Goldeagle1221

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

Monkgey

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

FP: 0 MP: 04

“AH!” Hermes yelped as she landed at an almost blinding speed. To her surprised, her sandals managed to slow her down at a rate that should’ve broken her neck, but in this case, didn’t, not even a little.

A content smile broke across her face. After endless stretches of Ashalla’s blue ocean, she had finally found land in the west, pretty land too. There was grass, that was green strangely enough. A mesmerizingly thick blanket of fog, making Hermes feel completely isolated and alone, and --

”Zzt!”

Hermes rolled her eyes, maybe she wasn’t completely alone. Letting out a small sigh, Hermes began her trek inwards, Poppler swirling around her and playing in the humid mist. Closing her eyes, the woman began to whistle as she strolled, her arms swinging happily. The acoustics were remarkable, her whistle seemingly stretching ad infinitum in all directions, nothing but her, Poppler and the strange green grass for miles.

THUNK!

A plume of Hermes’ alabaster hair erupted as she suddenly smacked right into a wall. Rubbing her nose, the woman peeled her eyes open, suddenly face to face with the outside of a manor - and it was a large manor. Outside, the walls were all adorned with metal and ceramic ornaments, some being strange lanterns hanging off hooks and others being empty ceramic pots on windowsills, awaiting for a kind soul to plant a seed in them and help them fulfill their purpose. It was a beautiful manor, it sure was.

And yet, it was abandoned in this strange misty island, with seemingly no one to look after it. A cursory exploration of the Manor yielded several useless details -- such as a broken window with a dressed up mop on the ground just outside it, and the front doors being slightly ajar.

Hermes poked the door and it creaked as it opened a little more. She pursed her whistling lips and poked it again, the door opening even more. Quickly she slinked right through the opening, Poppler trailing behind her with tittering pops here and there.

Inside the Manor, there were stacks of dirty porcelain plates everywhere, some with food scraps still on them. Had a feast been celebrated here recently, and if so, by whom? The island was deserted. A slight movement in the corner of the room caught Hermes’ sight and she spun to meet it. It was a plate, floating mid-air, levitating on its way to join a nearby stack of plates. When it had joined its brethren, another plate of those left on every surface of the Manor began floating its way to the stack. And another. And another.

Until one plate stopped and froze. Agonizingly slow moments passed, and then the plate began slowly floating toward the source of the Hermes’ endless whistling -- or perhaps was it approaching Poppler’s crackling -- up until it bumped against the woman and reeled back a few feet. Bewildered Hermes reached aimlessly forward with her hands, trying to find the perpetrator, her little cloudling friend whizzing around in confusion.

At that point, the plate floated back to the floor, and remained still. In the distance, or perhaps all around her, a melancholic tune began playing, one that made the mist seem heavy, one that made the air difficult to breathe… One that made the grass look gray.

”H-Hello! I’m, uh, Li’Ka...” The soft voice came from behind Hermes, from the entrance to the Manor. It quickly trailed off into a murmur. It was a woman dressed in a simple blue dress, ragged at the heels. Her skin was deathly pale with the exceptions of the intense blush on her cheeks, and she wore a slightly defiant expression on her face. She seemed to be trying too hard to be regal. In her arms she carried a small Box, from which the distant tune came.

Hermes seemed to shrink, her lips turning into a big smile but her eyes slightly worried, “My name is Hermes, and this is Poppler.”

”Pop pop!”

“Is this your home?” Hermes questioned, her voice crossed between a little shy and enthusiastic to meet another person. Her eyes flickered to the box of sounds curiously. The cloudling spun around Li’Kalla as if matching Hermes curiosity.

”Hermes,” Li’Kalla looked up for a second, then looked back at Hermes, ”Y-You could say it is my home, but… In truth I haven’t lived here for a long time…” Li’Kalla said with her eyes following Poppler closely. ”Tell me, y-you’re not a God, right?”

“I’m a Dreamer” Hermes announced proudly. She pointed at the black swirl on her forehead, “made by God!”

Li’Kalla looked at Hermes, and laughed, ”Pffhahaha!” Her face looked much prettier with a smile on it -- Hermes began laughing along with her, albeit confused -- and after laughing Li’Kalla blew on Poppler, the little cloudling spiraling in the wind. ”What is he? He seems to be made of clouds. Did you know I created clouds? He’s very cute.”

“I know now,” Hermes took a step closer, the cloudling zipping right into her nest of hair, “do you like making clouds?” Her eyes bounced again to the curious cube.

”I… Don’t know?” Li’Kalla shrugged, the movement causing the box to shift a little in her arms. She gasped and fixed her grip on it, ”Uh, it’s just my duty, you know.”

”... Are you hungry? There might still be some leftovers from when Chopstick came over to cook...”

Hermes nodded, she remembered K’nell planting the idea of food in her head though she never needed it, it was definitely an experience worth experiencing, “I want to eat a lot.”

“Can we eat?” She pushed, any facade of being shy now long gone, “and you can tell me about making clouds and cooking with Chopstick, and about your sound cube, and your home, and your dress, and why you have the same skin as me.”

She punctuated her last list item by holding out her colorless arms, “I like it.”

Li’Kalla smiled demurely and set down the Box of Orchestration on a nearby chair, then she went up to Hermes and -- after almost grabbing her hand and then regretting her choice at the last moment -- led her to another room, the dining room. It resembled more of a Hall, with a table so large that fifty people could easily sit and eat by its side. This part of the Manor was clean, and Li’Kalla excitedly drew a chair for Hermes.

”Sit, please! I will bring the food in just a second, Hermes! I will answer your questions over some food.” And with that, Li’Kalla left the Dreamer alone in a fancy room, with silver goblets and cutlery and gold-embroidered cloths covering the chairs.

Hermes quickly -- as quick as her sandals would allow her -- zipped through the room, stopping at precise moments to study various objects and creating so much wind that the cloths began to wave and Poppler was forced to hide deeper inside her jungle of hair. Her intelligent dark eyes nearly bulged as she soaked in all the new stimulus.

“I like it,” She concluded as she attempted to juggle two of the goblets, resulting in a loud clattering as they crashed to the floor before she went to go grab something else.

“I like it a lot,” She announced loudly, standing on top of the table, “it’s all very pretty.”

”It is! Isn’t it?”

Li’Kalla entered the dining room with a plate of leftovers on each hand. There were lots of meat, both aquatic and terrestrial and perhaps aerial on one of the plates drizzled with different sauces, and the other plate held a mighty salad including several vegetables cooked to varying degrees of perfection.

”Come on, sit!” She said as she set down the two plates on the table and sat down, patting the seat next to her which ended up not being the one she had drawn for Hermes before.

The Dreamer leaped off of the table, and somehow through a strange work of acrobatics she managed to land on her bum, square in the seat. Her eyes scanned the smorgasbord before her. Poppler suddenly emerged from Herme’s now heavily knotted hair and made a beeline for some of the more sugary of sauces, rolling around in it happily. Taking a cue from the cloudling, Hermes grabbed a handful of salad and mashed it into her mouth.

Li’Kalla giggled and rested her elbows on the arm of her chair and in turn her head on her hands. For a few moments she watched happily as Hermes ate, and then her expression became a little more serious. [color=steelblue]”Your question about my skin, and yours -- I don’t really know. I’m sorry.”[color] She seemed truly sad that she couldn’t give Hermes an answer.

“That’s okay,” Hermes patted Li’Kalla’s hand, leaving a tacky residue which quickly vanished due to Li’Kalla’s eternally soaking wet skin, “it’s good skin anyways.”

”Pop pop pop…” The cloudling was completely covered in sugar meat glaze, prompting a hearty laugh from Hermes and a big eerily-cheshire smile.

”The other question, about the ‘Sound Cube’? That is, uhm… A Gift, I suppose,” She sighed, ”From Vakk. I don’t like listening to it… I can’t let a gift be wasted, though, it wouldn’t be righ-”

“I like it!” Hermes cut the god off, “it makes a sound without a mouth-”

”Zzt!”

“Or… a cloud?” Hermes shrugged.

Li’Kalla smiled and tilted her head. Slowly, she pointed a finger at Hermes and poked her cheek. Hermes accepted the poke with a wide grin, her warm flesh scrunching from the sensation of a wet finger, and as if mirroring Li’Kalla she reached out with her own finger and poked Li’Kalla’s cheek.

”Ah-” Li’Kalla gasped and recoiled a little, before breathing deeply and settling down again, ”I’m sorry… It’s been a long time since I’ve felt… Anyone, in this kind of way.” She said lamely and went on to caress Hermes’ cheek gently, before turning and passing her a cloth to dry herself.
“It’s okay, it was an experience,” Hermes took the cloth and wiped her face, “Experiencing is living and living is my purpose.”

”Huh, not all experiences are good to have, Hermes. I’m sure you’ll understand that one day.”

“Maybe,” Hermes paused, “But if I stop, good or bad, I am no longer living, and that’s not very good in itself.”

Li’Kalla directed her gaze to an unseen horizon, a place far away, and she frowned. ”Sometimes they make you feel like you’d rather never have been born in the first place...” After a moment, she suddenly turned to look at Hermes again, ”Can you promise me something?”

“I’ve never done that before, so I’m going to go with a hard yes,” Hermes smiled, “I will promise you.”

”Be happy. You’re too pure, just like I used to be… So, be happy! If you need someone to talk to, I’m here, alright?”

Hermes thought for a moment, “Are you sad?”

Li'Kalla looked away, “... Having you here makes me happier. That goes for you too, Poppler.”

”Pop!”

Hermes nodded, “Why don’t you come along with me on my journey? It’s fun and I like it a lot, you might too.”

Li’Kalla perked up like a child, leaning close to Hermes with wide sparkly eyes, ”Really?! Can I, can I? Oh yes! We’re going to the mountains, and then, then we’ll go to Skaia and Peppercorn Ranch and maybe go for Ice Cream in that one stall in Arms’ Haven and-” Li’Kalla was just short of pressing her nose against Hermes’ when she froze and grinned warmly, ”Yay! My first trip with a friend, I’ve waited so long for this! Oh gosh, w-we’ll meet new friends, and- and see new things and be away from our duties and families!”

Most of Li’Kalla’s words were strange to Hermes, but each one made her smile grow, slightly leaning back as the Goddess got closer, “I like it! I want to try all those things!”

She reached out and poked Li’Kalla’s cheek in the same spot as before, “good to have you on board, friend.”
Li’Kalla grabbed Hermes’ hand with hers the moment she poked her and giggled, ”It’s been so long since I’ve had a friend, too!” But suddenly, the happy Goddess’ enthusiasm started dissipating and she let go of Hermes’ hand. ”Although, I still have some things to do around here… Do you think, um, we could go another time…? Yeah… Duties, you know...” Li’Kalla said with a sigh and a roll of her eyes, which upon seeing the empty plates of food, prompted her to stand up.

”I suppose I’ll clean these up. You can take whatever you want from the Manor as a souvenir, if you will. I have no use for any of these things, anyway.” And with that, Li’Kalla disappeared behind a door.

Hermes’ smile disappeared into a small frown as her new friend left. She just found out, “I don't like goodbyes.”

She let out a disappointed sigh and slouched as she walked out of the room. Slowly her posture regained it's cheery stature as she realized it wasn't a final goodbye and in time she will see her friend again. She stopped.

In front of her the sound box was playing its tune. Hermes scanned the room cheekily, souvenir! With one quick motion, and not a protest from Poppler --who had absorbed the sugar and nestled back into her hair-- Hermes swiped the box and tucked it under her arm.

“I'll come back!” She shouted as she walked happily out the door, a whistle breaking her lips.

Once outside Hermes turned to soak in the view of the manor one final time. A gentle smile broke across her face, she had found a friend. With a happy nod she suddenly burst into the sky, cleaving through the fog at an incredible speed.

---

An hour had passed and Hermes now darted through the sky, westward once more and with the endless Ashalla blue stretching beneath her in all directions. Slightly bored, she lifted the sound box to her face and began to fiddle with it.

“Uh!” She grunted as the wind knocked it out of her grasp, only for her to catch it- “ah!”

It juggled out of her hand and she swiped to grab it again. All her fingers caught was air as the box fell below her. Before she could even dash to catch up with it, it was out of sight.

“Oops,” her voice shrunk, and slowly turned back into a whistle, albeit a suspicious one as she continued her journey.

Directors Cut

”Ah-” Li’Kalla gasped and recoiled a little, before breathing deeply and settling down again, ”I’m sorry… It’s been a long time since I’ve felt… Anyone.” She said lamely and went on to caress Hermes’ cheek gently, before turning and passing her a cloth to dry herself.

Wow big baller over here assuming things.

summary

No might used.

Hermes discovers Li'Kalla's island and then her Manor So'e

She gets caught by Li'Kalla who invites her to a dinner party.

The two become friends, and promise to adventure together eventually. As a token of friendship, Li'Kalla allows Hermes to take anything she wants from So'e.

Hermes swipes the music box, only yo clumsily lose it over the ocean.

K'nell and his creations are shaping up to be something wildly different than expected, and breaking all expectation, Li'Kalla begins to self heal.

The Dreamer stared at K'nell. The two face to face in the Palace of Dreams. Hermes had recounted her journey so far, soliciting a pause from K'nell. The silence lasted for a long time, forcing Hermes to jitter in place until finally K'nells voice echoed thoughtfully.

“Perhaps there is more.”

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

FP: 0 MP: 04

K’nell sat on his throne, his knuckles bent under his chin and his face wearing a concerned look -- plus a smile. His throne pulsed beneath him, as his eyes scanned an unseeable scene. Dreams past and present ran through his mind, but one kept snagging his attention. The ballroom, the dancing, the genuine smiles. His brow furrowed, when he had saw her mind, her seemingly irreparable scars, the dream simply stitched itself together. Nothing in him could have used her memories for anything but a happy dream, his own spirit wouldn’t have allowed it, but why.

Was it pity? Doubtful. The Dream God slouched in his throne, pity was not his purpose, nor was it his purpose to entertain or aid, and yet he did and he did not know why. Perplexing. Could it have been compassion? As impossible as pity, the God shook his head. It was for him, to distract himself, to make himself feel good -- right? There could be no other explanation, he had a single purpose, no more - no less. It was not his duty to comfort, not his duty to sympathize.

“And yet I saw no other option but to do so,” K’nell spoke aloud, the Dreamweavers bouncing around him as if listening. He could not deny the subtle warmth he felt, nor could he deny how disturbed he was now. He sat for a while longer, figuring that perhaps it was an unvirtuous deed as referenced in his encounter with Aelius, “A deed done for selfish pleasure and credit, but not necessarily for altruism.”

He pointed at a particularly citrus smelling Weaver, “that’s what it was. Of course. I have work to do, a lot of work. The distraction was quaint and necessary but I have work to do.”

He stood up, “Nothing more - nothing less.” His voice echoed off the walls of the palace ballroom.

-- -- -- --

“I’ll call you… Poppler,” The Dreamer announced, a tiny cloudling dancing on her palm. She nodded to herself as the little cloud began to static and pop almost with glee, “Poppler it is.”

The small creature whizzed out of her hand and began to spin around her. The Dreamer smiled at the sight, her legs swishing through the overgrown sweet grass of the flatlands. The Afternoon Heliopolis was warm, but just dim enough to paint the scene in an orange glow, and with the red hue of the grass, giving everything a fiery look. In the distance a few stampeding tree herds pummeled across the landscape, while large beings that are best described as a cross between a rhino and a tiger chased after them, huge hippo like maws chomping at their heels.

The Dreamer had spent the better half of the day exploring Tendlepog, her winged sandals whisking her to each biome with little effort. She had found the flatlands particularly enjoyable, enough to stop and walk through.

A gentle sigh broke through her lips and she looked skyward, she wasn’t tired yet. She looked down at the nest of sweet grass around her and with a gentle flutter she felt her sandals activate, the tiny wings flapping.

“Well, Poppler,” She started, “it’s been fun, but-”

Suddenly the little cloudling popped and crackled around her before whizzing straight into her hair -- “What! Hey!”

The Dreamer shook her head but the cloudling let out a defiant “zzt!”

“Fine,” The Dreamer cracked a toothy grin, “you can come.”

Rolling her eyes the mortal suddenly dashed into the sky, her sandals turning her into not much but a blur as she quickly found the clouds above. With little direction she faced west and at blinding speeds, K’nells winged sandals propelled her forward through the sky, a tittering cloudling hiding in her hair.

“So since you got a name, maybe I should get one too?” The Dreamer asked Poppler, who did not reply, but kept on tittering and popping.

“What do you think it should be?” She pressed on, the earth below her turning into Ashalla’s blue ocean.

“Tim?”

”zzt."

“Gorius?”

”pop pop!?”

“Hermes?”

”pop pop pop!

“Hermes it is,” The Dreamer -- Hermes -- smiled wide, her grin uncannily similar to one of the gods’ if not much warmer.

summary

K'nell mulls over what feelings are and what he needs to get done.

The Dreamer finds a friend and a new name for herself, Hermes.

Nothing was spent.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

FP: 0 MP: 05

K’nell sat on the edge of the platform that lead to Limbo. A great forest teemed around him, alive with life spilling in from the mountains, and even some from the flatlands. He could feel it in his body, great waves of energy rippling from all the corners of Galbar; his siblings were active.

Every creation, every large fit of destruction, it all rippled throughout Galbar, and K’nell knew that out there, beyond the haven of Tendlepog, was a world to explore. That was not his purpose, he knew, but it would serve as a great distraction. He knew in his soul that he could easily make a copy of himself to fulfill both his desire and his purpose, but he also knew that such a distraction would only remain interesting for so long.

No, he needed a new pair of eyes, a pair of eyes unknown to him, a pair that could visit him every sleep and bring new experiences to his palace. He needed new life. The world was wanting, the only sleeping beings that of animals and wayward gods, it needed a fresh view.

His eyes spiraled about the landscape around him, who would fulfill this new purpose, this experiment of life? What shall they look like, and what shall they be like? The images of each god flashed before K’nell, his thoughts visualizing in front of his own eyes. Crabs, birds, suits of armor, and even simple liquids, all the forms appeared and disappeared, but ultimately there was one form that was the most common among the gods. Such a form would allow the experiment to socialize, and experience such facets of life with ease. The forms of Melantha, Asceal, Phystene and others blended, their physical traits common, perhaps related. K’nell blunk and a human like female form emerged in his thoughts, one similar to the other common forms.

“So she shall be,” K’nell concluded, a female human form, whose mind shall be clear, a fresh slate for new experiences. He banished the visual back into his mind and stood up. The dirt before him shivered and slowly a cloud of minerals erupted from the earth, quickly forming bone, and then flesh. Expertly K’nell sculpted his new life, her form at the peak of physical capacity for her body plan.

There she stood, marble white and unalive. Lifeless black eyes stared forward, a small spiral marked on the center of her forehead, and long colorless hair flowing from her scalp. Suddenly a thought crossed K’nell's mind and he snapped his fingers, instantly swathes of plant fibers formed into cloth, covering his creation, his trust of the other Gods was as wanting as Galbar.

Content, K’nell held out a hand and a pile of ash fell direct into his waiting palm. Slowly K’nell blew the ash at his creation, the magical substance dissipating as it entered the lifeless body, creating a soul. K’nell blew again, but this time a tiny speck of sparkling soul left his own mouth, augmenting the new soul, and keeping it from aging.

The woman’s pupils suddenly dilated and then narrowed, her black iris’ shrinking around them. She stared wide eyed as she took her first overeager breath. Her heart pounded as blood rushed to every portion of her body, and her chest heaved as her lungs fluttered wildly. Seconds flew by before her body stabilized, her breathing being reduced to a quiet whisper. Her eyes relaxed and then at that time she finally spoke.

“What is my purpose?”

The god's smile grew ever so slightly, his voice echoing around the pair, “to live.”

“How?” She furrowed her brow.

“By experiencing. Go, go and experience life, experience Galbar.”

The woman nodded, her face stretched with worry, her mind knowing only K’nell, “will I be alone?”

“No,” K’nells voice swirled, it’s inflection grainy, “every so often you will grow tired, though you may not need to eat, nor drink, you shall sleep. When you do, we will be united and you will bring all your new experiences home with you. You shall wake up, to live once again, and in due time we will meet again once more.”

The woman smiled in relief, “then I will go live, now.”

“Galbar is large,” K’nell advised, “you will need these.”

With a flick of his wrist a pair of winged sandals appeared in his hands, “with these you will not be hindered by speed nor ocean nor land.”

The woman took the sandals gingerly from her God. She plopped onto the forest floor and began to fasten them to her feet, “where should I go first?”

K’nell was silent for a while, “wherever you desire.”

She looked up at him, “well, what should I do when I get there?”

“Anything you like,” K’nell turned to climb the platform of Limbo.

“Oh,” The woman nodded, attempting to understand.

K’nell spun to meet the woman once more, “you are alive, you are the first mortal dreamer, you are the Dreamer. Go. Experience, and your purpose shall be fulfilled.”

The Dreamer nodded enthusiastically, “then I will!”

“And I will see you come your first sleep,” K’nell’s smile strained and with a suddenly flash, he was gone. The Dreamer jumped backwards completely surprised, tripping and falling. Scrambling, she crawled up to the platform of Limbo and peaked over the edge, K’nell was gone. She turned and sat, her back leaning against the platform. The sounds of the forest closed in on her, and between the popping of cloudlings and the howls of marsupials, she took deep breaths. Her eyes scanned the trees in wonder, the world was hers to explore.

Summary

The Winged Sandals, 1MP
No might spent on The Dreamer (thanks Mutton!)

0 FP 4 MP remaining.

A new challenger approaches!

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

FP: 6 MP: 05

Bilbies hopped in through the sweet grass as K’nell made his way out. Having spent the rest of his time in the flatlands creating large herbivores to chase down and snatch the running trees, and tiny marsupials to amuse him, he had grown bored once more. And so, he began his walk back to Limbo.

As he walked, the evening heliopolis glistened off the shifting mountains, each landmark coming closer and closer as the flatlands faded away behind him, until eventually he found himself walking up the slope of one of his migrant mountains. All around him life flourished, be it insect or fungi, the God was walking in a brilliant forest of mushrooms.

Content with the scene he quickly added quolls and numbats to the forest, he even altered one species of the grand mushroom trees so that it would carry a strange fruit that chimed in the wind. His eversmile grew as he ran his fingers down the fungal stocks of one of the mushroom trees, how interesting .

A new inspiration hit the God and with it in mind he continued his journey, stopping here and there to admire the many different moths and butterflies. Now and again he would point his finger, and a new species would appear. First a flowering of ripe yellow buds, brimming with nectar but before the insects could have their fill, suddenly there appeared the honey possum. K’nell was amused.

ZAP! The tiniest creation of K’nell’s so far suddenly poofed into existence as he passed a low crowned mushroom and scurrying from the puff of creation was a monito del monte, eyes big and black just like K’nells.

The amused God continued his almost dancing trek through the mushroom mountains, enjoying himself so much that by time he found his way to the valley of Limbo, he found himself nearly depleted, a trail of new species behind him, both plant and animal, and a few of both! In particular he was proud of a strange squirrel type best that seemed to change color with its surroundings, and of course the bizarre flying sphagnum moss. He shook his head, his interesting journey left him nearly depleted, but not quite.

As he stood before Limbo, the mountains circling the empty valley, the God reached inside himself for the last remaining vestiges of the day. All at once there was a great flash and a mighty rumble. In the span of seconds, trees of cyprus and oak split the ground and rapidly flourished into ancient growth. The woods gnarled and twisted around Limbo, and before long a mighty forests engulfed the valley, leaving a new canvas for the ever creating God.

summary

2 fp spent on small ecosystems, aka augmenting the mushroom forests
4 fp spent on the Limbo Valley Forest

K’nell enjoys himself for once! He also seems to have a thing for Metatherians



Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

FP: 10 MP: 05

The midday heat of Heliopolis basted over K’nell as the god sat alone. Under his pants a flat stone warmed, and before him he watched his latest creations in motion. In the blue distance mountains shifted, but before that stretched a seemingly endless plain, it’s dirt cloaked in a brilliant red grass that felt akin to velvet and smelled of sugar. The ruby landscape was crowded with herds of trees, their massive roots creating large ditches and potholes as they stampeded across the plains. Little driplets of groundwater slowly filled the ditches, creating puddles which swarms of tiny cotton ball shaped pollinators sipped. The little things were made out of clouds, much to K’nells amusement, and now and again when two collided they’d sprinkle a little rain, sometimes accompanied by tiny popping sounds and even static.

K’nell watched amused as the tiny things crowded over bunches of flowers that grew on a completely see-through vine, fit for tripping the unaware, somehow the pollen of the flowers sticking to the cloundlings. Small beasts and beings, flora and fauna completed the circle of ecology before K’nell, and for the moment, he was at a certain peace.

A small sigh echoed around the unmoving smile and the god let himself lay back flat against the heated stone. His eyes looked straight ahead, getting lost in the great blue above. Popping cloudlings mused his ears, and the sweet aroma of the fields tantalized his nose, in all, he was stimulated. If it were any other being witnessing this paradise, comfort may have soon turned into a peaceful sleep filled with fuzzy thoughts and silly dreams, but such things never came to K’nell, for he was such things.

His brow furrowed, he was such things.

summary

K’nell enjoys his creation, for a time.

4 FP spent on a large ecosystem, the fields of dreams now take over the flatlands of Tendlepog.

Remaining: 6 fp 5 mp

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

Hey Kho! I'm here by request and by courtesy. So a few people, myself included have brought up our confusion about Seedharem. She has thrown us for a loop and we aren't too sure what she is anymore. Idk, I guess me myself personally I was just underwhelmed from what I expected and what I got. I figured she was going to be some grand martial lady but instead I got a lot of hair play. I get it if you're working up to something but I figured it was only fair you heard my current feedback as you aren't in the discord chat.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

“A king without a throne.”

The voice echoed among the vast emptiness of void. It belonged to a tall figure who was notably pale, and dressed in very alien like- but fine gentlemanly clothes. On his face he wore a contemplative grin, like that of a Cheshire cat, its corners stretching up alongside his dark brooding eyes. As he thought the void shimmered and shook, his creation was being pulled from the hallows of his own mind and into reality. As he did, he heard the signature pop and cackles of creation in the far away infinite distance, as other Gods formed their own realms in this new primordial world.

A step. The Gentleman took a step forward, and as his did his foot landed on a flat stone formulated from nothing, another step and another stone. Rapidly other stones began to appear from nowhere, blinking in the darkness of the void. By time stones stopped appearing, the Gentleman was walking up a neatly laid pathway. An ethereal lawn sprouted on either side as the Gentleman strolled, with mossy fountains and bizarre statues of things not quite right erupting every so often from the ground. The entire scene was made of dreams, not quite physical but not quite mystical, stuck in a strange land between light and dark.

The pathway continued, stopping at a great bronze gate, faceted between mighty cobblestone walls. The gate was already aged reddish despite just being born, and the stones were dull and grey, shimmering when not looking at it directly, as if they weren’t really there. In fact, everything sort of disappeared in the peripheral, but when the eye darted to double check, there everything was as if it was always there.

The Gentleman’s smile somehow widened at his work, and the great gates screeched open before him so he may continue his stroll. Beyond the gates the lawn great somewhat more fantastical, with all sorts of strange flowers and bushes, some growing upside down, others inverted, and none quite right. At the end of the path was a row of steps, leading up to a massive double door of iron and wood. Great knockers were bolted to the door, but went unused as the presence of the Gentleman caused the doors to swing open unprovoked. The Gentleman’s stroll continued.

As he did, a wondrous hall materialized around him, matching his pace. Portraits of bizarre scenes and creatures hung on gaudily patterned walls, reliefs of strange languages molded the tops and bottoms of the hallway, and on either side great doors embedded themselves, each different than the last. Beyond each door, the Gentleman knew, hid a different scenario, a different dream. Each room was infinitely large as it was infinitely small, able to create anything possible, and anything impossible, such was the nature of dreams. The Gentleman’s smile bolded, knowing what entertainment he may seek there.

At last the Gentleman’s stroll stopped, having passed through a solid gold door at the end of the hallway, he now stood in a room. It was cavernous and shaped like a dome. Amazing shapes glittered the ceiling, and a void dark tile reflected it from the flood. At the center of the hollow room there was a raised dais, and atop that dais was a heavy throne of mahogany and gold. The Gentleman’s footsteps echoed loudly as he made his way to the dais, only softening as they reached a red carpet that spread over the dias. A few steps more and the Gentleman was at the throne. He sat, the wood curving to his back, and the floor hitting the soles of his feet at the perfect angle, it was his throne.

“A throne for the king,” the Gentleman said aloud, “a throne for K’nell, god of sleep.”

There was a silence, and slowly the Cheshire smile faded, at least as far as it could. He felt it once more, and his stomach rumbled. The joy of creation only entertained him for so long, only masked his existential truth for a moment. If he was to be well, he knew he would need to continue his masquerade with himself, and mask his purposelessness with creation and entertainment.

His eyes narrowed and with a strong THWACK he slammed his balled fists onto the armrests of his throne. Almost immediately there was a massive flash as the ethereal palace began to shimmer and pulse. It’s bricks were dreams, and it’s timbers were thoughts, fitting for the king of sleep.

“Anything can happen in a dream,” he thought out loud, his mind crafting a thought before his eyes. He saw the very Palace of dreams he sat in, it’s strange architecture ignoring the laws of reality, and it’s many halls and rooms filled with sleepers, those who may dream. His smile widened at the prospect, yes. An endless festival to keep him from remembering, an endless festival surely would give him more… more purpose? Perhaps.

He would need attendants. K’nell knew this foremost, knowing that he alone could not possibly host such a thing alone. His eyes darted upwards and the dream in front of him faded back into the background of the palace. K’nell’s gaze landed on the ceiling of the ballroom. Slowly etchings and murals began to scratch their way on the surface of the palace. The illuminations slowly formed and K’nells smile widened.

Made of the palace, made of dreams, his new creation suddenly plopped out of the ceiling and crashed onto the floor below. Slowly more and more fell to the ballroom floor, each landing with such a thud that it created a simple melody, until finally it stopped.

In front of the god stood a small host of creatures, non sentient but all willing. They were mere orbs made of K’nells own dreams and thoughts, much like the palace itself. Immediately K’nell felt a sickening kinship with them. He wasn’t sure why, but it disgusted him. Could it be perhaps, that these servants were to him as he was to his own creator? Existing simply to make dreams in his absence and upkeep the palace. With a dismissing wave of his hand the dreamweavers scattered, finding rooms to begin their creations and leaving K’nell with his thoughts.

K’nell’s smile faded as much as it could once more. What good are hosts and festivities without guests? Something in his gut told him the others may not be the best house guests, no, there must be another way to find guests. The palace emitted a wave of course, one powerful enough to lull all life on Galbar to eventually sleep, and just as K’nell would have it, this wave could be ridden by the sleeping, their destination: the palace and its many rooms, a dream for each guest. However there was a problem that K’nell recognized all too well: there was no one on Galbar. The gods eyes seemed to reflect disappointment, his grand plan that he had already formulated was so easily dismantled by this one key component.

K’nell looked forward, knowing something must be done about this…

summary

Sleep, and dreams have come into existence.

8fp spent on creating the Palace of Dreams
2fp on crafting the dreamweavers from the Palace of Dreams
10fp spent in total on dream related things
5 mp spent on securing the dream portfolio

10 fp and 0 mp remaining

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

A blink and the eyes had opened. There was no ceremony, no grand entrance, no amazing foreshadowing to this moment, just a blink and then suddenly the eyes had opened. As in sleep, you can never tell when you exactly started it, and sometimes it is equally hard to determine when you stopped.

A figure hidden in the dark briefly mulled this over, his birthplace compromised. The flashes of light around him burned his newborn eyes, and the sounds threatened to shatter his fresh ears, not to mention the smells. Despite his distaste, a never ending smile strained across his bizarre face, from eye to eye. His stomach rumbled, hidden away by the wreathing darkness. He was not hungry, and yet he felt an emptiness inside his stomach. Slowly it spread to his chest, and even out to his limbs. It tickled his skin and burned his mind, he was starving, but for what? Purpose. Immediately he felt the implications of his life, and even upon hearing the words of motivation of a great cyclops that had sat in front of him, he felt ever the empty.

Perhaps his great mistake was not being born a baby, who is blessed with the ability to ease into life, and better yet forget its beginning. Either way, the newborn was presented with a unique chance, and his pained stomach ushered him forward. The others seemed to fade from his peripheral as he walked up to the great cyclops. To him, the room was as empty as he was. In his mind the cacophony of echoes that had previously reigned supreme over the room scattered, and all that was left was a disembodied voice echoing from some unseen place.

“Did you create me?” The voice asked. The words floated with a childish innocence between the ever-smiling man and the mighty sitting cyclops, like peon to king, or son to father.

No sooner had the Architect’s face began to angle impassively away from Seihdhara before it was suddenly wrenched to glare straight at another--this time, another fiery figure. The bellowing Sartravius demanded his question, but just as a father might look down at a raging and petulant child as they shout and tantrum, the Architect remained cool and silent with an almost insulting level of calm. When Ashalla spoke her wisdom, having seemingly taken better than Sartravius to the purpose and information that he had tried to imprint upon them all, the Architect reaffirmed her sentiment by pointing one bony finger towards the rising crystals. The gesture was answer enough to the fir god’s demand--it told him to do exactly as his desired commanded him. To leave and wreak havoc elsewhere.

Though his attention had clearly been elsewhere, the eye still seemed to peer directly at K’nell as the nascent god stumbled forward. The ancient’s singular eye was large enough to look right at everything and everyone at once.

The depth and implication of K’nell’s inquiry left the Architect, however steeped in wisdom, contemplating for a moment how to even answer such a thing. ”I shaped all of you. I brought you here and gave you purpose and form, whereas before you were hollow echoes, or dead souls, or motes of emptiness. In exchange for these gifts, I expect loyalty.”

K’nell seemed to quietly soak in the information. Despite the silence he felt his thoughts echoing off the stony walls until finally they formed another sentence, spoken once more out of innocence, “What is my purpose?”

The question seemed to irritate the Architect. For all of his age and measured words, his patience was clearly short.

”I have already given you your purpose, and you know exactly what it is. Search your feelings; you know this to be true.”

A pang resounded in the empty pit that festered inside of K’nell. Despite his permanent smile, begging eyes looked up at the Architect with one final question, “Is.” The word bounced off the water, “is there nothing more?”

A silent eye was the only answer. K’nell tried to search its depths, but there was nothing in it to be seen. The meaning was as empty as himself, and for the first time since his recent conception, he wished he could frown.

Struck with a crisis, K’nell made his way away from his creator and to one of the many crystals. Gently he placed a defeated hand on the crystal.

summary

K'nell learns the truth, survives an encounter with Darth Vader, and is about to leave for good.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

Yay!