xayah.
i return stronger than i left
❝The Earth is littered with the ruins of empires that believed they were eternal.❞
And behind each and every one of those empires was a belief in divine protection from their almighty gods. Millennia of reverence, sacrifice, and even fear in order to curry favor with all-powerful and all-knowing deities. How these kingdoms would cry and tremble if they saw what had become of their gods and goddesses now.
Perhaps it was because, much like the foolish humans they presided over, gods also felt themselves eternal—blessed with immortality and unimaginable power. Fate was always a fan of irony though, especially the cruel kind. As the years, decades, and centuries passed, faith waned, replaced by any explanation that could be described as scientific. There was no need for divine intervention if humans could learn to manipulate the elements themselves, and they did.
Just like the empires of history, death came slowly. They were first forgotten, with names only mentioned in passing or the most academic of classic papers. As the spelling became more and more distorted, with their true names becoming more and more buried, the gods soon lost control of their powers. For a while, what came after the loss of powers was unknown, but when the first death came, each and every member of the pantheon felt it. Then, the next. And the next. And the next. Until only a handful remained, waiting for the end and wasting away in all different corners of the world.
However, rumors of a sanctuary for lost immortals have arisen. Reportedly located in the city of dreams, New York, the remaining members of the pantheon have begun to flock to the metropolitan heaven—all for different reasons. Some seek a last rendezvous—to go out with a bang as the youth call it—while others hope, if not pray to whatever created them, for a way to live. No matter the reason, all that's certain is that whenever the pantheon reunites, men will tremble. Death should, too.
And behind each and every one of those empires was a belief in divine protection from their almighty gods. Millennia of reverence, sacrifice, and even fear in order to curry favor with all-powerful and all-knowing deities. How these kingdoms would cry and tremble if they saw what had become of their gods and goddesses now.
Perhaps it was because, much like the foolish humans they presided over, gods also felt themselves eternal—blessed with immortality and unimaginable power. Fate was always a fan of irony though, especially the cruel kind. As the years, decades, and centuries passed, faith waned, replaced by any explanation that could be described as scientific. There was no need for divine intervention if humans could learn to manipulate the elements themselves, and they did.
Just like the empires of history, death came slowly. They were first forgotten, with names only mentioned in passing or the most academic of classic papers. As the spelling became more and more distorted, with their true names becoming more and more buried, the gods soon lost control of their powers. For a while, what came after the loss of powers was unknown, but when the first death came, each and every member of the pantheon felt it. Then, the next. And the next. And the next. Until only a handful remained, waiting for the end and wasting away in all different corners of the world.
However, rumors of a sanctuary for lost immortals have arisen. Reportedly located in the city of dreams, New York, the remaining members of the pantheon have begun to flock to the metropolitan heaven—all for different reasons. Some seek a last rendezvous—to go out with a bang as the youth call it—while others hope, if not pray to whatever created them, for a way to live. No matter the reason, all that's certain is that whenever the pantheon reunites, men will tremble. Death should, too.
❝The self is not so weightless
Nor whole and unbroken
Remember the pact of our youth❞
A wretched thing it is. To watch yourself flicker and fade into nothingness, your name erased from the history books, your face scraped off of paintings. You’ve simply ceased to exist,
You are nothing.
Your eyes fall to a close as the world around you crashes and burns, a salty tear runs down your cheek.
Everything is crashing into ruins and soon, you will too.
And yet, you can’t help but think back to a time when it was all different.
The Great Gods once ruled heaven, hell and everything in between. They were as feared as they were adored; beaming as they stood upon their pedestals, chests puffed out, shoulders back. They were the ones who’d given pride a name, an essence.
And for years they’d waltzed around, leading their followers into fortune or ruin, casting bets and making rendezvous all in good fun.
Never- not once had they expected this.
For so long mortals were like children to them, crying and throwing tantrums until they were fed, clothed and bathed. For so long they were helpless, a wide-eyed doe in a foreign land.
Until they weren’t.
It was the smell. This faint smell of smoke and sulfur that began to ruminate through their plains. Industrialization. Factories. They were evolving- or perhaps they always had been, they just failed to notice until it was too late. Until the first had fallen.
Whispers, both frantic and frightened had rung through every ear, every corner and crevice until there were none left.
They watched as their friends, lovers and pets began to fade right before their very eyes, dissolving from reality as they knew it.
The mouths that once spoke with skepticism were the mouths that now quivered with fear, with grief.
Oh how the mighty have fallen.
And so the sob story goes-
With no home to return to and no hope in their hearts, they were completely alone, forced to relocate and live alongside the same mortals that had betrayed their faith; had abandoned them in light of their own greed. They were no longer gods but mayhaps a lowly barista - a shabby street vendor, a librarian. For they were hidden in plain sight, trying to survive like every other starving artist in New York City. Tired and poor. What a way to go.
Needless to say life had become- if not not worthwhile than at least miserable, it was hard being happy in a world that wasn’t your own.
Though the more fortunate ones had found the sanctuary from the get-go, spreading the word and searching for others like them from all around the globe, unaware that this fading wasn’t their only problem.
It seemed that these mortals had grown so lazy that they needed an aid even for faith. To be told what to believe and how. Only this time, they were staring at a screen rather than the sky.
|RISE. Welcome to City of Dreams! Essentially, you will be playing gods and goddesses that have become incredibly weakened over time due to humans having little to no faith in their existence or intervention in the natural world. As they slowly die out one by one, the remaining gods decide to take refuge in New York City after hearing about a sanctuary started by one of their own. This roleplay will center on our dieties dealing with having to face death as a supposedly immortal being, trying to reignite human belief in their existence and past relationships with their fellow gods, and fighting against the rise of a new and much more modern pantheon.
Nor whole and unbroken
Remember the pact of our youth❞
A wretched thing it is. To watch yourself flicker and fade into nothingness, your name erased from the history books, your face scraped off of paintings. You’ve simply ceased to exist,
You are nothing.
Your eyes fall to a close as the world around you crashes and burns, a salty tear runs down your cheek.
Everything is crashing into ruins and soon, you will too.
And yet, you can’t help but think back to a time when it was all different.
The Great Gods once ruled heaven, hell and everything in between. They were as feared as they were adored; beaming as they stood upon their pedestals, chests puffed out, shoulders back. They were the ones who’d given pride a name, an essence.
And for years they’d waltzed around, leading their followers into fortune or ruin, casting bets and making rendezvous all in good fun.
Never- not once had they expected this.
For so long mortals were like children to them, crying and throwing tantrums until they were fed, clothed and bathed. For so long they were helpless, a wide-eyed doe in a foreign land.
Until they weren’t.
It was the smell. This faint smell of smoke and sulfur that began to ruminate through their plains. Industrialization. Factories. They were evolving- or perhaps they always had been, they just failed to notice until it was too late. Until the first had fallen.
Whispers, both frantic and frightened had rung through every ear, every corner and crevice until there were none left.
They watched as their friends, lovers and pets began to fade right before their very eyes, dissolving from reality as they knew it.
The mouths that once spoke with skepticism were the mouths that now quivered with fear, with grief.
Oh how the mighty have fallen.
And so the sob story goes-
With no home to return to and no hope in their hearts, they were completely alone, forced to relocate and live alongside the same mortals that had betrayed their faith; had abandoned them in light of their own greed. They were no longer gods but mayhaps a lowly barista - a shabby street vendor, a librarian. For they were hidden in plain sight, trying to survive like every other starving artist in New York City. Tired and poor. What a way to go.
Needless to say life had become- if not not worthwhile than at least miserable, it was hard being happy in a world that wasn’t your own.
Though the more fortunate ones had found the sanctuary from the get-go, spreading the word and searching for others like them from all around the globe, unaware that this fading wasn’t their only problem.
It seemed that these mortals had grown so lazy that they needed an aid even for faith. To be told what to believe and how. Only this time, they were staring at a screen rather than the sky.
|RISE. Welcome to City of Dreams! Essentially, you will be playing gods and goddesses that have become incredibly weakened over time due to humans having little to no faith in their existence or intervention in the natural world. As they slowly die out one by one, the remaining gods decide to take refuge in New York City after hearing about a sanctuary started by one of their own. This roleplay will center on our dieties dealing with having to face death as a supposedly immortal being, trying to reignite human belief in their existence and past relationships with their fellow gods, and fighting against the rise of a new and much more modern pantheon.
1. The basic no drama, bigotry, etc! Just be nice!
2. No OP characters or Gary/Mary sues. They're supposed to be weak shells of their former selves power-wise.
3. 1 post per week frequency! We can give extensions and are 1000% understanding, but you have to let the deputy and I know in advance!
4. This is a literate to advanced literate roleplay. Give us at least 2-3 paragraphs per post and make them chef's kiss please.
5. Two characters per person! There is no roleplayer limit as we will only be choosing who we feel can bring the most to the story!
6. 18+ only! Sorry to everyone under, but most of the users on this site are 21 and over!
7. Discord is a requirement! It's super convenient for real-time plotting and communication.
8. And as always,
.V1LLAINISM._
& I have final say on all matters! Please let us know if you have any questions or want to do something before you do it.
2. No OP characters or Gary/Mary sues. They're supposed to be weak shells of their former selves power-wise.
3. 1 post per week frequency! We can give extensions and are 1000% understanding, but you have to let the deputy and I know in advance!
4. This is a literate to advanced literate roleplay. Give us at least 2-3 paragraphs per post and make them chef's kiss please.
5. Two characters per person! There is no roleplayer limit as we will only be choosing who we feel can bring the most to the story!
6. 18+ only! Sorry to everyone under, but most of the users on this site are 21 and over!
7. Discord is a requirement! It's super convenient for real-time plotting and communication.
8. And as always,
.V1LLAINISM._
& I have final say on all matters! Please let us know if you have any questions or want to do something before you do it.
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