Post by ADVOKATE | katie on Jun 26, 2011 20:41:52 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,430,true][atrb=bgcolor,#000000] i'm tellin' you it's over now there's an angel holdin' me my way's easy even if you're fallen, or you're strugglin' there's still beauty in what we do INHERENT! —NAME! crystle. —ALIAS! life, bria, era, mother, theotokos, thea. —AGE! unmeasured. —GENDER! female. —RANK! god. so que sera let's go sailin' on there's a wise man in every fool MANIFEST! |
—BRIEF!
forever varying shades of light and dark. carries symbols on her face that have unknown meaning.
—DEDICATED!
the shades of life are drawn from those it takes of and depleted by those it gives to. her original coloring has been lost to time, whether she was born pure as the sky or dark as the earth she maintains. as the balance between death and incarnation is held her appearance remains the approximate same mixture of dirty off-white and meaningless black and beryl markings. the shades shift with time and each wave of death that strikes the world, causing her hue to be forever inconstant. it is she who chooses to give the macaw its brilliant colors and the hare its dull browns, hand-picking each creature and dipping them in her own choice of paint before their birth.
her facial markings are oppositions of sleek and ragged. smooth streaks of color spotlight her watering eyes, while the roughest sketch of a plant propagates from snout to forehead. as life has shown herself to inhabitants of her realm, this single distinction has noticeably changed. the first recorded sightings tell of a barely-noticeable oval, and from there the stages of the shoot have progressed to what in current time might be described as a budding stalk. rumor has it that the timeline of this blaze marks the beginning of time and foretells the end of all life. likewise growing are the forever-black streaks working their way from her lips to invade the rest of her visage. initial sightings mention nothing of these peculiar and clashing slights, but at present they have managed to reach her cheeks. there are many conjectures for this. the most popular belief is that these are the stains of the lives she swallows.
in all reality, the causes for her appearance are unknown to any and all mortal. what is very well known, however, is her demeanor, not so much through action but poise. there is little to be called pretty or exceptional in life’s form, but there is a gentleness to it, an unreachable calm in her face. she is the comforter, the sole reason for death to be acceptable. mere sightings of her, determined by the strength of the mortal’s heart, can either lull one into blissful catatonia or light a fire in their souls.
in all her calm and all her fluidity, there is one thing that remains constant. forever, life is crying. tears form waterfalls on the edge of her eyes, starkly contradicting the placid smile that can usually be found sitting on her lips. a cause for this, only myths can explain away. each tear could be a soul, or a parade of mourning for all that has befallen her children. perhaps the weeping is celebrative, a sign of her immense happiness with the world. the mystery is simply thrown to lore with the rest of life’s details.
after all, being an enigma is part of the job description for a god.
i say come back
come in from the cold into the warm
i feel like fire
guiding you back home as darkness falls
come in from the cold into the warm
i feel like fire
guiding you back home as darkness falls
LATENT!
—BRIEF!
curious and yearning.
—LIKES!
- underdogs
- information
- creation
- excitement
- mutuality
—DISLIKES!
- threats
- fellow gods
- tyrants
- setbacks
- ignorance
—DEDICATED!
many are born without a light, left to trial and error in order to discover the purpose of life and all of earth’s plights. to comfort themselves, they tell themselves that their god is benign, blessing them in undistinguishable ways in accordance to a redemptive path. in polytheistic cultures, lenience in given to create gods to which unfortunate happenings are attributed, while others shine true and gracious. in all the assorted notions, many in this realm prefer to think of the wolf goddess crystle as being a benevolent matriarch. in reality, life has no empathy.
she is not complicated in her ways, but rather, simple. the miseries of those on her planet are not understood by their life-giving god. their pain has no sway on her emotions or her actions, and their prayers are always ignored. she is unable to even recognize suffering as it contends with happiness, only progress. thus, she will not take extra steps to safe guard mortals from harm. when disease and war take hold of lands there is no mercy to be had.
however, she does dabble her paws into every day events. life’s choices are the closest things to fate that exist in this realm. it is almost a game for her. she sets up miracles and flicks the dominoes of downfalls. the drive is never to produce happiness nor despair, but simply to cause a reaction. to simply set something in motion brings life the greatest glee. she learns with her creations, discovering as they do, and so all her purpose is focused on progress and education.
all these half-cocked plans bubbling in the god’s mind are determined to succeed, for life is nothing but determination. for this, she becomes stubborn. her fight with death is whether to allow souls to rest or continuously recycle them in her world. she is constantly trying to produce more and more life forces, multitasking on a universal scale to create every scenario possible and experience it with her children. she guards all this with every ounce of power. while the other gods may throw around their weight and scream their chaos, life will never allow them to fully extinguish her creation. she is often an opposing voice in the immortal world. however, with those on earth, she has honed a talent for articulation. often she is able to mediate and at the least protect the ideals most close to her heart, even if she is forced to sacrifice others. if she were to ever lose, and her world be destroyed, life would refuse to recreate; she would rather lay down and die with the vast multitude of souls she’s spent so many centuries doting over.
with this consistent battling and the vices of her touch-and-go reign, her anger is surprisingly quick to calm. life is a god who never judges. the blackest of souls can find the same affection within the god’s heart as the most valiant of heroes. all are on an even playing field with their god. all, that is, but the survivors. the under dogs, over time, have worked their way deeper into her heart than the rest. the experiences they feed her with are more diverse, powerful and fulfilling. she is never discouraged in the drawbacks that plague mortality, and forgives each let down. after all, even though she may prepare the most elaborate of stages, a soul doesn’t have to perform. and it certainly isn’t certain that her chosen pawn will carry the right heart. life makes mistakes.
in her error, she manages from afar. crystle rarely visits her earth. she’d rather see it through a microscope, dictating from a mountainous throne, pulling strings atop stars, than to get her paws dirty in the muck of the planet.
for life is most susceptible to her greatest mistake of falling in love with her creations.
} that was shitty and unorganized, i realize. so here's a quick list:
} life is not empathetic
} life does not have mercy
} life sets up situations, but does not force souls to partake nor does she always choose capable beings
} life's knowledge and experiences are a collection of every creatures' that she creates; she learns with her children
} life is stubborn and determined; she will often step on the toes of the other gods to ensure the safety of her terrarium
} life craves knowledge
} life has a silver tongue
} life is forgiving
} life has a thing for underdogs
} life keeps her distance from earth because she falls in love with mortals extremely easily; not necessarily romantically
so everyone stands in line
'cause they wanna stay alive
to wait alone, no dog no bone
and then you find it's over
still it tears your heart
to slip away from the crowd
'cause they wanna stay alive
to wait alone, no dog no bone
and then you find it's over
still it tears your heart
to slip away from the crowd
FASCINATION!
—ELEMENT!
life.
—SPELLS!
innumerable.
but if you have what it takes
to return to where
all the world knows your name
then que sera
let's go sailin' on
there's a wise man in every fool.
REVEAL!
—NAME!
katie.
—AGE!
eighteen.
—EXPERIENCE!
nine years.
—OTHERS!
theoktony & sabriel.
—SAMPLE!
warrior he was not. educator, he had attempted, but he could never light a path bright enough for his pupils to make it out of the dark. lover, friend, brother; these words were stolen from him before he had the opportunity to create meaning for them. he tread the land without a purpose to any step, forgotten by all, even as they brushed past him, even as they choked on the scent of his decaying flesh.
he had been born of the earth element, blessed by terr as the progeny of an exceptional couple that would raise him within a pack of strength and ambition. a straight path with plenty of light and fellow travelers. it was a beautiful circumstance, a machine to create heroes and aristocrats. meaning was unfaltering. luck never left chance. opening his eyes to the world, he stood at the beginning of this road. it was a shared moment, a paradox of start and end. for it was then that the gods set fire to the earth.
for years he had rotted. sentenced to suffer the purgatory of his god, everything was taken from him and to fill the absence were countless decades. perhaps, a stronger will would have forced a positive outcome. perhaps, a more brazen heart would have defied the curse. caught in the throws of a standless mellow, this defeated soul could only find the ability to wander, more ghostly than the dead.
twenty-nine thousand two hundred and seventy-nine days were all identical to one another. never did the sun hit him. never did feeling bite through the numbness of his being. never did his heart falter, until this final day.
caught in the swamps of an uncharted country, the pain that overtook his chest was unbelievable. it gripped him, opened his eyes wide, shocked his mind into a euphoric flurry of thought and emotion. howling across his nerves and every muscle fiber was a blessing. it buckled his legs, brought tears to his eyes, caused him to scream out from the sheer agony, yet the fire was nothing compared to the flood of relief that was overtaking him. death was here, creeping among the rotted foliage and putrid waters, an invincible predator. the paradoxical paroxysm caught him in throes, causing his body to convulse and drive itself further into the stinking muck.
flashes of gunfire, hope warring with terror, shook his vision. the swamp was a trap, a closed-tight prison in the heart of this dark land. yet light dominated, blinding him. shapes failed to trigger recognition in his mind, whether it be the water lapping at his struggling body or the thick mossy trees locking him in. he knew it was caused by shortages in his mind, that his system was failing him completely. that soon the light show would be replaced by an empty night sky.
he knew this but it didn't happen. not initially. rather, the lightning began to subside and surrender his vision. he could discern the shape of the unmoving things around him. he could catch the face watching him from the recesses of the swamp.
her eyes were the softest green, that of newly sprouted grass. multiply, they were rimmed with black, then a darker beryl, and finally a murky white that overtook the majority of her coloration, allowing her to stand out in those shadows. she was observing him with a kind of fascination upon her dial. recognition lit those halcyon eyes and she stepped off the still canvas to approach him.
each pawfall closer saw a lessening of the pain inside his body. a sense of safety lulled his mind into quiescence. a feeling of which he never experienced in his life overtook his being. it was calm without apathy.
a maternal caress of her maw over his forehead dimmed the lights of the world. it was now that he could see the tears tumbling down her cheeks. as eternity faded and the switch came closer and closer to off, unused muscles twitched to life in his face. on his lips was a smile, the first of his existence. in his departure he came to know that she had never forgotten.
life soothed her cursed creation into death, much as a mother lulls her babe to sleep.
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