Pantheon: Divinity Denied (IC)

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Boss Frost, Oct 13, 2011.

  1. The port city of Polpota is famous for it's canals and high culture. Great buildings created of massive seashells tower over the city's tiled streets (gifts from the population's large wizard community). The city, however, has come across some tough times. An age of science looms over the city as religion falls into decline. Crime and poverty has reared their ugly heads into the amazing city, with the city's elected ruler unable to do anything beyond the squabbling of his council. The shape of the city was changing: for the worse...

    "Did you hear about the contagion in the dock areas? I heard even magic can't get rid of it."<o:p></o:p>
    "That's nothing. There's a tower far from here that was once rivaling Polpota for culture, and it's fallen into decline."<o:p></o:p>
    "How awful! What's going on in this world? Everything's going horrible... not to mention the wars that have broken out, and that wierd madness that's overtaken the animals in the for-"<o:p></o:p>
    "Shh! Not so loud!"

    The people of Polpota whispered in hushed tones to each other, as they have been for weeks - talking about gossip from this region or another. The crisp ocean air did nothing to relieve the tension that they felt as a people. Though street performers and good food helped to relieve their worried hearts for a time, all one needed to do was look towards the ocean and remember how many lives have been lost already to that horrible illness... or take a quick glance at an alley and wonder how many crimes had taken place within. What were once churches now sit with a sorrow that would normally take ages to create... populated now by vermin and squatters. People turned distrustful eyes towards each other - streets that were once filled with laughter now only hold the quiet mumbling of the damned. Even the bright, cool day somehow seemed lessened, as the shadows from the houses creep over the tiled streets, sending a chill into those who stand among them...

    The heavily robed figure of the Ferrywoman slowly moves her gondola through the canals, no customer under her care. She turned her head, silently looking to those on the street as she guided her boat up the canals. She hardly need to hear the worried voices of the people to see the forlorn looks on thier faces, and it threatened to break her heart. Directing her vessel to the side of the street, she waiting for anyone who wished to move quickly throughout the city.<o:p></o:p>

    A sigh escaped the hood of her robe, glancing up at the spiral sea-shell building that was the 'Joyous Dolphin'. Originally one of her best spots for customers as the late parties and inebriated patrons needed rides closer to their residences... now, the buidling stood quiet... the bartender and the workers all stood outside the building, trying to usher in buisiness. She would have offered an empathic glance were it not for her hood hiding her face... one of the tavern's performers offered her a sad wave. She returned it, in the mute fashion she always took.

    In an alley nearby, beings that were once the caretakers of the world appeared in mortal form... While others, mortals, wandered the streets. Theirs paths would soon converge... and only time will tell if they save the world, or it becomes another of the King of All Terror's conquests.

  2. Ruin lay, flat on his back, staring up at the roofs of the buildings on either side of the alley. His head throbbed, his body ached ... It was an alien and unpleasant feeling, being mortal. For a brief moment, he wondered why he was in human form then remembered this was the form he'd been in just before having his divinity stolen. It was probably only a matter of time before he was forced to shift back into his basic weapon form.

    He huffed, sending his bangs flying up, before sitting up with a soft grunt. No use moping over it. He ran his fingers through his hair, yawned and looked around. Yawned? Ah, that's right. He was in human form. He'd need sleep and food, more so now that he didn't have his divinity. He'd get it back. Somehow.
  3. "No! I don't want to! It smells like old cheese in there!"

    "Shut up and get back in! You haven't paid off your debt!"

    "Forget it! I'll rather get eaten by a god!"

    "I said-THWAP-getbackinthehat!"


    By the time anyone looked in her direction, all they could see was a very oddly dressed woman stomping on a dark red top hat. Though her choice of attire made her look more like a court jester than an infamous wizard, Siraza cared little about how she appeared. What was important for the moment was keeping what belonged in the hat, IN the hat.

    Satisfied with her re-stuffing, Sizara shoved her hat back on her head. Now that her first task of the day was settled, she had a very long list of 'necessities' to acquire. Coming in to the town like this was one of the things Siraza hated the most. Everywhere she turned was old men walking too slow, old ladies creaking out insults. Teenagers staring at boobs, smelly animals. Dumb villagers. Uppity villains. Righteous heroes... They were all quite irritating, and should she ever managed to find a spell large enough, she was seriously considering destroying most of the civilizations on the planet.

    For now, though, she just needed a few ingredients for potions.

    Siraza turned a corner and stomped down an alley... her pace came to a slow crawl. It wasn't unusual to see several people in an alley, but what she walked past was several -confused- people that just... Well. Something was odd about them.

    And she didn't care! "Oh, stop standing around looking dumbfounded. Move! Coming through! Stop blocking my short cut!" Siraza weaved her way past the people.

  4. The chill air ran through Erised's hair, which was wet from yet another dip into the water that she took, though it did not make her feel any better now. The fact that her skin prickled with the cold of the water itself was enough to infuriate the once divine being and she was more than distressed about the potential of drowning in the water she had once called her home and whose embrace had eased her every woe. More than anything, however, she was worried. As she sat with her feet dangled into the water, she observed the ruin of the town around her and the lack of the once life-giving tide.

    Trying to decide what to do, Erised took to her feet once more. The tidemaiden who had once been the protector of the town was no longer watching of this place, that much was clear. Unable to take to the water herself to search for the minor goddess Polpota, Erised was unsure of what to do or how to search for her. It was certain, however, that something had happened to her. She would not have let the town fall into disrepair were she still in fine condition.

    Now, she thought, what she really needed was some sort of help. She had never felt so deeply useless in her existence as she did now. She did not even want to consider what had befallen her seas since she had left with the knowledge that town's ruin was the result of the minor goddess's absence. Everything seemed to be going to Hades in a neat basket and Erised felt as though there was nothing she could do.

    Disliking the feeling of the ground beneath her feet, Erised slipped into the water in time to watch a ferrywoman move silently through the canals. Swimming easily through the water, she glanced around as though hoping for some answer to appear from nowhere. Her silken blue hair was likely visible above the water and she hoped that it caught no one's attention, since she was feeling deeply humiliated as of current.
  5. Noctus' emotion-addled face gazes upon passing mortals from the alley he appeared in. Wringing his hands in pity, the batlike man turned to look at his companions, then back out. It broke his heart to see the mortals in such... sorrow. Only the judgement of his peers prevented him from rushing out and trying to repair their broken souls with whatever magic he still had left... and, as the God of Night, it would likely have failed miserably. His ears drooped, and he bites his lip in a pathetic manner. Ever an emotional deity, his role as a patron of forbidden lovers and poets had honored him greatly. Even as a God of Night, he kept his beloved night sky as beautiful as possible... before, it was for his own sake. Once he began to gain worshippers, he had moved to more grand displays: shooting stars, constellations, even the lights that appeared closer or further from the world.

    It was the commotion caused by an extraordinarily loud mage that caught his attention. He barely had time to react as he noticed the woman walk towards him. Shifting from his current form to that of a tall, dark-haired elf, he swished his cloak as she entered the alley. Personality altered to the part, he rose an eyebrow. "Nice hat," he commented, stepping aside with a wry smirk. His cane tapped the cobblestones slightly, gesturing in a grand manner that she may pass.
  6. A compliment was enough to make the wizard cast a red painted smile as she tipped her hat and passed him by. "Of course it is." Siraza responded with a grin. There was that small temptation to linger a bit longer. Ask if her hat made her look a few years younger. But her list! Her list was most important.

    But it was always nice to have someone step aside with flair. A nice change of pace from the screaming of terror.

    "Get out of this alley, or else someone is bound to think you are up to no good. That's when the pitchforks come out, and I don't make it a habit to get in to the hero business." Her commented was lightly called over her shoulder, even as she was having a hand in dismissal while she walked past.
  7. "What a lovely suggestion. I was passing through the other way and happened to cross your path." With a twirl of his cane, he stepped after her. "Though I think you're far more interesting of a person than the tasks I was supposed to be taking," he lied, "...So I think having your presence nearby would simply brighten an existence that has been, very recently, sub-par." Shamelessly flattering the woman, the tall (and somewhat wicked-looking) man in black followed her. Really, the amount of magic that she was radiating (likely subconsciously) would make her a lovely ally... Though the prickling on the back of his neck felt similiar to how he felt around the old Predator goddess. He had offered a kindness to her, and she had taken it upon herself to see this as an invitation to create night predators.

    It was horrible.

    "Anyone with that much style is clearly a magic-user. I am a mere dabbler, but I find the company of mages perferrable to most," he lied once again, "Might I ask how you've kept your spirits so high in such a trying time?"


    The ferrywoman slowly paddled her way through the water: or it seemed like she did. From Erised's point of view, it was clear that the woman's paddle never once touched the water. The heavily cloaked woman 'sniffed' at the air for a bit, lowering herself to a sitting position and lifting her paddle from the water: allowing the boat to drift a bit. The mute woman turned her head towards the water, seeming to look at Erised. She nods at the ex-water goddess, before looking back into her boat. Taking a piece of parchment from an inner pocket, her concealed (gloved) hand begins to scratch something upon it. In a practice that might have been viewed as disrespectful once upon a time, she places the parchment into a bottle, sealing it and dropping it into the canal. With a nod, she rises, and begins to paddle towards the slums.
  8. “This is it.” He laughed.
    Flash Back (open)
    It was all gone. The horse, the wagon, the equipment, and some of his most valuable compounds: all gone. He had been travelling through the city without any inclination of stopping. But then his horse was tripped. An ambush had been set out for him: trip-wires hidden along his route. The horse fell to the ground, shortly after tripping the wagon. The wagon killed the horse, and the horse sent the wagon, along with all it's contents, hurdling into the canal. Delago barely escaped, his means of transportation nearly a means to his end as it splashed down head first into the water. There were few things he could save, and the things he couldn't save were the most important. The horse: his friend, and the wagon: his home.

    Still, he laughed and smiled despite his misfortune. It had been a tragic, terrifying evening and Delago looked a mess, but his spirits had not yet dwindled. As he climbed out of the canal, trying to catch his breath, the merchant was assaulted by the bandits that set the trap. Really, it was something he should have expected. However, Delago was in no condition to consider such things when he took the first punch. It was fortunate that he still had his blow pipe. Although it was difficult to clear the chamber of water during the fight, Delago managed to get darts into a few of the bandits. Slowly they started dropping like flies, twitching and wailing on the cobblestone as each gave into their delusions. Delago convinced them the only way to cure themselves was to fetch a few things from the wrecked wagon. Really, they were the few things he'd need to get his life back together. But by the time they came to that realization the full effect of the poison kicked in and they were paralysed underwater.

    Unfortunately they didn't get much before drowning. Some steel, some flint, and a few tools for compounding. The compounds themselves were useless now. Broken bottles meant that most had dissolved into the canal doing heavens knew what to the environment. Delago tried not to think of the damage it would cause. That miserable attack happened some time ago and he had been in the city for a few days? A week? Maybe a month. He had lost track of time. Day and night blurred together sometimes. In that miserable city, since that miserable day, he had made no progress. He'd barely even eaten. And still he laughed.

    His blow pipe doubled as a smoking pipe: convenience and concealment in one. Using flint and steel he made a spark, lighting a piece of tinder found on the roadside. Inserting the flame into the bowl, Delago lit the compound inside. Cherry flavoured smoke filled his lungs as he drew a breath. He closed his eyes, a smile creeping up his cheek. His throat clenched, trapping the smoke inside. Then, when he was ready, Delago blew a dark-red cloud into the air. The scent of cherry-filled pastries followed as it dissipated into the air. He opened his eyes, and then smiled as a rat scurried by.

    Still alive, the world was beautiful. Delago sat peacefully as he lay against the wall of a building. It looked like hell hit him, but he didn't seem to mind. He had a black eye and a scar just beneath from where a bandit hit him. The tissue had healed, somewhat, but the scar might never go away. His clothes were ripped and worn, stained with old blood. At some point he would have to replace them as his shirt was missing a sleeve and the tears in his pants were climbing further up his legs. But that could wait. He was in no hurry to go anywhere, he had no where to go. So he waited and watched the water.

    Delago was starting to feel the effects of the compound. Any glow, any light at all, seemed slightly brighter, slightly more beautiful. Shadows framed and contrasted light, adding to the city's allure (or lack there of). The canal itself, reflecting and bouncing the image of the sky, had taken most of his attention. He watched as a ferry-woman drifted by. Delago was sure it was the compound he was smoking, but it looked like she dropped something into the water. Curious, he moved closer.

    She had dropped something into the canal. It was a bottle with something inside. Delago was tempted to fish it out, but became distracted by something else near the other side. He couldn't quite make out what it was, but it was blue and beautiful. He was sure it was his imagination as it appeared to be moving. Yet still, Delago inched forward to get a better look. But he had forgotten something. He had already been standing on the ledge. Seconds later he dropped into the water. Miraculously, he was somehow able to keep his pipe dry by clinging to the canal's ledge with the same hand which held it. But he wouldn't be able to pull himself back up without letting it go.

  9. Siraza paused in her tracks. Not yet having left the cover of the alley and still within ear-shot of the other confused people lurking there. When she turned around, the folds of her equally bright colored skirt twisting at her knees, she looked surprised. Then annoyed. Mildly annoyed. Even tapping a booted foot on the ground as if she were about to begin some form of lecture to a bothersome child.

    "I wouldn't call wading through villages of agonizing humans, haggling with beasts about the prices of herbs, nor being followed in a shady back street by a stranger with an odd aura particularly high spirits. But, since you ask, I remain in a delightful mood by being left alone to do what I do best." Siraza pointed over her shoulder, indicating that what she 'did best' involved leaving.

    "So if you will excuse me." Turning on a heel, she resumed walking. This is what she got for taking short cuts. Short cuts never went the way she planned!
  10. Ruin watched the God of Night tag along after the first mortal tail he came across. Sure, he probably had something other than sex spurring him but Ruin didn't give a damn. The woman had a penchant for destruction, he'd give her that. But did she enjoy it or did she merely live with it? There was a big difference between the two. If it was the former and she hadn't destroyed this place (yet), she'd give his last wielder a run for her godhood. If she still had it, that is.

    The Sea Female had disappeared somewhere. Chances were, she'd gone into the water.

    Ruin stood in one fluid motion. He ran his fingers through his hair and took off in the opposite direction the God of Night and the mortal magic-user had gone. He sighed softly. His stomach was growling. He was going to get himself something to eat.

  11. Opening up the bottle that had floated down the canal and hit her in the head, Erised shot a grouchy look to the woman with the ferry for littering in the waters. Her frustration was abated when she read the letter and instead, she lifted her head to view look after the woman. Sliding the note back into the bottle, she set it on the edge of the canal and slipped back beneath the water.

    Swimming fluidly through the water, Erised happened across a man and a woman and smiled at their stances, him twirling his cane at her with a smile on his face. Before, when she was the mistress of the ocean, this sight would have been something that she would make beautiful for them. Perhaps she would have rippled the water, reflecting the moonlight just right... Her thoughts were distracting and she shook them away angrily. She had been stripped of these things. Now, perhaps the ferrywoman knew how to make things right.

    Surfacing just the top of her head once she had arrived at the temple, she gazed around warily. If it was some sort of trap, she was not interested in getting out of the water. It was a temple devoted to her and she had bestowed many favors upon this place but now it was falling into disrepair with the homes and buildings around it. This brought from her a frown just observing it and she sighed, resting her head on the edge of the canal.