video; might as well get this pantheon started

[bastardofipswich]

[ Here's a teenager, holding his phone up to record himself as he lounges in his kickass new throne. Really, he's practically draped across it, legs dangling over the arm. What can be seen of the temple around him is... dimly lit and sparsely furnished. But he grins, looking totally self-satisfied, with the kind of obnoxious smugness that 18 year olds are particularly adept it projecting.

His eyes go black as the torches' flames flare up in size and intensity. ]

Bow down, bitches. The mortal coil's about to make a biiiiig comeback.

[ GRIN.

...

There's a bit of an awkward pause as he cranes his neck to look around. ]

So who the hell-- [ Does he own Hell now? HEH. Yeah, he has to pause to snicker. ] --knows anything about interior decorating? This place needs a serious makeover. [ Chase needs a makeover while we're at it. He's projecting 'high school student' instead of fearsome death god. ]

Comments

[bastardofipswich]

I'm not-- no! [ With a scowl, his eyes shift back to their normal blue as the flames in the torches die down to normal... flame levels. ] If I was an animal, I wouldn't be a seal!

[ Are you sure, Chase? BLACK EYES, ADORABLE BABY FAT FACE, LOVES TO SWIM... ]

[nevermorethroppish]

[ To be fair, Chase, he may be part dragon. Time dragon, specifically, or it's all just some sort of overfluffed metaphor involving magic and creation. Unfortunately, his author either tells you nothing or tells you fourteen things, at least ten of which might be true, three of which probably are even if they contradict one another, and the last one is literally just because the language was pretty. All the same, his blood's the wrong color, plummy instead of rust-colored, so maybe he's part Klingon. Who knows. His canon's technically fanfic anyway. ]

Well, no. Because you're talking. Which is why you'd be an Animal. Or a part-Animal, I suppose. A Seal. A Seal-ing.

Appropriate given your question, though.

[ There is a faint difference in how he says the word, a Capital Letter sort of difference that's audible if your ear is trained for such a thing, or perhaps if you're listening for it.

Wait, did he just- ]

God of Death, you said? I suppose that depends on how you look at death.

[bastardofipswich]

[ Chase narrows his eyes and tilts his head as he listens, like he's TRYING to make out those capital letters. ]

Did you just imply my mom screwed a seal? Oh-- hang on, sorry, a Seal.

[nevermorethroppish]

[ The thing about talking to an Ozian is that in most conversations, they are 40% ridiculous, 30% off-offhandedly insulting, 25% confusing, and roughly 5% thoughtful. ]

Well, it could have been your father, of course.

You haven't answered the question about death, though. Which is much more important than your parentage, considering your current position.

[bastardofipswich]

What about death? [ SORRY BUT HE'S ALL TURNED AROUND NOW, and his mind is on seals and other marine wildlife. ] I am the God of Death.

[nevermorethroppish]

[ Well, the god of sea creatures is still open, if that is of more interest. Liir certainly won’t judge him. Going from the Grim Spectre to the most exalted Dolphin Wrangler in the land is... well, you should follow your happiness, or so he would say. ]

Yes, I didn’t lose my hearing recently. But death how?

[ He leans into the camera just a smidge.]

Are you the small, quiet death we all face when someone stands there, sure of themselves, and yet somehow knows nothing about you?

The grand, bombastic death of the heroic who may only die once but who intend others to always remember them by it?

The simple, bittersweet death that comes after a long full life? Or the short, simply bitter death of a tragedy in only one act?

Are you death as the poets call it, heat and friction and pleasure beyond mortal perception, beyond mortal means, small and short and private in a world made of only two?

Are you death the release or death that clasps and drags you down?

[ His eyes are very green.]

It’s important.

[bastardofipswich]

[ CONGRATULATIONS, LIIR: you have officially put more thought into this than Chase has. ]

Now, doesn't that depend on the ones doing the dying?

[ Though, that does get Chase thinking. He's not exactly... good... at small and quiet. Or simple and bittersweet. The big deaths, explosive and exciting, that's more in his wheelhouse. Chase chews on his lower lip thoughtfully, brow creasing. ]

I don't have to be all of those things for everyone, do I?

[nevermorethroppish]

Whatever you will be as god of Death, it should be a decision. And not an accident.

[ That was his main point, really. Because gods aren't just about power. Gods are also about responsibility. About worshippers. About making the world work the way people need it to. ]

You don't have to be anything. But you should be Something.