Fxllenpythia - Sinner

“You forget, brother,” Pythia spat, unwilling to allow him the space to belittle her - to discredit the work she’d done and assume her blind to all else. Would she have made it this far, had she underestimated those that would see her gone? “Nothing is as it was before.” The Asphodel held the upper hand - the death of a God, the Druids in mourning, and the truth of what would befall this city - this realm, still to come to light. The fact of the matter was - and always would be, the blessed cared to much for all that it would cost to prevent her from bringing about the end. It was how they were built; pieced together by their ever careless father to believe that what they held in their hearts mattered, when so clearly they’d been shown otherwise. 

Her tongue clicked loudly against the back of her teeth, the smirk that formed coiled around it in sardonic nature as she cast a coy look up at him. “The only cage will be yours, perhaps I’ll do a better job of locking it behind you than Apollo did for me.” And with little more than the blink of an eye, her form dissipated into shadow, the coiling tail of a serpent twisting the darkness until it too disappeared.

/end

fxllenpythia​:

“Oh, but it does.” She quipped back rather happily, “I have not had to take everything I have, despite what you and the others may seek to believe.” Numerous, were the number of those who had handed over their power to further bolster her own. The book and all they offered was not all tainted. “Why should I not be confident, brother? You are in a tailspin, and the fact that you can only lecture me now is more than enough proof.” Saccharine, her tone fell, thick and sweet as honey as it dripped; lacquering each word like tar. “And yet here I stand, despite it.” Despite the inferno that her own siblings had left her to, “I have not suffered forgiveness nor mercy from you for an eternity, I certainly don’t seek it out now, nor shall I. Who exactly are you trying to convince, Uriel?”

☨

“You underestimate the powerful forces building up against you day after day, sister… hubris will be your downfall, as it was before and as it will be.” Uriel smiled coldly, far too tempted to tell her that knew of a way to destroy the Necronomicon. For the first time, the idea was a tempting thing. Otherwise, he knew if he got involved with the process he would lose everything… Either him or Michael would. For Uriel wouldn’t allow their younger Blessed siblings to get involved.

“Go, return to your corrupted minions, Leviathan. I tire of looking at this false face of yours. When you’re finally ripped from this small vessel and thrown back into the cage where you belong… that will be the only time I will hope to see you again.”

Reservoir Dogs (1992) ⤷ dir. Quentin Tarantino

LANFEAR | The Wheel of Time - 2.06

Pythia

NAME/ALIASES. Leviathan, Python, Pythia AGE & BIRTH DATE. Prehistoric & Unknown SPECIES. Aspect GENDER & PRONOUNS. UTP AFFILIATIONS. Asphodel Coven OCCUPATION. UTP FACECLAIM SUGGESTIONS. Andrew Koji, Anya Taylor Joy, Benedetta Gargari, Berk Cankat, Brianne Tju, Kiowa Gordon, Cara Gee, Evan Mock, Conor Leslie, Lucien Laviscount, Josha Stradowski, Adria Arjona.

History

In the beginning they were known as Leviathan, among the first of Ulthar’s creations. Leviathan was an archangel that was born for war, a general in the armies of the divine that raged against the Old Gods that ruled the mortal realm. Centuries of conflict and grief punctuated the beginning of Leviathan’s life, it was when the final battle was won and the fighting was declared over that the archangel expected to reap the rewards that were promised to them - to live on the earth that they’d fought so long to inherit. When the fey came they brought with them the seasons, they brought the tides and the trees, all the things that would come to make the world beautiful and Titania promised this all on the condition that Ulthar lent his magic to hers and helped to create the first of mankind. Humanity. Born with free will but weak, breakable frames. Humans were to never know war or greed or pride, they were the jewels of Ulthar’s creation and the first of Titania’s children. When Leviathan’s father asked the angels to kneel - it was Lucifer who first refused. War was all Leviathan had ever known and when they fought next it was to earn the dominion that they already deserved, angels faced the fey of old back when they were still elves. The greatest of them fell, but it was Melpomene and her sisters that Leviathan drove back into the farthest reaches of the Otherworld, forgotten wind. Great as they were, the fallen were beaten and for their crimes The First, Oztalun, cast Leviathan into the Inferno - to the seventh circle where they came to go by a new name, Python.

Tiamat found them there, they whispered their plans for humanity and Python wove their influence into the heart of witches as the Inferno corrupted the fallen angel and gradually transformed them into a greater demon. Tiamat would come to be known by a new name as well, dread Persephone, true goddess of death, Python led her to the heart of the archdruid Netellia, deeming her weak and susceptible as the greater demon worked their way into the mortal realm via mass invocation. Though they were still weak, they held a blood pact that solidified their hold on all witches who invoked them for the power they offered. Through the necronomicon they were mae able to influence this world, every soul that was fed to it gave them more power, more influence. When one plan fell through another bloomed in its place, they were the great liar, the great deceiver, and they dwelt in the heart of all who looked to the dark for power. Pythia came as their final name, a title they earned as they ferried souls to the dark folds of the Asphodel, given form and power once again with the return of the ancient coven of darkness. Another mask, another lie, another name to hide behind. No one could see the dragon that lurked beneath, all the world against them - humans, angels, demons, witches, druids, fey, and still they would bring about the end. A revolution, the dawn of the new age, a return to a world of fire. The age of humanity would end and that of the forgotten would begin.

Connections

Octavian: Netellia died by Tiamat’s influence, but it was Python that felt the weakness in the archdruid’s heart. Octavian would come to blame Python for the corruption of his sister, and her ultimate death. 

Melpomene: In the war between the fallen and the divine, Leviathan defeated Melpomene and drove her back into the Otherworld, trapping her there for thousands of years. 

Michael: Siblings. Michael fought against Pythia during the rebellion and was part of the forces that condemned the fallen to the Inferno.

Abilities

Python: As a greater demon Pythia possesses all the powers of lesser demons: hellfire manipulation, telepathy, telekinesis, and the ability to shift into domestic animals. 

Fallen Archangel: Despite their connection being severed from the divine realm, Pythia is able to control the flow of magic, meaning they can turn any supernatural creature human, restore a chimera, heal feral vampires, and undo the packs they’ve made with blood witches. 

Immortal: Created from pure magic, Pythia is inhuman and cannot be killed. If their body is destroyed they will simply move on and possess another. 

Psychometry: As one of the fallen they’ve retained the power of psychometry, they can read the impressions left on objects, people, and places and establish a psychic link through this connection.

Weaknesses

Angelic: Hallowed ground burns their feet, as one of the fallen they’re incapable of stepping foot onto churches or graveyards. 

Demonic: Unable to cross salt lines, Pythia can be confined to a single form if they’re trapped within a circle of it.

Witches: All witches can sense the presence of the Pythia, blood witches in particular have made pacts with them under the guise of the greater demon Python and will know when they’re around. 

Possession: Does not have a form of their own, with permission they can possess the body of the living, or they can possess the body of the deceased. 

THIS SKELETON IS CURRENTLY CLOSED.

augustcavaliere​:

“No, no we won’t.” The senate would establish order in the city once more, their enemies would align, and then they would come for the coven. The Asphodel had invited them here and whether the senate knew it or not, they’d play right into their hands. “But, who’s hiding?” August asked rhetorically as he fixed his gaze upon the Pythia with equal parts awe and amazement, “I leave tomorrow to perform my final rite, effective immortality, my final pledge to the necronomicon.” The cost was substantial, so many lives would go noticed at a time like this, August had no choice but to perform it elsewhere away from the prying eyes of the senate and the marshals who would stand to intervene.

August had stood proudly at the Pythia’s side along with the Egotist and Lucretia when the Asphodel had proclaimed themselves responsible for the massacre at Halloween and devotedly sided with the architect who’d bring about the destruction of the status quo. Good. The witch had come to Rome to seek vengeance for his disappeared father, but in Erik’s absence he found only dead whispers and broken promises - Pythia had found him as a broken ruined thing and together they’d reunited the shattered necronomicon alongside the others.

There was no act that the witch would not throw himself into on the Pythia’s behalf, where there were some who may have doubted their supremacy August had always known the power behind the figure. From childhood’s hour Python had guided his hand, his blade, his magic, when he was cornered it was blood that had set him free. “The blessed… Their presence.” August had felt their arrival within the city, it was unmistakable. “How can we destroy them?” They had undoubtedly come here to put an end to their plans, to put an end to the Pythia, something August would never allow.

Still, the wickedness in her smile grew. Dripping with venom with the premise of a tantalizing sweetness as movements of a dancer drew her nearer the witch. Undoubtedly, she knew that none of them were so willing to hide any longer. The rise of the Asphodel was monumental; bringing about a world in those she sought after would no longer be forced to remain hidden. A world unto chaos. “Luckily, they’re fools and won’t notice their mistake until they’re already within our grasp.” Fickle, the minds of protectors - too busy with the offence to consider proper defensive strategy. It was, after all, how all else had fallen into their very laps. August had spoken to her many times about the ritual, about all it required and all that could come of it. The greatest of sacrifices to the Necronomicon - to her and the Goddess of True Death. Delicate features relegated his own now, silken tresses shifting as she tilts her head and reaches to brush fingertips beyond his ear, “I’ll be with you.” Regardless of where she was - she would be with all of them come their final rite.

Every so often; the turn of the century would bring to her a being or two that held a special place among those that served. Those that personified every ounce of fury and malice that she carried with her - born of Ulthar’s betrayal and Leviathan’s fury - August Cavaliere was one of those. “The Necronomicon knows’ what’s in your heart, I know you.” Far lesser men had sold their soul in it’s entirety. With frail drive and hollow machinations - but not August. “I look forward to seeing you upon your return.” In helping him to understand the full extent of the power it granted him; all that he could wield and all that he could burn in her stead. For all he’d given, her guidance and protection was deserved. “We’ll have much to discuss.” It was a feeling that he would undoubtedly come to recognize, where one followed - the rest were sure to follow, those tasked with hunting down the fallen and all those that stood in their way would not take lightly to Pythia’s resurgence. “I was wondering when you would begin to feel them. You must remember it, August. How it felt.” Too many would see him as little more than an outreach of her own power; and they’d be right. As long as the Asphodel continued to grow in power; so would she. “They can be banished, given the right tools and those willing to participate.” However, “Destroying one doesn’t come so easily, unfortunately.” Lips pursed tightly together and ran her tongue across her teeth indignantly, “The only way is with a seraph blade, wielded only by the divine themselves.” 

3,000 years pass and I'm back to this.

@adatiiel​ “You don’t see it as you’re never there at the end of their days, they’re nothing more then collateral damage to you but I am with all of them – there is not a soul that is wiped from this earth that is not known by me” Pythia’s heart had become lost long ago, enshrouded by the darkness that become her being, clouding out what once was good – now she only wanted destruction, darkness and death – Adatiel couldn’t escape her if she tried. The seraphim had been created from the cosmos to fight the first darkness that had blotted out the world and they had been called again to restore the natural order. “I won’t try to convince you to the goodness that exists within humanity, they are flawed and yet they still try to do better – you are not the creator of worlds and we won’t allow you to destroy the world completely” There is only one set of lips that she would listen to an order from, to bring about the end of the world will only be allowed by Ulthar.

The longer she spoke, the more tiring the whole exchange began to feel. The bleeding heart within her sister, however accepting of those she ushered beyond death, surely understood that such a burden could be wiped from her conscience were the mortals no longer upon this earth. Though, neither was Pythia so willing to offer the obvious argument to one who undoubtedly knew as much already. “Blah, blah, blah..” Her nose turned up in impatient disgust at the tirade offered to her, much like all those before. “And their constant attempts for better continue to be a let down, time and time again. How long should they be offered more chances to, as you say, better themselves? Or shall we watch for all eternity as they ponder the gift given to them and you... carry the weight of knowing each of them?” They’re menial, amounting to nothing in her eyes. “It’s been a long time since I’ve made decisions based on what any of you would allow me to do. It would better ease your disappointment if you simply stood aside.”

@adatiiel​

The smiley face was a clever move, one that brought a hitch of a smile to Adatiel's mouth even as their search turned up empty. Being the angel of death meant that she reaped everyone who fell, allegiance didn't matter when their days came to an end. She wasn't to fight, her hands didn't call for violence as she was the result of whatever came to be. Adatiel often satisfied her whims, whenever she wished to see someone she did. It was why she felt that a conversation with her wayward sister was long overdue. "Are you happy with the wraiths that you trapped within your walls? Spirits that remain and grow in vengeance can become a dangerous weapon. The spirits are very angry with you."

_

Was she? Happy? As if to make crystal clear, Pythia's smile grew to maniacal proportions, the feint giggle that slipped between her lips eerie at best, and horrifying in the shape it took. "Sister, don't take it so personally. If anything, you should be rather grateful that I led you right to them. The pesky little things." Those that lingered within the walls, wraiths that screamed endlessly, clawing at every sense of humanity that remained, every ounce of their blood riddled empathy had risen as a symphony in the halls of the Asphodel. "Angry? At me?" The pout that settled against porcelain skin feigned innocence that would never look quite right, "Then consider their anger a gift, in the efforts you and the rest of them should make to try and stop me. I daresay, you'll need it."

_

"I don't need your help to find the dead" what ego but Pythia did always carry one, spirits have always beckoned her and she is the angel that is there in the last moment of life. Adatiel was to not be confused with a guardian angel as she did not protect nor decide who lived and died, merely knew when their time had come to an end, when the hourglass had finally run out. Those that died while being tormented or moments of great emotional impact became wraths. As someone who holds death and life in equal care, it is difficult for the seraphim to accept such cruelty. "I wish to hear it from your lips sister, tell me how you wish for this to all end. Do you really wish for darkness to blot out the world?"

_

“No? You’ll have to forgive me for my lacking faith in your.. abilities.” For a millennia, so many of her kind - their kind had done little more than squalor their potential. Bending to the whims of a father who cared for lesser creatures before his own children. Sighing heavily, something more of contentment than anything else, the Pythia smiled quietly to herself. “And why shouldn’t it?” Tongue clicked against her teeth and the brunette eyed the other with irate mischief, cold and calculating - unyielding. “Because daddy dearest said so? They’ve done little but squander the world given to them. Destroyed and plundered a place they’ve never sought to earn. I say, - burn it all to hell.”

@sacrilcgiovs​ location: we’re out and about okay 

Although time didn’t exist as such a fickle imminence to Pythia, years had gone by since she’d last set foot upon the cobbled streets of Rome prior to October’s festivities. Every effort to deceive and thwart her brethren's efforts to find them over the centuries depicted the demonic fallen as little more than smoke between the fingertips of a child. And yet, every soul given over to the Necronomicon remained a connection held beyond all else. Seeking out one of the very first of the Asphodel had been akin to spotting blood on a pristine white surface, even amongst the crowd of the marketplace. Thoughts which circled his mind echoing across the void to her own until he just as surely felt her presence. “You’ve been a busy man, Kaan -- Narcissus, is it?” The playful tone in her voice just as easily menacing as she kicked out the wicker chair opposite her, hues barely flickering gesture that he sit. “Let’s catch up, shall we?”

"You're talking to the great deceiver, and foolishness has never been my downfall before." If the fact that she still stood - eons after she fell, after the plight of the old gods, the first destruction of the book. The greater demon was without a doubt, a plague upon the world of mortals and all those beyond. This was nothing new - rather, a new war, indeed. "Your concern is noted, but I sleep upon silken sheets of blood with the most wretched lovers at my beck and call - perhaps you're merely projecting." Her smile is wrought with tongue and cheek. Petty insults and proclamations do not make her waiver. "Is that what you want, Pluto - do you want to hurt me?" Again, where civil conversation cannot exist, Pythia exerts the goad in a rather childlike manner. "Agree to disagree then, shall we? Until you decide to use that bite for something other than clenching your jaw and brooding in darkened corners at least." A brow rose, defiant in nature, "I know what I want and what I deserve, that's all it comes down to."

"Don't be fooled, Pythia, words can be deceiving," and words can lead to false assumptions. Yes, he'd been all about love and loyalty, of keeping those he held dear safe, simply because of what happened to Cyra and how he'd failed her back then. Now, after the great war, technically but also not 15 years later, he saw Pythia as nothing more than an ambitious creature of immense hatred. What the world had to offer them would never be enough, what they desired would only lead to complete destruction. "I just think you need a good night's rest and get fucked nicely," he wasn't being serious, but a part of him just didn't care. "Kore's gone, I'm not opposed to hurting her allies," the original vampire shrugged. They could probably spew venom at each other for years to come, but Pluto didn't really desire to keep thinking about his captivity, his broken body and soul. "never lost it," in all honesty he was hungrier than ever, "and you? I see nothing can keep you down. How unfortunate."

It certainly wasn't the world in which she'd planned to release her brethren into, events of the end and all that Lilith kept from her certainly saw to that; alas, the deed was done and the blood that welcomed the archfiends lathered itself like milk upon the flesh of her host. "That was certainly not the intended outcome," and even those previously of hell itself, were prone to being blindsided; as if the original betrayal didn't come from their father, one in the very same, destroyer of Elysia. "All wasn't totally lost on him, devouring the lot of them is becoming more and more enticing." The great serpent, while seeking retribution towards their creator, could hold onto a semblance of humor in the news that he had swallowed each of the Blessed that remained above, whole. It was enough to unhinge her own jaw and paint herself a mirror image of Ulthar. "Their numbers dwindle," while those of the archfiend had only increased, "They so dearly wish to sacrifice in the name of this realm, and personally, I should like to let them." Ritual sacrifice, for the greater good.

@fxllenpythia location: Lake of Dis notes: thanks for the jailbreak u did gr8

Liars. Philanderers. Deceivers. Everywhere Ba'al went the dredges of this world were suffocating. Sardines packed so tight next to each other they might as well have stitched their bodies into one to save time, an act of convenience is what it'd be marketed as. Certainly gave him ideas, but while he was a devil he wasn't a sadist- that wasn't true, but he did prefer to watch rather than get his own hands dirty. The proximity of the realm above was one that he detested most of all, but for now he'd settle for letting the thirteen malebranche be his eyes and ears where he could not otherwise be. Then again, everyone was a liar these days.

"Elysia has fallen, Lucifer is King of-" there was a point to honestly, not that it mattered when it came from his lips, "nothing, for now. What are your plans for the seraphim that still remain? The ones our beloved father neglected to eat before he ran."