NAME: Mateo Ruiz
DEITY: Tlazolteotl
AGE: 33, August 29, 1990
GENDER & PRONOUNS: trans male, he/him/his
ORIENTATION: Homosexual
FACECLAIM: Diego Boneta
HOMETOWN: Tecate, Baja California - Mexico
ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral
Tidbits:
HUMAN PARENTS: Jorge Ruiz & Rosa Ruiz (step-mom)
DIETY LINAGE: Tlahzōlteōtl, Goddess of sexuality, vice, purification, steam baths, lust, filth, and a patroness of adulterers. Aztec Pantheon.
SIBLINGS: Esteban Ruiz, Elena Ruiz, Gabi Ruiz.
CLOTHING STYLE: Tends to wear a lot of sleeveless shirts along with beach shorts.
Mini-Bio || About:
This is a mess, I'll clean it up later.
In the Aztec calendar system, the days in the year are separated into two consecutive wheels of time. One of 13 day signs influence a month of twenty. Each month and day governed by a different duo of gods or goddesses depending on the corresponding day and month sign Tlazolteotl being one of these goddesses.
She governs the fifth day along with the twenty day cycle that starts on the day sign of Ollin.
Was it then by coincidence that Mateo was born on a day under her supposed protection?
Born in Tecate, Mexico. It seemed as though every other year would bring about constant hurricanes and earthquakes. His father being a head executive at an oil company allowed his family the availability to relocate away from one natural calamity before being met with another. It would also allow for Mateo to study in the United States, or whatever you're supposed to call having your ankles meet your ears for almost four years. His time in the states was cut short, being called back to shadow his father at the oil company's business meetings. Often times Mateo would be bored out of his mind, having to keep a rotating cast of office assistants to entertain him in between meetings. Heated whispers promising them a seat on his staff if he were allowed to sit on theirs.
. . .
Day Itzcuintli
Itzcuintli is a good day for funerals and wakes and remembering the dead. It is a good day for being trustworthy, a bad day for trusting others of questionable intent.
One of his favorites and company hopeful was Hector Suarez. He was a promising man around the same age as Mateo. A little older, and perhaps a little more cunning. Mateo often had a knack at spotting who amongst the white collar bramble were the opportunistic type. It took one to know one after all. Hector, however, seemed too play this to his advantage. While Mateo pulled him towards his bed, promising what they both knew he couldn't procure, Hector would pull him away from the secret meetings formed to oust his father from the company. Panes of glass fogged each night in a luxury car as the fog of deception closed in onto Jorge in a sudden and swift removal.
Mateo had woken up with the ground shifting under him, literally. It had seemed mother nature would join in striking down the family as well. The cliff where their manor had stood collapsed down into the polluted seas below.
He would wake up in a hospital bed, the only one recovered from the monstrous wreck. He had no home, he had no job waiting for him. He was alone. Only thing he had was his body and it was one he barely managed to hold on to.
August 27, 2023 - Day of the Call?
The thirteen day period (trecena) that starts with day 1-Ollin (Movement) is ruled by Tlazolteotl.
In Greek mythology, Moros /ˈmɔːrɒs/ (Ancient Greek: 'doom, fate') is the personified spirit of impending doom, who drives mortals to their deadly fate.
name: dev krishna rajput age: soon to be thirty-eight
parents: vedant rajput, human journalist & the greek god of fate and doom moros
education: graduated in economy & philosophy, mba in investment management
former place of residence: london, uk
transcript.
As Dev knew it his parents had met in a divided Germany, an assignment foolishly cooked up to keep his father from angering more people in both Britain and India with his writing. It did not work.
His father–the mortal one, that is, had always called out disaster before it struck. Call it foresight, or just reading the fucking signals. Whenever he went, whatever he wrote, disaster soon followed. They never did listen…That’s what attracted him. That’s how their love came to be.
Dev was not his father. Cursed with his foresight, blessed with visions of doom, he stopped talking when people would not listen. Should he be surprised by his godly parent, when he heeded the call? When he saw what was coming for him? The impeding doom that haunted him made real…
...
Unsettling. Weird. Head in the clouds. The gift left by the god of doom to a man haunted by the future who could do nothing to save himself or anyone else. Shadows that haunted Dev Krishna, child of fate, harbinger of doom, from day one… He grew up watching it all, death and misery, broken dreams, broken lives. Fate wasn’t cruel he thought–it was worse than that, fate didn’t care.
From Germany, to Palestine, to India. Wherever his father went there was doom, hanging like a veil of pain and misery in the faces of people Dev would never see again. His father was an idealist, his father wanted to save the world. Dev wondered if it wanted to be saved.
Haunted by dreams of ruin, it seemed like there was nothing capable of thriving under his hands. Was it following him, or was he the one causing it? Wherever they went, chaos followed, either by the hands of his journalist father or a disaster that happened to hit. Another death, another coup, another people starving. Each city, each country, nowhere was safe. No one was safe. Relationships fell apart as easily as broken promises, as easily as a panic attack, as all the possibilities of suffering–car accident on a monday, earthquake on a tuesday, heart attack on wednesday, drowning, crushed under a building, terrorist attack on… breathless, gasping for breath, watching them leave, watching them die. Nightmares… that followed. Warnings, never heeded, always resented, pain never avoided, advice never taken. Until he stopped talking, listening, dreaming. Wake up, drive, ignore it ignore it ignore it. Isolated, afraid but safe. Safe?
If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Get money, make yourself comfortable, easy to take the money from warning unheeded from his father and make it grow, watch the world burn knowing the flames will get you eventually, eventually, not now. Not yet anyway. Sometime, known it the whole time, didn’t he? Almost a relief when the calling comes, when the monsters are made real, when there is something to punch and kill. He gets an axe, easy to hold, easier to throw, gets a bow. He gets another father, one that was never there, one that–it seemed–had always been close in a way, almost like they kept chasing each other. One that is cruel, or uncaring, or too fucking busy, but one that gives him power now.
Is that enough? Will it save him? Can he save anyone, even himself? Well, he’s going to fucking try.
𝑴𝑬𝑬𝑻 𝑾𝑨𝑨𝑰𝒁 𝑺𝑨𝑳𝑬𝑴 ... a spider is a tricky thing. one minute you're walking on a clear path and the next you're upside down, trapped in their web. are you able to convince them to set you free or will you become another prey?
name : forest hwang. nicknames : n/a. date of birth : august 5th, 1995. place of birth : seoul, south korea. ethnicity : mixed. age : twenty-eight. gender : cis male. sexuality : homosexual. divine parent : amateratsu, goddess of the sun. education : masters degree. occupation : partner to a u.n. ambassador.
🏵️ ︰ # PHYSICAL .ᐟ
hair and eye color : black hair, brown eyes. height and build : six foot two inches, athletic build. dominant hand : right hand. tattoos : none. scars : none. clothing style : casual, sporty and modern with an emphasis on his massive sneaker collection. professional, clean and tailored suits, favors color when allowed.
🏵️ ︰ # PSYCHE .ᐟ
mbti : entj — the commander. moral alignment : chaotic neutral. astrological placements : leo sun, leo moon, libra rising.
personality : confident, brash, borderline self-absorbed. feelings of entitlement and the deserved success. popular and to an extent, charming. passionate in all aspects of his life. deeply afraid of failing to reach expectations, refusal to accept defeat. delusion in the face of failure. sometimes neglectful of his personal life.
