The Realms - Semi Advanced discussion

✼Wisteria Keithia✼

||Etherian Terraria||

Well unlike most of the Gods and Goddesses Wisteria is quite easily manipulated and above all else remarkably trusting. This is caused because when anyone male or female awakens her peacefully from her slumber whether intential or not she will be at their disposal until of course she discovers the truth. Just look at it like a jinn and his/her lamp being rubbed by a beings hand, except of course there's no magical lamp to stroke, and the Jinn is actually a nature Goddess. (Kiss her lips softly and gently, she is a romantic woman at heart, or simply a delicate nudge against her bare shoulder.) However if she discovers the evil hidden amongst a man or woman, she becomes colder than -one thousand degrees, strong enough to completely destroy a border wall, with her eartg abilities of course. Because of this she is incredibly intelligent though by the laziness centered in her core she usually doesnt let out any snarky remarks, or intellectual talk that usually bores the daylight out of the people and creatures she has grown fond of. Mostly because she has lips that dont stop ranting when asked a question that should have ended as quickly as it was asked.

A cool breeze against the summer heat embelishes the statue like women in her slumber. Wisteria has always slept through everything, unless of course her guidance and help were needed. In her sleep Wisteria is known to see and hear all that is happening to her children, so nothing really escapes her notice, unless she wills it out of existence. All that seem to come upon her, believe she is nothing more than a detailed statue, as she doesnt seem to move, and the creatures surrounding her sleep. But fellow onlookers gape at her sleeping beauty: unaware that the goddess they praise and worship is right beneath there noses.

Ą̟͓͉̤̠̅̽͘͡͠X̴̧̥̮͇͙̼́͑͊͋̀̀̂̎͢͜͞E̵͔͇̹͚͙̺̼̿̀͌̾̔̌̓̃L̷̡̛͈̲̳̳̝͓̫̙̈͊̍̽̊̓̽̃͜͠ N̶̠̗͎̳͋̎͊̎̈́͘̚͜Ǫ̟̫͇̜̺̦͕͆̑̿͐̉̀̔͞͝Ṿ̢͎͈̟̠͔͗͂͑̽̾̃̈́͘ͅÀ̬̞̗͖̙̩̲̫̫͛̉̀̌̈́̍̾

SERAPH

||KETER/KETHER~Crown||
°Alpha Reality
°Enlightenment
°Unity
||CHOKMAH~Wisdom||
°Energy Generation
°Spatial-Temporal Lock
°Time Manipulation
||BINAH~Understanding||
°Omni-Absorption
°Omni-Senses
°Perception Manipulation
°Singularity
||GEBURAH~Strength)||
°Absolute Strength
°Fire Manipulation
°Metal Manipulation
°War Empowerment
||CHESED~Majesty||
°Air Manipulation
°Electricity Manipulation
°Empathic Healing
°Weather Manipulation
||TIIFERET~Adornment||
°Meta Regeneration
°Flawless Restoration
°Resurrection
°Omni-Protection
||HOD~Splendor||
°Maximum Brain Capacity
°Mercury Mimicry
°Omnilingualism
°Physical Augmentation
||NETZACH~Perpetuity||
°Emotion Manipulation
°Evolution
°Water Manipulation
||YESOD~Foundation||
°Dream Manipulation
°Dream Walking
°Mediumship
°Spiritual Awareness
||Malkuth (Kingdom)||
°Earth Manipulation
°Plant Manipulation

*Da'at (Knowledge)

Seraph in the eyes of the beholden would appear quite strikingly beautiful or darkly handsome much unbefitting of a pure divinity. The sharp almost feline neon glare, shining an opaque golden purple bracketed by thick raven lashes. Pale skin the sun would not dare to harm, to kiss with its damaging UV lights, only left to ponder how such skin was not peirced in some way. Ensueing the awe and envious yet secret glares of women and men alike. Standing at an abnormally astonishing height, the line of his sleek powerful legs wrapped by vinyl trousers, a fabric the shines bleekly in the rays of sunlight, but pridefully became united with the night when shrouded in darkness. Paired elogently with matching boots, however, pretaining only a minor difference, a difference even an assassin's analyzing eyes would grudgingly bypass. Due mostly to his knowledge that his boots are made of armor, ancient dwarven armor. Armor fashioned to appear like fabric only to hide that it was not, appearing nothing more than ordinary brand new leather boots. Alas, Seraph has little use for shrouding himself in darkness, even darkness had its limits in masking mortals and immortals. Seraph is simply put, a man, no Arch Angel who enforcers his rank to anyone who crosses his path. Deeming those foolish enough to underestimate his power unworthy of his protection. Even the tattered remains of a poorly damaged cloak hangs loosely at the belt of his waist, its glorious luster vanished deeply by battle. Ah, but the beauty of three long swords, yes, indeed three swords. Swords that are not be meant to be underestimated upon themselves. Seraph has mastered the three swords technique, being the prince of Arch Angels, and a Leader of Gods army, he has gained the title of advanced swordsmaster. His blades legends all there own, but quite unquily different from the other, strapped against his hips. An array of golden armor being worn as if it were nothing more than a tight T-Shirt, covering the hard muscle beneath the armor, the contors of the bulky muscle against his forearms pulse with life. Yet he retains an almost sleek set to his body, but like most men Serpah retains broad shoulders, always held high as he carries himself with authority.

Egotisical bastard! Cold hearted jerk! Fucking asswhole! Damn good kisser! As illogical as it seems Seraph has no interest in playing with woman, a rational part of him knowing full well that dealing with a woman. Is well difficult, even for an Arch Angel. Except Seraph being Seraph barely shows any signs that he cares, even allowing said wrathful woman, still caught in the past of a one night stand to go full rage on him. He would possibly pass of as the typical guy who doesnt give a damn, but truthfully considerate and would somehow make amends. Seriousness also plays a significant peice to who he is. Looking at him people can immediately tell the Arch Angel hasnt cracked a smile in years, petty stuff like smiling has no role in Seraph's ideals of humanity. Hell if he had to smile in order to save the word he would rather end the world himself. Worst case scenerio thankfully would never happen. So its no surprise that the set of his lips are always set in a firm line, his eyes calculating and vigilant. Predating his morals he has a slight weakness for hurting a woman, even if she's evil or good, though again no emotion flickers in his gorgeous feline eyes. But alas Seraph shows no mercy for the pure of heart, or the just plain evil. Simply cross his path by the enormity of simple curiousity, be prepared for an onslaught of agile movements, he'll have you smashed and pratically buried in a building. So if neccesary before making an unfortunate presence known, prepare a valid reason thar doesnt sound remotely indecent. Ah, unlike most Angels residing in the Heavens, it was considered betrayal if any Angel fell from the safety of the heavens. Seraph himself is the only Angel allowed to leave the santuary of the heavens without punishment. Having fallen himself long ago he witnessed the integrity of a life below the sanctuary of the heavens. In all due respect he considered it to be mildly equal to that of the skies, destruction, order had yet to be restored, each living individual reminded him of an Angel yet not fallen. Rebellious younglings, still believing that where ever they may be destruction will not follow, but destruction as well as darkness will always be near. There was no such thing as a happily ever after, or a world living in peace. But if he was meant to make them believe such a ridiculous notion, well than so be it.

Archangels are not the pure, heavenly beings you believe them to be, because even they have a true form that whimsically revolves around the sins of others. Absorbing the destruction and chaos from the world below there sanctuary. Bringing with them a true form that if shown, could wipe out everything in contact with this transformation. If required this form could annihilate the entire world or all of existence into obilivion. However upon revealing the true form of Seraph, it may possess another effect, which may unweave the very fabric and laws of reality.

Given the opportunity to become a God of creation himself, Seraph primitavely declined the offer. Voicing his opinion that such an honor couldnt be done, that it was a duty he as a tainted individual could not qualify as. Seraph, believe it or not was a Fallen Angel, and angel who pleasured unto slaughtering other angels who followed his mistake. His gorgeous wings were stained red, each feather dripping blood, the titantic stench of tainted pure blood darkened his very existence, his sword stealing the souls of the beings he slaughtered, but regardless he still remained pure. A purity Seraph onto himself couldnt pride himself with. Each night, every morning, staring into the viens shrouded in darkness engulfing his palms, his wrists, each lengthy period of time, making him become the one thing he detested: a demon. Yet, he hardly spoke of returning to the Gods, he revered upon the idea of being accepted into the mist. The mist of divinity of heavenly purity grasping hold of each foolish angel. But, alas, he could not stop himself from remembering the emotion, an emotion that filled the deep chasm within his heart, the dirty emotion he only felt while in the emissarry of the Gods and Goddesses.

Amaterasu stumbled upon the young, or not quite so young angel, grumbling and groaning with a sunset desire to kill. The slivery white cresent of his hair falling over the rim of his forcefully closed eyes, his abnormally tall frame pressed against the back of a brick wall, the back of his head banging intimately against the cracking wall with each agonizing bang, the long reach of his legs spread out before him. Amaterasu took slow hesitant steps towards the future Arch Angel of creation. However upon wafting the scent of her divinity, Seraph woke from his light slumber. His tall frame towering over her with meek ease, his powerful arms crossing over the bare set of his pale muscular chest, his blood shot eyes glaring down at the tiny Goddess, except with one brow raised in question at her appearance before him. Amaterasu was quite terrified of him, at first, but it wasnt a fear that would last forever.

Seraph upon laying his greedy eyes on the beautiful Goddess of Mythical Creation wished to shed blood. But the profound gleam in her glamorous eyes quickly halted his approach to do what the darkness in him wanted, needed. What is it that you want from me, little Goddess. Seraph watched how she cutely entertwined her fingers together, then released them, then entertwined her fingers once more. The motion almost made him chuckle, almost. I not just what i want Seraph. I know deep with in you want the same thing too. She stepped closer to him, tilting her head to meet his gaze, her hands splayed against his chest. Oh, and what would that be? He chuckled, grabbing hold of her wrists with one hand, his eyes peircing the starry gaze in her black irises, her touch held a brief shock to his darkness, eerily calming him. He hated it. But she hastily took a bold step closer to him, watching his eyes or the slight curl of his upper lip as she came closer. To be apart of the heavens once more. He grabbed her shoulders, bruising the delicate skin, and with no remorse, smashed her against the brick wall, leaving a gaping crater deep within the building. Smirking triumphliy as she cried out in pain, he tilted her chin up, wipping gallantly at the tears streaming down her lovely cheeks, feeling the quickening of her pulse against his forefinger. What makes you believe that? Amaterasu meanwhile fought the urge to touch his cheek, instead tilting her head up to meet his gorgeous eyes. Your heart tells me no lies, Seraph, this form doesnt suit you. she placed a tentitive hand across his chest, feeling the hollow thumping of his heart, and the slight flinch of her touch against his chest. Your not complete without the heavens, Seraph. Even you beseechingly understand this. He searched her eyes and wrenched himself from her, slamming his fist above her head, the bricks colasping into rubble. You know nothing! He hissed, drawing a fluent seething blade and wrathfully pressing it to her lovely neck, drawing a few droplets of blood, hearing a faint whisper of a wince from her parted lips. I know why you fell Seraph, and you were correct. We are afraid Seraph, that we cannot save this world. Our world. We are trying all at our disposal to save it. But we're running out of time. Seraph lowered his blade, but only by a fraction, his glare still residing on her features. Not everyday he witnessed an almighty God admit to being fearful, as he was left to ponder, a thumb tapped quickly over the hilt of his blade. Well damn, he almost threw his head back and roared with laughter, ah but laughter was something Seraph upon himself failed to comprehend or release. We need you Seraph. With the falling of are previous Arch Angel, the heavens Angels remain conflicted without a superior Leader leading them. She beckoned, her eyes pleading, her tiny fingers squeezing his biceps. He relinquished a savory sigh, who was he to lead a race of foolish angels who panicked at the slightest mishap. I'm no Arch Angel, Goddess, it was never my intention to become one. Thinking back, he fell from the heavens because he was bored of the tranquilty amongst the skies. He had lived for the chaos and destruction the God of Destruction offered, until his newly requainted ArchDemon power was bestowed to him. This power that consumed him each passing moment, making him become the one thing he hated. This is your only opportunity Seraph, will you reside amongst the destruction of a land foreign to you which by yourself you cannot save? Or will you return to the heavens as an Arch Angel and save this land as well as the skies from complete corruption and chaos? The choice of course is yours... She closed her eyes, leaning forward to press barely a whisper of a kiss against his cheek, a silent endearment passing through the kiss towards his embassy of purely demonic thoughts.

When she vanished, a lovely smile set against her perfect lips. He leaned his head against the wall, his clenched fist slammimg against the cracking wall, there wasnt going to be much of this building when he was finished contemplating a decision. If i must save this measly planet with the help of the gods. Then very well, Goddess i will accept the offer. But don't expect much, there will be nothing worth saving in the end. He looked toward the darkened skies, witnessing the meteor shower beginning to descend to the Earth. Nothing last forever after all

FENRIR BENURANT

A legend against time, Fenrir Benurant defied the laws of the universe, seeking her own path as she herself forced it. Beginning with the remnants of her tranquil yet vicious birth. No, she was not born by the mating of a woman or man. In fact, it was the death of a lycan newborn child that she manifested from the very essence of the universe. The child's lifeless body delved into the endless reaches of space, each and every planets core tearing limb from limb of the childs mangled figure. However, each unique humanoid feature brought the lifeless corpse into the now state of her lithe agile figure. Still the female body of an enhanced lycan child was devoid of a spiritual soul.

❝I was not born in your universe, so i do what i will.❞ Fenrir from her birth was immediately hunted down by goverment officials, supernatural wannabe's, assassins, organizations that wished to harness and manipulate the vicious power lying dorment in her core. But, alas, none succeeded, because it was impossible to hunt down someone who was simply non-existent, was void of a soul, did not breathe, and did not follow the laws of the universe.