Gentle_Incubus
Experienced
- Joined
- Nov 10, 2008
- Posts
- 86
Exposition
Culture. Culture is a thing that all tribes of humanity have in common. While the culture may differ from tribe to tribe, the fact that culture exists remains the same. These differing cultures also have many things in common with one another, things undeniably human.
On of these things is Mythology. Since ancient times, human have always felt and believed that there was something greater than themselves, and certain individuals would be chosen among them to attain greatness. Mythology, the foundation of Culture.
There are many things that mythologies all over the world have in common. Probably the most infamous of these would be the idea of Divinity. Deities. The Gods and Goddesses of Lore. From Zeus to Tezcatlipoca, from Odin to Amaterasu, humanity has this tendency to imagine these ethereal spirits far greater than themselves. Is this a coincidence, that all these people start to imagine and then worship these figures? Most specialists in the field that the practice was a way for humans to explain the unexplainable before the miracle of modern science.
But then, how is that that so many people were so devoted to a rather clear idea of who these "imaginary people" were? And as helpful as science is, aren't there still things, still mysteries, that have no scientific explanation?
The truth is, the Gods and Goddesses of old exist, and have existed for thousands upon thousands of years. The story begins at the beginning of humanity, when primordial energies now known as the Titans created life on this little blue and green ball of a planet. Evolution soon created man, and the Titans reproduced amongst themselves. The primitive humans were fearful of the Titans, and their great, almost uncontrollable power. The Titans had no love for Humanity, they simply were, as rage consumed forces of nature.
Humanity would eventually become the Titan's downfall, however. Afraid, and wishing very much to survive, the humans, gifted with a glimmer of intelligence, began to pray. It was this act, and those thoughts, that reached the minds of the youngest of the Titans, who reacted, taking on human-like shapes. These new beings were born with sympathy for Humanity, and drew power from them, and thus became the first Gods. They fought against their forebears, and banished the Titans to the Underworld, where they were to stay forever trapped in their prison.
Time went on, and the Gods intermingled with Humanity harmoniously. The Gods gave humans technology, and enlightenment, while humans gave them love, an emotion the Gods basked in, and that the Titans were incapable of understanding.
But as time went on, the Gods started to notice a pattern. Events that happened once before were happening again in endless cycles. Stories of myth kept on repeating themselves, and the repercussions were damaging to the humans. Not wanting their people to be harmed anymore than they needed to be, the Gods, of every pantheon, made a pact;
They would stay in the Overworld, and only visit the Middleworld (or World, i.e. our Earth) while in disguises, and forbidden to use their god-like powers (little tricks here and there are fine, but nothing to gain too much attention).
And that's how it was. Eventually, the Gods who had isolated themselves, found that their worship had all but diminished into oblivion, and they had become little better than bed time stories.
Which brings us to the modern day. Deep in the Underworld, an unknown malefactor crept into the Titan's prison and released them. Filled with fury, the Titans swore vengeance on their descendants, and stormed the Overworld with unparalleled malice. The Gods, of course, were taken off guard, but were still strong enough to hold the Titans back. However, holding them back was close to all they could do. The primordial energies of the Titans were too strong for the Gods, who were no longer gaining as much power from human worship, and the Gods knew that the spawn of the Titans, what humans call 'monsters' would stir from their slumber and terrorize humanity once again.
It was time to come up with a plan and make a choice. Gods would return to the World, and couple with Mortals as they did eons ago (for some reason, mortals are more fertile with deities than deities are with themselves) and birth Heroes. New Age Heracles's and Gilgamesh's. These godlings will fight the monsters of the World, and those worthy will rise in power until they become full-fledged Gods themselves. That way, the Gods can increase their own numbers, and stimulate worship to themselves.
This is a story of a group of those very godlings, how they will meet, and how they well mesh themselves into the weaving of Fate.
---------------
Rules
I'll keep it brief and simple. The Scions (also called heroes) do have special powers and super-human abilities associated with their divine parent, but I trust that you won't go too overboard. If you're a Scion of Zeus, for example, yeah, I expect you to have some lightning powers and be able to lift up a truck, but lifting a truck over your head will be a tough thing to do at first, alright? ;3
Speaking of the divine parents, any mythology is fine, as long as it's, like, an existing mythology. If I can find it on wikipedia, it's probably fine. :3
As for characters, no specific profile is needed, just a paragraph describing what your character is about. Things that should be covered are: Name, age, divine parent, a general overview of your born powers and abilities, and a detailed backstory. You can post this paragraph in your first post if you wish, but I won't. I'll just do a little blurb like I did with my character below.
Oh, and be sure to PM them to me. ;3
---------------
Characters
Allan Calavera; Scion of Tezcatlipoca; Controversial Radio Host; Played by Gentle_Incubus
----------------
Allan Calavera
"Good morning, grimy Manhattan! I hope you've all slept well, God knows I haven't, with all those police sirens blaring outside my apartment. Those of you from the area know what I'm talking about. Good Lord! It's not like they were dealing with a fucking gang war or something. Not like the one that happened conveniently on the other end of town. Funny thing that, our brave boys in blue, almost every squad car in the city, hounding down a single clown that decided to hold up a liquor store, while, oh what was the number? Right, over 50 innocent bystanders were injured in the uninterrupted scrap aforementioned. Good job, guys, good to see my tax dollars at work. At two in the morning. Thank you for the opportunity, really.
"And now, how about some music..."
Welcome to another day of Sirius's newest radio station, Crossbones. Officially a rock station, and formerly a local station, Crossbones it Jockeyed by a one Allan Calavera, who just so happens to be the reason why Crossbones is no longer allowed on the FM.
Simply put, Calavera was a bastard. For every rule there is on the radio, Calavera had been taken off the air five times for each. Aggressive to a fault, Calvarea had very quickly become a vocal activist and cynic, openly criticizing political policies and even just people in general. Critics and reviewers, at one point or another, had all called him an 'attack dog,' because once he bit on to something, he wouldn't let go. On the radio, he was balls out, and he wouldn't have it any other way. So, Calavera was taken off the air for a time, and supposedly banned from the airwaves.
The problem was, he was immensely popular, and if you met him, there would be no question why.
On the air, there was no question that Allan was charming. With a voice soft as silk, and a wit sharp as obsidian, Allan Calvera was well learned and well informed. It was clear that he boasted a quality education, and a firm sense of integrity and confidence. Most people assume that he uses the radio as an outlet for his aggression, and that in person, he is actually rather meek. After a few public appearances, however, that rumor was put to rest.
The 27 year old Allan Calavera was, without a doubt, devastatingly handsome, and has the ego to go with it. Standing at a little over six feet tall, Allan boasted a lithe, toned build. Broad shoulders and long limbs, several people have described his frame like that of panther or jaguar, agile and strong.
Claiming to be half Caucasian and half Mesoamerican, Allan boasts bright blue eyes and a strong, masculine face, and swarthy, exotic complexion. His facial features are angular and sharp, giving him the appearance of a predator. For hair, he prefers to keep his thick, curly black locks cut fashionably short, long enough to run his long fingers through them, a mannerism he is infamous for.
Today, he was wearing an ensemble very similar to what a younger, hipper Larry King would wear. A pair of gray slacks, a polished pair of shoes, and buttoned white shirt, with a pair of black suspenders finishing the the outfit. He lounged in his studio chair as The Who invaded the airwaves. Taking a long drag of the cigarette clenched between his thin lips, Allan reflected on the events that brought him into this position.
It was the day after he was fired and banned. Sitting in his meager apartment, deciding which things to sell, he had received an unexpected visitor.
The gentleman at his door brought news that Allan admitted to be utterly preposterous? This guy, no older than he was, is his father? Ha! What a loony toon. However, after a demonstration of the visitor's dark powers, Allan found it difficult to at least deny that the man was who he said he was.
"Tezcatlipoca... The Smoking Mirror... Fucking A', my pop is a mythological asshole. Yay for me..."
His father had then imparted him with gifts. The first were more ethereal. Allan had always been charming, manipulative, handsome, witty and athletic, but after speaking with Tezcatlipoca, Allan became... more so. He didn't notice it himself, but he noticed how people would turn their heads, and how people would just let him do what he pleased to a certain extent. He noticed how his reflexes and movements had became quicker than his eye could register, and how he simply knew that things were going to happen mere seconds before they did.
The second set of gifts came in the form of two ancient, and seemingly useless, objects. One was a wooden paddle, with obsidian shards sticking out of it, supposedly some kind of Aztec sword or something. The second was another piece of obsidian, round and polished. Allan's father called it his 'mirror.'
"Yeah right." Allan played with the obsidian plate, a perfect circle five inches in diameter. Someone like Tezzy wouldn't give away his namesake mirror. No, this was a copy, Allan was pretty sure, as he took another drag of his cigarette. Either way, however, it did allow him control over certain abilities... strange powers drawn from the sun and the moon, allowed him to control darkness, tap into the mystical arcane mysteries, and even allow him some limited insight into the future. A powerful tool in his hands, indeed.
A glance to the clock, however, brought something very important to Allan's attention. His morning shift was over, and it was time for that young intern to take over. Day off, baby! God knows, Allan knew he could use one.
Since he had met his father, life had been a whirlwind of events and good luck. Sirius contacted him and asked if he wanted his own station, coast-to-coast. He would have to be a proper idiot to turn that down. Meeting people, celebrities and fellow reporters, it was exhausting.
"Oh, and scuffle with the monster last night was a bit of a hassle too."
With a yawn, Allan rose from his chair and pocketed the mirror, then after grabbing his wooden paddle thing (hauled about in a duffel bag). After checking if he also had his keys, wallet, phone and cigs, Allan found himself pleased, and moseyed out of the studio.
A few people would stop him, and ask where he was going, to which he would simply reply, "This is my station, isn't it? I'm taking the day off."
Before long, Allan found himself out on Manhattan's streets, taking another long drag of his second cigarette, an acceptable alternative to New York's polluted air, in the DJ's opinion. Now, the question was, where to go? Should he hail a taxi? Take a drive in the company car that he hates? "Hmm, no," Allan thought to himself, as he stood in the middle of New York's bustling mob. It was a lovely day for a walk.
Culture. Culture is a thing that all tribes of humanity have in common. While the culture may differ from tribe to tribe, the fact that culture exists remains the same. These differing cultures also have many things in common with one another, things undeniably human.
On of these things is Mythology. Since ancient times, human have always felt and believed that there was something greater than themselves, and certain individuals would be chosen among them to attain greatness. Mythology, the foundation of Culture.
There are many things that mythologies all over the world have in common. Probably the most infamous of these would be the idea of Divinity. Deities. The Gods and Goddesses of Lore. From Zeus to Tezcatlipoca, from Odin to Amaterasu, humanity has this tendency to imagine these ethereal spirits far greater than themselves. Is this a coincidence, that all these people start to imagine and then worship these figures? Most specialists in the field that the practice was a way for humans to explain the unexplainable before the miracle of modern science.
But then, how is that that so many people were so devoted to a rather clear idea of who these "imaginary people" were? And as helpful as science is, aren't there still things, still mysteries, that have no scientific explanation?
The truth is, the Gods and Goddesses of old exist, and have existed for thousands upon thousands of years. The story begins at the beginning of humanity, when primordial energies now known as the Titans created life on this little blue and green ball of a planet. Evolution soon created man, and the Titans reproduced amongst themselves. The primitive humans were fearful of the Titans, and their great, almost uncontrollable power. The Titans had no love for Humanity, they simply were, as rage consumed forces of nature.
Humanity would eventually become the Titan's downfall, however. Afraid, and wishing very much to survive, the humans, gifted with a glimmer of intelligence, began to pray. It was this act, and those thoughts, that reached the minds of the youngest of the Titans, who reacted, taking on human-like shapes. These new beings were born with sympathy for Humanity, and drew power from them, and thus became the first Gods. They fought against their forebears, and banished the Titans to the Underworld, where they were to stay forever trapped in their prison.
Time went on, and the Gods intermingled with Humanity harmoniously. The Gods gave humans technology, and enlightenment, while humans gave them love, an emotion the Gods basked in, and that the Titans were incapable of understanding.
But as time went on, the Gods started to notice a pattern. Events that happened once before were happening again in endless cycles. Stories of myth kept on repeating themselves, and the repercussions were damaging to the humans. Not wanting their people to be harmed anymore than they needed to be, the Gods, of every pantheon, made a pact;
They would stay in the Overworld, and only visit the Middleworld (or World, i.e. our Earth) while in disguises, and forbidden to use their god-like powers (little tricks here and there are fine, but nothing to gain too much attention).
And that's how it was. Eventually, the Gods who had isolated themselves, found that their worship had all but diminished into oblivion, and they had become little better than bed time stories.
Which brings us to the modern day. Deep in the Underworld, an unknown malefactor crept into the Titan's prison and released them. Filled with fury, the Titans swore vengeance on their descendants, and stormed the Overworld with unparalleled malice. The Gods, of course, were taken off guard, but were still strong enough to hold the Titans back. However, holding them back was close to all they could do. The primordial energies of the Titans were too strong for the Gods, who were no longer gaining as much power from human worship, and the Gods knew that the spawn of the Titans, what humans call 'monsters' would stir from their slumber and terrorize humanity once again.
It was time to come up with a plan and make a choice. Gods would return to the World, and couple with Mortals as they did eons ago (for some reason, mortals are more fertile with deities than deities are with themselves) and birth Heroes. New Age Heracles's and Gilgamesh's. These godlings will fight the monsters of the World, and those worthy will rise in power until they become full-fledged Gods themselves. That way, the Gods can increase their own numbers, and stimulate worship to themselves.
This is a story of a group of those very godlings, how they will meet, and how they well mesh themselves into the weaving of Fate.
---------------
Rules
I'll keep it brief and simple. The Scions (also called heroes) do have special powers and super-human abilities associated with their divine parent, but I trust that you won't go too overboard. If you're a Scion of Zeus, for example, yeah, I expect you to have some lightning powers and be able to lift up a truck, but lifting a truck over your head will be a tough thing to do at first, alright? ;3
Speaking of the divine parents, any mythology is fine, as long as it's, like, an existing mythology. If I can find it on wikipedia, it's probably fine. :3
As for characters, no specific profile is needed, just a paragraph describing what your character is about. Things that should be covered are: Name, age, divine parent, a general overview of your born powers and abilities, and a detailed backstory. You can post this paragraph in your first post if you wish, but I won't. I'll just do a little blurb like I did with my character below.
Oh, and be sure to PM them to me. ;3
---------------
Characters
Allan Calavera; Scion of Tezcatlipoca; Controversial Radio Host; Played by Gentle_Incubus
----------------
Allan Calavera
"Good morning, grimy Manhattan! I hope you've all slept well, God knows I haven't, with all those police sirens blaring outside my apartment. Those of you from the area know what I'm talking about. Good Lord! It's not like they were dealing with a fucking gang war or something. Not like the one that happened conveniently on the other end of town. Funny thing that, our brave boys in blue, almost every squad car in the city, hounding down a single clown that decided to hold up a liquor store, while, oh what was the number? Right, over 50 innocent bystanders were injured in the uninterrupted scrap aforementioned. Good job, guys, good to see my tax dollars at work. At two in the morning. Thank you for the opportunity, really.
"And now, how about some music..."
Welcome to another day of Sirius's newest radio station, Crossbones. Officially a rock station, and formerly a local station, Crossbones it Jockeyed by a one Allan Calavera, who just so happens to be the reason why Crossbones is no longer allowed on the FM.
Simply put, Calavera was a bastard. For every rule there is on the radio, Calavera had been taken off the air five times for each. Aggressive to a fault, Calvarea had very quickly become a vocal activist and cynic, openly criticizing political policies and even just people in general. Critics and reviewers, at one point or another, had all called him an 'attack dog,' because once he bit on to something, he wouldn't let go. On the radio, he was balls out, and he wouldn't have it any other way. So, Calavera was taken off the air for a time, and supposedly banned from the airwaves.
The problem was, he was immensely popular, and if you met him, there would be no question why.
On the air, there was no question that Allan was charming. With a voice soft as silk, and a wit sharp as obsidian, Allan Calvera was well learned and well informed. It was clear that he boasted a quality education, and a firm sense of integrity and confidence. Most people assume that he uses the radio as an outlet for his aggression, and that in person, he is actually rather meek. After a few public appearances, however, that rumor was put to rest.
The 27 year old Allan Calavera was, without a doubt, devastatingly handsome, and has the ego to go with it. Standing at a little over six feet tall, Allan boasted a lithe, toned build. Broad shoulders and long limbs, several people have described his frame like that of panther or jaguar, agile and strong.
Claiming to be half Caucasian and half Mesoamerican, Allan boasts bright blue eyes and a strong, masculine face, and swarthy, exotic complexion. His facial features are angular and sharp, giving him the appearance of a predator. For hair, he prefers to keep his thick, curly black locks cut fashionably short, long enough to run his long fingers through them, a mannerism he is infamous for.
Today, he was wearing an ensemble very similar to what a younger, hipper Larry King would wear. A pair of gray slacks, a polished pair of shoes, and buttoned white shirt, with a pair of black suspenders finishing the the outfit. He lounged in his studio chair as The Who invaded the airwaves. Taking a long drag of the cigarette clenched between his thin lips, Allan reflected on the events that brought him into this position.
It was the day after he was fired and banned. Sitting in his meager apartment, deciding which things to sell, he had received an unexpected visitor.
The gentleman at his door brought news that Allan admitted to be utterly preposterous? This guy, no older than he was, is his father? Ha! What a loony toon. However, after a demonstration of the visitor's dark powers, Allan found it difficult to at least deny that the man was who he said he was.
"Tezcatlipoca... The Smoking Mirror... Fucking A', my pop is a mythological asshole. Yay for me..."
His father had then imparted him with gifts. The first were more ethereal. Allan had always been charming, manipulative, handsome, witty and athletic, but after speaking with Tezcatlipoca, Allan became... more so. He didn't notice it himself, but he noticed how people would turn their heads, and how people would just let him do what he pleased to a certain extent. He noticed how his reflexes and movements had became quicker than his eye could register, and how he simply knew that things were going to happen mere seconds before they did.
The second set of gifts came in the form of two ancient, and seemingly useless, objects. One was a wooden paddle, with obsidian shards sticking out of it, supposedly some kind of Aztec sword or something. The second was another piece of obsidian, round and polished. Allan's father called it his 'mirror.'
"Yeah right." Allan played with the obsidian plate, a perfect circle five inches in diameter. Someone like Tezzy wouldn't give away his namesake mirror. No, this was a copy, Allan was pretty sure, as he took another drag of his cigarette. Either way, however, it did allow him control over certain abilities... strange powers drawn from the sun and the moon, allowed him to control darkness, tap into the mystical arcane mysteries, and even allow him some limited insight into the future. A powerful tool in his hands, indeed.
A glance to the clock, however, brought something very important to Allan's attention. His morning shift was over, and it was time for that young intern to take over. Day off, baby! God knows, Allan knew he could use one.
Since he had met his father, life had been a whirlwind of events and good luck. Sirius contacted him and asked if he wanted his own station, coast-to-coast. He would have to be a proper idiot to turn that down. Meeting people, celebrities and fellow reporters, it was exhausting.
"Oh, and scuffle with the monster last night was a bit of a hassle too."
With a yawn, Allan rose from his chair and pocketed the mirror, then after grabbing his wooden paddle thing (hauled about in a duffel bag). After checking if he also had his keys, wallet, phone and cigs, Allan found himself pleased, and moseyed out of the studio.
A few people would stop him, and ask where he was going, to which he would simply reply, "This is my station, isn't it? I'm taking the day off."
Before long, Allan found himself out on Manhattan's streets, taking another long drag of his second cigarette, an acceptable alternative to New York's polluted air, in the DJ's opinion. Now, the question was, where to go? Should he hail a taxi? Take a drive in the company car that he hates? "Hmm, no," Allan thought to himself, as he stood in the middle of New York's bustling mob. It was a lovely day for a walk.
