Wolf Play : Until the End of Time

For thousands of years, a terrible war ravaged the land of Aeternum, reducing everything to waste. The war had gone on for so long, in fact, that many forgot the original purpose of such hatred between all of the many gods who walked and watched over the world. Every day turned into a battle for survival, where the strong suppressed and subjected the weak and the rest toiled and struggled helplessly as their land was reduced to ashen grey. Every new creation, sense of life, attempt at rejuvenation destroyed in the chaos of the war between the gods. It wasn't until the thousandth year that finally, finally, when nothing was left but 8 gods and a few remaining, suffering survivors, the remaining 8 decided to try and attempt to make amends and stop the needlessly stupid bloodshed. The original world they had all tried to coexist in was beyond saving, and with nothing left living but those who cried out for relief, they had all come to a consensus to scrap the miserable planet and try making a brand new world. Things shall turn out quite a bit differently this time though. With one gods proposal and agreement from the others, they have agreed to instead treat this new place as a team building exercise instead of desperate, isolated projects that would eventually lead to conflict again. All of the 8 would have to try and work together to create the new beings, the way the world worked, and how much interference they have in the order of this new world. However, with tensions and bitter feelings still harbored against one another, understandibly with the death of millions of your people by the hands of some of these very gods, things may not go as smoothly. Will they succeed in creating peace on their second chance, or will history repeat itself and all reduce itself back to ruin?

Until the End of Time | Thread

January 1, 2024 12:11 PM

Raven Wing

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- R U L E S -

- This is a SEMI-LITERATE ROLEPLAY [400+ words per post]

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- Balance out your character! While they are gods, Nobody should be picture perfect or have zero flaws. Nobody is perfect, but that's okay!

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- Keep things as realistic as you can! It isn't realistic to make your characters agree on everything or always find success wherever they go

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- LGBTQ+ is more than allowed!

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- No mary or gary sues, your character isn't invincible nor will they always win. Everyone has flaws

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- Keep things PG 13! Skip explicit or gorey scenes. No exceptions

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- Swearing is allowed but don't do it every single sentence

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- Drama within the roleplay only! Be respectful and kind to your fellow roleplayers. If you have a problem with someone then PM me so we can work it out

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- Be active! Don't just sign-up and then disappear, that's unfair to everyone else. Notify me if you want to drop the roleplay or won't be on for a while, Otherwise I will open your spot back up to others within a week of inactivity

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- If you have any questions about this roleplay then PM me, I'll respond to the best of my ability

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- Have fun!

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- Abide by all Wolfplay rules. No exceptions.

Edited at January 1, 2024 12:29 PM by Raven Wing

Until the End of Time | Thread

January 1, 2024 12:13 PM

Raven Wing

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While all gods are diverse in appearance, personality, and abilities, they do share some commonalities

- W E A K N E S S E S -

Attuned to the World - All gods emotions tend to run high when the world is suffering a great amount. In layman terms, dying. The oldest gods have chalked this up to the world's last ditch effort of saving itself: getting it's creators to act

- S T R E N G T H S -

- Gods can kill gods, gods can kill mortals, but it's almost impossible for a mortal to kill a god - Almost. While it was an undeniable fact within the old world that gods were very powerful and durable beings, that's not to say they are invincible. It's very hard to hurt them, sure, regardless of sex, height, weight, strength, if you're a bodybuilder, eat healthy, or even have the conviction, but there's been one or two exceptions to this belief

- Less susceptible to disease - It's very hard for a god to get sick, no matter the mutation or how rampant said sickness has been spreading to the people. Even the common cold is rare for the likes of these Deities

- P O W E R S -

Faith boosts a god's capabilities - The more people they have who follow them for any reason, good or bad, malicious or pure, the more powerful a god's abilities will be. That's not to say, however, that because a god doesn't have any followers their powers will be weak. Faith can only help a god's powers, not hurt them. How they enhance their specific powers, however, varies depending on the god

- M O R T A L . T E L L S -

- Slight Intense auras / Unease - Something will always feel just a little off about them while in mortal form. However, placing that feeling is very very difficult so this isn't much of a hindrance

- Gods can stare straight into the sun without any problems (very random, but true)

Until the End of Time | Thread

January 1, 2024 12:28 PM

Raven Wing

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- T H E . G O D S -

- | Milost (Aurelius Glass) | -

God of The Soul, Desperation, and Mercy

Played by Raven Wing

- | Duvéssa (Maeve Desrosiers) | -

Goddess of Deception, Persuasion, Dark Energy and Insanity

Played by Biologist at Work

- | Ektlo De'Van Mona (Gheke De'van) | -

God of Magic, Retribution, Fear, and Illusions

Played by Nez.ity

- | Riotl (Morana Tyide) | -

Goddess of Love, Beauty, and Fertility

Played by queen.

- | Akiba (Ayam Badram) | -

God of Innocence, Childhood, Games, and Creativity

Played by Argos

- | Vikona (Valence Winchester) | -

Goddess of Carnage, Conquest, Battle, and Extermination

Played by Cereal

- | Caos (Azriel Regalità) |

God of Chaos, Mistrust, and Anarchy

Played by Ghost of Satan past

- | Vaeos (Zeno Lior) | -

God of Dawn, Hope, and Healing

Played by Lapin

Until the End of Time | Thread

January 1, 2024 12:47 PM

Raven Wing

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- T H E . S T A R T -

The idea of creating a new world has been proposed already, however the eight gods remaining are yet to determine whether they'll go with the plan or not. The world has not been scrapped yet, however all the humans are dead, leaving the barren and dying landscape behind. Any animals left are malnourished and dying, and the ground is cracked, dry, and dead. Trees and greenery and decaying, however the sky is a golden and orange color, like mocking the bland misfortune. The gods can be scattered, collecting their thoughts or recovering from all that's happened as they walk around deciding whether to accept the deal, or within the group, silently thinking or talking with the others. The war came to an end only 3 hours ago. A light breeze blows, and the weather is starting to cool, signifying the beginning of what would have been autumn

Edited at January 1, 2024 02:02 PM by Raven Wing

Until the End of Time | Thread

January 1, 2024 01:48 PM

Raven Wing

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Until the End of Time | Thread

January 1, 2024 04:19 PM

Nez.ity

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Ektlo De'Van Mona (Gheke De'van) || God of M/F/I/R || Mentions: Vikona(Direct), Akiba(Indire) OPEN

The monstrous goat man sat in his empty garden. A place where his children would live safely, noticing that the day was long and it never got dark. He frowned, wondering if his children always needed to keep smiling. He was feeling more alone than ever before. He wished he could change himself for the sake of his children, but he didn't know how. He had always been distant and reserved, never knowing how to express his emotions appropriately.

" Papa.... "

Upon hearing Clara call to him, the God stood up, his hooves stomping as he opened a circular void into his chateau," Papa? "Clara's voice echoed through the empty halls as she walked with one of the goat nannies--Steve. Now Steve was a particular goat, the only one who fainted whenever he was frightened. No one knows where most of them came from; some say that the head goat, Knohgyn, is a female goat pretending to be a male. A large goat with a mini human hat, a token for the brave adventures he's embarked on with Elk.

So as Steve guided the minor child around the empty halls, Elk stepped from the void, and right in front of him stood his gorgeous daughter, having her mother's confused gaze." Papa! Up...up..." Her arms raised, and Elk rose her from the ground," Clara...you know Steve can't be out roaming the halls..," He laughed as the goat made a grunting sound," Now now Steve, you know we care about you...so much that your fainting is starting to worry the other Gods," Muttering the last part, Elk followed Steve to where Ana; a Goddess that resembled Elk more then he compared himself. She was everything he could have been, and honor was her everything, and the way she trained with a sword as though she was born with one; sighing as he watched his eldest daughter handle the training dummies, Elk narrowed his eyes away. Of course, he was happy to see her training, but Elk noticed she never paced herself. Wondering when she'd slow down and allow him to protect her, Elk hadn't realized that Clara found herself braiding his hair," Ana! Papa is here!" Clara announced," Shhh, Clara..." Elk swatted her hands from his hair and placed her on Steve's back.

" Father." With a curt greeting nod, Ana lowered her sword and smiled," Are you coming to congratulate me on my Engagement?" Upon saying those words, some say Elk was....a bit overdramatic when it came to his children, so Ana's expectations of her father being... plausible flew out the door when he stared at her blankly," Engagement? To whom, my sweet child, all the mortals are dead....as they should be...did you find yourself a handsome stud God...or Goddess," He raised his hands," I support whatever you're into," He noted, and as Ana explained she was engaged to a handsome-er stud named----

" CONRI!!??"

Elk nearly fainted upon hearing the brute's name; how could that monstrously tall no good for his daughter? He probably doesn't even know who his father is, the son of a bitch who trapped his innocent daughter within his claws! Elk's eyes burned with rage, his hooves stomped louder, and his tail lashed, knocking over a training dummy," Father, please calm down; you might level mountains...not that there's anyone who could get hurt." Ana sighed. She missed the humans, seeing that she would spend most of her days dancing with them, watching them bathe in honor over something.

" How could you fall for that...man! He's....tall.."

" Father, do you only hate him because he's tall?" Ana raised a brow and stabbed her sword into the ground, pointing the finger at the man who scoffed and glanced away," He's....just...weird...just like his mother!" He accused.

" Here we go..."

" Listen to me, missy, his mother is a crazy, unreasonable woman...or whatever she is, probably some sea creature disguised as a woman..." He crossed his muscles. Shooing Steve away, who still had Clara on his back, once out of sight, Elk sighed, looking back at Ana, who was frowning, hating the thought of his daughter being melancholy--Elk swallowed his pride and uttered," Vikona is a bitch."

" Father! I am marrying Conri! Unlike you, you will have to live with the fact that I managed to find happiness." As those words fell from her lips, Ana quickly regretted them; Elk paused for a second, deeply breathing," I... want to protect you." He muttered, his voice cracking.

It was no secret. Elk was a walking wife/husband killer. None of his lovers survived long enough to see their children hit the age of 12, and as Ana looked more like him--he couldn't help noticing her mother.

" Stop looking at me like that..." She growled, turning away.

" Like what?" Elk responded, stepping closer to her, his tail lowered and dragging.

" Like I remind you of my mother! I'm nothing like her...I'm not....weak," Forcing out her words, Ana gripped the handle of her sword and lifted it," Vikona is strong...Conri is strong...I will never succumb to such weakness my mother had." Hearing his daughter speak about her mother in a way that made her seem weak, Elk gripped his necklace and grabbed a book before him. Opening it, he took a photo, walking in front of Ana. She didn't stare at him; instead, she stared at her reflection in her sword," Lisana wasn't weak. She adored you, she loved you...so much she fought the monsters who tried to steal you away...and as she took her last breathe she made sure no one laid a finger on you.", He handed her a photo of Lisana holding her close, her smile was big and bright. Ana's eyes darted toward the photo; slowly, she took the picture," She...fought...for me?" Elk wished he could take back all those losses, from the first to the last. He failed them all, and they all fought...but in the end, their destiny wasn't to fall for a selfish God--but to die saving his children. As his expression was stoic, he nodded," To call her weak is to say her saving you was pointless...and she should have died standing there."

" What about Clara's mother? What happened to her? Clara is five years old, Father!" With the outburst, Elk smiled and touched his eldest daughter's head," You have your mother's spirit, but remember you are a demigod by my blood." He reminded the girl. The same girl that was hiding under a kitchen table shivering, the same girl who told her Papa that the monster took her, took Lisana.

Unlike the others, Lisana was Elk's last straw. He fought for years to bring back someone already rooted in the ground, and he spent many months in the human world tracking down every God that dared to show their face. He questioned them, attacked, threatened, begged, cried, and even was willing to give up on his shrine to bring just one of his lovers back. And as he pleaded on his goat-like hind legs, they told him the same thing:

" That's what it means to be a God."

Sadness? Depression? These were human feelings, and Gods don't feel lonely--they have everything.

When he lived in a small town, Elk lived with his two sons and first lover. Some would tell the story a bit differently than Elk. He said it was a love story, something to look forward to, but it should have been described as a nightmare. One faithful day, Elk finished his God duties and was happy to return to the human world. Young Elk, who had disappeared in the God world, was finally satisfied. He had reason to like the mortals. But that day, the sky was opaque, and the air was thick with the stench of death. It starkly contrasted the once beautiful and vibrant world that Elk and his wife had created together.

As he walked, Elk remembered the good times he had shared with his wife. They had been together since the beginning of time, and their love grew more robust each year. They had created a world of life, beauty, and wonder, but now it lay in ruins.

Finally, Elk came back home. His wife lay motionless on the ground, her once-beautiful form now twisted and broken. Elk's heart shattered into a million pieces as he fell to his knees next to her. Her hair was ripped out, and the gown he bought her burnt off her body. Tears streamed down his face as he gazed upon her, taking in every detail. Her skin was pale, her eyes closed, and her hair tangled and matted. He could see the wounds that had taken her life, and he realized that he had failed her. He had been unable to protect the one person he loved more than anything. Elk took his wife's hand in his own, and he felt a spark of magic pass between them. It was a small comfort but enough to give him hope. He closed his eyes and whispered words of love and sorrow, promising to avenge her death and restore their world to its former glory. Elk's eyes soon saw his two sons standing before him; their eyes red from crying, but his firstborn--Ezio.

The twelve-year-old had stopped crying. For how long did they have to see their mother like this, ripped and torn apart? Ezio was the only one who understood what must be done that day.

" Papa...are you different from most papas?" Ezio asked him one day. And as Elk stood before the town that scorned him, that took away his chance at pure and untouched happiness, he answered," Do you wish Papa to be different?" With a simple nod from Ezio's tiny head and a sobbing cry from Cassio, Elk burdened the town--shutting it off from the world so he could punish them. He spent years returning to the same city, watching the mortals pray to him or any God to stop these curses.

He started small first, and then he took their crops away. They starved, and on the brink of death, he blessed them with lively animals fresh meat for all their lovely children. Then he took their children. He took the elders and condemned them to die painfully.

June 14, 1767. Elk's most outstanding achievement. Elk's most significant loss. He made them all suffer as much as he did; he took their hope, he took their lives, and as he tried to laugh at their sufferings, he couldn't. Nothing could make him smile again, and they took a wife---they took a mother! They knew nothing of pain yet!

June 14, 1767. A town that no longer existed. A city that belonged to Elk. A town that knew all types of pain, loss, and punishments. They prayed to different Gods to help them, but as some know, Elk threatened to come after their prayers. Their worshippers would also see the town's pain if anyone tried to support what people now call the " Shadow of 1767".

He spent half of Cassio and Ezio's childhood there. He was punishing them. Having Akib watch them was probably Elk's most significant fatherly moment with them. Sure, he created a garden for them to live in, but imagine being trapped by a vengeful God who was too busy killing and smiting a whole town. It got lonely.

So, as Ana gazed at her mother, Elk stared off. He promised to protect all his seedlings. Remembering the mention of Clara's mother, Elk only remembered her face, the way she danced, and the way she teased him. Her short black hair and red-stained lips were how she would joke about being the Goddess of Power. Maybe she was. He recalled her being the type to walk into a room and demand the respect of everyone, and she never held back when it came to putting people in their place, whether they deserved it or not.

" Father....I love Conri...and I love his mother. I just want a family that doesn't have to kill to be happy..." Ana knew what her father was thinking, so she was glad when Ezio walked toward them with a letter," Father, it seems like you're being beacons like a leash dog." Ah. Ezio. The tall man with more scars than his father handed him a letter, and as Elk opened it, he eyed them both," Whatever happens...I love you guys." He reminded them.

Ezio scoffed at his affectionate gesture in repulsion," You murder the world and claim to be saving it, and here you are uttering the words I love you like a God in your position cares...." Sneering at his father was becoming a norm; after Cassio's death, Ezio was never the same. He lost a mother and a brother, and now he has nothing but a mixed family with issues; turning to Ana, who stared at the oldest of them all," Congrats on finding happiness; I suggest you and Conir run off together and never look back. You never know how far our Godly parents will go to protect us....", And with that, Ezio stalked off.

Elk laughed painfully," So happy he's her-"

" I don't want you at my wedding! "Ana shouted.

Elk stared at her in disbelief. Maybe he misheard," I'm sorry, what?"

" If you go through with that plan! That terrible plan! I won't be able to live with myself! Mortals are harmless...they've done nothing---"

" They've done everything to us! They took my first love! They took everything I ever asked for, and they burned it to the ground! How dare you, Fabiana, side with those monsters!" He shouted at the demigod, and his tail slammed into the ground.

" The only monster I see is you! You are a grotesque! "She yelled back, clinching the photo and swinging her sword toward him, yet her moves were sloppy and frantic. " You sit here....while the mortals are gone...there is nothing left, and yet you still sob like a scared piece of shit, Father! When will you move on, huh? When will it be enough...was that town not enough? You might have promised us to take revenge, but you are making us suffer alongside the enemies you've made! "She stepped forward, swinging her sword at the God." You have distasted your honor with revenge! You have made mistakes that cost us, not you!"

Elk stepped from his daughter's sword and moved around a column. He noticed her quick swings and moved out of the way; his daughter was judging him for his heartache. This pain doesn't just fade away, and Elk knew that all too well. He dodged her swings and created a cloud mist to blind her; he knew Ana's rage was more consequential than his," I have done everything for my family! I lost too much to let that world live as it was; if we recreate it...you and Conir could live down there. You could give me grandchildren, and you wouldn't have to worry about anything."

Ana growled, trying to find her way through his clouds," It was genocidal! "As the clouds faded, she stared at her father," You think Vikona is any different? Or Akib? Maybe not Akib, but Vikona is more unethical than I am. I'm doing this for family." Why couldn't she understand?

Fabiana stood before her father, Elk, her eyes filled with tears as she held the photo of her mother in her hand. She couldn't believe he had given her this, thinking it would make her love him. She had never forgiven him for what he had done.

"I can't believe you would do something like this," she said, her voice shaking with bitterness and sadness. "You gave me a photo of my mother, thinking it would make me love you? That's not how it works, papa. You can't just replace her with a picture--."

Elk looked at his daughter with a pained expression. He had made a mistake, and he knew it. He had been trying to connect with Fabiana to show her he cared. But he had gone about it the wrong way.

"I'm sorry, Fabiana," he said, his voice soft. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just thought...I don't know what I thought. I just wanted you to know that I loved your mother and you too."

Fabiana shook her head and wiped away her tears. "It's not about you, Dad. It's about your...children. You can't just force me to love you. I need time; I need space. I need to process everything that's happened."

Elk nodded, his eyes downcast. He knew he had messed up and didn't know how to fix it. He had always struggled with connecting with his children by expressing his emotions in a way they could understand. Maybe they were resentful? Clara had what they needed---a present father. Ezio, Cassio, Fabiana, Margherita...they grew up fighting, wailing, and hoping Elk would appear and take them back to their mothers. But that never happened. Clara had his support; she had her nanny goats.

" Those mortals you care about so much took your brothers' and sisters' mothers away from me. I have done nothing but fight...I'm tired." And with those final words, Elk created a cloud. Ana got ready for an attack, but the cloud formed a face. Confused by the deformation of its nature, Ana stepped closer and poked the cloud.

" Happy to be here, happy to be here," It repeated.

" Father...what did you do..," Ana stepped back. Her father stared at the cloud," Your purpose is to be positive every time I'm pessimistic." Finally having a purpose, the cloud floated over Elk's head and created a rainbow," He's pleased! He's always so happy; he loves you, Fabiana." The cloud spoke strangely, a way Fabiana couldn't---or won't understand.

Fabiana nodded,"....make sure Clara doesn't know about your burdens." She stormed away, dragging her sword out and leaving her father to think about his actions further. Elk had always been a powerful and fearsome God, known for his strength and dominance. But as he watched his children grow and face the world's challenges, he realized that he needed to learn how to heal. He had seen too many of his loved ones fall to illness and injury, and he didn't want that to happen to his children.

He turned on his hooves and walked his lonely halls, seeing how each vein or weed contained a mermoy from his seedlings. His youngest daughter, Clara, was hounding Steve through the bushes and trees, giggling and shouting in delight.

Elk approached her with a warm smile, feeling a sense of pride and happiness at the sight of his child playing and having fun. "What are you doing, my little one?" he asked, leaning down to take her hand.

"I'm playing with Steve!" Clara said, her eyes shining with joy. "He's so funny, Papa. He keeps running away from me!"

Elk chuckled, feeling a sense of peace and contentment wash over him. All his worries and fears were forgotten momentarily, replaced by the simple joy of watching his child play.

As he stood there, watching Clara chase Steve through the garden, Elk realized that he had found something more important than healing. He had found love and happiness, which truly mattered in life.

As he continued watching how Clara had trapped Steve in a bubble of veins, he knew he would always have his children and their love to guide him along the way.

Edited at January 1, 2024 04:31 PM by Elk

Until the End of Time | Thread

January 1, 2024 11:22 PM

Cereal

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Vikona [Valence] | Goddess of C/C/B/E || Mentions: Akiba [ind.] and WIP

────── ·𖥸· ──────

The room was too dark. So damn cold. So unforgiving. The one proud slayer of Gods now had her head down with eyes downcast to the dark tiled floor. A singular light shined over her head, yet it didn’t lessen her growing internal agony. This room wasn’t one of comfort nor peace - it was an interrogation. The light was looking down at her with judgment - with disdain — the voices of her past whispered into her ears. She was so used to hearing demeaning words, yet it still hurts. So much. She felt her fingers through her messy silver hair, her nails digging so viciously into her scalp; however, in her mind of limbo to register the pain.

“Monster!”

“But…I’m just like you.”

“Abomination!”

“I’m no such thing!”

“Cursed beast!”

“ENOUGH!!!”

That’s when it all happened. When Vikona first raised her blade against mankind. The blood was on her hands. The tip of her fingers dripped with sin. It was soaking her clothes. It was all so red. She felt herself changing, and it wasn’t for the better. Vikona knew she was far too gone to stop the life-altering progress happening inside and outside her body. She didn’t want to become something new - something monstrous. She wanted to be normal. She wanted to be just like them. Not just for her sanity, as it would also prove the human’s words truthful - that she was a monster. An abomination. A cursed beast.

“I’m sorry.”

Saying sorry can’t bring the dead back.

“Please. Forgive me.”

They won’t be able to forgive her - not after what she did.

“I didn’t mean to!”

She acted on impulse, bloodlust, and anger. Vikona behaved instinctively - like a beast.

She was starting to hyperventilate, cold sweat dribbling down her forehead, and her body was so tense that it was painful. Still, she pushed through. Vikona will not dare to show an extensive amount of distress. Afraid that once they see a monster so vulnerable, they will take advantage of that. No. She couldn’t allow that to happen. She just can’t. She’s a mighty Goddess - slayer of her kind and the mortals behind. She cannot be vulnerable. Vikona will not give them the satisfaction of seeing her crumble. To witness her back into a corner over silly thoughts.

Yes. Silly thoughts.

All of this was laughable, but not for her.

Viewing her in such a fragile state was enjoyable.

It was such a wondrous sight for those she killed.

VIkona could hear them mocking her from their graves.

She felt a cool breeze blow against her hair like something was trying to get her attention. Still, she didn’t have the guts to look up - she knew it was them paying her daily visits. To make her remember the heinous actions she had done in her past. Vikona’s eyes were spazzing out, her pupils dilating out of pure panic. When she blinked and opened her eyes again, she saw a pair of legs standing in that familiar crimson liquid. Their clothes and body were beyond gruesome - like they’d been mauled by a pack of wolves. The bites, the scratches, and the missing patches of both skin and fabric tell a story of how this person died.

No. A human didn’t do this to them.

Most certainly not.

Vikona was never human. She wasn’t one of them, but she kept denying it. She had always been different, and she knew that yet she kept pushing it to the back of her mind. Her ignoring the facts led to the death of many, especially the one she held dear to her heart. She just…wanted to fit in with the others.

She always saw the village children playing together in the field of golden grass. While they lingered under the blessings of the light, she stayed hiding in the shadows the trees provided her with.

She remembers her past with her always hiding behind trees while she peeks around to watch the kids her age laugh and play. Her eyes always held envy and anger, while her heart drowned in sorrow and loneliness. Vikona’s eyes had always frightened others, and she hated that feature of herself deeply. Strangely, whereas she hated it, one grew fascinated by it. The children avoided her out of fear because their parents made ridiculous rumors she would eat them if they were too close to her.

It was a boy her age, his hair as gold as wheat, his eyes of bright blue radiated the same warmth as the Sun. That smile of his melted away the internal pain she was facing. His hand brought unusual heat that she wasn’t used to as she constantly lingered in the freezing embrace of darkness. That’s when she first smiled - when she expressed anything that wasn’t negative.

If only she gets to experience that all over again. To when she met the light that frightened away the darkness.

It was the first time she had ever found a true friend.

That boy was the young God of the Sun, Joy, and Music. His smile changed her life forever. They played together when they were children and hung out when they were teens. The young God was never scared of her, as he eagerly hugged her, sang her songs that warmed her icy heart, and played silly games together. However, when they reached adulthood and ascended as Deities, things changed. She grew to love him more than just a friend, yet she was cowardly to admit such feelings to him. A decision she soon regretted as she watched him fall in love with another.

Vikona watched from the shadows once more like a coward - seeing the man she grew to love smile, sing, and laugh with another. She tried to move on by looking for others - she even had kids with them. Nonetheless, the emptiness that returned stayed firm within her soul. With each failed relationship, she started to give up on love entirely.

Until seven years ago, the God she loved so dearly approached her for the first time in forever. In her mind, it was nostalgic. It reminded her of when they met each other. That encounter ended when he admitted his love for it, which led to the creation of Betram. The birth of their son, whom she thought was a product of their affection, became a mistake for the Sun God’s end, as his wife became enraged with his adultery. The wife didn’t target the woman he cheated on her with. Oh, no. She went to target her son, an innocent bystander in the conflict. That Goddess had cursed her son so he couldn’t see the Sun his father ruled proudly over - taking away his vision so he couldn’t gaze upon the face of his parents. What the Goddess did to her boy enraged her - bringing back a part of her she hated so much and kept locked away for so many years.

Out of rage, she killed her lover’s wife. Nevertheless, the story didn’t end there, as she made the biggest mistake in her entire existence. Her hands didn’t just target the wife, but the man she loved more than anything.

Finally, after repressing her emotions, a couple of tears leaked from her eye, dripping down into the pull of blood on the floor. The maimed legs were still in front of her - letting her know that it never left. Her body quivered as she felt the dam breaking free. Her throat started to hurt when she inhaled so sharply out of pure anguish and her breathing out of order. The choking sobs hurt, but her past behaviors suffered the worst. For once, the mighty beast had fallen. Vikona was sitting in the chair of guilt. The cold stone makes sure she doesn’t forget. She was embraced by the shadows as the light over her head started to die out.

“Mommy?”

A familiar voice entered her ears, and Vikona ceased her quiet cries immediately, yet the tears still came. The light over her head intensified, shining away the darkness that nearly swallowed her whole. The Goddess blinked, closing her eyes to regather herself and build the cracked walls back up before opening them again. The legs standing in the pool of blood were gone, and her eye on the wooden flooring adorned with the hide of the bear her eldest child hunted. The area of suffocating darkness became the inside of a cozy cottage she had built for her offspring to live in. The fireplace was active as the flames roared to life, yet she still felt frigid. Vikona steadily moved to settle herself more confidently in the chair made of wood and animal hide, her attention now on the living person in front of her. Vikona didn’t speak, still partially trapped in her internal dilemma, which prodded the person to call out.

“Mommy?”

Her eye turned to a set of golden locks, and the sight alone squeezed her heart. Vikona shook her head, propping her elbow on the armrest while resting her cheek on a closed fist. “What is it, Bertram?” Vikona’s voice was cold and reserved, but the sense of power held within was weak. Feeble. Upon hearing her speak, the blind boy reached a hand outwards and moved it around to attempt to pinpoint his mother’s exact location. His feet shuffle along the floor to ensure he doesn’t trip on his feet or bump into anything. Vikona merely watched, keeping quiet as she let her youngest do his thing. When she stared at her son’s pure white eyes, she felt her body tense up before turning her head to look elsewhere.

Her attention snapped back to Bertram when he felt his hand pat her knee, the Goddess’s eyes looking down at his hand as he touched her. She didn’t say anything as her body felt the same warmth all those years ago. She felt comforted that her son could maneuver around the place despite his disability. “There, there, Mommy.” His voice says as he cautiously moves to sit on her lap, and his weight doesn’t bother Vikona. “It’s okay to cry, Mommy. Uncle Akiba always said there’s nothing wrong with crying when you’re in pain or upset, as it makes you feel better afterward.” Betram tilted his head in Vikona’s direction, giving her a warm, cheerful smile that reminded Vikona of the love that she lost. “I’m fine. I wasn’t crying. I was only sneezing,” She says sternly - attempting to sound fearless and steely in front of her son.

Betram sensed the dishonesty in her statement, and he frowned a little. “Mommy, it’s not good to lie.” He scolded, then pouted in mock disappointment. Vikona huffed, closing her eyes after being caught lying. By her son, no less. Her eyes opened when she felt a soft hand touch her damp cheeks, her eye staring at her youngest. Her son gently strokes her cheeks, wiping the tears with his fingers. “Mommy,” His tone was concerned, and Vikona could feel the boy’s worry, “what were you crying about?” Betram asked, leaning forward so his face buried into her neck. The Goddess could feel her son’s warm breath against her skin. It brought her comfort, letting her know she wasn’t alone anymore. Vikona cautiously wrapped her muscular arms around her son, embracing the boy and playing with his golden blonde hair. “It’s nothing. Only adult problems you shouldn’t stress.” She murmured, pressing her lips faintly against his forehead before sighing heavily. She wants to keep his mind stress-free and not burden Betram with her problems. She wants him to have a happy childhood, a life without stress and conflict. That’s what he deserved after being dragged into an issue that never involved him in the first place.

She…wanted to give him a childhood that she never had.

The both of them were quiet, enjoying each other’s company. It was simply perfect. There’s no killing and isolation - just having a blissful mother-and-son moment. Vikona felt herself growing weak, but the kind she wasn’t ashamed of. She felt happy that she was vulnerable without worrying that Betram would judge her. Being a mother was a blessing that she was grateful to receive after living such a dreaded childhood. Vikona nuzzled her son, gently rocking him as she hummed a melody his father had sung to her long ago. Her acting affectionate and gentle was extraordinary, as many were so used to seeing her cold and unemotional side. Although, a part of her was worried that once Betram discovered the truth of her sinful actions, he wouldn’t want to associate with her anymore. She has many fears, but that one is her biggest one. She cannot lose the only thing that keeps her sane - not one of her children. If anything were to happen to them, she wouldn’t be able to handle it. She won’t be able to stay strong if she loses another.

As for Betram, the boy snuggles into the Goddess, unknowing of his mother’s dark past, as his mind is on the present. He enjoys his mother’s melodies - it makes him feel connected to his mother, as he couldn’t see what she looked like. His fingers could feel her rigged scars, the messy silver hair that tickled her face, and the tough leather of her armor. His lack of vision doesn’t hinder what he feels toward his mother. He loved how warm she was, her voice, her presence. Just…everything about her was perfect for him.

WIP

Edited at January 2, 2024 07:21 PM by Cereal

Until the End of Time | Thread

January 2, 2024 12:38 AM

Argos

Lightbringer

Posts: 1509
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Akiba (Ayama Badram) | god of Innocence, Childhood/Youth, Games, Creativity | M: Vaeos (ind), open

Bwak.

Boc. Boc.

Bwak.

“Not now, Arabella…” Akib muttered, his face buried into his pillow with his blanket over his head. “You have food.”

“Boc?”

“Over there by on my desk, beside my journal,” He moaned, “on your favorite dish. You can’t miss it.”

“Bwak, bwak, bwakkkkk”

“You know where your water is.”

Unsatisfied, the white bantam silkie fluttered herself onto his bed. Her sharp little talons pricked through his thin bedsheets as she slowly strutted towards his head.

“Bwak, boc, boc”

“Uhhhhhhh g’off,” he weakly kicked his feet, but was careful not to hurt her or throw her off the bed.

Like any good fowl would do, she ignored him, climbing her way to his face. Cocking her head, she pecked at his pillow. When he didn’t respond she jabbed harder, shaking it for extra measure after stepping onto his neck for better grip. Offended by his disregard, she raised her neck haughtily and erupted a scream that rivaled a siren.

“BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKKK”

Akib jumped up so that his bed bounced and he ripped the little hen off his neck. “Leave me alone, Arabella! Let me be!” His hands trembled as he gripped her. He could feel her wild breathing through her warm, tender feathers. Her pom-pom-like bangs were ruffled and she stared sadly at him with her black eyes, which looked shiny as if she had been crying.

“You’re so pitiful,” Akib whispered, and he brought her close to his chest and buried his face into her fluff. “I’m so sorry. Oh heavens I’m so sorry. So sorry…” his muffled tears drifted into sobs. His shoulders shuddered as he muted himself in Arabella’s silky feathers.

Why couldn’t I have saved them? Why are they all dead? A picture of a child so bony that she looked like a walking skeleton flashed in his mind. She had been the last person he had saved. She’s dead, an inner voice reminded him. She’s dead! Dead, dead, dead! Gone because you were too weak to do anything about this! Too stupid! Too pathetic!

“Shut up” Akib muttered out loud to the voice. Arabella boc-ed in concern.

Telling yourself that it wasn’t your fault is lying, the voice continued, you weren’t strong enough to rescue them. You failed.

“SHUT UP!” Akib screamed towards the ceiling. His sudden shouting spooked Arabella and she flapped out of his arms. “AAHHHHHHHHHH!” He cried, beating the side of his bed with his fists and feet. Then he reached up to tear at his hair but he couldn’t because his hood was up. He let out one last cry but it was weak and more like a whine. He collapsed into a blubbering ball on the edge of his bed and allowed himself to roll off onto the floor.

There he stayed, begging for sleep. For the comfort of dreams to wash him away from this reality and into something better.

Oh, but he couldn’t.

Instead, his mind wandered to the things he most wanted to forget. His thoughts seemed stuck like a broken record and replayed the biggest moment of his failure, each time the commentator’s remarks grew uglier and uglier.

Here he was, about to activate his power, Seeker, which enabled him to locate innocents in danger by sound. His bow was with him because he used archery to meditate and focus on one singular cry for help. He flipped the switch and his ears were pierced with a cascade of noise. It was like listening in a middle of an orchestra constructed of only fire alarms. Before he could put an arrow to the string, blood dripped out of his ears and his arm shook so badly that he couldn’t keep his arrow rattled on its rest. Voices filled his mind, whispers, screams, prayers, howls of animals, and his head felt like it was about to burst with all the noise.

He had to turn it off.

He couldn’t even hear his own heart asking about the children. He hadn’t realized it but he had fallen on his knees and had covered his ears until after he had shut off Seeker. He locked himself in his house for days afterward, crying off and on.

Just like the pathetic god you are, the voice hissed at him now, as he lay on his room’s cold floor with his hen cowering under his desk. And you haven’t got the guts to even try it again. Not even after your ears stopped bleeding. A good god, a brave god, a worthy god would’ve tried again, but no! You stayed locked away, scared of your own power, refusing to help like the cowardly mutt you are! You are the worst of the gods!

“No! No! No!” Akib banged on the floor with each scream. “Stop! Get out of my head! Go away!” He squeezed his eyes and fresh tears rolled down his cheeks.

Look at you, you blubbering whelp. You deserve this.

Maybe I do deserve this.

Akib opened his eyes and the world was blurry. His back popped as he uncurled himself from his fetal position and stood up. He tried to blink quickly to wash the water from his vision as he glanced around his dark bedroom.

“Arabella?” His voice croaked even in a whisper. “Where are you?”

“Boc.”

There you are, he pulled her out from underneath his desk and set her on top where a bowl of corn was. After looking at him thoughtfully, she devoured it.

“Who is your favorite musician?” He asked, setting up one of his favorite chicken jokes.

“Boc.” She replied, finishing it.

He weakly smiled and glanced at the clock. I’ve been in my room for four hours… They’ve all been dead for four hours by now…. Zero life.

“Bwak, boc, boc,” Arabella looked at him through her feathery pom-pom-bangs with her head curiously cocked.

“What? All the people are deaa—hey… how could I have forgotten!” Akib’s eyes lit up and he scrambled to find his red drawstring bag where he kept his weapons. “You’re a genius, Arabella! I can’t believe that I didn’t think about them! Here I was moping around in my room when there is something to do! I’ve got to talk to Vaeos!”

He stuffed her in his pocket while sliding on his shoes. He passed by his chicken coop and waved farewell to his other hens, who chased after him until he showed them that he had nothing for them. Now, he thought, where could that god be?

Edited at January 2, 2024 12:51 AM by Argos

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