Prayer Box

[fromthefog]

This is a place to send your prayers to the Fog god. She may not always respond, or she may respond in ways you don’t expect, but she is always listening.

Speak, she hears you.

OOC note: As of April 2020, threads with the gods will be capped at three NPC replies! Please keep this in mind when writing god prayers to make sure you get everything you need out of the thread. It’s also possible to handwave prayers by titling your comment HANDWAVED PRAYER. Handwaved prayers lack our usual flourish, but you can expect a faster response!

As of February 2024, god prayers will be handwaved only. Please only submit a prayer if you have a question for either god which needs answering in order to progress your character's arc within Ryslig. If this is something you need to tier up within the god boon system, or just to set up a player plot in general, please don't hesitate to submit a prayer about it! You may shorten it down to an OOC summary of what your character is asking. This will allow any of our helper mods to reply much faster, without having to dig into the specifics of either god's personality/writing quirks. Should this limitation be lifted again in the future, this note will be removed.

Comments

Ignore that last one! as a side note, Elizabeth's death is more than enough for Tier 3 boons ;)

[fromthefog]

[The wind stirs, a lone giggle carried alongside it - can you see? Another voice picks up, then another, and soon hundreds of voices are shrieking in laughter. Amidst them, a single voice grows - cackling, loud and triumphant.]

Can you see? Look upon her mangled body, and rejoice! My warrior returns, victorious!

[The wind curls around IV, cold and sharp, and soon the weight of a woman's embrace falls upon him. Her hands thread through his hair, grasping tight and trembling.]

Not a single wail in death. But know this: she died alone. She died awaiting my approval, and in her last breath she finally understood how worthless she was.

[The shaking hands loosen, almost as if she's remembered to breathe. A ghostly hand strokes his hair, and slowly the weight of her embrace is lifted.]

Did you feel the thrill of the fight? When you tore the life from her veins, did it bring you even a fraction of the joy I feel now?

I KNOW, just gotta come up with a power set I like

[fandisservice]

[ He stands at the eye of a gale of laughter, wind and voices that embrace him and praise what he's wrought. The sour tang of his bitterness dissolves to an aftertaste on his tongue, listening to her words. He reworks the memory in the framing of her phrasing: that he'd succeeded for all that she never screamed. For all that she never wailed.

His head rises as he straightens from his bow, to see his stage and the audience's emptied chairs. He reviews the scene he directed: there was the adrenaline thrill in the madness of the car crash, the fight. The torture had dissolved to tedium, frustration at the fear he hadn't been able to drag out of her, but the fight had been something grand.

He laughs, brittle and bright as a flint struck to a shower of sparks. ]

Are you going to dull down my moment by asking me to do math? I can't give you the exact fraction, but it was fucking swell.

[fromthefog]

[Her laugh is vicious, at odds with the tender hand that continues to stroke his hair.]

I want you sharp, pet. I would not wish to dull any with such a thirst for blood as yours.