Aniora is a minor goddess of death, or rather undeath. She's associated with forest fires, elk, and hares, and upset spirits. People pray to her in a last ditch effort to save their lives, often with the understanding that she will not make that life easy to live. As much as she loves to extend the lives of others, she requires tribute in blood (human, or her associated animals.) Her followers love her dearly, even if fully appeasing her is rather difficult. Her mother is far more of a hassle to get to work with you, though.
Orphia is a goddess of Autumn whose firy orange hair turns black when the first snow falls. She is associated with opossums and lost or abandoned children- often depicted with many in her arms and hanging off of her back. Orphia is something of a child's goddess, though adults go to her for luck with their own little ones. She's often prayed to for safe travels through the woods (especially with children in tow.) On the flip side, she is also known for her aggression in the harsher months, and is often called upon to punish or protect- though she only ever does so for a price. Unless the one calling upon her is a child of course.
"Undertaker," the masked, temporarily anonymous troll calls at the abandoned warehouse doors. The rusted metal screeches as she pushes it open. She winces, as she has a dozen times entering this place.
"It's Anthem to you, you atheist bitch," a hoarser voice calls in return, a few feet away from the entrance. She's not in her preacher getup this time- she looks like an entirely different person. No paint... several inches shorter... Even her mohawk is up in a messy bun on top of her head. The mask is there though. It always is.
"My sincerest of apologies, your holiness," Orphia says flatly, with a little bow and a flourish to accent her sarcasm. The Undertaker kicked a rock at her, which she sidesteps easily. "No church tonight?"
"After this. Do you have your boy's security deposit?" Zippie uncrosses her arms to twinkle her fingers at her. "Hi, by the way, Ribbons."
Orphia snorts, and pats the hefty bag at her side. "Hi, Anthem. You think I lugged this thing up here for my health?" Zipper's eyes widen, then narrow. Orphia sighs, holding out the bag for her to examine.
"Bullshit," She says, pawing through banded stacks, as if looking for something else padding out the duffel bag. Orie watches her look for something wrong with something. Anything. The taller anon taps her foot impatiently.
"My clients pay cash, Anthem. Is Cas covered or not?" She hates doing business on his behalf, especially like this. For this reason. He hated being up here, though, and Anthem seemed to prefer dealing with "Ribbons" anyway.
"Oh hell yeah- I mean," Zipper clears her throat, relieving Orphia of her bag. "Yeah. He's good. I'll get some of my south city guys to keep an eye on him and his place. Couple nights. They'll be down. Smiles won't touch him again." Orphia nodded glancing back to the doors of the dingy warehouse. She stretched, the lacing up her sleeves shiny in the low light.
"I should, uh, go-
"Are you sure you don't want to come to-"
"Absolutely the fuck not-"
"No, right, yeah, yeah you're busy-"
A short, uncomfortable silence falls over the two of them, before Zippie speaks up again.
"Thanks for the tithe."
"Goodbye Anthem." Orphia huffs, turning on her heel, hearing Zippie laugh behind her.
"The Serpent's Hands accept your generous donation in return for-" She starts, doing some voice Orphia could only assume was an exaggeration of how she preaches.
"I said BYE, Anthem!" Orie shouts over her, fast walking to the door. She could swear she heard more laughing from the Undertaker, followed by a "Bye Ribbons!" But the screech of the door behind her made it impossible to tell.
another outfit... she’s got a Work anon outfit to come (for meeting clients, lol) but this is her “out to the city but dont want to be recognized as a jade with very distinct vitiligo patterning” look
