D I O N Y S U S

[rowan-sylvanfeast]

D I O N Y S U S . theater, wine, revelry, vegetation, the queer & the mad

Indie RP blog for DIONYSUS, as written by Rowan (30+, queer, white, they/them). Follows from @rowan-revelry

Bio under cut.

Rules * Memes * Open starters

1000+ y/o * He/Him * Pan * Hellenes coded

SPEAKS with an ever-shifting pitch that sets its flute after the shape he's currently in, with a lulling, soft baritone at its heart. SCENTED with wine, ivy and all things of lush greenery, mixed in with a heavy, animalistic musk. MOVES with languid, laid back authority that sometimes blooms into manic energy. SPOKEN OF as the patron of the stage, inebriation and clarity through divine madness. LOOKS different, depending on the day, the stars and the labyrinth of the morrow. But almost always with a complexion that dips towards olive and tan, eyes of a light brown hue that draw towards wine red and the physique of a well-fed acrobat. Muscular, but soft. Has a generous, plump mouth and thick, cow-like lashes framed by a strong jawline. The heavy, dark auburn locks can vary in length as can the presence or absence of a chest either flat or curved - but is rarely seen without some manner of phallus. When in mortal hiding he can be spotted because he favors panther or leopard hide, or a wreath of ivy and grapevines. Sometimes comes hoof footed and crowned with horns.

Free spirited * Never one to turn down a good time * Surprisingly patient * Merciless * Ruled by impulse and desire - and fate

CAN BE WRITTEN IN VERSES SUCH AS: The Divine Dionysus, the modern day reincarnation now down on luck and followers, the stranger in disguise who turns out to be a deity in a mortal shroud - and many more yet to be written

[rowan-sylvanfeast]

Dead calm.

A sweltering heat. An unforgiving sun on a merciless, blue sky. An ocean still as a mirror, flat tide, not a single movement.

Calmly appearing from underneath the water, walking up, not so much of the sea as he was a friend, carried forward. Dark curls dripping wet, nude save for the leopard's skin clinging, drenched, and hiding nothing. He looked almost a shipwrecked youth, not quite donning garlands and horns; out of his element, as he walked ashore - strong shoulders, soft hips, and curious, quick eyes.

Or he would have looked it, had he not been so well-fed, so gleaming, even seen from afar a little too Olympos-touched.

He paused, shaking out his hair, combing it back with both hands, and overlooking the island that seemed to have something in store for him. It appeared deserted. A long stretch of white sand and azure water. A forest tingling for his presence further in, but wilted from the heat, drooping in anticipation of the next rain shower.

Why was he here?

Dionysus was not the kind to question the tides and impulses that had him leaving or arriving. He followed the thread of life as he did everything else - at his own whim, trusting the dance macabre that steered his path. But often, he arrived at sites of revelry. Festivities. Or at least someone bent over their duties, in desperate need of a hand to shake them out of their scribe's clothes.

Yet here stood Naxos. Hot and still and in no need of wine or ecstasy. He sensed no stagnant dams waiting to be undone. Nor any whirling music calling out his name.

Why was he here?

He began to tread along the shore. The sun spilled gold onto the water's polished surface. He walked for a long while, growing sweaty, quietly enjoying the exertion, the mortal hide that stung as the sun bore down on his shoulder.

Finally, after he had rounded the lip of the island, he came upon some scraggly, pale cliffs - and there, finally, a silhouette. Dark hair whipping in the wind.

When he began to climb, he was even less remarkable. Bare footed but clad in a sweep of white linen, rather than fur and skin. Semi-decent, sash tied around his waist at a jaunty angle.

"It is not likely to change, no matter how long you stare at it," he spoke in way of greeting, face openly curious. "The tides are sleeping, and the ocean grows sleepy."

starter for @mysticcls

[rowan-sylvanfeast]

A grin split a mouth that always seemed on the verge of doing just that. Her haggard, starved confusion; the hard hand that latched onto his own, supple flesh that seemed to reek of excess next to that desperate grip. He cocked his head to the side, and studied her.

A scent of madness. Was this why he was here?

"Yes," he murmured. "And no." Her eyes burned like dull coal; it was a strange gaze. Those that balanced on death's edge, that felt the pull of the underworld, only burned this fiercely for it when they were meant for something great. When tragedy had befallen them, and they had not met it the way most men did - silently. Quietly.

No, this was the makings of something - something that tugged at the weave of Fate, made the strings sing. The trappings of a hero. Of a mortal meant for more.

"You will die soon," he almost comforted her, and began to sit. Gently, he took her under her arm, and urged her to sit. Resisted the wild impulse to lick at her bloodied palm.

His warm hand traced a soft caress down her back, offering her brief relief, a dull pleasure of the kind that came from lowering oneself into a hot bath after a cold, windy morning.

"But before you do, let us sit, and you will tell me your tale. Will you not? I will reward you with a swift drop from the cliffs, if you still wish for it, when the night creeps over the horizon."

[rowan-sylvanfeast]

Dead calm.

A sweltering heat. An unforgiving sun on a merciless, blue sky. An ocean still as a mirror, flat tide, not a single movement.

Calmly appearing from underneath the water, walking up, not so much of the sea as he was a friend, carried forward. Dark curls dripping wet, nude save for the leopard's skin clinging, drenched, and hiding nothing. He looked almost a shipwrecked youth, not quite donning garlands and horns; out of his element, as he walked ashore - strong shoulders, soft hips, and curious, quick eyes.

Or he would have looked it, had he not been so well-fed, so gleaming, even seen from afar a little too Olympos-touched.

He paused, shaking out his hair, combing it back with both hands, and overlooking the island that seemed to have something in store for him. It appeared deserted. A long stretch of white sand and azure water. A forest tingling for his presence further in, but wilted from the heat, drooping in anticipation of the next rain shower.

Why was he here?

Dionysus was not the kind to question the tides and impulses that had him leaving or arriving. He followed the thread of life as he did everything else - at his own whim, trusting the dance macabre that steered his path. But often, he arrived at sites of revelry. Festivities. Or at least someone bent over their duties, in desperate need of a hand to shake them out of their scribe's clothes.

Yet here stood Naxos. Hot and still and in no need of wine or ecstasy. He sensed no stagnant dams waiting to be undone. Nor any whirling music calling out his name.

Why was he here?

He began to tread along the shore. The sun spilled gold onto the water's polished surface. He walked for a long while, growing sweaty, quietly enjoying the exertion, the mortal hide that stung as the sun bore down on his shoulder.

Finally, after he had rounded the lip of the island, he came upon some scraggly, pale cliffs - and there, finally, a silhouette. Dark hair whipping in the wind.

When he began to climb, he was even less remarkable. Bare footed but clad in a sweep of white linen, rather than fur and skin. Semi-decent, sash tied around his waist at a jaunty angle.

"It is not likely to change, no matter how long you stare at it," he spoke in way of greeting, face openly curious. "The tides are sleeping, and the ocean grows sleepy."

starter for @mysticcls

[jacquelinebartholomew]

"I asked ChatGPT and—"

Well I called upon the Muses before a recitation of an ancient tale so they could imbue me with poetic inspiration and knowledge of history, and they said you're wrong

[ulises-aithon]

I called Pan bihorned and now I'm pacing around while the spirit of wine and madness has overtaken me in a ritualistic frenzy and the group has dictated: death by limb tornement

[coffeeandstrawberries]

Diana and Actaeon by Camille Corot, 1836

[rowan-sylvanfeast]

The Bacchanal was getting rowdy.

What had begun as a handful of young students trying to chase away boredom via cheap wine and a party among ruins, had begun to spin out of control. A boy kissing another boy, when aforementioned boy was engaged to one of the girls. Said girl balancing precariously atop a few wobbly stones, just on the brink of falling. A fourth person staring deeply into the bonfire, contemplating touching the flames, just to see if something could feel worse than the knowledge that they had flunked today's finals and they were going home to their awful parents for the summer.

Dionysus smiled, seated somewhere to the right of this scenery, one knee propped up and an arm resting atop it. His back to what remained of the castle, some ivy snaking down and just brushing against his shoulders, as if aching to become his cloak.

He was sated, tonight; but that did not make worship any less sweet. The little darlings might not know who they were praying to - but they didn't need to believe in him.

He believed in them.

After tonight, nothing would be the same. Lives would shatter - and then rebuild. What needed to get shaken loose, would get shaken. All he truly had to do was sit here, watch the stars twinkle, and listen to the music beginning to warble and sway.

Dionysus is listening to a party and making shit worse (better?). Feel free to improvise here; Y/M could be one of the party goers, could be a straggler, could be another deity walking in on his casual little corruption/blessing session. Assume connections if you want to. Open to mutuals and non-mutuals. 25+ players please.

[ddestroyangels]

Forest Nymph by Paul Hermann Wagner, 1870

Private Collection, Texas

[dionysianivy]

Dionysus Androgynos

Happy Trans Day everyone! May you all be blessed and feel comfortable in your own skin. Today we celebrate the joy and beauty of being ourselves 💜🏳️‍⚧️

[sylviaplathreincarnate]

[dionysianivy]

Dionysus Eleutherios

“The Liberator.” A surname of Dionysus, derived from Eleuther (eleútheros; freedom). This epithet is used for Dionysus as the one who liberates people through ecstatic rituals, wine, and dance. Freeing them from their everyday self, from fears, social constraints, toxic ties, and anything that keeps them stuck and unable to enjoy life. As Eleutherios, Dionysus unbinds what holds people back, removing constraints or limits, and gives them the freedom to feel, to celebrate, and to live fully.

[dionysianivy]

Dionysus Anthios

“The Flowering One”. An epithet especially used during the Anthesteria festival, honoring Dionysus as the Blooming God who brings the return of spring, awakens the fertility and restores nature back to life.

[thegodwhocums]

Bull-god, drunk god, god of women and transvestites, giver of ecstasy, master of dance, lord of the emotions—such were the various masks worn by the daimon whose lineage went back to ancient Minoan civilization. In his myths and rituals, Dionysos embodied both a feeling for the living continuities of nature and a concept of the human personality as an organism deeply rooted in the nonrational forces of the cosmos. Serving as the focus for the spiritual needs of Greece's underclasses, he became the god that the patriarchal establishment could neither accept nor eliminate. And so Dionysos represented the return of the repressed in several senses: return of the religious needs of the lower classes, return of the demands of the nonrational part of the self, and return of the Minoan feeling for the living unity of nature. And so in turn he threatened several repressors: the aristocracy of well-to-do male citizens, the domination of intellect over emotion, the alienated ethos of the city-state.

Arthur Evans, “The God of Ecstasy: Sex Roles and the Madness of Dionysos,” 1988

[rowan-sylvanfeast]

STARTER CALL FOR DIONYSUS. Please specify your muse. Open to mutuals and non-mutuals. All connections welcome.

[petalsprompts]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆; 𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙻𝚈 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚀𝚄𝙾𝚃𝙴𝚂.

change  pronouns,  tenses  and  other  details  as  deemed  necessary. &  please  specify  muse  when  sending  to  a  mumu.

“My  sweet  nemesis,  how  glad  I  am  that  you  returned.”

“We  caught  a  few  courtiers  speculating  about  assassinating  the  mortal  queen.”

“My  husband  was  murdered!  And  whether  or  not  you  believe  me,  I  do  mourn  him.”

“I  have  a  long  way  to  go  before  I  can  manage  your  level  of  shameless  arrogance.”

“A  king  is  not  his  throne  nor  his  crown.”

“Two  paths  are  before  me,  but  only  one  leads  to  victory.”

“Even  though  I  am  the  queen  in  exile,  I  am  still  the  queen.”

“He  will  be  the  destruction  of  the  crown  and  the  ruination  of  the  throne.”

“I  never  thought  love  was  a  game.  You  may  accuse  me  of  much,  but  not  that.”

“Perhaps  you  could  just  allow  yourself  to  be  rescued.  For  once.”

“Come,  let  us  charm  and  confound  our  subjects.”

“I  loved  you  and  despaired.  Before  I  die,  I  want  you  to  know  that.”

“If  I  can't  be  better  than  my  enemies,  then  I  will  become  worse.  Much,  much  worse.”

“Tonight  let  us  remember  our  triumph,  our  trickery,  and  our  delight  in  one  another.”

“I  suppose  I  am  not  an  easy  person  to  trust.  And  maybe  I  ought  not  to  be  trusted,  but  let  me  say  this:  I  trust  you.”

“I  didn't  understand  the  horror  of  being  so  powerful  and  so  utterly  powerless  all  at  the  same  time.”

“There  will  be  struggles  to  come,  I  am  certain,  but  right  now  I  am  equally  sure  we  will  find  our  way  through  them.”

“All  power  is  cursed.  The  most  terrible  among  us  will  do  anything  to  get  it,  and  those  who  would  wield  power  best  don’t  want  it  thrust  upon  them.”

“It's  ridiculous  the  way  everyone  acts  like  killing  a  king  is  going  to  make  someone  better  at  being  one.”

“You  want  to  free  him?  Let's  gut  him  instead.  Quicker  and  far  more  satisfying.”

“So  here  are  the  wages  for  your  service...  I  hope  betrayal  was  its  own  reward.”

“We  have  lived  in  our  armour  for  so  long,  you  and  I.  And  now  I  am  not  sure  if  either  of  us  knows  how  to  remove  it.”

“I  am  glad  to  have  you  march  under  my  banner,  glad  of  your  loyalty,  grateful  for  your  honour.”

“If  you  hurt  me,  I  wouldn't  cry,  I  would  hurt  you  back.”

“I  don't  want  to  die  fast.  I  don't  want  to  die  at  all.”

“If  it's  hard  for  you  to  bear  what  you  did,  give  me  the  weight.”

“I  think  they  suspected  my  chief  qualification  for  the  position  was  my  ability  to  lie  for  him.”

[mythshire]

⚔·˚ ༘ ⋆ 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒 & 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒 ⋆ ༘˚·⚔··· a collection of deadly bargains, court games, freedom & chains roleplay sentence starters. genre: fantasy, enemies to lovers, power struggles.

• You fight like someone who has nothing left to lose. • I didn't free you from that place so you could throw your life away. • The king wants you dead. I'm supposed to be the one to do it. • You're not a prisoner anymore, so why do you still act like one? • I've killed for less than what you just said to me. • You think these pretty clothes make me forget what I am? • I saw you training at dawn. Who taught you to move like that? • The competition starts tomorrow. Try not to die in the first trial. • You're one of the king's assassins. I'm supposed to fear you, not— • I know what you did to earn your freedom. Was it worth it? • You can't save everyone in this castle. Stop trying. • I found blood on your balcony. Whose was it? • The Prince wants to see you. And no, you can't say no. • You've got three kills to my one. Should I be impressed or concerned? • I didn't expect the world's most feared assassin to like books. • You're hiding something. I can always tell when you're lying. • The king's guards are asking questions. What did you do? • I heard you screaming last night. Nightmares again? • You bow to no one, do you? That's going to get you killed. • I'm not your enemy. Though I understand why you'd think otherwise. • You could run. Right now. I'd let you. • You're good with a blade, but you fight angry. That's a weakness. • The princess trusts you. I'm not sure that's wise. • I saw the scars. How long were you there? • You're different than the others. I can't figure out if that's dangerous. • The king's champion shouldn't be afraid of anything. So why do you flinch when he enters the room? • The court thinks you're just a pretty ornament. They have no idea. • I found the letters you've been hiding. Who are you writing to? • You saved my life in that trial. I won't forget it. • The rebellion needs someone like you. Someone ruthless. • You're the first person I've met who isn't afraid of what I can do. • You've been free for months now. When are you going to start acting like it? • I know the king's secret. And now so do you. • You could have anyone in this kingdom. Why do you keep choosing solitude? • The foreign dignitaries are here. Try not to kill any of them. • You're playing a dangerous game with the court. Do you even have a plan? • The captain of the guard is in love with you. You know that, right? • I didn't survive this long by trusting people. But I'm trying to trust you. • You fight like you're still in chains. You're not anymore. • The magical wards around the castle are failing. Something's coming. • You told me you were done killing. So whose body is that?