Summary: a bunch of ancient gods who can't stand each other at times, but can't operate without the others. A lot of them are based on opposites being balanced by each other, and opposites being two sides of the same coin.
Name: Tirvu/Ulitremvhh(Pronouciation: tire-voo/ (l)ull-it-trem-vah )
Title: Grief and Forgiveness(God of Misery and Happiness)
Gender: Genderless
Name: Xszlh(pronounciation: shill)
Title: The Lover of Chaos(god of chaos)
Gender: Fluid, can and will transform into anything. Male, female, neither, animal, abomination, name it, she's got it.
She invented bad puns. And boy howdy, is he proud of themself.
Name: Vzigs'h Ilxp(Vig-sith El-ex)
Title: Brother of The Descendents of Rocks(God of soil, rocks, earth, etc. NOT the God of life)
Gender: was born as a female, but took on the form of a man early in godhood.
Background
*A triplet with the Sister of Nature's Children, and Sibling of Stars
*constantly fighting with Uoldvi over what should rule the earth, dirt or flora.
*created by Nlgsvi Mzgfiv(below) so she could create the Earth.
*they are in love with the Protector of Mortality, Szwvh
Name: Nlgsvi Mzgfiv(Null-gi-suvi Meh-za-geh-fiv)
Name: Uoldvi(Old-divi)
Title: Sister of Nature's Children(Goddess of plant life. NOT God of life.
Gender: Male at birth, took on the form of a woman going into her goddesshood
Background:
*Created as a triplet with the Brother of The Descendents of Rocks, and the Sibling of Stars
*in a constant battle with her brither
*in love with the Protector of Mortality, Szwvh
Name: Zwirvm(changes name to Szwvh)
Title: Protector of Mortality
Gender: "MORTALITY HAS NO GENDER YOU UNDEREDUCATED HDRMV"
Wloo's
Deans of Treasures(mini gods who protect honoured and treasures things)
Basically, these creatures are like tiny dolls made of yarn and straw. They are made by mortals and used to protect posessions. They often become attached to children, and lots will make themselves more appealing in order to become a friend of the child.
Language:
A=z
B=y
C=x
D=w
E=v
F=u
G=t
H=s
I=r
J=q
K= p
L=o
M=n
N=m
O=l
P=k
Q=j
R=i
S=H
T=g
U=F
V=e
W= d
X=c
Y=b
Z=a
One shots:
You're asleep most the time. You don't remember anything while you sleep, but you know you are. And you know, that you sleep for a very long time. Because when you wake, the location is different, so much different, but, like all the other times you are woken up involuntarily, it's also the same.
Because when you wake, it's wreckage.
But this isn't something that hurts you. In fact, it makes you excited. It means it's time for work. And so, you do. You stand up, glancing at where you rose from the ground. There's a mud puddle there. If you stand still there'll be one where you're standing.
But it's not raining. In fact, you've awoken in a desert. In an ancient civilization. Or at least, those reading would call it ancient. Its just the norm for you. As you walk along the torn,and devastated battlefield, you sing quietly. The bodies sink into the ground, taken by the goddess of death. The ground repairs itself, and grass starts to grow. Time speeds up. You regard the three gods with a nod. You look upon the shocked survivors, and your many arms reach. You touch them, and they begin their descent, sinking in the grief you have to them, so they may be happy again.
And here is your favorite part. As you walk to the end of the battlefield, you see him. Streaked with blood, still screaming a battlecry, that will last, until you stop him. But you always will. You wouldn't ever leave him there. Not even of duty called for it.
So you walk behind him, and you put your hand on his shoulder. His battlecry lessens, and up close, craning a neck, you can see the tears make clean paths down a dirty face. You smile sweetly at him, and you come to his front. You move the hair from his eyes, standing on tip of your toes.
"Tirvu..."He mutters your name, and you smile.
"Its me, my dearest dziirli. The battle is over, so stop being so loud."
"Did I wake you, wvzi?" He suddenly becomes so worried. How funny. He kills thousands of without a tear not of joy, but worries about an immortal's sleep.
"Its what youre supposed to do, Iztv. Now, lower that proud head. Let's go home."
And he takes your small in his monstrous one, and you walk from battlefield with him. Grief, you, has settled in, and has left with war.
--
Vnnir and the Wloo.
There was
