Feb 25, 2019
Yo so how much of my soul would I have to sell you for a drawing of overworked caustic with his nerdy coffee mug? (Your art is amazing btw)
i love the god damn nerd cups
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Yo so how much of my soul would I have to sell you for a drawing of overworked caustic with his nerdy coffee mug? (Your art is amazing btw)
i love the god damn nerd cups
Abaven (👈) and Alcander (👉) from The Protector Thank you @deathlybetrayal-vt 👏
Hey, Ian. Have you met your region's councilor, Dmitri? His attitude seems a bit prickly.
IAN: “I’ll vote for him when his platform includes whatever rejuvenation science Euclid had.”
EUCLID: “Uh, Ian…?”
IAN: “I want to look young again!”
The Love Potion Incident - The Signal
In front of the Oracle stood the Lazuli Gateway; tall, imposing, unyielding, mysterious, unaffected by the wintry weather.
Those who cross it from the Original World will always return to the capital of the Realm, but those who cross it from the capital may choose their destination. Gods found it more convenient that way, to spare them what could've been days or weeks of traveling back to the Gateway after finishing their business.
And they wouldn't have to worry about straying too far and losing sight of the Portal; those who carried an enchanted lapis lazuli stone could summon the Portal anywhere and return home, and such item was mostly reserved for important Deities such as the Nineteen...
Of course Abaven lend his own to Oracle shortly before they left the workplace. It was an important task they were handling right then and there.
Oracle hesitated for a moment.
The Ashen Desert, a place not unfamiliar to them; that was where they were first found before living among Godkin. There were many reasons why they left, reasons which they never explained anyone. Things left unsaid, unspoken, untold, unfinished.
Shaking the thought off, the cloaked entity stepped forward into the Portal.
...
A few steps into the Mortal World, Oracle took the sight before them. The forsaken, long-fallen Sea of Shells, now known as the Ashen Desert.
Lukewarm grey sand beneath their feet, some sand mounts shifting with the whistling wind revealing obsidian-like rocks underneath, dead tree-like corals still standing on said rocks, a few colorful shells sticking out of the ground, and a dark mountain range appearing beyond the colorless fog and clouds.
Even in a place so void of life such as that, perhaps there were still some traces of beauty to be found.
Closing their eyes and taking a deep breath, they focused their power into sensing the signal Abaven had spoken about. Sensing the sands surrounding them, the rocks and shells and dead corals half-buried, farther and farther away until reaching the mountain coast-
There! Bismuthean Town!
Snapping back to their senses Oracle shook their head, a mild headache forming in the process. Nothing that they couldn't handle, naturally; they haven't used that specific power in a while for good reason. They turned to look west - the direction where the town was - and off they went, holding tight onto the stone.
...
Outsiders would find it hard to believe that anyone would live in the Ashen Desert, let alone visit it. They'd be surprised should they ever visit Bismuthean Town. All houses were sculpted from stone, each decorated with bismuth patterns - hence the origin of the name - and many ladders and stairs built to reach the higher buildings.
The people that lived there were... Interestingly mysterious. Known as Mask-Cinzyrs, all of them wore robes head to toe, using nearly-identical masks to hide their faces and barely ever spoke. Now then, it'd been long confirmed they were humans, but why hide themselves away...?
Even Oracle couldn't answer that question, as they too indirectly inherited this trait.
As the entity approached, one of the masked people spotted them, wearing a simple moss-green robe and a faded blue cloak upon their shoulders, sitting on a couple stairs in front of what seemingly was their home.
"... Ah, a wanderer? We haven't seen many visiting our town in forever..." The Mask-Cinzyr - by the voice, a middle-aged person - spoke calmly. "Although we do not have much, we share what little we have with each other. Do you need a place to stay?"
"There is no need, though I appreciate the offer. I cannot stay long, as I'm currently on a mission." Oracle responded in a rather flat tone, though the Cinzyr didn't seem to mind.
"I understand... This mission of yours seems very important, so I won't pry into such matters. Perhaps I could at least offer you any help I can?"
"Has anything strange happened in this town recently? I couldn't help but sense something strange in the air."
"... Ah, I'm afraid I do not know much. I rarely ever leave my home, you see." Oracle's shoulders dropped upon hearing this. "However, I did hear rumors from my neighbors." Lifting a gloved hand from under their robe, the Cinzyr motioned Oracle to come a little closer and they reluctantly obliged.
"See, someone spotted one of the youths behaving strange lately. All of a sudden, there was a little lady found rambling about passion and acting as if in love with someone."
"What about it?"
"Well, that lady was known by all to not like such talks of passion and romance, so that brings concern. I heard other people started acting the same way too, on top of looking tormented and sputtering nonsense... This could be bad..." Oracle stood silent for a short while, then proceeded to ask:
"Is there anything else that happened?"
"Hm, outside of me having found a strange bottle beneath my windowsill, nothing else happened." That detail caught Oracle's attention.
"A strange bottle? May I see it?"
"Ah, yes yes. Give me a moment, please." The Mask-Cinzyr slowly stood up - their cloak slightly shifting to reveal a prosthetic right leg - and they went inside the house. Not a half-minute passed and they came back out with a little cloth bag in hands, then handed it over to Oracle who took it. It had a significant weight to it, with the muffled sound of liquid moving inside a glass container.
"I kept it in there so the weather wouldn't spoil whatever’s inside, though I didn't drink from it. I've never seen anything like this before..." the Cinzyr shook their head slowly.
"Nor have I." Oracle said, then added: "... May I keep this?"
"Oh, you may, yes. Honestly I see no need for me to carry it around. Perhaps it could help you in your mission."
"What about the young lady?"
"Hm... Nobody knows what to do. Well, we can only pray the Gods will help her now..."
"I see... Thank you for your help." Oracle nodded once to the Cinzyr, who returned the nod and started fiddling with their cloak for a bit. The entity then turned to leave. "I shall be on my way then. May Fate guide your path."
As they started to leave, they heard the Cinzyr sigh heavily and say something under their breath.
"Oh wanderer... Fate has long since abandoned our people..."
Without any words left to say, Oracle activated their stone and silently disappeared in faint blue light. When the Mask-Cinzyr looked back up, the cloaked entity was already gone.
"... But perhaps the Gods haven't forsaken us..."
...
Early afternoon, a gentle snowfall happening just outside the temples, and the Wiseman pacing back and forth in his office with a half-eaten bowl of food on his table. Tzidkiya had left it for him before Abaven arrived despite him not being particularly hungry.
Ah well, it wouldn't be nice to leave a well-made Boulder-Bark Potato salad go to waste just like that, so the Medicine God found himself eating at least half of the thing.
Knock-knock-knock
Someone at the door?
"Hm, come in." And a person in a purple cloak entered, closing the door behind. "Ah, it's you. Did you find anything of importance, Oracle?"
"Back in the Bismuthean Town, a Mask-Cinzyr claims one of their own has been behaving strangely. Apparently acting as if in love with someone and the like, nobody knows what the cause is. Some more have been acting the same way, if not worse."
"Really now? They send a signal and can't even elaborate on what was the cause?!" Abaven rolled his eyes, clearly done with this mess.
"That's not all, sir." He tilted his head upon their remark. "That Cinzyr also said they found this beneath their windowsill. I sensed something strange from it." They then showed a strange cloth bag they've been carrying and put it on top of his table with a muffled clank.
Upon opening, was a glass bottle with a strange bright pink liquid inside. The energy in the room seemed to have changed instantly.
The bottle in front of him wasn't one too fancy, nor was it too ordinary-looking. Merely one designed to be akin to those bottles you'd find in any perfumery; Abaven loosened the glass cap, just barely in order to inspect it. Soon enough a faint sweet smell was surrounding the room he and Oracle were in.
Indeed, a faint yet very sweet scent, but not sweet like the gentle fragrance of a flower bouquet, or the comforting smell of freshly baked pastries. It was thick and intoxicating, alluring...
In a hurry Oracle grabbed the recipient and tightened the cap before putting it back on the table rather aggressively, startling Abaven. Their hands were trembling. They looked... Breathless. Unnerved. In the verge of panicking.
"What did you see?!"
"... Hands. Many of them. Hundreds of eyes." They paused each time to take breaths. Their golden-yellow eyes briefly flaring and shifting colors rapidly. That wasn't good sign...
"That's what I thought." He grabbed the nearest chair and made the entity sit down, then went to grab something. "Stay put for a while and breathe. After you've recovered, I need you to go fetch the rest of the Nineteen and bring them to my workplace."
"All of them?"
"All of them. This is an emergency." He said as he found a cup near the drinking fountain beside his workplace, and filled it with water.
"Wouldn't that be inconvenient for some of them? What if they-"
"This. Is. An emergency." He firmly responded, handing the cup to Oracle, and they hesitantly took it. "The thing you brought here is a "Love Potion". A thing that should have never been created."
Oracle slightly tilted their head as they drank.
"We must make sure this little poison doesn't reach the rest of the Mortal World, because if it does, many lives could be destroyed." He spared a glance to the glass bottle, its faint pink glow now seeming so... Suffocating. "We have to make sure that whoever created this is properly punished for their crimes."
"... I understand." The entity finished drinking and put the cup down.
If that was an emergency, then they had to act quick. The Feast of Winter Lights could wait.
...
______________________________
First: (The Oracle’s Prologue - here)
Previous: (The Wiseman’s Prologue - here)
Next: (Interlude: In The Meantime...)
A little bit late, but here’s my contribution to Father’s Day XD
Abaven in "Constant Rambling"
Have a rambly Abaven too XD
✘ Have they ever committed a murder? ϟ Have they ever gotten pleasure from causing others pain? - for Tahira
About Tahira… She’s never committed murder, but that’s not to say she never killed, if only to save somebody.
She was just 600 years old when she and Abaven (800 at the time) were visiting the Original World for a bit, and then they were ambushed by three Nether Beasts.
They started to run away, when one went and attacked Abaven’s arm, breaking it in the process as the beast bit into it. In the heat of the moment, the God quickly took his blade and cut off his own arm in an attempt to break free.
With Abaven now weakened, Tahira had no choice but to fight these beasts alone, and so she did.
When everything was said and done, the Goddess was staring at the beasts’ mangled corpses. She felt no pleasure in having done that, it was necessary for their survival after all.
On the other hand, she felt absolutely nothing towards them either.
It’s a memory Tahira would prefer not to talk about.
A piece I made for the holidays, featuring my gods OCs... That was a lot to sketch. But was really fun too! So... Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you guys!