, Ïshtaran found himself in a place not too dissimilar to his own. A golden field, blades of grass tickling his fur and scales. A gentle breeze ruffled his mane. Strange, not-quite birds flitted about his head, settling on his massive moose-like antlers. Were it not for the persistent burning of several wounds peppered about his hide, he would’ve thought everything that had come before a mere nightmare. Tiny daemons peeked out at him from trees, from behind statues, and from the grasses themselves. It was not every day a god came upon the Rings of Pleasure…

Braving the rings was easy, for Ïshtaran was not a creature of greed. Baubles meant nothing to him, as he was not a man. He ignored the banquet of the second most ring, having gorged himself on the sweet grasses of the first. The third ring held no interest either, for it was not the season of the coupling and pairing (and the daemon waifs were much too small to entertain anyway). Paramountcy proved the greatest challenge, for surely an army of elite soldiers would be enough to drive his usurpers away? But no, Ïshtaran was no thief and he was far too driven and determined for indolence to be of any interest. At last, did he arrive at the Palace of Pleasure. At last, did he make the acquaintance of the Perfect Prince.

Ïshtaran was snared, as a bear in a trap, beguiled by the strange, serpentine being. Burning in his limbs was a desire to kneel and bow, and these things he did do…but then he stood back up for he was a god, one burning with a righteous fire, and not some weak-willed mortal for the tide of Pleasure God’s beauty to wash over and extinguish. No, he was strong and sure.

“Pardon my intrusion, but I have come a long way to speak with the master of this territory.” He began, his words gentle but his voice like rolling thunder, the fury of nature itself vibrating just beneath his politeness. A taste of that world that taunted and teased just beyond that veil and no meager meal was this, but one of it’s very gods! The Prince laced his claws, chuckled, flitting his tongue.

“And speak we shall.” He purred, “But first—you look exhausted. Come, come God of the Material World. Let us see if we cannot do anything for your wounds, your weariness, and once those are sorted, we shall speak.”

Ïshtaran’s ears perked and he stepped after the Princeling of Darkness. “Do you have a name? What do your children call you? The stones and trees and my blood-kin have named me Ïshtaran.”

The being hummed, turning to his guest with a disarming smile, “I have many children and many names...but you should be allowed to call me Slaanesh, the Prince of Pleasure.”

#Master of the Seasons.#Prince of Pleasure.#warhammer fantasy #longpost

5 notes · View notes

resmarted · 2 months

Text

thank you to anyone reaching out and (assumingly) checking on me. i cannot open any msgs at this time in an effort to preserve my sanity but i suspect these are gentle nudges of concern and i appreciate the sentiment. i am not ready to fully discuss any of what i have been going through despite feeling incredibly alone in this process and currently incapable of trusting anyone for the time being. i know how i sound and i know what it looks like and cannot deal with the inevitable gaslighting responses or the fragile handling of me like i might break, especially bc i just might. i have lived an incredibly painful life and have managed to overcome all of it time and time again, and this is just another, slightly meatier portion of that process. i have been deeply betrayed by the people closest to me and cannot find the words to express what it has done to me to uncover disturbingly dark truths about the people i once considered my family. it is such a delicate subject full of mysticism and things i know people will want to easily debunk or write off, and mostly it does not matter if you or i believe any of it is real. you don't have to believe in whether or not something will actually work to accept that someone will try it regardless just in case it does. you don't have to believe in god or the devil to know that people will do all sorts of things to worship and honor their beloved deities, for better or for worse. religious ritual abuse is actually quite common in many forms and i am not in the mood to try and explain any of this to someone who may look at me like i've gone off the deep end when it is well documented what kind of family i come from and the types of spellwork my mom publicly does for a living. and even if this were some sort of mental break (who knows! i'm open to all possibilities!) i would still need to process this as well before returning to talk about it to anyone. there have been multiple break ins in my home recently, among many other disturbing occurences, and i cannot fathom anyone in my position being able to handle it as well as i have been. honestly i'm surprisingly calm for the most part, the posts written from flashes of rage are more than justified, and eventually i will have collected my thoughts in a manner to really break down everything into digestible pieces. i read something recently that said no one would have believed gypsy rose if she had told authorities or anyone that knew her, and they're right. it's too heinous sounding and easier to believe the best in people or the facade they curate for the outside world, espscially someone who makes a career out of being a martyr with a sick child. no one in this world praised her more than me. i don't want her dead, i want her held publicly accountable. the majority of spellwork she offers involves scamming the justice system, which she has prided herself on successfully achieving time and time again. i think it's time the scales balance out once and for all. if you never hear from me again, please know it is not personal. i wish to disconnect from this version of my life and everything associated with it, as none of it is real and never has been. thank you again for any support, silent or otherwise.

0 notes

nerdythebard · 3 years

Text

#27: Athena, Goddess of Wisdom

She had to make her appearance eventually, Gods and Goddesses.

Athena is probably one of the most famous deities. Daughter of Zeus, born despite his schemes, ready to defend the people and Olympus. Contrary to Ares's bloodshed, she represents strategy, military wisdom and careful planning. Spoiler alert: we're not making her a Battle Master ;)

Next Time: HAVE YOU EVER HEARD THE JAGUAR CRY TO THE BLUE CORN MOON!?

Let's see what we need for the SMITE version of Athena to appear in our D&D game:

Ultimate Defender: Even bigger protector than Artio, Athena is a Guardian with High Crowd Control and High Defence.

Reach for the Sky: Athena uses long-reach attacks and her Ultimate allows her to appear by her companion's side for some extra protection.

You and what Army: Athena can summon the Defenders of Olympus to form a shield wall around her, as well as taunt and goad enemies into fighting her.

---

I know I've done this before many-a-times, but I really have no choice here. Athena is a guardian, she has the divine blood of Zeus in her veins... I have to make her a Protector Aasimar. We get a +2 Charisma and +1 Wisdom, 60 feet of Darkvision, resistance to necrotic and radiant damage, ability to speak Common and Celestial, the Light cantrip, and Healing Hands, which lets us recover Hit Points equal to our level once per long rest.

We're going to take the City Watch background, which gives us proficiencies in Athletics and Insight, two languages of our choice, but we're actually going to customize it and replace the Watcher's Eye feature with Legal Authority from the Inquisitor background. This allows us to become a representative of the law, pass judgments and sometimes even carry out the sentence. Basically, we can now tell those who attempt to invade Olympus

ABILITY SCORES

Strength will be first, our weapon is a spear and those are not labelled as finesse. Next is Constitution, we need to be able to take hits. Follow that up with Wisdom, it's kinda our thing, especially when it comes to strategy.

Charisma will be next, it's important for a good leader (and a proud crafter). Dexterity is a bit lower than I would like it to be, but in SMITE Athena is not the quick-and-nimble type. Finally, we're dumping Intelligence. We really need other abilities more, plus it wasn't a smart decision to punish Arachne for winning a competition.

CLASS

Once again, I'm putting a small twist on the prediction and I think this is the first time on the blog we're doing this.

Level 1 - Paladin: We start with the divine warrior. Paladins get a d10 Hit Dice, [10 + Constitution modifier] initial Hit Points, proficiencies with light armour, medium armour, heavy armour, shields, simple weapons, and martial weapons. In the artwork, we see that Athena is not turtled-up in armour, so giving her a half-plate in addition to a spear and a shield seems like a good option. Our saving throws are Wisdom and Charisma, and we get to choose two class skills (Intimidation and Persuasion).

We start by getting Divine Sense, which informs us of any celestial, fiends, or undead within 60 feet of us. We know the type, but not what the creature actually is.

Lay on Hands is similar to our racial ability, Healing Hands. We have a pool of healing energy, equal to [our Paladin level x5] which restores itself at each long rest. As an action, we can touch a creature and restore its Hit Points by whatever points we have left in the pool. Alternatively, we can spend 5 points to remove one disease or poison from the target.

Level 2 - Paladin: We get Divine Smite. Whenever we hit a creature with a melee weapon attack, we can burn a spell slot to add extra 2d8 radiant damage (+1d8 for each spell slot above 1st-level to a maximum of 5d8). Damage increases by 1d8 if the enemy is a fiend or an undead.

We also get to pick a Fighting Style. To fulfil Athena's role as a guardian, we're once again going to pick Interception. Whenever a creature within 5 feet of us is hit by an attack, we can use our reaction to reduce the damage by [1d10 + our proficiency bonus]. We must be wielding a shield or a simple/martial weapon.

Paladins also get Spellcasting. Charisma is our casting ability, and we do not learn cantrips or rituals. Paladins have access to their full spell list and can each day prepare [Charisma modifier + half of Paladin level rounded down] spells. We start with two 1st-level spell slots:

Divine Favour bathes us in divine light and power, allowing our weapon attacks to deal extra 1d4 radiant damage for 1 minute (concentration).

Heroism increases your allies' morale. Until the spell ends (1 minute, concentration), one willing creature we touch is immune to being frightened and gain Temporary Hit Points equal to our casting ability modifier at the start of each turn.

Shield of Faith surrounds one creature of our choice within range (60 feet) for 10 minutes (concentration), granting it a +2 AC bonus.

Level 3 - Paladin: With Divine Health we are now immune to disease. We also get to pick our subclass, our Sacred Oath. Athena is a devoted protector of her city and the gods, so making her take the Oath of the Crown, to uphold the spirit of the nation and service to law seems fitting. We start by getting some Oath Spells; those are always prepared for us and don't count against the total number of spells known:

Command forces a Wisdom saving throw onto one creature within 60 feet of us, as we utter a single-word demand. On a failed save, the target is compelled to execute that command to the best of their ability at the beginning of their next turn. The command cannot force the target to harm themselves.

Compelled Duel forces one creature within 30 feet to turn their attention towards us and fight one-on-one, provided they fail a Wisdom saving throw. For the duration (1 minute, concentration), the compelled target has a disadvantage on attacks made against targets other than us and must make a Wisdom saving throw when attempting to move more than 30 feet away from us.

We also gain access to the Cleric's Channel Divinity. Once per short or long rest, we can use one of the two effects listed below:

Champion Challenge acts similarly to the Compelled Duel spell, as it prevents creatures who fail a Wisdom saving throw to move further than 30 feet from us. The difference is, this ability affects every creature within 30 feet radius.

Turn the Tide lets us use our bonus action to bolster the injured. Each creature of our choice within 30 feet of us regain [1d6 + our Charisma modifier] Hit Points, provided they have no more than half of their Hit Points.

Level 4 - Paladin: Time for our first Ability Score Improvement. We will, however, take the Spear Mastery feat instead. We gain a +1 to attack rolls made with our spear, the damage dice of the spear change from a d6 to d8, we can use our bonus action to extend the spear's reach by 5 feet until the end of our turn, and finally, we can prepare ourselves for a charge. If a creature that we can see within 20 feet of us gets within our spear's reach on its next turn, we can use a reaction to make an attack against it that deals additional 1d8 damage. If the creature used Disengage before, we're not getting the opportunity.

We can also grab another spell: Protection from Evil and Good grants one willing creature we touch protection from aberrations, celestials, elementals, fey, fiends, and undead. Attack rolls against the target are made with a disadvantage, and the target cannot be charmed or frightened by the aforementioned creatures.

Level 5 - Paladin: With Extra Attack we can now attack twice instead of once during a single Attack action.

We also unlock 2nd-level spells and gain two spells from our subclass spell list:

Warding Bond ties up to one target within 60 feet of us. For 1 hour the target gains a +1 bonus to AC and saving throws, and resistance to all forms of damage. Additionally, whenever the target takes damage we take the same amount of damage.

Zone of Truth creates a 15-foot-radius sphere at a point within 60 feet of us for 10 minutes. Creatures inside the sphere must make a Wisdom saving throw or become unable to lie as long as they remain within the sphere's boundaries. They are not compelled to answer, however.

Level 6 - Paladin: We get our first Aura option. With the Aura of Protection, whenever a friendly creature within 10 feet of us must make a saving throw, it gains a bonus equal to our Charisma modifier.

We also get another spell: Magic Weapon transforms our non-magical weapon into a magical one, for the purpose of overcoming resistances and immunities. Until the spell ends (1 hour, concentration), we also get a +1 bonus to attack and damage rolls done with the weapon.

Level 7 - Barbarian: Surprise! I believe it's the first time we jump into the rage machine. I can already hear you saying 'Ares should've been a barbarian!'. Maybe. Maybe not. Hear me out, though: Athena's rage is cold and calculated. Precise and bottled up, to be unleashed only when necessary.

Multiclassing into Barbarian doesn't give us any new proficiencies or skills, but we do get the Unarmoured Defence. When we're not wearing armour, our AC equals [10 + our Dexterity modifier + our Constitution modifier]. Unlike Monks, we still get this benefit even if wielding a shield.

We also get access to the Barbarian's key feature...

As a bonus action, the Barbarian can Rage and gain the following benefits (provided they're not wearing heavy armour):

Advantage on Strength checks and Strength saving throws

Bonus to damage rolls (+2; changes as we level up) for weapons that use Strength

Resistance to bludgeoning, piercing and slashing damage

The rage lasts for 1 minute (unless we dismiss it earlier, are knocked unconscious, fail to attack a target on our turn or taken damage during such) and while it's on, we cannot cast spells. For now, we can Rage twice before taking a long rest.

Level 8 - Barbarian: We gain Danger Sense, to better detect hostility. If we're not blinded, deafened or incapacitated, we have an advantage on Dexterity saving throws for effects we can see, such as traps and spells.

We can also forget about defence when making a Reckless Attack. When making our first attack on our turn, we can choose to do it recklessly. This gives us an advantage on melee weapon attacks that use Strength on our turn, but until the end of our next turn, all attacks made against us also have an advantage.

Level 9 - Barbarian: We can now Rage three times per long rest.

We also get to pick our second subclass, our Primal Path. And this is the moment where we get our Athenian warriors with the Path of the Ancestral Guardian. With Ancestral Protectors, we can call upon spectral warriors of the past which hinder the attacks of the first creature we hit while Raging. Until the end of our next turn, the target has a disadvantage on all attacks that aren't against us and when other creatures attack the target, they gain resistance to the damage type of the attack they make.

Level 10 - Barbarian: Halfway through the build and we're getting another ASI. We're gonna raise our Dexterity by 2 points.

Level 11 - Barbarian: Normally, we would've gained Extra Attack here, but we've already got it from our Paladin levels and they do not stack. We do, however, get Fast Movement which increases our movement speed by 10 feet provided we're not wearing heavy armour.

Level 12 - Barbarian: We can now Rage up to four times per long rest.

We get a new subclass upgrade. With Spirit Shield, our ancestral spirits now provide aid to those we defend. While we're raging, and a creature we can see within 30 feet of us takes damage, we can reduce the damage by 2d6.

Level 13 - Barbarian: At this point, our Feral Instincts are so sharp we have an advantage on our Initiative rolls.

Level 14 - Barbarian: Time for another ASI. Let's round up our Strength and put the other point into Dexterity.

Level 15 - Barbarian: Our additional damage while raging now becomes a +3.

We now get a Brutal Critical. Whenever we score a critical hit (Natural 20), apart from doubling our weapon damage die, we roll one more of the same die and add it to the score.

Level 16 - Barbarian: At this point, our Spirit Shield reduces the damage dealt to our allies by 3d6.

We also get another subclass upgrade. With Consult the Spirits, we can now use our ancestral warriors to cast either the Augury or Clairvoyance spells without a spell slot or material components once per short or long rest.

Level 17 - Barbarian: With Relentless Rage, we can now fight despite death. If we drop to 0 Hit Points while raging (and don't get damaged enough to insta-kill us), we can make a DC 10 Constitution saving throw and gain 1 Hit Point on a success. Each time we use this feature after the first, the DC raises by 5 and resets after we finish a short or long rest.

Level 18 - Barbarian: We get the final ASI of the build and we put two points into our Dexterity. We can also now Rage five times before rest.

Level 19 - Barbarian: Our Brutal Critical increases to two additional dice when scoring a Natural 20.

Level 20 - Barbarian: We end with Barbarian 14, which ends with another subclass upgrade. With Vengeful Ancestors, we can truly pull the Uno Reverse Card. When we use our Spirit Shield (which now reduces damage by 4d6), besides just reducing damage, the spirits now deal force damage to the target, equal to the damage prevented.

---

And that is Eda Athena, the Owl Lady! Let's see what we got:

To start off, we're a tank with many protection options for both us and our allies. With increased movement, advantages on initiative and damage-dealing rolls, plus some protection spells, we can easily lead and strategize.

With a half-plate and a shield our AC is 17, we have a +2 to our Initiative, 40 feet of movement, and an average HP of 175.

Unfortunately, our spell repertoire is not great, negative modifier to our Intelligence (if you want to fix that, be sure to hunt for the Headband of Intellect), and no ability maxed to 20.

---

Okay, I think this is not a bad build. As always, treat these as suggestions and modify your own builds as you please. I hope you've enjoyed yourselves and I'll see you in the next one!

- Nerdy out!

#smite #hirez smite #protector aasimar #aasimar #dnd build #dnd #d&d 5e #dungeons and dragons #greek gods #athena #paladin #oath of the crown #barbarian #ancestral guardian

54 notes · View notes

littlemisspascal · 3 years

Text

Ezra’s Journal Entries #1-3

Fandom: Prospect / Pedro Pascal

Pairing: Ezra x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,269

Summary: You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe.

Warnings: angsty fluff, Ezra’s dealing with the aftermath of the Green, language, 1st person POV (Ezra), dialogue in italics because that’s just how I chose to do it, no beta so all mistakes are mine

Author Note: I know I said Death and Angel would come out next, but I got such a inspiration high and the words came out so quickly I just told myself screw it and decided to share what I have. If anyone thinks this is a series worth pursuing, let me know. If you don’t, well, just be gentle please 💖

Cross-posted on AO3

Entries #4-6

Look for additional notes at the bottom.

My name is Ezra.

I have my mama to thank for that. Time has erased her face from my memory, but her voice is ingrained into the tissue of my brain the same way these words are inked on this parchment. She was a bonafide believer that the meaning of a child’s name influenced the course of their destiny. When I was no taller than the height of her waist I learned my own name’s denotation: help.

It’s just a tick too ironic, isn’t it? To be destined to help others when I can’t help my own self. I gave the Green far too little credit. It didn’t just pilfer my arm to satisfy its ravenousness, it greedily stole my sense of purpose too.

Every night I thank the deities you didn’t accompany me there. If the Green had taken you...

I know how worried you are about me, little love of mine. When I look at you, I find you already looking back, a sweet smile gracing your lips even as concern burns in your eyes as an eternal flame. From day one you’ve always been looking at me, seeing every disgraced flaw and scar—even the invisible ones carved into the darkest edges of my soul. Kevva knows I’ve never been capable of concealing anything from you, but fuck if I don’t wish I could sometimes.

You’re asleep now as I write this, tucked against my side in the vacant space my arm once occupied, drooling on my shirt. I love you so much it hurts. A black hole in my chest perpetually aching to be filled by your presence. And as we venture once more into the starry sea, our ship gliding past the imaginary wings of Noctua, I find myself recalling a theory you once told me many cycles ago about humans being made in the womb with stardust infused in their bones, linking them to the universe. You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe.

And it’s undoubtedly selfish, but all I could think of in that tender moment beyond kissing you was how I didn’t want an eternity spent together with our cosmic bodies intertwined.

I want longer.

Soon after we awoke and each consumed a slice of bush bread bought during our recent docking at Kamrea, you fiddled with the channels on the ship’s radio, hoping to hear news from your homeworld but cursing when you only heard static. Then, without an ounce of forewarning, music burst out with an almighty scream through the speakers at full volume, flooding the whole compartment with a woman’s warbling. It was the same crusted Vayok song that merc Inumon blared in my ears during my last night on the Green, every note an individual needle piercing my skull, impossible to ignore.

Reality deserted me, leaving me to sink to the depths of the abyss within my mind where all I could see was Cee’s pale, disturbed expression as she looked to me for guidance. I remembered how my tongue felt clumsy in my mouth as I tried my damnedest to negotiate our transport, thinking if I could just piece together the right sequence of words, if I could just get their lingering eyes off of her, then maybe, maybe we’d have a chance at salvation.

The memories coalesced, overlapping and blurring and mixing out of order. Each one was drenched in spilt blood.

Then your pinky wrapped around mine. The touch was soft yet firm, the action childlike in its innocence. It was such a jarring contradiction to my mind’s violent narrative, my consciousness was hurtled back into the living quarters of our ship as a result. You didn’t say anything when you saw I returned to you. Instead, you swallowed down the questions lodged in your throat and led me by our entwined fingers back to our bed.

There’s a plant back home called a dandelion, you told me with my head resting in your lap, a far better comfort than any pillow could provide me. It’s the only plant in the galaxy you can see the sun, the moon and the stars when you look at it. That’s not why it’s my favorite though.

I asked how it had won your heart’s favor if not due to its resemblance to the celestial bodies, then immediately found myself mesmerized by the smile that lit up your face as you peered down at me. My chest cavity tightened as I was filled with the profound longing to be able to suspend time, if only so I could stretch this moment to match the length of our separation, if only so I could erase the old and replace it with the beautiful new.

Dandelions grant wishes, babe. Anything you wish for with your whole heart, it will be yours to have.

I told you I wouldn’t wish for anything—nothing else in the galaxy could compare to the prettiest, wisest soul I’d ever encountered in all my years traversing it. You saw right through that lie with the same confident ease you see through all my masks and diversions, but—for the second time in the span of an hour—you held your tongue.

This journal’s as good a place as any to admit the honest truth. So here it is: I wish with the entirety of my bloody, beating heart I could be the man you deserve, little love of mine.

When you read, whether it be a book or the flight manual, you have the precious habit of mouthing the words. I don’t think you have the faintest notion you’re even doing it, which makes it all the more endearing to watch.

My brother had a similar habit, always nose deep in the yellowing pages of classic literature, except he had a proclivity to spoil the plot when he talked in his sleep. I remember there was one particular novel he returned to often, sometimes reading from beginning to end, other times seeking out specific segments he’d underlined in bold, black pen. It was a rather dreary tale about war and rivalry and the process of determining one’s own identity. I became so exasperated with my brother’s obsession I considered shredding it on more than one occasion, only to immediately hate myself for entertaining the thought.

It was only after his death—twelve whole cycles, in fact—that I summoned up the will to open the front cover. Seeing his name scribbled in the corner, cursive and neat and so utterly him, nearly had me tearing the book in half, overcome with a vicious rage I had never known prior nor have I encountered since. But by the almighty grace of Kevva I reigned it in, chaining it to the agony and fear imprisoned within the confines of my rib cage, and turned the page.

There was one segment underlined not once, but three times, nearly bleeding ink onto the page behind it. When I close my eyes, the words are tattooed on the backs of my eyelids, as haunting as they are comforting.

So the more things remained the same, the more they changed after all. Nothing endures. Not love, not a tree, not even a death by violence.

The author lived and died centuries before my brother’s inception, that is an inarguable fact.

But I know those words were written for him all the same.

Notes:

There is an actual theory humans are made of stardust ✨

The Sater within Prospect mention the Currents as being responsible for bringing Ezra and Cee to them, so I imagine them as similar to the Fates/Moirai in Greek mythology.

Noctua is a real life, extinct constellation that is Latin for owl. I thought within this Prospect universe it could exist as a type of landmark or coordinate. Plus I love owls 🦉

Crusted is a term from Prospect Ezra uses. Equivalent of damn. I think there’s something funny about how they use creamy as a positive adjective and crusted as negative.

Vayok is the alien language Inumon speaks within the movie, so I decided to write the song she blares as being sung in the same language

Bush bread is referenced in a deleted scene by Ezra, but a google search revealed to me it’s also a real life type of bread too

In the same deleted scene Ezra references that he has a brother. I haven’t decided his name yet/if he will have one

The book and quote Ezra refers to in #3 is John Knowles’ A Separate Peace. One of the few required reading books I liked back in high school.

The quote about dandelions being the sun, moon and stars is based on the legend of how dandelions came into existence. I always thought it was beautiful.

Series Taglist: @insomniamamma

Permanent Taglist: @promiscuoussatan, @melobee, @randomness501, @absurdthirst, @captain-jebi, @artsymaddie, @happiestsparkleofall, @disgruntledspacedad, @gallowsjoker, @aerynwrites, @vintagesaph, @sylphene, @chibi-yuki, @freeshavocadoooo, @stilllivindue2spite, @pointy-sharp, @leilei-draws, @over300books, @theocatkov, @oh-no-a-whovian, @you-and-i-deserve-the-world, @lin-djarin, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @coaaster, @waywardmando, @thisshipwillsail316, @grogusmum, @asta-lily, @mylifeofcalculatedchaos @tacticalsparkles

#ezra #ezra prospect #Prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ezra's journal #prospect fanfiction #ezra fanfic #my fic #my writing #pedrostories

219 notes · View notes

scarletarosa · 4 years

Text

Pluto

Greek god of death; King of the Underworld

Pluto (also Pluton or Hades) is the king of the Greek Underworld (which is called Hades) and is the lord of death. He presides over funeral rites and defends the right of the dead to their due burial. Pluto is also the god of the hidden wealth of the earth, from the fertile soil which nourishes the seed-grain, to the mined wealth of gold, silver, and other metals. One of the gods who works alongside him is Thanatos, who holds power over gentle deaths (while Pluto is death in general). In one myth, Pluto was said to have brought a plague to inflict Thebes after the king refused to give proper burials to warriors, which depicts Pluto’s harsher aspect of delivering death and justice. Pluto was also usually regarded as an infertile god, for a god of death should, by his very nature, be incapable of siring any children.

Pluto was depicted as a dark-bearded, regal god. He was depicted as either enthroned in Hades, holding a bird-tipped sceptre, or as the giver of wealth, pouring fertility from a cornucopia. The Romans named him Dis, or Pluto, the Latin form of his Greek title Plouton, "the Lord of Riches."

Myths: According to Hesiod, Pluto’s parentage is said to be of Kronos (god of time) and Rhea (goddess of earth and motherhood). He was said to have been devoured by Kronos along with four of his siblings while the infant Zeus was secretly hidden away by Rhea after his birth. When Zeus later returned and fought Kronos, his siblings were spat out and together they drove the titan gods from the heavens and locked them away in the pit of Tartaros. When the three victorious brothers then drew lots for the division of the cosmos, Hades received the third portion, the dark gloomy realm of the Underworld, as his domain. However, in another version of Pluto’s parentage, it is said by the Orphics that he is actually the son of Nyx (goddess of night) and Olethros (god of doom). In my workings with Pluto and Nyx, they have said the latter myth to be the true version, which makes Pluto the half-brother of deities such as Eris (strife), Philotes (unity), Hemera (daylight), Aether (god of the aether and upper light), etc.

In another myth, Pluto had desired a bride and petitioned Zeus to grant him one of his daughters. The god offered him the young Persephone, the daughter of Demeter. However, knowing that Persephone would resist the marriage, he assented to the forceful abduction of the girl and carried her away on his chariot as she cried out for help. When Demeter learned of this, she was furious and in great despair, causing a great dearth to fall upon the Earth until her daughter was safely returned. Zeus was eventually forced to concede lest mankind perish, and the girl was fetched forth from the Underworld. However, since she had eaten the pomegranate seed after being deceived by Pluto, she was forced to return to him for a portion of each year.

Apollodorus in the following passage summarizes the contents of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter (quoted here in the following section). Pseudo-Apollodorus, Bibliotheca 1. 29-33 (trans. Aldrich) (Greek mythographer C2nd A.D.):

“Plouton [Haides] fell in love with Persephone, and with Zeus' help secretly kidnapped her. I begin to sing of rich-haired Demeter Semne Thea (Reverend goddess) - of her and her trim-ankled daughter [Persephone] whom Aidoneus rapt away, given to him by all-seeing Zeus the loud-thunderer. Apart from Demeter Lady of the golden sword (khrysaoros), Giver of glorious fruits (aglaokarpos), she was playing with the deep-bosomed daughters of Okeanos and gathering flowers over a soft meadow, roses and crocuses and beautiful violets, irises also and hyacinths and the narcissus, which Ge (Earth) made to grow at the will of Zeus and to please the Host of Many [Haides], to be a snare for the bloom-like girl...The girl was amazed and reached out with both hands to take the lovely toy; but the wide-pathed earth yawned there in the Nysion plain, and the lord, Host of Many, with his immortal horses sprang out upon her...

He caught her up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. Then she cried out shrilly with her voice, calling upon her father, the Son of Kronos [Zeus], who is most high and excellent. But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tender-hearted Hekate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaios, heard the girl from her cave, and the lord Helios (the Sun), Hyperion's bright son, as she cried to her father, the Son of Kronos [Zeus]. But he was sitting aloof, apart from the gods, in his temple where many pray, and receiving sweet offerings from mortal men. So he, that Son of Kronos [Haides], of many names...was bearing her away by leave of Zeus on his immortal chariot--his own brother's child and all unwilling. And so long as she, the goddess, yet beheld earth and starry heaven and the strong flowing sea, and still hoped to see her dear mother [Demeter] and the tribes of the eternal gods, so long hope calmed her great heart for all her trouble; and the heights of the mountains and the depths of the sea rang with her immortal voice: and her queenly mother heard her.”

Appearance: A man in his 40’s with tanned skin, black hair, a short black beard, and black eyes (only the irises). He wears a black toga and often has a solemn expression.

Personality: Pluto is very solitary, withdrawn, just, fair, serious, aloof, brooding, and compassionate. He requires his followers to respect the resting places of the dead, to show humility, and to overcome their toxic ways. He is one who understands that we all must go through the depths of suffering if we wish to gain wisdom and become better people. Yet this is something very difficult to do, so he is glad to assist along this path if one politely requests him to do so. Pluto is also a healer, but only in regards to mental sufferings due to loss and regrets; other things are not specialties of his. Pluto is a highly respectable deity and will be the guardian of many of us once we die (unless we enter a different kingdom). One should not speak cruelly of him or disrespect him due to his role as a divine king, lest they seek to invoke his wrath.

Personal experiences: Pluto embodies a feeling of immense loneliness, and had even bound himself to the Underworld as he felt that he could belong nowhere else. But in doing this, he is unable to leave this realm for very long and has made it very difficult for him to find a companion. So, in an act of desperation, he kidnapped Persephone when he saw her in a meadow one day and carried her off to his realm as she raged against him. He pleaded with her to listen and be understanding, but of course, someone who has been kidnapped does not respond well to this. So Pluto kept her locked up in his palace hoping that she would eventually calm down and come to want to understand him, but instead, Persephone became angrier and even more desperate to escape. This soon led Pluto to force himself upon her, and he continued this for ages. After a very long time of being kept prisoner, Persephone finally managed to be rescued by other deities, but she was not the same and had lost her connection to flowers due to her stay in the Underworld. She has been traumatized ever since and harbours great anger towards Pluto and any who change the myths about what had occurred. Pluto, however, is not the same as he was before and is repenting for his actions.

Nowadays, Pluto is a better version of his old self but still pains over his solitude. However, he does receive some company from some visiting family members such as Nyx and a few of his siblings, like Philotes. However, one is not advised to enter the Underworld through astral travel unless they are highly experienced and are granted permission to enter since this realm is not a pleasant place and some areas can even cause insanity. Despite this dark, abysmal domain, Pluto is a very understanding and patient god who is not quick to judge others and helps us to overcome our past evils in order to be reborn. Pluto also has a very strong understanding of pain and solitude, and what these emotions can turn a person into, so he can assist in healing these burdening emotions from our hearts.

He has explained that Pluto is his true name while Hades is simply the name of the portion of the Underworld which he rules over (as the Underworld is immensely vast and has multiple kingdoms such as Kur, Duat, Helheim, etc). His role as king of Hades is to watch over the spirits of the dead who enter his domain; where they are then tormented in order to overcome their wrong-doings, negative habits/emotions, and harmful obsessions. It is not like Hell, since only evil spirits go there and they are tortured for eternity in far worse ways; the Underworld is moreso a place of harsh lessons and rebirth before one is allowed entrance to Elysium. The torments of the Underworld are also all symbolic and assist the spirit in realizing what they must change about themselves before they can become anew, yet this process usually takes many years (sometimes decades or centuries). Pluto also has power over death itself (since he embodies it) and has explained that the god Thanatos is an aspect of himself, representing a small portion of his own power. Pluto also has the power of illusion, which makes him able to cause spirits and humans alike to see whatever he wants them to see (even able to manipulate one’s astral senses).

Some of Pluto’s Epithets:

Adámastos (Unconquerable)

Adesius (The Grave)

Agelastus (Melancholic)

Aidis (The Unseen)

Amænthis (The One who Gives and Receives)

Ánax (King)

Eubulius (The Consoler of Sorrow)

Feralis Deus (The Dismal God)

Larthy Tytiral (Sovereign of Tartaros)

Moiragetes (Guide of the Fates)

Nekrôn Sôtêr (Saviour of the Dead)

Opertus (The Concealed)

Polydegmôn (Host of Many)

Pluton (Lord of Riches)

Offerings: ginger ale, spiced rum, well water, ginger root, plums, mushrooms, eggplant, beetroot, parsnips, black peppercorns, bones, ash, scorpions, vipers, clay pots, black candles, styrax incense, chalk powder, black or grey rags, sceptres, scythes, black or dark purple cloaks, ebony wood, black leather moccasins, moleskin, old silver coins, bronze, silver, ivory, rust, obsidian, onyx, jet, charcoal

The Underworld

#pluto #pluton #hades #the underworld #greek gods #hellenic polytheism #hellenism #deity work

164 notes · View notes

incarnateirony · 5 years

Photo

The start of a gallery regarding Belphegor and the guys, but including a great deal of meta and extra gifs behind the cut, including relevance explicitly to Dean and Castiel, as well as Belphegor’s mythological relevance.

Edit: Since this post is making the rounds I’ma drop in my Belphegor meta-fanvid too. The meta/extra gifs are below the vid.

youtube

Yeah I know I’m a day late, no I don’t know if anyone has beaten me to this, I know some people beat me to talking about belphegor beyond me vagueblog screaming about him showing up on twitter with livetweets. For those who haven’t seen:

Belphegor - a Moabite god absorbed into Hebrew lore and then Christianity as a major DEMON. The name Belphegor means “lord of opening” or “lord Baal of Mt. Phegor.” As a Moabite deity, he was known as Baal-Peor and ruled over fertility and sexual power. He was worshipped in the form of a phallus. -- that giant rock he talked about worshipping, there you go.

In the KABBALAH, Belphegor was an angel in the order of principalities prior to his fall. He is one of the Togarini, “the wranglers.” He is an archdemon who is part of the demonic counterparts to the angels who rule the 10 sephirot of the Tree of Life; he rules over the sixth sephirah. He sits on a pierced chair, for excrement is his sacrificial offering. In Christian demonology, Belphegor is the incarnation of one of the SEVEN DEADLY SINS, sloth, characterized by negligence and apathy. According to St. Thomas Aquinas, all sins that arise from ignorance are caused by sloth.

Belphegor also rules misogyny and licentious men. He emerged from HELL to investigate the marital state among humans. For a time, he lived as a man to experience sexual pleasures. Appalled, he fled back to hell, happy that intercourse between men and women did not exist there.-- here’s the big block that I find fascinating.

Gully, Rosemary. 2009. The Encyclopedia of Demons and Demonology. New York: Visionary Living, Inc., pp. 27-28.

(For more discussion of Belphegor’s history and mythology on this blog, click this link (x) but I’m mostly narrowing it down to what’s relevant for address here.)

With that out of the way, I refer you to the gallery above, which is only a fraction of what I’ve clipped from the episode.

(Edit: As new things have come to light with a rewatch, or as new thoughts come up, I’ve been reblogging this post with additions; however, at the end of the post, I’m going to make headline titles for update thresholds and include it in here as a sort of Belphegor introduction masterpost. Any time I get to glance at part of this episode again it just gets LOUDER.)

The camera work is uncanny. Castiel and Dean are repeatedly cast not only as a unit, or Sam blotted off, or divided, but of a point of focus. A few more examples:

Oh wow Belphegor really just staring at them.

Think I’m just choosing frames I like? Check back at the scene. Whenever Sam engages it’s literally from a different, peripheral shot as so:

This filming style isn’t single shots, but the entire scene. Oh, I don’t mean the entire scene, I mean the entire episode. The only place this rule wavers is when literally everybody is packed in the Impala, including when they save the mother and child, and until people decompress it’s impossible to do such controlled shots.

But then there IS when they decompress as I put in the original gallery.

Belphegor sits witness to the pain and upset over Cas, unable to look at him. And, shortly after talking about the giant penis he used to worship and flirting with Dean, asks who the child was to them after Cas has stormed out, finding out about it being their son.

At this point both Castiel and Dean have had their standoffs with Belphegor, which I side by sided in the top gallery. But Dean’s integration with Belphegor goes an entirely extra level.

We’ll handwave any deep readings about the heart of a man being needed -- but the simple fact is, as we know, this is when Dean and Belphegor encounter the white woman.

That alone is a fascinating point;

Whether you take Sam’s encounter as his serial killer fetish, or his clown phobia, or some people’s read of toxic parenting, or a combination of these -- the first two more likely to tickle the general audience -- this is clear.

Whether you take Cas’ encounter with Bloody Mary as the secret about Jack and guilt over Mary, or the secret over the Empty and general guilt over failing Jack, his connection is loudly clear.

The woman in white was a spouse betrayed by her partner and driven to madness where she killed her children and then herself -- something fairly clear if we remember the metaphorical ledge Dean was on at the end of the season that he steered away from, but the argument continues.

Blahblah *heterosexual handwave* just subtext just interpretation only the other two matter for Reasons(TM), we know how that will go. This, or the random divorce drop from the victim girls for totally inoccuous and random reasons aside, is just a worthwhile note to put in here as we consider the framing of Belphegor.

Throughout the episode, Sam has no identifiable major exchange with Belphegor. He happens to be in the vicinity, occasionally mediating Dean and Cas, or in the same car, but there is no forward led conversation, there is no personal tension or banter, and most of all there isn’t even any attempt at directorial focus. If anything, directorial blotting. Sam’s plot shines more in being a forward moving, smart hunter mediating the two here, but if we’re here to look at Belphegor--

As Castiel sadly watches the rescued mother and child go to the school, in the wake of the death of his son, Dean only tersely checks on him. It’s strained, and Castiel is left staggered, only for us yet again to find Belphegor framed into the conversation, observing, as he has through the previous shots.

Belphegor’s placement is right between Dean and Cas, leaving it almost inevitable that as we move forward, he will annex emotional territory if by trust or nuisance to dig a deeper wound and antagonize the marriage he observes dissolving in front of him, a very personal and living manifestation of their struggles for these two to overcome, and inevitably part of what will send Castiel away briefly in 15.3 as he feels himself growing more and more detached from the Winchesters -- particularly Dean, as Sam is actively still engaging with him as is typical of them but like Entertainment Weekly recently put it, Castiel does has his favorite Winchester, and they’re totally-not-going-through-divorce-waves here, just totally heterosexual brovorce, of course.

Given considering my position of the overt and present canonicity of their relationship please note I’m only writing sarcastically towards the inevitable stupidity that haunts this fandom via anti dialogue and those that internalize it, but here it is, folks.

If anyone wants to even try to challenge me, I invite them to find Sam drawing belphegor’s focus on any front or being framed in the shots as Castiel and Dean are here. Belphegor is ... going to be a ride, folks. Buckle up. He’s literally been observing the hunter husbands, wracked with pain over the loss of their child, in active conflict despite their lingering stance as a unit, having held his ground with both of them to feel out their pain and rage each to themselves, and left to sit, and watch, and find what dark humor he may watch from them.

“Wanna talk about it?”

(Suggested reading: check out @tinkdw‘s post about them dividing Cas from his humanity *ba dum chink* and focusing on his angelicness this episode)

----

UPDATE 1

A belated addendum a few hours late I forgot to include but intended to: It has not escaped me that Dean and Cas also were both part of Belphegor’s spell casting. The aforementioned heart of a man with the trivial second ingredient of salt (truly not trivial at all in the alchemical scale of it, but that’s a topic for another time--just in SPNverse it seems weirdly easy; breaking down the alchemy in the last few seasons and the use of the salt in spell is its own essay), and the other common graveyard dirt and very conveniently angel blood. These things both created intensely powerful deus ex machinas that fall back to other points I made in the OP that are incredibly suspicious about the arrangement, and I’m more curious on if we should expect multiple parts of a spell eg reverse trials if you will or what.

I don’t consider these things a lack in SPN spellcasting integrity in writing. I consider these warnings.

UPDATE 2

Along with updates in the original post, someone posted this clip on twitter giggling about Dean’s expression, and something else I somehow missed the first time caught my eye.

youtube

Every time Belphegor opts to observe people or turn, while he comments on beauty and appearance (or stone penises or Dean being gorgeous), beyond his individual compliment of Dean – he is turning his head at couples. Or, well, we assume couples. At Units Of Two People. The two people units are:

A woman and a woman A man and a woman A man and a man.

Outside of the vehicle Belphegor is not taking any particular time paying attention to individuals. Only duos. The two women pass in front of the hearts, and one (the woman in khaki) even gestures at it to sort of make the woman in green look.

The man and the women walk by, vaguely locking arms.

Belphegor looks straight between these units. He leans forward, discussing people on earth being attractive. He turns and looks out the window to observe the two men now walking past the window with hearts.

Drops the comment about worshipping a giant penis, and so forth.

But the direct observation of duos, potentially queer ones literally framed in hearts in case anybody misses it for not being hetnorm, is… well, in lieu of the OP, this is. Yeah. It’s a whole thing. Holy crap.

UPDATE 3

This one isn’t necessarily big enough for a central update, and isn’t even entirely Belphegor focused as Belphegor adjacent. A friend ( @tarend ) had asked passively why bikes were so prominently featured in this episode, so here’s what I’ve found.

The green and blue bikes feature predominantly in the clown victim house from the first scene we see the garage, fairly early in the episode and every other showing until they’re extracted from the house. Often central, doorway, access, or backshadow in most shots. Trying to pin it on a single character would be ignoring the broadness of it, but the presence was enough to take note of.

Various two people units roll around with bikes of different and more muted colors.

The two dudes, one of them has a green bike and one has a grocery sack which I imagine ISN’T fruit from the tree of life.

I do find it weird and, especially since the green and blue bike collectively manage to get several shared minutes of screen time in a busy episode, I have to wonder, but I can’t find anything meaningful here without jumping to the common “green and blue” thing and a random joke-reach towards Queen which isn’t really my flavor of meta despite it even kind of matching the people passing by. The overlap is there and tangible, regardless, and passes in the background of Belphegor, so I’ll leave that here as a general sentiment.

Compared to the above gold mine of far more overt material, if this ever was intended to be an intentional nod of some sort, I feel like it’s been overshadowed entirely by the other content which might as well have been blasted from a bull horn, but maybe someone else can find use in it in association. Aside from the street highlights in the car while Dean sits by with Belphegor, the prominent double bike placement is best witnessed rather than screenshot into eternity in any scene involving Clown House Garage.

Though I may point out the dynamic impala shot with the paired bikes in the background is immediately followed by a stroller that colllectively haunt the three people in the car, but whether I’d swear to that being intentionally syncretic, I’m unsure. But I do feel it’s worth notating.

I’m sure you all know I’m guarded about things like this fandom’s build on key colors and don’t apply it in meta outside of standard lighting theory, and generally even props are things I ignore unless they’re actual framing and blocking focuses, but the bikes do ride a line. They just lack the overall thematic story use most things I talk about do, like mystic symbols and the ilk. I would probably completely disregard this were it not for the other elements above, but now I’ll be keeping an eye on it.

UPDATE 4

Yet another thought more from @tarend than me, but his ass just about never posts so I might as well plug it into the viral post with some credit.

There seems to be painstaking effort to frame Belphegor with stop signs.

Cough

Crack aside it’s just some angle play that could be coincidence but I’m going to be throwing that out there for meta fodder for others while this spreads around until I can truly rewatch since life is seriously climbing me right now.

Tarend also points out the school was named after The Great Dissenter (Link).

I’m going to have a bit of a comparative study on Belphegor’s and Chuck’s mannerisms for consideration but life didn’t even give me 30 minutes for a video edit today much less a rewatch.

#supernatural #spn #15.01 #final season #belphegor #directing #divorce #15x01 #15.1 #15x1 #back and to the future #destiel #deancas #meta #my meta #mine #tree of life #thagirion #tiphareth #art

718 notes · View notes

sennamybeloved · 3 years

Note

💤💬🛡 for any parental f/o?

thanks for asking! <3

💤: Would your parental F/O let you sleep with them if you had a bad nightmare?

of course! seren is a bit bad at asking for help, but karma is very understanding. she’s seldom separated from lucian and senna nowadays, but when she was small, she slept with karma very often, since she had a lot of nightmares. this was thanks to a traumatic experience she suffered. it affects her to this day, but not as much as when she was a child.

💬: Does your parental F/O have any nicknames for you?

i mentioned this in a previous ask, but karma calls seren starlight. her subspecies of vastaya is defined by their celestial attributes. they aren’t particularly strong or respectable - like lunar deities, for example - but they worship the night. one of seren’s defining features are her star-like freckles. they cover her from head-to-toe, gathering in clusters on her face, shoulders back and hips. they glitter like - you guessed it - stars. that’s why karma calls seren her little starlight <3

🛡: Does your parental F/O get mad on your behalf/are they protective?

she absolutely does. seren suffered a lot as a child ans it seperated her from her peers. karma was always on the defense, ready to defend her daughter from anyone who dare add to her suffering.

even so, karma is a peaceful being. no amount of anger would drive her to hurt another - that is, until, she met two of the noxians who started it all.

during a small-scale invasion, they made they mistake of bragging. the bragged about the brutal massacre of an entire species of rare vastaya. they bragged about leaving their camp in ruins; not a single toy, tapestry or herb was salvageable. they bragged, going on an on about their achievements, all while being completely unaware that they left one of them - a small child - alive. this child was seren, karma’s adoptive daughter who grew up to fast and struggled to accept love until the day she disappeared. karma is insightful, magical; she knew seren was still alive - but she hadn’t seen her in years. overcome with grief, rage and bitter memories of the child’s anguish, she harnessed her powers and wiped their wicked grins off the face of runeterra.

#lotus answers #familial pairing;; welcome home #✦ * · ˚ — self insert: seren .#tw murder mention #tw death mention #tw trauma mention #【 🎋 】 ✦ * · ˚ — oh enlightened one │ p: karma .

6 notes · View notes

kneesheee · 4 years

Text

a surprising adoption

DAY THREE: OMEGAVERSE | [ACCIDENTAL BABY ACQUISTION]

It all started with Hermes.

Of course, it did.

He was the god of thievery.

He was also considered the god of speed.

When his nephew, Kyle, started hanging around those mortal speedsters. He was intrigued. Diana, Donna, and Cassie tended to keep him away from their mortal friends.

He never met anyone that was as fast as he was. Even Apollo didn’t count since he tended to beat his friend on occasions.

Hermes was only the god of speed. These speedsters embodied speed. With a mischievous smile on his face, Hermes set off to pull of his greatest heist yet.

The person up next was Apollo and Hephaestus. They each took one looked at the redheaded archer that Jason was friends with, and both went: “Adoption time.”

It was awkward for both when they appeared outside of Roy’s workshop. They stared blankly at each other before both dived for the door. The two wrestled with Apollo coming out of top when Roy half asleep and more than a little paranoid had one of his exploding arrows pointed at their faces.

The stance. The detailing of the weaponry. The fierce look in his eyes. The half brothers shared a glance before nodding their heads.

With a slow smirk dancing on their faces, they reached for the mortal and disappeared from the earthly plane.

The next person to go was the man of willpower himself.

Ares had taken one look at Hal and just knew.

He kneeled with broken fists and knees. A part still untamed. He denied his truth self because he couldn’t stand to cause his friends pain. Ares decided to help him. This little mortal. This little child.

He understood where he was coming. Being the personification of war itself. He knew how hard it was to push down the urges. Maybe that’s why he always admired the little solider. From the second he saw him next Kyle.

It wasn’t his so-called willpower to overcome fear. It was his willpower to be better. He could see it in his eyes the need to cause destruction… the need to let all his grief and anger out being held back by a stubborn mindset and a sense of duty.

Ares knew rage. And he knew how deadly it could be when not properly managed. It had taken Kyle a while to learn how to use a weapon filled with an emotion he rarely gets to see.

The man of willpower was staring into nothing when Ares came for him. He could feel how the man reacted. The need to fight was strong.

He turned towards the god slowly with his ring beginning to glow. Ares smiled at him with all teeth before reaching out and taking him away.

After all, Ares wondered the same thing every day.

When will my war be done?

Kyle had just made it back to Earth when the Justice League called for a meeting. He was surprised to see Jason there. He knew that Jason was still considered public enemy number one. Yet, the other demigod had a blanket wrapped around him as Diana and Donna comforted him. Green Arrow was sitting beside them with his head in his hands and Dinah rubbing circles into his back.

He wasn’t the only one looking miserable or worried. Jay Garrick, Max Mercury, and Iris West-Allen were all sitting together. The woman was still crying. Not too far away from them Nightwing was sitting stock stilled. The emotions that Kyle was getting from him were filled with worry and confusion and pain. Wonder Girl and Superboy were huddled together around Red Robin as they all looked blankly around the room.

When he and the others stepped into the room, all eyes fluttered towards them. Dread filled Kyle when Diana and Donna’s face pinched. No. The last time the two of them looked so broken and closed to crying was when Jason died. Kyle couldn’t lose anyone else.

Donna walked towards him slowly wrapping him into her arms, “Oh Kyle.” He was already shaking his head. No. “Kyle, Hal’s missing.”

Hal? Hal who was basically his mortal dad. Hal who listened to him bitch and complain about his Olympian family and teased him relentlessly about the crush he had on Jason. Hal who was the reason that he was introduced to this group of highly weird people that he loved all the same. Hal who trained with him on using the rings and laughed when he used it the way his family taught him. Hal who told him that no matter what… never suppress his emotions. They are what make him.

Hal?

He could feel John and Guy right behind him. He could sense Jessica and Simon moving closer to their group. “No. No. No,”

Superman stood up from his chair, “And he’s not the only one. Flash, Kid Flash, and Impulse were taken earlier today around 2 o’clock. Witnesses claim that it was streak of silver greenish light that snatched them away. And thanks to the Red Hood and Starfire, we’ve learned that Arsenal has also turned up missing. Taken directly from his workshop. Whoever taken him was good enough to not set off any alarms, but still decided that force entry was the key. We’ve only just realized that Hal was missing due to trying to reach him when witnesses also state that a bright blood red light taken him.”

Kyle could almost throw up. Two of his friends and Hal?

“Does anyone have any leads,” stated Batman as he gazed around the room. Kyle could sense the worry the man held for his children’s emotional state, but he did his best to shove them away. Donna led Kyle over towards Diana and Jason. Cassie huddled closer towards her effectively moving Superboy and Red Robin closer to their pile also.

[Neither Jason nor Kyle would admit how could it always felt to be around other godlings. Especially during times like this.]

The meeting dragged on and on. Jason had long ago zoned out. He was vibrating with worry about Roy. It was enough that only Kori could hold on to him now for comfort. The power of the sun and light burning in his blood making his unnaturally cold skin give almost third-degree burns.

He zoned back in when Donna’s face appeared in his line of sight, “Come back to us, little sun. Diana suggested asking the gods for help. Roy and Hal are close to you and Kyle. Wally and Bart are Cassie and I’s best friends. Maybe they have seen something if not, we could always ask Apollyon what he knows of their future.”

Jason nodded his head slowly. If anything, he was perfectly fine with this plan. His best friend was missing. What he needed right now was a hug from his dad and maybe some of Aunt Demeter’s hot chocolate. Anything to distract him from whatever torture Roy could be going through right now. He chanced a glance at Kyle who was turning a little pale.

Ah, Jason forgot that being the wielder of a literal mood ring and the son of love was bad for Kyle when he was in an unfiltered setting. There were too many emotions for the other demigod right now.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Jason, Donna, and Kyle all stared blankly at the sight of five grown men dressed in onesies. Adult size onesies with typical baby slogans that you’d find in the toddler section of Walmart.

“Dad,” Jason stated. “What’s going on?”

The four gods looked up from arguing over a feeding schedule to stare at them. Hermes was the one to break out into a smile first flying over to the speedsters’ sides. “Look, you guys, it’s a speedy baby! 3 of them!”

The three of them could only stare. The three mortal speedsters looked simultaneously happy and miserable. [Though it leaned more towards happy since Uncle Hermes provided them with an all you can eat buffet.] Roy was bent over Hephaestus’ favorite workbench messing around with Apollo’s third favorite bow. [Only Jason could touch the second, and only Artemis could touch the first.] While the Speedsters may have looked slightly sad, Roy was downright ecstatic.

Hal was the only one to seem at true peace. Him and Ares were doing one of the war god’s meditation techniques. Kyle was sure that Hal’s ring was flickering white.

Hephaestus smiled slightly from where he was holding onto his anvil while Roy rattled on about the quality of Apollo’s bows. Apollo turned to look at the others, “We all had the same idea. A little surprise adoption goes a long way. Meet your cousins and half-brother.”

“Kidnapping,” Donna deadpanned. “You kidnapped them.”

Apollo rose a brow, “By human laws, they are much too old to be kids.”

“But you’re not human,” Kyle questioned. The god of plague turned his gaze onto the White Lantern and Kyle decided to be quiet. This was the same god who threatened to rip his urethra tube out with only a toothpick for not so accidently drawing Jason in nothing but a chlamys.

Donna nodded her head at Kyle’s words, “He’s right. You’re not humans. You’re gods. Deities who have lived for more than millennia. They are so young compared to you all that you really can’t even call them children.”

Hermes clapped his hands excitedly, “Exactly. Besides, your little mortal friends weren’t treating them with the respect they all deserve. So… we’re keeping them. Okay bye.”

The herald of the gods quickly flies away cackling. Jason took one glance at the floor surrounding the kidnapped mortals. There was no one Hermes was going to just let someone steal from him. He was the god of thieves. He did the stealing.

It wasn’t on the floor, but on their clothes instead. A rune that didn’t release any of them unless the god that took them allowed it.

Apollo smiled a little mockingly, “We have a council meeting to get to about the Amazons. Jason? Kyle? We leave them in your care.”

Donna choked on her laughter as she turned to Kyle and Jason, “Congratulations, it’s a boy.”

#jaykyleweek2020 #jaykyle #Jason Todd #Kyle Rayner #demigod au

13 notes · View notes

hyperewok1 · 3 years

Note

For Remi: Mind, Direct Hit, Determination. For Jillian: Vitality, Critical Hit, Control. For Jerrica: Strength, Tenacity, Gathering

Remi

MIND : What does your character do to cope with a stressful situation? Pray and meditate, drink in moderation and otherwise casually carouse with friends, cuddle with Alisaie, helping do things with her hair, and other assorted things that involve her.

DIRECT HIT : Which trait in others does your character value the most? Decisiveness. Other typical positive traits aside, but she's of a mind that those matter less if one is otherwise unwilling to act for one reason or another, especially in the face of Big Quest Evils.

DETERMINATION : Which emotion motivates your character to do what they do? Empathy towards helping others and the positive sort of pride as derived from being chosen by a god and thus having a sacred duty, that sense of duty thus being different from Nyomi, who is concerned with institutions as much as the cosmic balance of the Force, or Jillian, who doesn't really have a pre-existing concept of The Quest or prior expectation of literal miracles. (The nuances and contrasts between the Characters Wot Noms Plays are always entertaining to think on.)

Jillian

VITALITY : Describe your character’s physical health. (fit, fragile, chronic pain, etc.) Jillian's quite fit, but in the sense of having a very active lifestyle rather than outright training for it. She lived on a farm and probably started riding shortly after she could walk, after all. But since it was more riding than regular heavy lifting, she's still on the skinny side, and not particularly strong. And the Word is definitely contributing to her being especially robust in the face of being shot/clawed/bitten/etc, since she decidedly did not have too much preparation for that, though there's probably also a capacity for that to help her get back up when she really shouldn't be trying to.

CRITICAL HIT : What is your character’s biggest weakness? Do they try to overcome it? Jillian 'I am the only one who can' Cain (I am quite glad I came up with that bit of angst in that one story) fortunately has come to realize she doesn't have to do it alone, but she still feels a good bit guilty about collateral trauma involved in that, mostly towards poor Aloy who does not have the backing of one deity or spirit or another for moral support and did not have a sacred calling in the first place. But otherwise that raging martyr complex is still there and not something to be necessarily be fixed, though nowadays she's certainly quite glad for the company.

CONTROL : What is your character’s view of fate/destiny? Jillian thinks more about divine will than any sort of agnostic/unaligned sort of fate, naturally. She was certainly aware of notions of 'God has a plan for everyone', but never gave that much thought before, and now the context of that decidedly changed for her. She tries very much not to think about whether that inciting incident was planned in advance, since that leads into a lot of theologically complicated paradox of evil questions, and she doesn't have time for that anyways. But at the end of the day she was objectively chosen by the will of God, so he clearly does have a plan for her, and thus she��s nominally confident that God asks of one only as much as they're capable of handling. The minor issue is she's thus being asked quite a lot, but she's not really theologically equipped to do more than have faith in the ineffable plan and be thankful that she's been given the tools to do her thing. But overall these concepts are entirely too abstract for her, even before the bit where she's got more immediate issues anyways.

Jerrica

STRENGTH : What is your character’s greatest virtue? Jerrica will do anything for her daughter, period, no exceptions. To a lesser extent, she'll go to decent lengths for people she feels indebted to (the friendly kind of debt, not the crime kind of that that's also inevitably common in her neighborhoods, she'd be a bit less enthusiastic if she ended up in that sort of trouble, minor issues aside of the Mark being an awfully big loan, from a certain point of view).

TENACITY : Which skills does your character utilize to further their personal goals? Violence, mostly. A sailor's ropework would probably be put too good use if she ever had a reason to take someone alive, but that isn't going to be likely without strong incentive. The general school of hard knocks education will also be helpful for finding the people she wants to commit violence to, hopefully.

GATHERING : What is something material your character wishes they had more of? Cold, hard coin. Jerrica is very much of a mind that a healthy chunk of coin would solve 95% of her problems, mainly except for the bloody vengeance bit, and that's only because she wants to do that personally. If she had the spare coin, she wouldn't trust the average murderer for hire to get it done right and she isn't remotely convinced that Mr. Knife of Dunwall Daud and the Whalers assassins are anything but an urban myth.

#prompts #writing #D&D #deadlands #dishonored

3 notes · View notes

castielscarma · 3 years

Note

SPN pretending like Sam and Dean couldn't be happy or start a new life as lang as both of them were alive is gross af. They should've learned that they can establish their own life while staying close. Dean turned out to be the no 1-thing hindering Sam from getting a white-picket-fence-life. They couldn't be happy together in life, but in death everyhing is a-ok? Life was just suffering til you reached blissful death? Even if they had 1000 ppl on that bridge and Cas, it still would've been gross

Hi Nonnie! I mean there are (theological) philosophies that do indeed see life on Earth as some sort of Hell you have to suffer through or escape and others that see the immortal soul as the true great light (which it is imo <3) but view the body as the soul’s prisoner (like certain branches of Gnosticism). In that context, yes death is good. Even in the show, though Dean and Cas, and Sam have died they have somehow grown or learned something (i.e in the show Death has sometimes been used as a tool for growth or transformation) so there is a basis there for using death as something *more* than death, yeah? I’m kind of going back and forth with this still, even though it’s been weeks but... If Dean died saving some kids on a hunt, would I necessarily think it was a bad ending. No... He died saving children and then he’d go off to Heaven where he meets his loved ones, and he’s shown to be happy and we see all those loved ones. I think I’d be alright with that if done right (which it wasn’t). What I do have issues with is *how* that - Dean’s death - happened and... the timeframe. For all we know, Dean died a week later, a month later, 6 months later. Basically, it was not long. And that hits harder when we do know that they were finally free from Chuck and all the string-pulling. Now with what Dean said, that’s my main issue and it ties back to that Dean actually dies, yeah? For seasons, hell from the very beginning it’s established that Dean has *issues*. We don’t know what, but we know it’s there and over the arc of seasons, we do realize what they are. Dean is a person, despite his deep capacity for love, for taking care of people, for being nerdy and knowledgeable a person that has suffered numerous traumas. The death of his mother at the age of 4, the uprooting of his home and the drastic transformation of his father (that hinted at, his home life wasn’t perfect) still was reasonably stable. The knowledge about monster and demons being real, the forced responsibility of him to take care of his own brother which left him no room to be a child for himself, the times he saw his father be upset furious, the hints at abuse, (shouting, bruises, probably alcoholic rages), dealing with weapons and hunting as a kid, the sexualized encounters he had (whether that be him doing sexual favors for money, or people just viewing him through a sexual lense), the abandonment from his dad and we are not even into Dean being an adult yet. The constant Apocalypses, Sam leaving him and coming back, Dean being violated through Michael, the Mark of Cain, his time in Hell where he was a torturer and tortured, and then finally learning that God, this almighty deity had a hardon for him and had basically manipulated him (or rather events) his entire life for fun, because it was entertainment and thus Dean suspecting that everything that was good in his life (Sam, Jack, Cas, the love he felt for them, familial and romantic) was fake, that the worst of horrors, he was not real (I’m really sorry, this turned out way longer than I meant it to lol), ALL OF THAT and then to have Dean come to the realization, through Cas confessing his love and telling him that all he ever did and all he ever was was love. (Not saying that Dean reaching that point of he’s good with himself was only through Cas), Dean worked on that himself, just the prayer scene was a huge insight into that and Dean’s anger -- and boy did he have reason to be angry. To then have Dean say that it was only about him and Sam and then Dean dying totally invalidates Dean’s entire journey and growth as a character and it’s gross as fuck. Not to mention that it totally strengthens the co-dependent bond that Dean and Sam spent seasons trying to break. Sam in the finale was not a man imo who found peace. We didn't know about his wife, he named his son Dean (and while in other instances that would’ve worked just with how 15x20 was portrayed instead of it being a homage or honoring his brother it imo reeked of Sam clinging and the show regressing back to being a baby again). He was shown as haggard, sitting in Baby and reminiscing. Eileen who was a strong, capable woman, who Sam loved was tossed into the Empty (literally, since they totally erased her, Cas at least got a lame mention). Dean didn’t get to live. And Sam while living, didn’t have a life. So yeah, you are right in that it showed them (more Sam because he was the one alive) that he couldn’t function without Dean and it all regressed back to them being codependent. The theme of going back to the beginning, there is nothing wrong with that! But and here is the but, the characters are not regressing for that to happen. The theme of going back, of characters revisiting old themes, or places is to show that the characters have grown and evoled, that they are not the same. Regression is never the point in good storytelling! Not when the actual story claims to care for themes like free will, love and how that makes you better, found family - and how that is a shield and comfort, overcoming fear and trauma, themes of identity and how that identity is formed through the collective and individual experience said person has, like... all of that, the 15.20 episode totally butchered.

#ask castielscarma a question #anonymous #15x20 just no #Dean meta #my meta #tw abuse #narrative themes #that the finale decided to burn #supernatural finale

6 notes · View notes

puttingfingerstokeys · 4 years

Text

a matter of time

Once again, I’m back on my MK bullshit. This one’s kind of delving into morals, ethics, philosophy, and Liu Kang having a hard time of it, generally, but hey, ain’t that just the way of Kombat?

Ft. First Person Present Tense horseshit--Raiden being a dad. Liu Kang doing his fucking best.

As usual, tumblr doesn’t preserve italics and I’m too lazy to find ‘em. Unedited, blah blah blah

Broken Timeline (references to Restored Timeline)

“I cannot do this, Lord Raiden—there simply…. There is just no way…” The young fire god paces before Kronika’s hourglass, eyes shot through with sparks of anger, moisture shining on his cheeks. God he may be, but his heart is still that of a mortal and it bleeds for the pain he must cause. There are no words of comfort for him, nor of description to properly depict the true horror of that place into which he has just stepped. I do not envy him. I was born with this burden—not of time, of divinity—but that does not mean I cannot sympathize.

“What is it you cannot do?” There is time for reprimand later, as he is the Lord now, and I am not. I regard him carefully and the hourglass even more so. What it has done to him, the lines upon his young-old face, the worries that I see prowling through every inch of his body; this, too, pains me. He settles upon a large stone, fists tight, eyes downcast.

“Over and over, no matter what I do to shift the sands,” he grunts, keeping his voice low, hating the tears of frustration which he has already shed and fighting those that have yet to fall, “I cannot save them all. Someone falls—someone always falls, sometimes many.”

“…the Shirai-Ryu massacre.” The guess is a simple one, but weighty. He looks up, surprised, for but a moment, that I have guessed the current source of his distress. “I know this because I know your heart, Lord Liu Kang, and I have always known it… Furthermore, I have come to respect and appreciate its openness, warmth, and honesty—it is that heart which makes your fires burn so hot, but…”

“It… is a two-edged sword, isn’t it?” His shoulders sag and I am compelled to move closer, to stoop before and lay a hand upon him.

“Love is that way, yes—all emotions are, but love is the sharpest… not hate, or fear, or joy… Love. It is a root, remember that, and leads to all else.”

“I wish I didn’t—”

“No!” I snap vehemently, perhaps even more strongly than I’d anticipated doing. “No, do not speak those words aloud here, at the dawn of time… This void before all things is sacrosanct—our words affect it, even if we do not realize…” His eyes are wide, searching my face for exaggeration. He will find none. “More importantly, it affects us.”

“Forgive me, Teacher—I… it was the boy, Satoshi…” Liu Kang trails off. He need not finish his thought. I understand. As a deity, I have watched the lives of many mortals—they come and go, so fleeting in the grand scheme of things, but no less important for all that. I ache for the thought of those I have lost. He knows this pain as a mortal and perhaps is now beginning to understand that it is not unique to those with finite lives. Perhaps it is worse still for those who persist through the eons; we live with our grief, never quite mastering it.

“There are events which, in all of history, are pivotal to a certain outcome,” I explain gently, “as was our inevitable kombat to Kronika’s plans.”

“But we overcame it,” Liu Kang insists, his fists still clenched, hard, upon his lap. “You saved me—your decision to do that tipped the scales past where she could hope to control that outcome.”

“A one in a billion chance, nothing more,” I remind him, squeezing his shoulder and standing, hoping he will follow, hating to see him in this desperate position and myself, helpless to assist beyond my words.

“No!” This time, it is his turn to snap. “You can’t believe that—you can’t say that here, to me, like this… It isn’t…” He straightens and finally looks up at me. There are tears caught in his eyelashes, but resolution in the set of his jaw. Good. He will need that for what is to come. “It is not the Lord Raiden who chose me.”

“Even gods change.”

The look upon his face is one I remember well. It is frustration, stymied by words of someone he considers far wiser than he. If only he could know just how incorrect that supposition is. By virtue of my endless life, I should, by all rights, be wiser than the young Liu Kang, but I am not. I have been a fool, have known defeat and failure, and have carried grief and remorse as constant companions. That alone will change a person.

“It is that changeability which granted us a chance to defeat her. Kronika underestimated a great many things, including mortals… and the depths of my ire for those who would harm them. I became a god of vengeance at the ends of her strings, but she did not anticipate the desperation that would arise from my grief-tainted rage.” I cannot meet his eyes, not now, remembering that, so many times, in so many other timelines, Liu Kang had met his end at my hands.

“But Shinnok’s amulet!” His voice rings out in the roaring darkness and he claps his mouth shut, realizing the curse upon that name in this blank canvas of a place and time—or a lack of place and time; such things are difficult, verbally, to describe. “And the tainted Jinsei…”

“It was the lure of my father’s trinket, not the trinket itself, Lord Liu Kang, which corrupted me, the power granted by that tainted stream of life force which called to me,” I confessed, eyes upon the hourglass. “I am a recursive being, defined by myself; my sins are my own and my nature—which I have fought from my inception into this and every other timeline—is that of a god of destruction.”

The silence drifts between us. I consider him, Liu Kang, and what he has suffered. I wonder if perhaps I am not speaking to the lamb of his own slaughter, to which I have led him. Am I the author of some future madness? But it does not bear meditating upon—it cannot. It has been done and it was, I am certain now, the only way to overcome Kronika. All paths led to destruction except for this one and that, I think, was due in part to my nature, not his.

“So Sh—so he was your father, and Lord Fujin’s.” He seems disappointed, somehow, that this whispered legend or rumor has proven to be the truth. “I guess I knew that—or I thought I did… I’d heard it, but… Asking about family, among our friends?”

We both seem to recall, at once, the multitude of strange circumstances which had brought together the representatives of Earthrealm in the first place.

“Not a wise choice, were tact to be maintained,” I agree, “but the sire is no reflection upon the offspring—or it does not need to be. I knew that immediately when I looked upon my brother and saw someone I loved and someone I would always seek to protect.”

“You’re more human than you ever let on, Lord Raiden,” he observes. “Maybe we’ve softened you.”

“I have always been ‘soft’,” I assure him, “and it may have been my downfall, but for the memories of friends I keep stored up in the very core of my being. You strengthen me, even now… And so you must be, Keeper of Time, strengthened by love and compassion, tempered by reasonable logic and justice… and softened by empathy, but never destroyed by it.”

“So how, then, can I do this? How can I allow it?” He gestures to the glass, standing and straightening, wiping his cheeks and eyes with the other hand. The gesture is so reminiscent of his childhood, it brings a pang to my chest. In this moment, Liu Kang looks more boy than man, and like no god at all, despite his divine attributes. The shining markings which once adorned my flesh now wrap about his, with his own additions, variations to suit him. Never, in all the eons of my existence, have I felt more certain that I had made the correct choice.

“You choose the shift of the sands which, to you, seems most just.”

“The death of an innocent boy is not just, Raiden! How can you demand this of me?”

I shake my head. “I cannot,” I admit quietly. “It is your choice to make. I am not the Keeper of Time. I conferred my divinity upon you for a reason, Lord Liu Kang. This, as it turns out, was your ultimate purpose… All the Shao Kahns of every timeline—all the Raidens… could not stop you. Your inevitability and unpredictability are, at least in part, why Kronika did not see us coming. This, in the end, is why I chose you and why you alone are the appropriate choice to be time’s keeper. Her numerous, repetitious attempts only served to build the foundation of her defeat. She had intended to use that unpredictability to reverberate through time, shattering our alliance and, thence, every timeline, using our konflict to reset existence. She made a mistake.”

“So I must choose the lesser of two—no,” he corrects, “the least of many evils. Raiden, in one shift, I see Bi-Han himself leading the charge—I see the Shirai-Ryu fighting to the last man, but each time, Harumi and Satoshi die at his hands. Quan-Chi is always behind it, no matter who strikes the final blow and always, Hanzo’s family suffers and he…”

“He becomes a wraith.” I nod quietly, gesturing back to the hourglass. “But then what happens?”

“He… fights his way through Netherrealm and confronts Quan-Chi, every time.”

“He is also inevitable.”

Liu Kang nods, “yes, but, such suffering…”

“It builds him into the man we see today, fighting alongside Grandmaster Kuai Liang, for the protection of Earthrealm. Would the Shirai-Ryu and the Lin Kuei not still be at war, were it not for that avalanche of fate?” It is, admittedly, a question even I am not equipped to answer, but it stops him, makes him consider. He sighs and then shrugs.

“I… do not know.”

“So, rather than the least of many evils, Lord Liu Kang, you have been called upon to serve the purpose of balance—true balance—and justice… and to choose that which fulfills your duty.”

“You have always spoken of duty as if it is the only choice,” he observes, though the verbalization clearly pains him, “yet your duties, in service to the Elder Gods, have led you down many paths of destruction.”

I am silent a while, considering the truth of this. There is no simple answer, because he is correct. He has learned much over the years and now has the wisdom of many timelines from which to pull. Experience is the harshest teacher, but the best, by far—we do not soon forget those lessons taught us by pain and force.

“I served their purpose as a dutiful son and… I believe that purpose was, in many ways, to illustrate to me that fighting my nature could only lead to the inevitability of the Storm. I was wrong to follow and obey as I did. You will not be so unwise because you have many lifetimes to recall and to relive… infinite possibilities of wisdom and foolishness, infinite lives and deaths. You were… built to bear this burden.”

“Would you... take it from me?”

“Yes, Liu Kang, I would.” His countenance changes as I lay aside the deified title. It is as if I have regained my student, at least for a time. “My divinity prevents me taking up the crown with the same efficacy as a mortal, however—as I said, you are perfectly suited to its weight.” The pain in his eyes lances deep into me, but I hold his glowing gaze, as he always held mine. “You haven’t the arrogance of a titan or a god; your humility is yet another great strength.”

Liu Kang observes his hands, then me, then the hourglass. He takes in a breath which fills his lungs and then, closing his eyes, he releases it, slowly, through his nose. I watch his countenance shift once more, to something I have not yet seen. There is a certain serene nobility to it and not a note of resignation to be seen. He has begun to truly understand what his duty truly is, what a joy that burden will be to bear—and what a terrible tragedy.

“I understand,” he says finally, opening his eyes once more. Lifting off the foundational stones of all timelines, he moves to the hourglass and begins, once more, to manipulate the sands of time. There is security in his movements, a certain sureness that each decision is being made the right way—even if it is not the “right” decision. After all, at the beginning and the end of all things, one often finds one’s moral compass to be somewhat useless. There is no grander scheme than the one which Liu Kang now manipulates with novice hands and an open, empathetic heart and I could not be more proud of him.

#cw #cc #mortal kombat #liu kang #raiden #mk11

6 notes · View notes