KZOMBI3

Delbrook Academy: Senior Year [ FULL ]

is there still some room for another character ... or two 😬😬😬

𝘿𝙀𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 ⌜ᴀ ɢᴏᴅ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ⌟

_{ᴛʀᴀɪɴ ᴡʀᴇᴄᴋ ɪɴʙᴏᴜɴᴅ}

Hati | of the Moon

ｈｅ ｗｈｏ ｈａｔｅｓ
_{𝓶𝓪́𝓷𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓻
𝓶𝓪́𝓷𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓻}

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	Daniel Sharman | #295751 ████████████████████████ 𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊   𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 ⌜ 𝐄 𝐏 𝐈 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐓 ⌟ Hati ⌜ Hróðvitnisson ⌟ ⌜ 𝐃 𝐎 𝐌 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍 ⌟ Devourer of the ⌜ Norse ⌟ Moon ⌜ 𝐏 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Norse Pantheon ☽ ° ☾

𝐃 𝐈 𝐕 𝐈 𝐍 𝐄 ☽ ° ☾ 𝐏 𝐎 𝐖 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒
_{^{𝓭𝓮𝓿𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓮𝓻 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓸𝓷}}

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𝐕 𝐄 𝐍 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐂
𝐕 𝐄 𝐍 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐂

_{\ vē-năt′ĭk \}

^{Given his previous role in life, Hati's senses are already above average. However, his skill lies with being able to track others down easily via various means, ranging from scents to footprints. With the amount of experience the white wolf possesses in chasing down an aesir in the sky Hati can follow tracks that are days or even weeks old. It comes in handy when chasing down criminals.}

𝐈 𝐍 𝐍 𝐄 𝐑 ☽ ° ☾ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐋 𝐅
_{^{𝓪 𝓬𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓷𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝓹𝓵𝓸𝓽𝓼}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Confident & Self-Assured Ambitious & Voracious Fierce & Tenacious ⌟	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Cold & Resentful Impressionable & Sadistic Relentless & Impulsive ⌟

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	████████████████████████ т н є м σ я т α ℓ   т н є м σ я т α ℓ ⌜ 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐀 𝐒 ⌟ Hadley ⌜ Haddy ⌟ Wolff ⌜ 𝐑 𝐄 𝐂 𝐎 𝐑 𝐃 𝐄 𝐃 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 ⌟ Twenty Six ⌜ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐗 𝐔 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 & 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍 𝐃 𝐄 𝐑 ⌟ Bisexual He / Him ⌜ 𝐎 𝐂 𝐂 𝐔 𝐏 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Recovery & Enforcement Agent aka Bounty Hunter

𝐋 𝐈 𝐅 𝐄 ☽ ° ☾ 𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐘
_{^{𝓱𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓻𝔂 𝓭𝓸𝓰𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓵𝓸𝔂𝓪𝓵}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲   𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲 ⌜ 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 𝕷 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 ⌟ ☽ ° ☾ When the Great Wolf, Fenrir, began to run amuck, he first went back to the place where he was born. It is not known what happened to him there, save that when he left, his maddened devouring rage had begun in earnest, and a wolf-woman of the Jarnvidur had borne two wolf-pups, the very image of their father. Sköll and Hatí were thrust into the world. While Hati's name means "Hater". Hati is also sometimes given two different last names - Hróðvitnisson (Son of Rage) and Managarm (Moon-hound). When Fenrir was chained, Hati and Sköll were the only ones who came to defend him. Loki and Angrboda themselves did not interfere, knowing the necessity of the binding, but the young sons tumbled forth in a vain attempt to free their father. Instead, they were captured by the Aesir, and Odin put them to use, bespelling them as he had bespelled the Great Snake. Sunna and Máni had often been known to dawdle or change their course, which meant that the days and nights were not always dependable and on time. Máni was especially bad at this, as he liked to look down on what was happening, and the adventures played out below his feet enchanted and delayed him. There had been complaints about this from many mouths, and so Odin put the two wolves into the sky as a way to make the chariots run on time, as it were. Hati was bespelled to give chase Máni's dog-cart, and Sköll was similarly charged with herding Sunna's chariot as a dog herds sheep. Making sure they were to keep with their paths trailing across the skies. While they do not spend all of their time in the sky - when the Sun and Moon are on time and stick to their schedules, the twin wolves were able to run "free" on the earth below - if either sky-etin is late, Hati and Sköll are lifted into the sky to do their job. Until the time of Ragnarök, when they will catch and devour these heavenly bodies. ██████████████████████ 𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲   𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲 ⌜ м σ я т α ℓ ℓ ι f є ⌟ ☽ ° ☾ A terrible calamity befell the earth, causing it to tremble and shake. The stars seemed to fall from their home in the heavens. When ashen white fur gave way to creamy flesh was the exact moment Hati realized something was horribly wrong. An imbalance within the universe. Aside from Máni and Sunna's tardiness. Glancing to his brother and reaching, holding him tight as they descended to Midgard was the only thing he could think to do. Being condemned to walk the mortal realm was just another form of binding. They were not truly free, just as they were never truly free before. Odin was still somehow to blame for this, even though he too suffered at the hands of the Fall. Roaming the lands, always tethered to the World Tree and the nectar brought forth from it was something that annoyed Hati to no end. He was able to venture and traverse the plane upon which he was stuck, but he wanted more. He wanted true freedom. Away from the likes of those who wished to harness him for their own personal agenda. No longer having to concern himself with Ragnarök and the prophecy he had a hand and bringing about. Now his time was focused on unleashing the blood thirsting tendencies within him. Hati has been keen on reuniting with the rest the family, seek their father out in order to provide some sort of comfort for one another. A sliver of muscle memory from before the Fall when the twins had tried to visit while Fenrir was chained up. And to lay into Loki for refusing to lift a finger to help. Unlike Sköll, Hati took to chasing and the capturing and dealing withs of criminals. A bounty hunter through the ages. Anything that would allow him to run and chase, to hunt and devour. The perfect hound of destruction. Something Odin took advantage of once more, instead presenting the chains of duty as something more glamorous than his previous offer. Head of Security, officially. Unofficially, personal guard dog. For a time Hati complied, easily swayed for the silver tongue Odin adapted over the course of his company spent with Loki. Until he retired and therefore Hati was free to return to a more... morally grey occupation. ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬   𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬 ⌜ α м в ι т ι σ и ѕ ⌟ ☽ ° ☾ To overtake and devour and have the blood of the Sun and Moon rain down on the earth. Break free of the chains that bind him and his family to an eternity of servitude and isolation. Bring forth the end of days and truly become free. However, with being on earth as long as he has Hati is no stranger to the idea that such things will not come to fruition. His family is free and that is more than he could have hoped for in the past. Hati wants to live out his remaining immortality regardless of how long that is, doing what he wants. Taking no orders, just Hati doing Hati. ⌜ f є α я ѕ ⌟ ☽ ° ☾ For everything to fall apart at the end. To wind up alone and desolate with no purpose. To be forever chained to the position that Odin has charged him and his brother with; to never know true freedom. Never be able to roam the earth free of all things that bind him to a false sense of duty.

Melinoë | Bringer of Nightmares

ｏｆ ｇｈｏｓｔｓ ａｎｄ ｍａｄｎｅｓｓ
_{Μ η λ ι ν ό η 
Μ η λ ι ν ό η}

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	Giuliana Alfano Graul giulianaxgg [insta] | #e9d66b ████████████████████████ 𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊   𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 ⌜ 𝐄 𝐏 𝐈 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐓 ⌟ Melinoë ⌜ Μηλινόη ⌟  ⌜ 𝐃 𝐎 𝐌 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍 ⌟ Ghosts, Hauntings, Restless spirits, Nightmares, Madness ⌜ 𝐏 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Greek Pantheon ☁

𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 ☁ 𝕻 𝖔 𝖜 𝖊 𝖗 𝖘
_{^{𝓯𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽}}

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𝐌 𝐚 𝐝 𝐧 𝐞 𝐬 𝐬
𝐌 𝐚 𝐝 𝐧 𝐞 𝐬 𝐬

_{\ ˈmad-nəs \}

Inducing a sense of... madness into those she touches. Uncovering one's deepest fears and using that knowledge to influence their dreams, warping them into nightmares. It brings her a sense of comfort in these trying times. A feeling of home she can take with her wherever she may roam. Crossing her comes at a price, one that does not bode well for many as she can induce a haunting terror - especially in the dead of night.

Mortal and Divine alike, no one is safe from the tendrils of madness.

𝕴 𝖓 𝖓 𝖊 𝖗 ☁ 𝕾 𝖊 𝖑 𝖋
^{_{𝓬𝓾𝓽 𝓱𝓲𝓶 𝓾𝓹 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵, 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓬𝓾𝓽 𝓱𝓲𝓶 𝓾𝓹}}

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███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Observant & Cunning Headstrong & Ambitious Alluring & Social ⌟	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅	███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Impatient & Vengeful Arrogant & Deceitful Manic & Sadistic ⌟

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	████████████████████████ т н є м σ я т α ℓ   т н є м σ я т α ℓ ⌜ 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐀 𝐒 ⌟ Melantha ⌜ Mel ⌟ Mavros ⌜ 𝐑 𝐄 𝐂 𝐎 𝐑 𝐃 𝐄 𝐃 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 ⌟ Twenty-Four ⌜ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐗 𝐔 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 & 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍 𝐃 𝐄 𝐑 ⌟ Bisexual | She/Her ⌜ 𝐎 𝐂 𝐂 𝐔 𝐏 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Spectre Founder & Head P.I.

𝐋 𝐈 𝐅 𝐄 ☁ 𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐘
^{_{𝓲'𝓵𝓵 𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓸𝓾𝓽, 𝓯𝓵𝓪𝔂 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮}}

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██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲   𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲 ⌜ 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 𝕷 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 ⌟ ☁ Has it ever crossed one's mind as to why dogs bark at nothing at night and shadows seem to move on their own? There once was a secretive group among the Grecians who believed they knew. They held the answers in their beliefs that it was Melinoë, daughter of Hades, who wandered the earth, flanked by a retinue of ghosts from the Underworld. Spirits, once wronged by the living, seeking vengeance by spreading fear and madness. Melinoë was not universally feared, however. There are those - the ones who believe in the whispers floating along through the dead of night, accompanied by the cries of dogs - that held onto the thought that she had a kindly side to her. One that was focused on righting wrongs. On justice. At least for those that followed her. Daughter of the King & Queen of the Underworld it should come as no surprise that her presence would discomfort others - however it seemed to be more than just her title that caused the hairs on the backs of one's neck to stand at attention. Not dissimilar to her older brother, Zagreus, Melinoë inherited their father's fierce and inexorable personality. She was beautiful, all Persephone's children were, though she failed to develop a delicate nature that seemed to come so effortlessly to her younger sister; Macaria. A notion Melinoë still finds irksome to this day. Melinoë was the middle child, the one doomed to fade into the background and be forgotten. Fitting as she was graced with the responsibility of presiding over propitiation and bringing justice to the wronged dead - recruiting those same restless spirits to her entourage that wander the land of the living forever. Fading into the night was something she was born to do. And she excelled at it. It was believed in those days that by offering libations, visiting graves, and otherwise honoring their dead, they would be protected from harmful spirits. Melinoë would then collect those offerings and carry them to the Underworld for the spirits there to enjoy. It was in those moments when propitiation was not completed that she brought madness upon them. Even when going unseen, she caused uneasiness and fear. Melinoë lived as comfortably as one could in the Underworld. Surrounded by all that gave her some spark of joy. Her responsibilities gave her a sense of purpose. A way to pull her weight. A way to shine and outperform the "blessedness" of her sister. Melinoë loves her little sister, has always tried to be a good example for her. Try as she might, there came a point when their lives diverged just as easily as their personalities. Macaria, the shining flame amongst the bitter whispers of cold in the dark. Who would choose madness over the blessed? Make no mistake, Melinoë did not hate her sister, though her jealousy to be as revered as Macaria sowed seeds of dislike and distance. Her brother, however, he was one of the few - if not only one - she showed her truest self to. Zagreus was magnetic and held this commanding presence she was sure only came about because he was the oldest. The Prince. Melinoë seemed to find it easier to communicate with him. At least for a time. Before he was tricked and taken from her. Her rage boiled and built beneath the surface of her character. Threatening to let loose whenever it saw fit to do so. It took a lot to calm the madness and not shirk her duties because of it. However, when her beloved brother returned home she was overjoyed, proclaiming to all with ears of the joyous moment. Though she knew he was not the same. Would never be the same... A seething hatred for Hera long since brewing deep within her, returned without hesitation and would be let loose upon the mortal plane. If only the dogs of war would sound for her fury against the Queen... ██████████████████████ 𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲   𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲 ⌜ м σ я т α ℓ ℓ ι f є ⌟ ☁ After the awakening Melinoë found herself among the others, disoriented, angry, elated. Lost. She became that which she had been bound to and responsible for. A lost soul, with no proper burial. No rites given. A lost soul hellbent on administering the justice she and all the others deserved. A fire lit within her belly that night, as she stood beneath the star littered sky, like millions of tiny candle flames winking as if they knew her inner most thoughts. It was beautiful. Truly a start to her new endeavor. Her new beginning. A new life. Melinoë wandered the earth, as far as her chains would allow. A petulant child, what she was referred to on numerous occasions by the "mighty ones". No more petulant than their own leaders. She first went to her brother, as their sister could not be found. Melinoë wondered if something more sinister took her from them... she sincerely hoped not. Especially since there was no way for them to reconnect should that be the case. She could see the delight spreading throughout Zagreus at the prospect of being unbound to his prison cell. So much so she wished she could join in. For the time, she was elated to just have him there with her. A solid foundation for her to rely on. Melinoë was fascinated with humans, fascinated and disgusted. She couldn't believe at how far they had fallen from the mortals of old. Their burials were subpar and disastrous - to those that could help it. Heart heart tugged at witnessing innocents being slaughtered in their sleep as villages burned to the ground around her. She still retained her ability to slip by unseen, however possible, moving in the shadows when she couldn't be more in the open. It was the way of the world, she assumed. Her hatred for Hera never abated and now it seemed she developed another crusade in which to direct some of the madness building inside. Melinoë took to dishing out her own revenge after having witnessed what she did. The thrill of the chase, the catch, the justice, did something to her and Melinoë liked it. It did take some time getting used to not having responsibilities like what she was used to. but it didn't deter her in the slightest. Still, to this day, there is like a phantom limb - a piece of her that's still there, reminding her of her old life. She finds herself a creature of the night. Constantly up at all hours, walking through streets or parks, sitting atop roofs and just overlooking the lands she currently occupies. Dogs still bark when she is near, either with fear or rage or adoration, she isn't too sure of most times, and madness follows her like a shadow stretching out it's tendrils to constrict those it comes in contact with. Fighting for the justice of others who had been dealt a shitty hand came quite easy to the Bringer of Nightmares; easier than she initially thought in this new life of hers. With that in mind she sought out to create a name for herself in helping those who were less fortunate and lost - like herself. To spread the madness and fear with a clear purpose and goal. Spectre was born in those few years after waking. Investigating crimes against mortals and gods alike. Brandishing her own form of punishment on all those that were found guilty in her eyes. Regardless of her appearance and age, Melinoë's track record speaks for themselves. It also helps that a lot of the clientele she's garnered wouldn't dare speak out against her even if they wanted. Is it all completely ethical? Probably not. Does she care? Not one bit. ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬   𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬 ⌜ α м в ι т ι σ и ѕ ⌟ ☁ Hera's soul to be tormented without end within the depths of Tartarus while her head sits on a pike at the foot of seat would be a nice start... ⌜ f є α я ѕ ⌟ ☁ Losing her family for good. To be unable to reconnect, or connect in general, with her family. Specifically Macaria. She owes a lot to her little sister. To be and remain lost for all eternity.

Tlazōlteōtl | Goddess of Filth

ｅａｔｅｒ ｏｆ ｓｉｎ
_{d e i t y of d i r t 
d e i t y of d i r t}

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	raven lyn corneil | #00CC99 ████████████████████████ 𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊   𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 ⌜ 𝐄 𝐏 𝐈 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐓 ⌟ Tlazōlteōtl ⌜ Laz ⌟ ⌜ 𝐃 𝐎 𝐌 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍 ⌟ Goddess of Filth ⌜ 𝐏 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Huaxtec - Aztec ♁

𝐃 𝐈 𝐕 𝐈 𝐍 𝐄 ♁ 𝐏 𝐎 𝐖 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒
_{^{𝓭𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓭𝓮𝓫𝓪𝓾𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻𝔂}}

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𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

_{\ tem(p)-ˈtā-shən \}

Sin.
In it's most basic form, a transgression against all things holy and good. An action that is or is felt to be highly reprehensible. A vitiated state of human nature. A natural part of life. One of the few things that mortals and Gods alike can agree they share. It's only right that a sin eater would be able to sense out the presence of sins of her beloved worshipers. Gaining a detailed understanding of the vice — turning their lust and misdeeds, lascivious thoughts into memorable, obtainable and oft times tangible experiences.

The devil on your shoulder never looked so... tempting~

Tlazōlteōtl is able to sense and manipulate the sins and vices of others; increasing the emotional need to a more... physical level. Thus gaining further knowledge from the "victim" for her to do with as she sees fit. Should it benefit her... Being able to tip someone over the edge into the embrace of sin gives her a rush of adrenaline. Convincing them that their even their lowest, most base form is nothing to turn away from but rather embrace brings her a sense of comfort. A comfort she hadn't realized she missed when the Fall initially took place.

After all, succumbing to desire and sin are something even the mightiest of Gods are guilty of...

𝐈 𝐍 𝐍 𝐄 𝐑 ♁ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐋 𝐅
_{^{𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓹𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓽 𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Ambitious & Confident Vivacious & Charismatic Gregarious & Magnetic ⌟	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Amoral & Unapologetic Self Indulgent & Voracious Capricious & Vulnerable ⌟

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	████████████████████████ т н є м σ я т α ℓ   т н є м σ я т α ℓ ⌜ 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐀 𝐒 ⌟ Tlalli ⌜ Lalli ⌟ Teotl ⌜ 𝐑 𝐄 𝐂 𝐎 𝐑 𝐃 𝐄 𝐃 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 ⌟ Twenty Seven - Thirty ⌜ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐗 𝐔 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 & 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍 𝐃 𝐄 𝐑 ⌟ Pansexual She / Her ⌜ 𝐎 𝐂 𝐂 𝐔 𝐏 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ ✦ Founder & CEO of Illicit ✦ CEO & Owner of The Jade Jaguar

𝐋 𝐈 𝐅 𝐄 ♁ 𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐘
_{^{𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓮, 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓼}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲   𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲 ⌜ 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 𝕷 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 ⌟ ♁ ⌜ "I AM EVIL. I AM THE FILTH GODDESS TLAZOLTÉOTL. I AM THE SWALLOWER OF SINS. THE LUST GODDESS WITHOUT GUILT. The delicious debauchery. You bring out the primordial exquisiteness in me. The nasty obsession in me. The corporal and venial sin in me. The original transgression in me." ⌟ Mercy is sought out by the weak. The cowardice it holds over mortals is powerful. Too powerful. Yet, the taste is a delicacy. Being able to forgive the sins - the unholiness of mortals - and take that sin upon herself was something Tlazōlteōtl looked forward to. 'What sort of sins to cleanse today?' It was like a surprise gift given to her, all wrapped up in an unassuming package. Though, she could only purify those who beseech her once, and only once, in their life. Tlazōlteōtl was highly sought after among the masses. Inspiring both tame and vicious desires among her people. New and exciting sins cropping up like the new year's harvest was a game for her. One she was winning at. A delicious cycle it was. To encourage and entice into debaucherous deeds and then on the reverse help cleanse those same sins. Mortals would flock to her, seeking pleasure, basking in their sinful desires before the glory of battle. So wrapped up in their own misdeeds that they wouldn't ever think twice about consequences. And then the morning after, before taking off to war they would seek her forgiveness; steam baths were preferable - maybe it was the scalding waters that made them feel as if their deeds were being removed? The elderly were typically the ones who would seek out counsel of her priests, praying for her to bless and purify them. The inexperienced, the ill-informed, naive bunch, who had no knowledge before hand would turn around the next morning - rushing to speak with a priest of the Goddess of Filth, begging for a cleansing of their misdeeds. Poor things don't realize she only grants total absolution only once... 'Best make it count~' All of which she would bestow. A whispered promise to see them again when they returned. They always returned. Just as easily as she could be enjoyed and her sin encouraged and celebrated, she was still a Goddess who would afflict those around her with diseases should they ever indulge themselves in things they shouldn't. Things few and far between, but there nonetheless. A lonely life. To be surrounded and sought after daily but having nothing to truly return to. There was Piltzintecuhtli, a union not entirely holy and spoken of with much adoration. Barely a union at all besides the one night. But that's all it took for Centeōtl to be born into the world. Her life was changed all for the better. Tlazōlteōtl was a mother to her own, someone to love her unconditionally and for her to feel the same. He became one of the most important deities to their people and a proud mother she was. At a cost. He was sacrificed in order to bring plants to the mortals. Her sweet baby boy, so full of joy and life, cut down in his prime all for the sake of mortals. But because of who he was, Centeōtl went without struggle and without hesitancy; though it was clear to his mother how fearful he truly was. Quetzalcóatl ordered it, so it was. Tlazōlteōtl would never forget this transgression, nor would she ever forgive. Eons, it felt, went by without her child in her arms. Catering to the sins and desires and whims of the mortals who benefited from her son's murder. She took delight in punishing those who deserved it, making it more unnecessary than truly need be. They needed to pay for their part in it all. Tlazōlteōtl thoroughly enjoys increasing the unholy nature of those she comes in contact with, it makes time pass by more bearably. A life so intimately solitary, only called upon when the need arises coupled with the loss of her only child has made the Deity of Dirt skeptical and uneasy to true intentions. Though she is always hopeful she will find the, ever cliche, "one". A lonely life to only be sought after, used and then forgotten. Until the next time. ██████████████████████ 𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲   𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲 ⌜ м σ я т α ℓ ℓ ι f є ⌟ ♁ When she fell, she fell hard yet willingly. Tlazōlteōtl didn't fight the feeling, instead simply embracing it. She knew it most certainly meant her demise, her death, but she didn't mind. Not really. The thought of being reunited with her son brought a spark of hope to her in a dark, dark time. However, when she awoke - she isn't sure how long after - she was distraught on a much different level than the other immortals surrounding her. After a time, witnessing everyone come and go, trying to find their way in this new home of theirs, she steeled herself to make a change. Centeōtl would not wish this for her. He took to his fate as dutifully as he could, better even given the age, and yet here she was throwing herself a pity party. No more. Tlazōlteōtl pushed through the darkness, emerging much more than her former shell. Charisma and sex oozed from her with every new step she took and the goddess never looked back. As the years went on, Tlazōlteōtl found that she couldn't have been more elated than she was, to be dwelling among those that worshiped the ground upon which she walked. Basking in the lust and unwavering adoration for and to her, their Goddess of Purification and Sin. It hit differently, now that she was physically here, a higher being among mortals. Taking on the same skin as them, flesh of the Earth. Bound to everything the world has to offer and in such a permanent way. It brought about the same highs as before - maybe even stronger, given her mortal-like state. Though with all the lust and desires that come crawling to her, she is without true companionship and love. There have been some to catch her attention, pull at her heart strings, make her believe that this time it's real. Only to be reminded of the cruel truth of what it means to be human. Instead, still there lies a void located within her chest. The tendrils of desperate loneliness strangle her soul, squeezing until it's too difficult to breathe. Time heals all wounds is a farce. But it does allow for new sins to take root and crop up. And Tlazōlteōtl couldn't grow bored with the buffet set before her. It didn't help that her most devoted were soon wiped from the face of the soil she now called home and her wrath plagued the area of which they used to reside. It's been awhile since and though her anger is far from smothered, she is at least bolstering it to mingle with the mortals that still milled about the earth. Sin isn't going away soon and neither is she. She's resided herself to the notion that she may never be more than anything but a sin eater and though it is far from what she desires, she has learned to push past it. To a degree. For now, she does what she does best; having created an escort service, as well as a strip club, bringing out the filth of those around her and take their guilt and applying a more favorable purification on their aching souls. If anything, Tlazōlteōtl is getting her fill, and business is booming. ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬   𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬 ⌜ α м в ι т ι σ и ѕ ⌟ ♁ To be loved. Actually, truly loved. Never having to worry of being used and tossed aside as she has been for the last so many years. Love for the sake of love and not for anything else. ⌜ f є α я ѕ ⌟ ♁ Trapped in an endless cycle of loneliness. She fears that the ones she is closest too are using her for her talents and gifts and therefore keeps most everyone at an arms length. Never truly trusting her feelings and the intentions of others.

Odin | the Allfather

ｔｈｅ ａｌｌ ｆａｔｈｅｒ
_{Ó ð i n n
Ó ð i n n}

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	Travis Fimmel | #536878 ████████████████████████ 𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊   𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 ⌜ 𝐄 𝐏 𝐈 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐓 ⌟ Odin ⌜ Alföðr ⌟ ⌜ 𝐃 𝐎 𝐌 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍 ⌟ Allfather ⌜ wisdom, war, etc. ⌟ ⌜ 𝐏 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Norse Pantheon ◈

𝐃 𝐈 𝐕 𝐈 𝐍 𝐄 ◈ 𝐏 𝐎 𝐖 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒
_{^{Enn skal lytte, når en gammel hund gjø}}

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𝐀 𝐌 𝐀 𝐑 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐇 𝐈 𝐍 𝐄
𝐀 𝐌 𝐀 𝐑 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐇 𝐈 𝐍 𝐄

_{\a-mə-ˈran(t)-thən\}

^{Whatever source of information that has been presented to the Allfather he is able to recall and utilize. His access to knowledge of anything he's read/seen/heard is unlimited. Which he can then use to his own benefit and gain in this life amongst mortals. Eidetic memory on steroids.}

𝐈 𝐍 𝐍 𝐄 𝐑 ◈ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐋 𝐅
_{^{Tíðin rennur sum streymur í á}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Observant & Adroit Courageous & Voracious Ambitious & Poetic ⌟	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Stoic & Tenacious Ruthless & Condescending Manipulative & Relentless ⌟

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	████████████████████████ т н є м σ я т α ℓ   т н є м σ я т α ℓ ⌜ 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐀 𝐒 ⌟ Øyvind ⌜ Vind ⌟ Börson ⌜ 𝐑 𝐄 𝐂 𝐎 𝐑 𝐃 𝐄 𝐃 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 ⌟ Forty - Nine ⌜ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐗 𝐔 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 & 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍 𝐃 𝐄 𝐑 ⌟ Bisexual He / Him ⌜ 𝐎 𝐂 𝐂 𝐔 𝐏 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ CEO & Founder Runic Publishing House CEO & Founder Wōden CEO ⌜ & Founder ⌟ Saga Antiquities

𝐋 𝐈 𝐅 𝐄 ◈ 𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐘
_{^{Gammel kjærleik rustar ikkje}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲   𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲 ⌜ 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 𝕷 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 ⌟ ◈ In most texts, Odin was depicted as a long-bearded, one-eyed man wearing a broad hat and a cloak, wielding his spear, Gungnir. Something that never failed to make the Allfather smile in mirth upon listening as he sat among the midgardians. However, if he ever did make his face appear to the mortals, and wanted them to knowit was him, Odin made sure to appear as they thought he looked. In his never ending quest to obtain wisdom and knowledge, he sought out Mimir, an extremely wise god in his own right. Mimir possessed the well Mímisbrunnrl; beneath one of three roots of Yggdrasil, said that the waters contained substantial wisdom and knowledge, and if someone drank from the well they would also gain wisdom. Though, Mimir required that whosoever shall drink from the well sacrifice one of their eyes. Odin agreed. A small price to pay for the pursuit of understanding. Not too terribly long after was Mimir giving counsel to another Aesir god; cheating out the Vanir, was seized and beheaded and then his head sent to Asgard. Upon receiving, Odin took the head, embalmed it with herbs so that it would not rot, and spoke charms over it, which gave it the power to speak to him and reveal to him secrets. He planned on keeping his counsel wherever he went. Anything to have a leg up on information on the other worlds. Ruling from his throne Hlidskjalf, he was able to observe all that happens in the nine realms. Accompanied by the wolves Freki and Geri, to whom he gives his food for he himself consumes nothing but wine, the ravens Huginn and Muninn, who bring him information from all over Midgard, eyes ablaze like a frozen lake with a fire burning bright beneath it's sheet, Odin ruled over Asgard with an iron fist clad in gold. Though his intentions were noble in all but results. His pursuit of knowledge and wisdom,His intentions were noble, but misguided, and he genuinely wanted what was best for his people and the realms as he sought to prevent Ragnarök (an event that would go on to kill myriads of innocent people including the Aesir and the Vanir) from happening. Centuries of reigning undisputed with unlimited power as well as a lifetime of failed trials however, had gradually hardened him to the point where he was unable, or perhaps, unwilling to accept that his actions and the actions of his fellow Aesir was having a negative effect and was in fact leading them all ironically into causing the very disaster that he was trying so long to avoid. ██████████████████████ 𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲   𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲 ⌜ м σ я т α ℓ ℓ ι f є ⌟ ◈ After the Fall Odin was gifted a plethora of free time. Meant to be spent however he saw fit. Coming to was something of a blindside for the Allfather... something the knowledge seeker did not appreciate. All the knowledge and wisdom and understanding and he was caught unprepared. He first feared that it was a path of Ragnarök that he had misinterpreted. That must have been it. It was the only logical explanation for this twisted turn of events. And so, Odin's paranoia grabbed a-hold of him tightly, plaguing his mind and the days turned years spent on Midgard among those who worshiped him. Soon the irrational fears of the end of days and all those involved slowly dispersed from his mind. Knowledge is what drove him around the world, amidst the paranoia driven actions. He became the moniker the midgardians bestowed upon him all those years ago; a traveler. The Traveler. Traversing the entire realm absorbing the teachings of the great minds and putting them to good use; one way or another. Scouring the globe for artifacts in the form of weapons, tomes, everyday mundane items. Anything to learn from, to feel closer to the godhood he once possessed. To use and wield the power, even if it was metaphorical. However, it wasn't enough for him. No. Odin craved the interaction among the others like him; other gods - he cared not for which pantheon they belonged to. He saw it as the ultimate cornucopia of insight. Who better to learn new things from than the gods who resided over their own ilk? He was successful in his endeavors and took his learnings and turned it into an empire with which he could live off of. A kingdom among men. An empire built on the collection of secrets and backroom dealings and pouring himself over tomes, scrolls, textbooks, running this body of his ragged just for the mere taste. It all became worth it, when he started up not only a publishing company, but a networking and of course one that dealt in antiquities one as well. From there Odin's empire only grew, over the years he was able to establish and shadow run other businesses; effectively making the Börson a name known 'round the globe for having their fingers in a number of different pies. Now, however, you can find Øyvind Börson living it up in "retirement". Though he uses that term loosely. There is always someone somewhere that insists on pestering the Allfather with trivial matters. All of which he is expected to be responsible for and deal with. He will of course because honestly he detests idle hands. Odin is still a seeker of knowledge and a lot of the times can be found sitting in the back of university classes, absorbing the lessons spouted by midgardians in less than enthusiastic tones, stuck in his own private museum pouring over ancient texts or tending to some other piece of equipment. There's even a high chance of catching him dancing around his penthouse a la Tom Cruise in 'Risky Business'. What does he care? He's retired... he shouldn't be bothered for 'nothing but a good time. ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬   𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬 ⌜ α м в ι т ι σ и ѕ ⌟ ◈ To seek out all the knowledge the world has to offer. To obtain to unobtainable. Collect as many artifacts from the different pantheons and learn from them. To be able to prevent such a disaster as the Fall from ever taking root within the Nine Realms and lording it over the different pantheons and the immortals that reside within them. ⌜ f є α я ѕ ⌟ ◈ The end of days. Ragnarök. It's not so much a fear as it was when he first learned of the inevitability. However, a millennia or so has passed and though it isn't as prevalent within the forefront of Odin's mind, it is still there. He fears that, upon looking at his fellow counterparts of the opposite pantheons, he will, or rather has, become a lot like them in their relationships with their children. The absentee, the neglectful, the bane of their existence. He doesn't like these feelings and has been trying to rectify it all. In his own way.

𝔄𝔠𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔚𝔞𝔶𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡 ℜ𝔬𝔶𝔞𝔩𝔰 (𝔜𝔢 𝔒𝔩𝔡 𝔅𝔬𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔖𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔬𝔩 𝔣𝔬𝔯 ℜ𝔬𝔶𝔞𝔩 𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡)

perfect~ ok I'll PM you a sheet sometime today!!

𝔄𝔠𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔚𝔞𝔶𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡 ℜ𝔬𝔶𝔞𝔩𝔰 (𝔜𝔢 𝔒𝔩𝔡 𝔅𝔬𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔖𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔬𝔩 𝔣𝔬𝔯 ℜ𝔬𝔶𝔞𝔩 𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡)

@Maiden of Mist is it modern day royalty or ....

𝔄𝔠𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔚𝔞𝔶𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡 ℜ𝔬𝔶𝔞𝔩𝔰 (𝔜𝔢 𝔒𝔩𝔡 𝔅𝔬𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔖𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔬𝔩 𝔣𝔬𝔯 ℜ𝔬𝔶𝔞𝔩 𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡)

this looks really interesting. absolutely love the concept. im on the fence with filling out an app mainly bc a lot is going on BUUUUUUUUT what's one more rp? right? imma def be lurking

𝘿𝙀𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 ⌜ᴀ ɢᴏᴅ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ⌟

_{ᴛʀᴀɪɴ ᴡʀᴇᴄᴋ ɪɴʙᴏᴜɴᴅ}

Hati | of the Moon

ｈｅ ｗｈｏ ｈａｔｅｓ
_{𝓶𝓪́𝓷𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓻
𝓶𝓪́𝓷𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓻}

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	Sebastian Stan | #295751 ████████████████████████ 𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊   𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 ⌜ 𝐄 𝐏 𝐈 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐓 ⌟ Hati ⌜ Hróðvitnisson ⌟ ⌜ 𝐃 𝐎 𝐌 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍 ⌟ Devourer of the ⌜ Norse ⌟ Moon ⌜ 𝐏 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Norse Pantheon ☽ ° ☾

𝐃 𝐈 𝐕 𝐈 𝐍 𝐄 ☽ ° ☾ 𝐏 𝐎 𝐖 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒
_{^{𝓭𝓮𝓿𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓮𝓻 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓸𝓷}}

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𝐕 𝐄 𝐍 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐂
𝐕 𝐄 𝐍 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐂

_{\ vē-năt′ĭk \}

^{Given his previous role in life, Hati's senses are already above average. However, his skill lies with being able to track others down easily via various means, ranging from scents to footprints. With the amount of experience the white wolf possesses in chasing down an aesir in the sky Hati can follow tracks that are days or even weeks old. It comes in handy when chasing down criminals.}

𝐈 𝐍 𝐍 𝐄 𝐑 ☽ ° ☾ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐋 𝐅
_{^{𝓪 𝓬𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓷𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝓹𝓵𝓸𝓽𝓼}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Confident & Self-Assured Ambitious & Voracious Fierce & Tenacious ⌟	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Cold & Resentful Impressionable & Sadistic Relentless & Impulsive ⌟

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	████████████████████████ т н є м σ я т α ℓ   т н є м σ я т α ℓ ⌜ 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐀 𝐒 ⌟ Hadley ⌜ Haddy ⌟ Wolff ⌜ 𝐑 𝐄 𝐂 𝐎 𝐑 𝐃 𝐄 𝐃 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 ⌟ Twenty Six ⌜ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐗 𝐔 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 & 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍 𝐃 𝐄 𝐑 ⌟ Bisexual He / Him ⌜ 𝐎 𝐂 𝐂 𝐔 𝐏 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Recovery & Enforcement Agent aka Bounty Hunter

𝐋 𝐈 𝐅 𝐄 ☽ ° ☾ 𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐘
_{^{𝓱𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓻𝔂 𝓭𝓸𝓰𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓵𝓸𝔂𝓪𝓵}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲   𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲 ⌜ 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 𝕷 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 ⌟ ☽ ° ☾ When the Great Wolf, Fenrir, began to run amuck, he first went back to the place where he was born. It is not known what happened to him there, save that when he left, his maddened devouring rage had begun in earnest, and a wolf-woman of the Jarnvidur had borne two wolf-pups, the very image of their father. Sköll and Hatí were thrust into the world. While Hati's name means "Hater". Hati is also sometimes given two different last names - Hróðvitnisson (Son of Rage) and Managarm (Moon-hound). When Fenrir was chained, Hati and Sköll were the only ones who came to defend him. Loki and Angrboda themselves did not interfere, knowing the necessity of the binding, but the young sons tumbled forth in a vain attempt to free their father. Instead, they were captured by the Aesir, and Odin put them to use, bespelling them as he had bespelled the Great Snake. Sunna and Máni had often been known to dawdle or change their course, which meant that the days and nights were not always dependable and on time. Máni was especially bad at this, as he liked to look down on what was happening, and the adventures played out below his feet enchanted and delayed him. There had been complaints about this from many mouths, and so Odin put the two wolves into the sky as a way to make the chariots run on time, as it were. Hati was bespelled to give chase Máni's dog-cart, and Sköll was similarly charged with herding Sunna's chariot as a dog herds sheep. Making sure they were to keep with their paths trailing across the skies. While they do not spend all of their time in the sky - when the Sun and Moon are on time and stick to their schedules, the twin wolves were able to run "free" on the earth below - if either sky-etin is late, Hati and Sköll are lifted into the sky to do their job. Until the time of Ragnarök, when they will catch and devour these heavenly bodies. ██████████████████████ 𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲   𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲 ⌜ м σ я т α ℓ ℓ ι f є ⌟ ☽ ° ☾ A terrible calamity befell the earth, causing it to tremble and shake. The stars seemed to fall from their home in the heavens. When ashen white fur gave way to creamy flesh was the exact moment Hati realized something was horribly wrong. An imbalance within the universe. Aside from Máni and Sunna's tardiness. Glancing to his brother and reaching, holding him tight as they descended to Midgard was the only thing he could think to do. Being condemned to walk the mortal realm was just another form of binding. They were not truly free, just as they were never truly free before. Odin was still somehow to blame for this, even though he too suffered at the hands of the Fall. Roaming the lands, always tethered to the World Tree and the nectar brought forth from it was something that annoyed Hati to no end. He was able to venture and traverse the plane upon which he was stuck, but he wanted more. He wanted true freedom. Away from the likes of those who wished to harness him for their own personal agenda. No longer having to concern himself with Ragnarök and the prophecy he had a hand and bringing about. Now his time was focused on unleashing the blood thirsting tendencies within him. Hati has been keen on reuniting with the rest the family, seek their father out in order to provide some sort of comfort for one another. A sliver of muscle memory from before the Fall when the twins had tried to visit while Fenrir was chained up. And to lay into Loki for refusing to lift a finger to help. Unlike Sköll, Hati took to chasing and the capturing and dealing withs of criminals. A bounty hunter through the ages. Anything that would allow him to run and chase, to hunt and devour. The perfect hound of destruction. Something Odin took advantage of once more, instead presenting the chains of duty as something more glamorous than his previous offer. Head of Security, officially. Unofficially, personal guard dog. For a time Hati complied, easily swayed for the silver tongue Odin adapted over the course of his company spent with Loki. Until he retired and therefore Hati was free to return to a more... morally grey occupation. ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬   𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬 ⌜ α м в ι т ι σ и ѕ ⌟ ☽ ° ☾ To overtake and devour and have the blood of the Sun and Moon rain down on the earth. Break free of the chains that bind him and his family to an eternity of servitude and isolation. Bring forth the end of days and truly become free. However, with being on earth as long as he has Hati is no stranger to the idea that such things will not come to fruition. His family is free and that is more than he could have hoped for in the past. Hati wants to live out his remaining immortality regardless of how long that is, doing what he wants. Taking no orders, just Hati doing Hati. ⌜ f є α я ѕ ⌟ ☽ ° ☾ For everything to fall apart at the end. To wind up alone and desolate with no purpose. To be forever chained to the position that Odin has charged him and his brother with; to never know true freedom. Never be able to roam the earth free of all things that bind him to a false sense of duty.

Melinoë | Bringer of Nightmares

ｏｆ ｇｈｏｓｔｓ ａｎｄ ｍａｄｎｅｓｓ
_{Μ η λ ι ν ό η 
Μ η λ ι ν ό η}

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	Giuliana Alfano Graul giulianaxgg [insta] | #e9d66b ████████████████████████ 𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊   𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 ⌜ 𝐄 𝐏 𝐈 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐓 ⌟ Melinoë ⌜ Μηλινόη ⌟  ⌜ 𝐃 𝐎 𝐌 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍 ⌟ Ghosts, Hauntings, Restless spirits, Nightmares, Madness ⌜ 𝐏 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Greek Pantheon ☁

𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 ☁ 𝕻 𝖔 𝖜 𝖊 𝖗 𝖘
_{^{𝓯𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽}}

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𝐌 𝐚 𝐝 𝐧 𝐞 𝐬 𝐬
𝐌 𝐚 𝐝 𝐧 𝐞 𝐬 𝐬

_{\ ˈmad-nəs \}

Inducing a sense of... madness into those she touches. Uncovering one's deepest fears and using that knowledge to influence their dreams, warping them into nightmares. It brings her a sense of comfort in these trying times. A feeling of home she can take with her wherever she may roam. Crossing her comes at a price, one that does not bode well for many as she can induce a haunting terror - especially in the dead of night.

Mortal and Divine alike, no one is safe from the tendrils of madness.

𝕴 𝖓 𝖓 𝖊 𝖗 ☁ 𝕾 𝖊 𝖑 𝖋
^{_{𝓬𝓾𝓽 𝓱𝓲𝓶 𝓾𝓹 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵, 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓬𝓾𝓽 𝓱𝓲𝓶 𝓾𝓹}}

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███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Observant & Cunning Headstrong & Ambitious Alluring & Social ⌟	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅	███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Impatient & Vengeful Arrogant & Deceitful Manic & Sadistic ⌟

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	████████████████████████ т н є м σ я т α ℓ   т н є м σ я т α ℓ ⌜ 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐀 𝐒 ⌟ Melantha ⌜ Mel ⌟ Mavros ⌜ 𝐑 𝐄 𝐂 𝐎 𝐑 𝐃 𝐄 𝐃 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 ⌟ Twenty-Four ⌜ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐗 𝐔 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 & 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍 𝐃 𝐄 𝐑 ⌟ Bisexual | She/Her ⌜ 𝐎 𝐂 𝐂 𝐔 𝐏 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Spectre Founder & Head P.I.

𝐋 𝐈 𝐅 𝐄 ☁ 𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐘
^{_{𝓲'𝓵𝓵 𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓸𝓾𝓽, 𝓯𝓵𝓪𝔂 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮}}

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██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲   𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲 ⌜ 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 𝕷 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 ⌟ ☁ Has it ever crossed one's mind as to why dogs bark at nothing at night and shadows seem to move on their own? There once was a secretive group among the Grecians who believed they knew. They held the answers in their beliefs that it was Melinoë, daughter of Hades, who wandered the earth, flanked by a retinue of ghosts from the Underworld. Spirits, once wronged by the living, seeking vengeance by spreading fear and madness. Melinoë was not universally feared, however. There are those - the ones who believe in the whispers floating along through the dead of night, accompanied by the cries of dogs - that held onto the thought that she had a kindly side to her. One that was focused on righting wrongs. On justice. At least for those that followed her. Daughter of the King & Queen of the Underworld it should come as no surprise that her presence would discomfort others - however it seemed to be more than just her title that caused the hairs on the backs of one's neck to stand at attention. Not dissimilar to her older brother, Zagreus, Melinoë inherited their father's fierce and inexorable personality. She was beautiful, all Persephone's children were, though she failed to develop a delicate nature that seemed to come so effortlessly to her younger sister; Macaria. A notion Melinoë still finds irksome to this day. Melinoë was the middle child, the one doomed to fade into the background and be forgotten. Fitting as she was graced with the responsibility of presiding over propitiation and bringing justice to the wronged dead - recruiting those same restless spirits to her entourage that wander the land of the living forever. Fading into the night was something she was born to do. And she excelled at it. It was believed in those days that by offering libations, visiting graves, and otherwise honoring their dead, they would be protected from harmful spirits. Melinoë would then collect those offerings and carry them to the Underworld for the spirits there to enjoy. It was in those moments when propitiation was not completed that she brought madness upon them. Even when going unseen, she caused uneasiness and fear. Melinoë lived as comfortably as one could in the Underworld. Surrounded by all that gave her some spark of joy. Her responsibilities gave her a sense of purpose. A way to pull her weight. A way to shine and outperform the "blessedness" of her sister. Melinoë loves her little sister, has always tried to be a good example for her. Try as she might, there came a point when their lives diverged just as easily as their personalities. Macaria, the shining flame amongst the bitter whispers of cold in the dark. Who would choose madness over the blessed? Make no mistake, Melinoë did not hate her sister, though her jealousy to be as revered as Macaria sowed seeds of dislike and distance. Her brother, however, he was one of the few - if not only one - she showed her truest self to. Zagreus was magnetic and held this commanding presence she was sure only came about because he was the oldest. The Prince. Melinoë seemed to find it easier to communicate with him. At least for a time. Before he was tricked and taken from her. Her rage boiled and built beneath the surface of her character. Threatening to let loose whenever it saw fit to do so. It took a lot to calm the madness and not shirk her duties because of it. However, when her beloved brother returned home she was overjoyed, proclaiming to all with ears of the joyous moment. Though she knew he was not the same. Would never be the same... A seething hatred for Hera long since brewing deep within her, returned without hesitation and would be let loose upon the mortal plane. If only the dogs of war would sound for her fury against the Queen... ██████████████████████ 𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲   𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲 ⌜ м σ я т α ℓ ℓ ι f є ⌟ ☁ After the awakening Melinoë found herself among the others, disoriented, angry, elated. Lost. She became that which she had been bound to and responsible for. A lost soul, with no proper burial. No rites given. A lost soul hellbent on administering the justice she and all the others deserved. A fire lit within her belly that night, as she stood beneath the star littered sky, like millions of tiny candle flames winking as if they knew her inner most thoughts. It was beautiful. Truly a start to her new endeavor. Her new beginning. A new life. Melinoë wandered the earth, as far as her chains would allow. A petulant child, what she was referred to on numerous occasions by the "mighty ones". No more petulant than their own leaders. She first went to her brother, as their sister could not be found. Melinoë wondered if something more sinister took her from them... she sincerely hoped not. Especially since there was no way for them to reconnect should that be the case. She could see the delight spreading throughout Zagreus at the prospect of being unbound to his prison cell. So much so she wished she could join in. For the time, she was elated to just have him there with her. A solid foundation for her to rely on. Melinoë was fascinated with humans, fascinated and disgusted. She couldn't believe at how far they had fallen from the mortals of old. Their burials were subpar and disastrous - to those that could help it. Heart heart tugged at witnessing innocents being slaughtered in their sleep as villages burned to the ground around her. She still retained her ability to slip by unseen, however possible, moving in the shadows when she couldn't be more in the open. It was the way of the world, she assumed. Her hatred for Hera never abated and now it seemed she developed another crusade in which to direct some of the madness building inside. Melinoë took to dishing out her own revenge after having witnessed what she did. The thrill of the chase, the catch, the justice, did something to her and Melinoë liked it. It did take some time getting used to not having responsibilities like what she was used to. but it didn't deter her in the slightest. Still, to this day, there is like a phantom limb - a piece of her that's still there, reminding her of her old life. She finds herself a creature of the night. Constantly up at all hours, walking through streets or parks, sitting atop roofs and just overlooking the lands she currently occupies. Dogs still bark when she is near, either with fear or rage or adoration, she isn't too sure of most times, and madness follows her like a shadow stretching out it's tendrils to constrict those it comes in contact with. Fighting for the justice of others who had been dealt a shitty hand came quite easy to the Bringer of Nightmares; easier than she initially thought in this new life of hers. With that in mind she sought out to create a name for herself in helping those who were less fortunate and lost - like herself. To spread the madness and fear with a clear purpose and goal. Spectre was born in those few years after waking. Investigating crimes against mortals and gods alike. Brandishing her own form of punishment on all those that were found guilty in her eyes. Regardless of her appearance and age, Melinoë's track record speaks for themselves. It also helps that a lot of the clientele she's garnered wouldn't dare speak out against her even if they wanted. Is it all completely ethical? Probably not. Does she care? Not one bit. ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬   𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬 ⌜ α м в ι т ι σ и ѕ ⌟ ☁ Hera's soul to be tormented without end within the depths of Tartarus while her head sits on a pike at the foot of seat would be a nice start... ⌜ f є α я ѕ ⌟ ☁ Losing her family for good. To be unable to reconnect, or connect in general, with her family. Specifically Macaria. She owes a lot to her little sister. To be and remain lost for all eternity.

Tlazōlteōtl | Goddess of Filth

ｅａｔｅｒ ｏｆ ｓｉｎ
_{d e i t y of d i r t 
d e i t y of d i r t}

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	raven lyn corneil | #00CC99 ████████████████████████ 𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊   𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 ⌜ 𝐄 𝐏 𝐈 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐓 ⌟ Tlazōlteōtl ⌜ Laz ⌟ ⌜ 𝐃 𝐎 𝐌 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍 ⌟ Goddess of Filth ⌜ 𝐏 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Huaxtec - Aztec ♁

𝐃 𝐈 𝐕 𝐈 𝐍 𝐄 ♁ 𝐏 𝐎 𝐖 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒
_{^{𝓭𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓭𝓮𝓫𝓪𝓾𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻𝔂}}

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𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

_{\ tem(p)-ˈtā-shən \}

Sin.
In it's most basic form, a transgression against all things holy and good. An action that is or is felt to be highly reprehensible. A vitiated state of human nature. A natural part of life. One of the few things that mortals and Gods alike can agree they share. It's only right that a sin eater would be able to sense out the presence of sins of her beloved worshipers. Gaining a detailed understanding of the vice — turning their lust and misdeeds, lascivious thoughts into memorable, obtainable and oft times tangible experiences.

The devil on your shoulder never looked so... tempting~

Tlazōlteōtl is able to sense and manipulate the sins and vices of others; increasing the emotional need to a more... physical level. Thus gaining further knowledge from the "victim" for her to do with as she sees fit. Should it benefit her... Being able to tip someone over the edge into the embrace of sin gives her a rush of adrenaline. Convincing them that their even their lowest, most base form is nothing to turn away from but rather embrace brings her a sense of comfort. A comfort she hadn't realized she missed when the Fall initially took place.

After all, succumbing to desire and sin are something even the mightiest of Gods are guilty of...

𝐈 𝐍 𝐍 𝐄 𝐑 ♁ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐋 𝐅
_{^{𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓹𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓽 𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Ambitious & Confident Vivacious & Charismatic Gregarious & Magnetic ⌟	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Amoral & Unapologetic Self Indulgent & Voracious Capricious & Vulnerable ⌟

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	████████████████████████ т н є м σ я т α ℓ   т н є м σ я т α ℓ ⌜ 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐀 𝐒 ⌟ Tlalli ⌜ Lalli ⌟ Teotl ⌜ 𝐑 𝐄 𝐂 𝐎 𝐑 𝐃 𝐄 𝐃 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 ⌟ Twenty Seven - Thirty ⌜ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐗 𝐔 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 & 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍 𝐃 𝐄 𝐑 ⌟ Pansexual She / Her ⌜ 𝐎 𝐂 𝐂 𝐔 𝐏 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ ✦ Founder & CEO of Illicit ✦ CEO & Owner of The Jade Jaguar

𝐋 𝐈 𝐅 𝐄 ♁ 𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐘
_{^{𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓮, 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓼}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲   𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲 ⌜ 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 𝕷 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 ⌟ ♁ ⌜ "I AM EVIL. I AM THE FILTH GODDESS TLAZOLTÉOTL. I AM THE SWALLOWER OF SINS. THE LUST GODDESS WITHOUT GUILT. The delicious debauchery. You bring out the primordial exquisiteness in me. The nasty obsession in me. The corporal and venial sin in me. The original transgression in me." ⌟ Mercy is sought out by the weak. The cowardice it holds over mortals is powerful. Too powerful. Yet, the taste is a delicacy. Being able to forgive the sins - the unholiness of mortals - and take that sin upon herself was something Tlazōlteōtl looked forward to. 'What sort of sins to cleanse today?' It was like a surprise gift given to her, all wrapped up in an unassuming package. Though, she could only purify those who beseech her once, and only once, in their life. Tlazōlteōtl was highly sought after among the masses. Inspiring both tame and vicious desires among her people. New and exciting sins cropping up like the new year's harvest was a game for her. One she was winning at. A delicious cycle it was. To encourage and entice into debaucherous deeds and then on the reverse help cleanse those same sins. Mortals would flock to her, seeking pleasure, basking in their sinful desires before the glory of battle. So wrapped up in their own misdeeds that they wouldn't ever think twice about consequences. And then the morning after, before taking off to war they would seek her forgiveness; steam baths were preferable - maybe it was the scalding waters that made them feel as if their deeds were being removed? The elderly were typically the ones who would seek out counsel of her priests, praying for her to bless and purify them. The inexperienced, the ill-informed, naive bunch, who had no knowledge before hand would turn around the next morning - rushing to speak with a priest of the Goddess of Filth, begging for a cleansing of their misdeeds. Poor things don't realize she only grants total absolution only once... 'Best make it count~' All of which she would bestow. A whispered promise to see them again when they returned. They always returned. Just as easily as she could be enjoyed and her sin encouraged and celebrated, she was still a Goddess who would afflict those around her with diseases should they ever indulge themselves in things they shouldn't. Things few and far between, but there nonetheless. A lonely life. To be surrounded and sought after daily but having nothing to truly return to. There was Piltzintecuhtli, a union not entirely holy and spoken of with much adoration. Barely a union at all besides the one night. But that's all it took for Centeōtl to be born into the world. Her life was changed all for the better. Tlazōlteōtl was a mother to her own, someone to love her unconditionally and for her to feel the same. He became one of the most important deities to their people and a proud mother she was. At a cost. He was sacrificed in order to bring plants to the mortals. Her sweet baby boy, so full of joy and life, cut down in his prime all for the sake of mortals. But because of who he was, Centeōtl went without struggle and without hesitancy; though it was clear to his mother how fearful he truly was. Quetzalcóatl ordered it, so it was. Tlazōlteōtl would never forget this transgression, nor would she ever forgive. Eons, it felt, went by without her child in her arms. Catering to the sins and desires and whims of the mortals who benefited from her son's murder. She took delight in punishing those who deserved it, making it more unnecessary than truly need be. They needed to pay for their part in it all. Tlazōlteōtl thoroughly enjoys increasing the unholy nature of those she comes in contact with, it makes time pass by more bearably. A life so intimately solitary, only called upon when the need arises coupled with the loss of her only child has made the Deity of Dirt skeptical and uneasy to true intentions. Though she is always hopeful she will find the, ever cliche, "one". A lonely life to only be sought after, used and then forgotten. Until the next time. ██████████████████████ 𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲   𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲 ⌜ м σ я т α ℓ ℓ ι f є ⌟ ♁ When she fell, she fell hard yet willingly. Tlazōlteōtl didn't fight the feeling, instead simply embracing it. She knew it most certainly meant her demise, her death, but she didn't mind. Not really. The thought of being reunited with her son brought a spark of hope to her in a dark, dark time. However, when she awoke - she isn't sure how long after - she was distraught on a much different level than the other immortals surrounding her. After a time, witnessing everyone come and go, trying to find their way in this new home of theirs, she steeled herself to make a change. Centeōtl would not wish this for her. He took to his fate as dutifully as he could, better even given the age, and yet here she was throwing herself a pity party. No more. Tlazōlteōtl pushed through the darkness, emerging much more than her former shell. Charisma and sex oozed from her with every new step she took and the goddess never looked back. As the years went on, Tlazōlteōtl found that she couldn't have been more elated than she was, to be dwelling among those that worshiped the ground upon which she walked. Basking in the lust and unwavering adoration for and to her, their Goddess of Purification and Sin. It hit differently, now that she was physically here, a higher being among mortals. Taking on the same skin as them, flesh of the Earth. Bound to everything the world has to offer and in such a permanent way. It brought about the same highs as before - maybe even stronger, given her mortal-like state. Though with all the lust and desires that come crawling to her, she is without true companionship and love. There have been some to catch her attention, pull at her heart strings, make her believe that this time it's real. Only to be reminded of the cruel truth of what it means to be human. Instead, still there lies a void located within her chest. The tendrils of desperate loneliness strangle her soul, squeezing until it's too difficult to breathe. Time heals all wounds is a farce. But it does allow for new sins to take root and crop up. And Tlazōlteōtl couldn't grow bored with the buffet set before her. It didn't help that her most devoted were soon wiped from the face of the soil she now called home and her wrath plagued the area of which they used to reside. It's been awhile since and though her anger is far from smothered, she is at least bolstering it to mingle with the mortals that still milled about the earth. Sin isn't going away soon and neither is she. She's resided herself to the notion that she may never be more than anything but a sin eater and though it is far from what she desires, she has learned to push past it. To a degree. For now, she does what she does best; having created an escort service, as well as a strip club, bringing out the filth of those around her and take their guilt and applying a more favorable purification on their aching souls. If anything, Tlazōlteōtl is getting her fill, and business is booming. ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬   𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬 ⌜ α м в ι т ι σ и ѕ ⌟ ♁ To be loved. Actually, truly loved. Never having to worry of being used and tossed aside as she has been for the last so many years. Love for the sake of love and not for anything else. ⌜ f є α я ѕ ⌟ ♁ Trapped in an endless cycle of loneliness. She fears that the ones she is closest too are using her for her talents and gifts and therefore keeps most everyone at an arms length. Never truly trusting her feelings and the intentions of others.

Odin | the Allfather

ｔｈｅ ａｌｌ ｆａｔｈｅｒ
_{Ó ð i n n
Ó ð i n n}

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	Travis Fimmel | #536878 ████████████████████████ 𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊   𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 ⌜ 𝐄 𝐏 𝐈 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐓 ⌟ Odin ⌜ Alföðr ⌟ ⌜ 𝐃 𝐎 𝐌 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍 ⌟ Allfather ⌜ wisdom, war, etc. ⌟ ⌜ 𝐏 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Norse Pantheon ◈

𝐃 𝐈 𝐕 𝐈 𝐍 𝐄 ◈ 𝐏 𝐎 𝐖 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒
_{^{Enn skal lytte, når en gammel hund gjø}}

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𝐀 𝐌 𝐀 𝐑 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐇 𝐈 𝐍 𝐄
𝐀 𝐌 𝐀 𝐑 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐇 𝐈 𝐍 𝐄

_{\a-mə-ˈran(t)-thən\}

^{Whatever source of information that has been presented to the Allfather he is able to recall and utilize. His access to knowledge of anything he's read/seen/heard is unlimited. Which he can then use to his own benefit and gain in this life amongst mortals. Eidetic memory on steroids.}

𝐈 𝐍 𝐍 𝐄 𝐑 ◈ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐋 𝐅
_{^{Tíðin rennur sum streymur í á}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Observant & Adroit Courageous & Voracious Ambitious & Poetic ⌟	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Stoic & Tenacious Ruthless & Condescending Manipulative & Relentless ⌟

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	████████████████████████ т н є м σ я т α ℓ   т н є м σ я т α ℓ ⌜ 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐀 𝐒 ⌟ Øyvind ⌜ Vind ⌟ Börson ⌜ 𝐑 𝐄 𝐂 𝐎 𝐑 𝐃 𝐄 𝐃 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 ⌟ Forty - Nine ⌜ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐗 𝐔 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 & 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍 𝐃 𝐄 𝐑 ⌟ Bisexual He / Him ⌜ 𝐎 𝐂 𝐂 𝐔 𝐏 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ CEO & Founder Runic Publishing House CEO & Founder Wōden CEO ⌜ & Founder ⌟ Saga Antiquities

𝐋 𝐈 𝐅 𝐄 ◈ 𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐘
_{^{Gammel kjærleik rustar ikkje}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲   𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲 ⌜ 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 𝕷 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 ⌟ ◈ In most texts, Odin was depicted as a long-bearded, one-eyed man wearing a broad hat and a cloak, wielding his spear, Gungnir. Something that never failed to make the Allfather smile in mirth upon listening as he sat among the midgardians. However, if he ever did make his face appear to the mortals, and wanted them to knowit was him, Odin made sure to appear as they thought he looked. In his never ending quest to obtain wisdom and knowledge, he sought out Mimir, an extremely wise god in his own right. Mimir possessed the well Mímisbrunnrl; beneath one of three roots of Yggdrasil, said that the waters contained substantial wisdom and knowledge, and if someone drank from the well they would also gain wisdom. Though, Mimir required that whosoever shall drink from the well sacrifice one of their eyes. Odin agreed. A small price to pay for the pursuit of understanding. Not too terribly long after was Mimir giving counsel to another Aesir god; cheating out the Vanir, was seized and beheaded and then his head sent to Asgard. Upon receiving, Odin took the head, embalmed it with herbs so that it would not rot, and spoke charms over it, which gave it the power to speak to him and reveal to him secrets. He planned on keeping his counsel wherever he went. Anything to have a leg up on information on the other worlds. Ruling from his throne Hlidskjalf, he was able to observe all that happens in the nine realms. Accompanied by the wolves Freki and Geri, to whom he gives his food for he himself consumes nothing but wine, the ravens Huginn and Muninn, who bring him information from all over Midgard, eyes ablaze like a frozen lake with a fire burning bright beneath it's sheet, Odin ruled over Asgard with an iron fist clad in gold. Though his intentions were noble in all but results. His pursuit of knowledge and wisdom,His intentions were noble, but misguided, and he genuinely wanted what was best for his people and the realms as he sought to prevent Ragnarök (an event that would go on to kill myriads of innocent people including the Aesir and the Vanir) from happening. Centuries of reigning undisputed with unlimited power as well as a lifetime of failed trials however, had gradually hardened him to the point where he was unable, or perhaps, unwilling to accept that his actions and the actions of his fellow Aesir was having a negative effect and was in fact leading them all ironically into causing the very disaster that he was trying so long to avoid. ██████████████████████ 𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲   𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲 ⌜ м σ я т α ℓ ℓ ι f є ⌟ ◈ After the Fall Odin was gifted a plethora of free time. Meant to be spent however he saw fit. Coming to was something of a blindside for the Allfather... something the knowledge seeker did not appreciate. All the knowledge and wisdom and understanding and he was caught unprepared. He first feared that it was a path of Ragnarök that he had misinterpreted. That must have been it. It was the only logical explanation for this twisted turn of events. And so, Odin's paranoia grabbed a-hold of him tightly, plaguing his mind and the days turned years spent on Midgard among those who worshiped him. Soon the irrational fears of the end of days and all those involved slowly dispersed from his mind. Knowledge is what drove him around the world, amidst the paranoia driven actions. He became the moniker the midgardians bestowed upon him all those years ago; a traveler. The Traveler. Traversing the entire realm absorbing the teachings of the great minds and putting them to good use; one way or another. Scouring the globe for artifacts in the form of weapons, tomes, everyday mundane items. Anything to learn from, to feel closer to the godhood he once possessed. To use and wield the power, even if it was metaphorical. However, it wasn't enough for him. No. Odin craved the interaction among the others like him; other gods - he cared not for which pantheon they belonged to. He saw it as the ultimate cornucopia of insight. Who better to learn new things from than the gods who resided over their own ilk? He was successful in his endeavors and took his learnings and turned it into an empire with which he could live off of. A kingdom among men. An empire built on the collection of secrets and backroom dealings and pouring himself over tomes, scrolls, textbooks, running this body of his ragged just for the mere taste. It all became worth it, when he started up not only a publishing company, but a networking and of course one that dealt in antiquities one as well. From there Odin's empire only grew, over the years he was able to establish and shadow run other businesses; effectively making the Börson a name known 'round the globe for having their fingers in a number of different pies. Now, however, you can find Øyvind Börson living it up in "retirement". Though he uses that term loosely. There is always someone somewhere that insists on pestering the Allfather with trivial matters. All of which he is expected to be responsible for and deal with. He will of course because honestly he detests idle hands. Odin is still a seeker of knowledge and a lot of the times can be found sitting in the back of university classes, absorbing the lessons spouted by midgardians in less than enthusiastic tones, stuck in his own private museum pouring over ancient texts or tending to some other piece of equipment. There's even a high chance of catching him dancing around his penthouse a la Tom Cruise in 'Risky Business'. What does he care? He's retired... he shouldn't be bothered for 'nothing but a good time. ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬   𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬 ⌜ α м в ι т ι σ и ѕ ⌟ ◈ To seek out all the knowledge the world has to offer. To obtain to unobtainable. Collect as many artifacts from the different pantheons and learn from them. To be able to prevent such a disaster as the Fall from ever taking root within the Nine Realms and lording it over the different pantheons and the immortals that reside within them. ⌜ f є α я ѕ ⌟ ◈ The end of days. Ragnarök. It's not so much a fear as it was when he first learned of the inevitability. However, a millennia or so has passed and though it isn't as prevalent within the forefront of Odin's mind, it is still there. He fears that, upon looking at his fellow counterparts of the opposite pantheons, he will, or rather has, become a lot like them in their relationships with their children. The absentee, the neglectful, the bane of their existence. He doesn't like these feelings and has been trying to rectify it all. In his own way.

𝘿𝙀𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 ⌜ᴀ ɢᴏᴅ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ⌟

yesss babyyyyy

Descension {A God RP}

#letsfkngooooooo

Palm Beach Royals: Class Reunion (Shelved)

_{𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. poolside
𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝. soundin' extra extra extra lame
𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐝. ♤ ♤ ♤
𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. Yasmin | "bad bitch club"
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. Benji | Vann}

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A ding from his phone pulled the Korean artist from whatever mental vacation he was at as he rode the elevator to the top of the hotel. _{'Emphasis on crime for sure,'} Jin couldn't help the slight upturn of his lips at the idea of getting a chance to catch up with the crew. Starting trouble, or just throwing gasoline on the dumpster fire that would surely be this reunion, was something he was so looking forward to.

It didn't take long before he was strolling into the pool scene, decked out in his suit jacket and snap back. Feeling a little under dressed was not something he concerned himself with. Their gracious host should just be content that he, and a lot of the others who were bound to show up, weren't going to be sporting the same wear they did on the regular back in high school. _{'Oh the look on her face if they had...'} He kinda wish he did, now that the thought got him giggling to himself like a schoolgirl with a crush.

The party wasn't in full swing just yet but there was still time. No telling how much of a shit show it was going to be once Savanna got into her groove. It had been a number of years and the two of them still refused to acknowledge that the other wasn't terrible in bed. God forbid he admit that to her. It was clear that nothing was going to come from it and he was all the more happy about it. Doesn't mean that they still don't razz on one another from time to time. Especially since Vann is up in New York visiting with Yasmin a lot. Something to do with her clothing line or other. The Korean typically sticks to what he knows and women's fashion isn't it. He just knows that he likes the way it looks on his bedroom floor. If the Saint herself isn't going to be there causing a scene then all hell will break loose if the "bad bitch club" catch wind of some kind of drama. Whether it be new or rehashed from ten years ago. Jin just sighed, shaking his head but grinning wildly nonetheless. It was going to be an interesting few days to say the least.

Scanning the faces and backs of people's heads in the meantime, Jin was searching for his "partner in crime", making a pit stop at the bar first, "Dude asks for me and then fuckin' Houdini's me? Typical..." his jesting mutterings must have incurred the blessings of some deity above, because as he was turning from the bartender he noticed an all too familiar cap, bobbing and weaving it's way past people and tables alike, only to stop behind yet another familiar, albeit curvaceous, figure.

"Well, fuck me right?" He threw back his glass, emptying it in one go before sliding it across the bar top. Readjusting his jacket and hat he began his saunter towards the two that were bound to have something interesting going on. "Here we go."

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Palm Beach Royals: Class Reunion (Shelved)

_{𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. poolside
𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝. party now, rehab later
𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐝. ✟ ✟ ✟
𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. Yas | Max
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. Benji}

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Once gone from the warmth atmosphere of the bar lounge and Max' sinful gaze, Savanna found herself meandering through the hotel, phone in hand - tequila shot long since drained and abandoned - trying to get a hold of her other other half. Her third? Her Yas.

Eventually, seeing as the designer wasn't answering her door, which Vann spent an exorbitant amount of time bashing on, spilling out just about every loving expletive she could at the solid piece of wood; and being yelled at from a neighboring guest, she turned on her heel and proceeded to the upper floors where the "main event" was to be held.

It wasn't long after she arrived that she swung by to grab herself another drink, a Paloma this time - extra strong - before weaving between fellow alumnus gathered. There were a number of people already there, some she hadn't seen since graduation while others she had kept brief contact with. It was them she made a mental note to stop by and say a few cliche words to. Not a party around that Savanna Santos didn't feel the need to go to. If not for the company, absolutely for the drinks. And cause a little mischief while she's at it. The people that she found herself surrounded by made it too easy in high school. She found herself wondering if they still had the same buttons she could push...

Caught up in her own mindless indulgence, sipping on her drink, she felt a pair of eyes honing in on her. Falling prey to some kind of predator. A feeling she enjoyed when in the comfort of a bed, not so much when out in the open as this. A firm placement to her lower back and it was gone. Once Benji spoke to her she wished he hadn't pulled away so quickly and Vann found herself leaning back into him; searching for more.

Without looking she smirked into her drink, shifting her weight to the other leg, purposefully brushing her ass against him. "Molly's a popular girl, hard to get in touch with but I hear you have that magic touch." How Vann wishes she could just stay in his zone of comfort. A dirty, messy, toxic zone - but one of familiarity and comfort nonetheless. Spinning in place she was able to come face to face with the handsome boy man from the west coast. It hadn't been long since their last meet up; she was in town a few months ago just traveling and decided to swing by. What should have been a normal half day visit turned into a much longer stay. One filled with narcotics, dancing and of course filthy sex. All in all a fantastic vacation.

Vann wondered how their interactions would go in front of their fellow graduates. Would anything be different? In a good way? Now that they were here, for this reunion, face to face she found herself not giving a flying fuck. All she could do was stare up into hazel eyes, gaze drifting all across his face from the snake bites on his lips to his goofy trademarked cap, she couldn't get enough of him. "Suit and jeans?" Vann couldn't help but rake her eyes across his features, scanning his body as she did so, free hand coming around to the back of his neck and scratching lightly at the base, "Not really your style, Benj. Too much fabric~" Her mission to find Yas a failure; but the night was still so very young. Vann had time to kill and company to keep.