Scarescrow — Roleplayer Guild

Level 1 God of End (Forgotten)

Location: some desert 
 How rude  Sebna thinks as it flies across the night sky. There weren’t any stars to shine its path nor the purple clouds of future rains, just the wind rushing from one specific direction. For some reasons, it seems like the goddess, called Mater Lei, was displeased by Sebna’s action.  Well, I hope she does know I say fuck her  the little mist thinks as it flies across the barren world. For some reason, the Goddess may have fling it too strong as there weren’t any trees nor grass that grew here, and the ground is light and poor.  Maybe I should create something,  the mist stares blankly at the barren land that it was given. Letting the sand to fly over its body harmlessly, the mist begins to think what to create. Unlike others, who have some sense of what to develop with their power, Sebna has no idea in the field of creation. Its power was more into ending others life, rather than creating one. But nonetheless, there is a certain charm in creating something new. 

But what should I create, Sebna thinks as it rolled its misty body over the ground, letting the sand to pass its unrealistic body. And it could think of any good idea. But meah, it would do it anyway. 

Letting its misty fingers to bury deep in the ground, the mist said in its gleeful voice with a hint of excitement. “Rise, the plant.” And from where she said, plants rise. It has a violet color and a small figurine, the size of a man’s thumb. But one thing for certain, there are many of them. Their roots buried deep into the ground, taking every precious resource and helping them to withstand the fierce wind. It leaves are as sharp as needles, protecting it from the day and night difference. Its life is brief, much shorter than other plant’s life had been compensating by its impressive growth. If it took others months to grow and reach adulthood, this would only require weeks if not days if the environment is pleasant enough. And it would taste bitter, almost gut cutting, when consumed. But no matter what, it shall be the mother of all foods. 

And when a producer had been invented, there came a need for a consumer to consume it. Letting its head to rest on the bed made of purple grass, Sebna touched the nearest grass which stands out from its cousin. Unlike others with the dominated purple, this was green and has large leaves. Its roots were shallow, easily getting uprooted by the harsh and ferocious wind. “And you”, Sebna said as its misty hand recreated the plant’s shape. “For you had stood out from your brother and sister. You shall feast on their corpses and other corpses.” Its hand, now legs, move tenderly between the insect’s wing and its hind leg. “You shall bite with the strength of a thousand armies collide. You shall fly with such speed that paints the day into night. And you shall travel with your brother, for you are weak and a delicate being that needs tending.” And from its hand, a dark needle-like created was created. Its delicate wings reflect the stars above its head. Its jaw, able to deliver an excruciating pain to the receiver, is both good at grinding and cutting of both flesh and plant-like. Its hind legs were sturdy, able to deliver a strong kick in a brief moment. And like the first creation, this consumer life is short comparing to others of its kind had been overcome with its massive amount of eggs per laying and an insatiable hunger for more food. 

And just like how it was programmed, the small herd of locusts begins to terrorize the purple bed of grass. Their jaws are constantly working, creating a nagging sound. But that soon came to an end as they begin to lay eggs and die shortly after that. The sight of thousand and more insects laying on the ground, wiggling their legs for a short period of time before doing nothing. But Sebna was pleased by its creation. They did not stop chewing, creating this nagging sound even when they are dying. But everything needs an end, Sebna reminding itself before falling asleep on the messy bed made of purple grass. Surrounding her was these dead locusts and the eerie silence, strumming the symphony of destruction and renewal. 

Create the purple grass. The first eatable plant.
Create the locust. 
Might: 2 remained.
Act of creation: 2/2
Level 1 - Level 2
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