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

January 6th or so

[telewarped]

[It probably isn’t the best time to try speaking to the Fog, if the weather and the whispers around the city are any indication. Even so, Shoka’s had something on her mind, and both it and her transformations have her feeling too restless to stick around at the apartment all day. So, when there’s enough of a lull in the storm that she at least doesn’t feel like she’s going to get completely bowled over by the wind, she ventures out to Lake Dala.

Though it feels like the storm could pick up again at any minute, the waters look eerily welcoming to the fledgling Kelpie. It feels too rude—even for Shoka, somehow—to come with a request and no offering for a god she figures is volatile, so she’s brought along an obligatory crescent as a substitute for a 5-yen coin. She doesn’t immediately see an obvious place to leave an offering, though. She doesn’t see much of anything, really, with the fog so thick—but she figures that if she just leaves the coin by the shore and starts talking, the Fog will catch wind of it eventually. So she does just that.]

So, uh… Hey. Fog…

[But she really wishes she could just type this attempted pacifying preamble junk rather than say it.]

Um, thanks, I guess—first of all. Didn’t think I’d enjoy this much, but the powers… kind of rule. Good one, by the way—teaching the drowned girl how to breathe underwater. I’m not sure if you actually did that on purpose, but… I’m kinda into it, to be honest. [The ends of her seaweed tendrils snake out a little from under her hood.] Think I could even get used to these guys, too, once I figure out how to control 'em a little better…

[None of it is a lie, at least, even if the tone betrays her inner frustration. Speaking of which...]

Anyway, I’ve… got something I wanna ask you about. If you’re around.

[fromthefog]

[The wind howls, and yet, the fog remains still. An ancient voice speaks--no, doesn't speak--it echoes in Shoka's mind, like a stray thought brought to the surface.

Indistinct whispers dance on the breeze. All of them speak of Shoka.]

What is it that you wish to ask, my child? Speak--I am always listening.

[Her voice--it isn't warm, per se, but it has a certain effect to it in which it makes you feel like you're truly being heard, even if that isn't necessarily the case. Her tone implies some sort of familiarity, despite the chill in the air and the thick mist that settles around Shoka.]

[telewarped]

[Though there's no true warmth to the voice, it isn't the vengeful roar Shoka is expecting. So far so good, she thinks, but still her reply is hesitant, a stream-of-consciousness that starts uncertain and halting. Indeed, she sounds very much like the child she is in these moments—a young troublemaker struggling to set aside her pride just long enough to at least attempt to explain herself to a figure of authority.]

It's... about a friend. Brought in from the same place, y'know? He told me he came here a while back... to yell at you, I guess. About all of this—us being here. And—right after that, he started having these nightmares.

[She stares down at her feet as she speaks, shrinking beneath her hood as wisps of mist curl around her, listening. Idly, she nudges at the mud with one already filthy toe of her sneaker.]

Bet that happens to a lot of people here, honestly, but... These dreams don't seem normal. He won't tell me what's in 'em, but I know it has to be something seriously messed up. And he's still having them—like they aren't gonna stop on their own...

[Her worry and frustration finally begin to boil over then, elevating her voice to its usual snippy tone.]

So is that just a thing you do? Give us extra screwed-up nightmares to—what? Teach us lessons or whatever? [Her mouth twists itself into a sneer.] Make us behave? If it is, can you lay off already? I can tell you right now that Beat's way too dense to catch on to whatever cryptic BS you're trying to tell him.

[Once she's given it a voice, the anger seems to suddenly drain out of her, leaving only the worry, the guilt.]

And if it isn't you doing it... Can you—tell me some way to help him? It was kind of my fault he yelled, so...

[Maybe not her fault specifically, but he'd been angry for all of them then—her, Joshua, Shiki, Neku. If taking on all of the blame will do something, she's ready to do it. Otherwise, she's at a loss, every bit as much of a useless weakling as she always had been.]

[fromthefog]

[The Fog knows the individual in which Shoka is referring to. Beat is the one who came to the shores of Lake Dala and shouted at her for some amount of time. She didn't dignify him with a response--after all, most of her children, on some level, dislike her. Sometimes, the best course of action is to simply ignore them.

There's a brief pause as the Fog consider's Shoka's words carefully. The wind continues to tousle Shoka's hair. Eventually, her voice rings out again, her tone level, if slightly amused.]

I recall the pooka in which you are referring to. I recall his outburst, but I found it unnecessary to respond. If I have induced such nightmares personally, I do not recall. But if he fears the Fog as a result--as he ought to--then why should I not lay claim to this act?

[She might not have caused the nightmares directly, but she's more than happy to lay claim to blame. After all, her name is whispered in fearful, hushed tones among humans in the darkest hours of the night, as if speaking too loudly may cause her to overhear. She is primal fear incarnate, made worse by the sins of humanity, and with every ill and ailment that humans suffer, her name is invoked and cursed. Why should she not shrug her shoulders and accept this accusation, as well?]

If he is having such troubles with these nightmares, as you claim, then perhaps he should consider his place in this world as a monster--a bearer of my strength. Confront these nightmares head on, and bare his fangs and claws in response. To face fear is to acknowledge and conquer it, so that one may never be plagued by it again.