In the very beginning, there was nothing - just an empty void. But from Chaos, came--

Just let me stop you right there. You've heard it time and time again, haven't you? The same mundane and, if I'm being completely honest, obnoxious sayings right: that I was the beginning of the night, the first end of light. It's all very old and, truth be told, some of it is overplayed. Yes, at one point, I was revered by my strength. In so many past lights and the lives it shone on, I was a figure of legend: Nyx, Primordial Goddess of Night; Nyx, mother of many facets of higher concepts.

Just don't. It's overdone. Just end all of this desire to hype me up. I am no longer interested and that isn't me.

But I will just say it so it is out there: I am Nyx, Goddess of the Night, Primordial Embodiment of whatever the flavor of the month deems me.

I have lived through just about everything you could imagine: the creation of the universe, the creation of man, the rise of man, and the steady decline of man. I have witnessed from a distance, from my sanctuary in Tartaros, that mankind truly was beyond saving. Nothing I or even those who like to claim themselves as rulers of the Greek Pantheon could do - not when the almighty Zeus bed anything with a pulse. No, truly I was beyond caring, so I did what I thought I must to preserve any remnants of my sanity.

So, it was lights out (as it were) and I faded away from any position of any form of power I might've had should I have stayed in my domain. Instead, I came into the mortal world, fresh with the intent to live amongst them. Maybe in a sense, as this new being. I have preserved some memories.

As Sebastian Valentine, I still know of a time when I was Nyx, when I was the Mother of Night and Empress of the Shadows, but as Sebastian Valentine, I am someone who isn't plagued with the eternity of existing. As Sebastian Valentine, I am a businessman, an artist, a visionary. Some may still see Nyx when they spot me exit my midnight blue Lexus, but the mortal world sees the enigmatic, charismatic, eccentric owner of Darkshade Cosmetics. And, the honest to gods truth of it all is that I wouldn't have it any other way.

In irish mythology, Lugh Lámhfhada of the Tuatha Dé Danann was born as the son of the Tuatha Cian and the Fomorian Ethniu. He served in Tara, the royal hall of king Nuada of the Tuatha, as the Chief Ollam and master of all skills. He lead the Tuatha in the war against the Fomorians and slew his grandfather, king Balor of the Fomorians. After this, he became king of the Tuatha until his death forty years later. However, even from Tír na nÓg he appeared many times in the mortal world. During one such appearance he would sire his son, the hero Cú Chulainn.

The celts as a people were incredibly varied and diverse, with many local gods. However, Lugh was a god popular enough amongst the celtic people to transcend these cultural and linguistical barriers. Lugh is how he was known to the Irish, whereas he was more commonly known as Lugus in Gaul or Lieu in Wales. Throughout the years, Lugh has been associated with many different domains. He is renowned as both a saviour and a trickster. He is primarily associated with oaths, and by extension justice and rulership. He is associated with skill and mastery in all disciplines.
He is portrayed as a youthful warrior, wielding the spear of Assal and a sling-stone and accompanied by his hound, Failinis. He has also been connected with light or the sun. In other folklore he is also associated with thunderstorms, which were described as battles between him and Balor, which lead to speculation of Lugh being a storm god.

Lugh can still remember how forcefully he was ripped from Tír na nÓg, the land of everlasting youth. And just so, all that remains of his time in the paradise of the afterlife are sweet memories. His promised land was a promise no more. He wandered the streets of Istanbul, confused and enraged and fuelled by a desire for justice. He could not even imagine the kind of heresy that would dare to tear him from his family and friends, who had not all been deified quite to a similar extent. But no amount of cursing and contempt would bring him back home.

Yet even a god, chained or no, is immune to the passage of time to their thoughts and convictions. Given to other choice, he learned to adapt to the new normal. And as the first decades passed, he began to find that, perhaps, not so much had changed after all. Of course, he was a god no longer. But he was still immortal and ever youthful. And although he was not on a verdant island paradise with friends and family, Earth had a few qualities that the paradise he knew lacked woefully: change and ambition. Although Tír na nÓg represented eternal merrymaking and beauty, it was always utterly stagnant, and there was truly nothing but leisure. And that is where Lugh saw his chance…

Because whether his hands were mortal or divine, he was still a master of all the arts. And every one of those skills he could practice once again. And in a dynamic world as the mortal realm these arts were never static. New instruments, tools and occupations were invented always, and Lugh would remain a master of all (except for the sorcerous arts, those were unfortunately well beyond him now). Throughout the millennia he would perform any occupation imaginable under many aliases: chef, musician, architect, royal advisor, writer, poet, craftsman, soldier, medic, programmer, judge, CEO, technician and many more arts he would happily practice. Because there was always another context, another scenario or application to experience, and always a way to improve. Sometimes he would even invent new tools or applications to progress a field beyond its current limits, and amass a great fortune while doing it.

And those experienced would not stop with skills. For as the time passed so did the world change. And with that came the marvel of living. The many types of leisurely activities and the great amount of people to meet. He could be whatever he wanted to be, do whatever he desired and find love however many times it occurred. Naturally, not did the world always change for the better. But nothing was stopping him from helping mortals again, even now as a mortal himself. He did not need to be a god to provide blessings. The only freedom he lacked was that of movement. To be restrained by the colossus as a prisoner was the focus of his enmity, and to be forced to move with it by some inane mortal’s whim.

Alas, such whims still continue to string him along. And in seattle he lives no differently. He drifts from job to job, staying as long as it interests him. In th era of the internet, he is for hire as a man who will do “whatever needs doing”. Lugh is always just a single call or e-mail away from whatever job you need him to do with great expertise. The price for his services varies every time, and is only rarely monetary. Most often he requires an oath or a favour in return, that may come into effect at a much later date. With Lugh, you may never know. But he always comes to collect with a smile when it finally suits him.

Xōchipilli, the Prince of Flowers, was Piltzintecuhtli's son and spent his time watching his worshipped bring offerings of corn and pulques. Particularly revered by the locals of Xochimilco, he spent time there while his siblings did their own thing. And he was interpreted to be a patron of homosexuals and male prostitutes by anthropologists. Xōchipilli was known for many things, such as the god of art, games, dance, summer, and souls. But, he was bored out of his mind, So when he and the other Gods were forced to live out their lives as mortals, Xōchipilli was excited.

Luka Vélez was known in Washington D.C. as a protector (of sorts) to the LGBTQ+ community, offering them services and support. He was able to do those things because of his nightclub, Dalia, and its profitability. For decades, he remained there until the Colossus was moved to Seattle almost ruining what he had built. Thank the gods for the internet and smartphones. He sold the Dalia to a wealthy couple and used that money to buy a different nightclub in the city's nightlife with a different name, Topan. Thankfully, the nightlife scene made it popular.

Hathor has always been there, emerging from the primordial waters at the beginning of time. She has helped mortals with love and fertility, leading them to the creation of life. She is the one that has protected mothers as they carry and breathes life into every child born so they can take their first breath. It is said that her protection can even reach beyond those of mothers and in the past she was called upon by soldiers for her strength and concentration during battle but she will not confirm or deny these facts. Her protection does however extend beyond the living as she welcomes souls into the land of the dead, helping and protecting them on their journey into the afterlife.

Due to her being feminine in nature, Hathor’s sphere of influence included music, dance, and sexuality. Those features of hers has also made her the consort/mother of several Egyptian Gods. Another very important point worth mentioning is that she was one of the numerous deities that was seen as the Eye of Ra, i.e. the feminine component of Ra. In that state, Hathor was the deity that kept Ra safe from his enemies. It also brought out the other side of her, one dark, vicious, and blood-thristy. She did not only punish and bring destruction to those that had threatened Ra but went on a rampage which needed to be stopped by her fellow Gods and Goddesses. There are two sides to every kind and she is very much the holder of this truth.

When Colossus happened, zapping her of her powers, it was no surprise that she was enraged at the very insult of it all. She had been there since the world first began and now she was reduced to that of almost a mere mortal! It made her blood boil and she wanted to take her frustration out on them, on Colossus, and just make a war path. Fortunately, she knew this would not be a possibility. She had witnessed every change, every moment, every growth, and every fall back of the humans....at least those within her realm. She knew them, knew their ways, and what she wished for could not be accomplished, especially if it was the same in lands beyond her previous reach. The real question was, what to do now? She couldn’t stay here. She needed answers, a way to stop all this.

It was that drive that had her wandering aimlessly from place to place. She tried to search, research, fight, and push back but all seemed fruitless. It had Hathor falling back into old habits such as partying and booze. She was on a downward spiral, her life just becoming a mess and a blur of days as she tried to figure out where to even start. She had no past, a horrible present, and a not so bright future. It all felt hopeless. Waking up in an alley with no memory as to how she had gotten there had been her wake up call. She was better than this. If she was forced to live a mortal life then by damn she wasn’t going to waste it laying in filth. She worked hard to build a convincing life for herself, never having been one to frolic with humans before this unless you count joining the occasional festival or being a mass of destruction in search for more blood to sate a never ending thirst which she did not.

Once everything looked in order and no one would question her, she started to settle down in a place near the Colossus, still determined to find a way out of its hold. She took up a job as a bartender at one of the clubs in Seattle, wanting to still be a part of the party, booze, and lust but maybe not go over the top. She DJs now and then to really get the place jumping, draw in more people. It had been a rush to find a new creative outlet and try something she had never done or heard before. It was a new and exciting type of sound that she wanted to be a part of for every moment. She won’t say things are perfect in the world she has created for herself but she is finding it at least a little more enjoyable of a cage.

Artemis, like the moon, wore many different faces as a goddess. She had a caring, nurturing side that was known to peek through for her brother and, some said, her lover Orion. Her vengeance was often overlooked by others, distracted by her soft and calming demeanor. Adonis underestimated her and he paid the price. Niobe taunted her, and her children died. At her peak, Artemis was a multifaceted deity, who's mood ebbed and flowed, like the tides. Her blessings were generous, and her curses were cruel.

Unlike her brother, Artemis embraced her new life at first. She'd always been known for the devotion of her followers, but in her new state, she found herself so much more able to help them. As a goddess, she'd been free from the fears of pain and injury. She developed an appreciation for suffering, for the strength that came after. For many centuries, she did her best to remain secluded, often in the outskirts of whatever city the Colossus was based in, spreading her teachings to the young women who cared to learn.

As the world grew more secular, Artemis' following began to wane. Being in harmony with nature simply became less important to the mortals than survival. She moved on, finding other ways to fit into the world while still protecting the young women in it. It was hard at first. The world had gotten crueler as the mortals erected new cities. These years reinforced a truth that Artemis had always known: power corrupts. Even among mortals, power corrupted. It was then that she decided, the gods were better in their new forms.

By the time the gods were forced to move to Seattle, the world had undergone many and more changes. There were girls, ready to hear her message once more. In DC, she'd already begun building a name for her new alias, Selena O'Ryan. She was a blogger who championed the powers of holistic medicine, and spiritual reconnection, and most importantly, the moon. She announced online that she was moving to Seattle to open a wellness retreat. She purchased a large plot of land, in a secluded area just outside Seattle, and it was there that she placed her newest "temple."

Moon River Retreat started as a month-long women's only retreat, staffed by women who'd become truly devoted to the teachings there. On the first anniversary of it's opening, Apollo affectionately congratulated her. "Why is it, everywhere we go, you always seem to form a cult?"

Soon, the land had a compound, for her followers to live and produce products that could be sold to keep Moon River flowing. Of course, Artemis took lessons from her fellow gods, and found other ways to make money. Her land provided plenty of room for other businesses, and some of her Maidens were better suited to discovering secrets than gardening. Life in Seattle has treated her well, better than anywhere else has in quite some time. She'd very much like to stay.

Dionysus was born in a way only Athena could relate to. After Hera had tricked Zeus into killing his mother the King of the gods had sewn the barely alive baby into his thigh in order to let it survive. After emerging from Zeus' leg Hera was still displeased that the baby had lived. She gave the baby to the Titans who preceded to tear him to pieces. The only reason he survived was from the Titan Rhea keeping his heart intact and with the help of Artemis that remade his body. Realizing that Hera likely would keep trying to kill the baby they hid him among a few different care givers. He was passed between Rhea, Pan and some forest nymphs, and even Hades and Persephone raised him for a time. Once he became an adult he set out to explore the world and grow his cult of followers.

Dionysus returned back to the greek world a few years later with a small army of crazed forest nymphs having changed greatly. The first place he visited to enforce his worship was a small kingdom who refused to recognize his godhood. On the way there he stopped at Thebes to rest and throw a festival. They refused to let him into the city, so in his anger, he turned the people of the city mad and made them join his army. Eventually, he and his army made it to the kingdom who had forsaken his worship. He proceeded to warp the kings sanity, eventually breaking his mind and then killing him. Dionysus spent the next few decades roaming earth not yet willing to take his place amongst the Olympians. While stranded on an island after turning slavers who had captured him into dolphins he met his future wife. He found Ariadne crying on the beach after Theseus had abandoned her on their way back to Athens. The young god immediately fell in love with her beauty and went down to speak to her. Eventually, he ascended to Olympus with Ariadne and fashioned her a crown made out of stars. Now married he made the decision to retire from human affairs except for a few rare occasions to visit his followers.

The loss of his powers barely registered when the obelisk was created, for he had a much greater priority. When the gods had been banished from Olympos Dionysus and Ariadne had been in the mortal realm enjoying a festival for the harvest. While Dionysus was a god and had no fear of death, even having brought souls back to life from the underworld before, his wife still had a mortal soul. He could no longer keep her ageless with him and now was powerless to help her. For the next fifty years, he had to watch his love slowly age while he stayed perpetually youthful. When she died he promised to go and get her once he had gotten his powers back. He turned her crown of stars into a ring that he wears on his finger and set out to break the obelisk.

Without his powers, Dionysus has had to bide his time and live a mortal life. Thankfully drink and parties never truly go out of fashion, so has struggled very little in fitting in. Being the only Olympian who was born from a mortal mother and had actually spent a lifetime on the surface he settled into his old life before ascending to Olympus. In the renaissance, he happened to luck into a profitable venture with a few mortals in the wine industry. Being the god of wine helped him make some of the best in the world, which he then sold to Italian bankers. When the obelisk was moved to the Smithsonian he sold a majority of his company, so he would still profit from it, but no longer run it. In America Dionysus has become very active in the film industry, seeing it as the natural progression of his realm of theater. Every few decades he even goes to a different film school in order to keep up with film making, as well as the excitement of college parties.