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

[fromthefog]

It’s been a while since Hawkeye’s seemingly useless prayer. A few days after the event’s end, really.

But one night, as he closes up the clinic, a fierce wind blows through, snapping the windows wide open, rattling glass. It swirls all around, and just as quickly as it roars through, it’s gone.

In its wake, a simple note has found its way on a table. While the paper and handwriting itself is impossibly neat and proper, it’s tinged red with blood, and its edges are ragged, as if being shred by claws.

The note itself reads:

This was no mere ‘game’. When a petulant child throws a tantrum, they must be disciplined. If they are not, they will grab at what is not theirs - first my power, then my sister’s, and now all of you.

As for your invite... such humanly vices, these “cocktails.” They are beneath me, but there is some sentiment towards your gesture. Be well, young one..

[getmeoutofthedraft]

[He reads it three times, then scrunches it up and aims it at the waste-paper basket.]

What a load of crap.