Which God Chooses You?

Which God chooses you?

Rot, the God of What Remains

She has mushrooms growing between her gnarled fingers, her skin blackened and loose from her body. Every candle gutters and dies as her dark mass pools beneath you. When she rises, it is with the odour of the swamps. Her eye sockets are empty, yet still her gaze rakes through your very soul. "Oh, my dear." Her muddy voice bubbles and froths. "I call you to a harsh life. They will hate you for what you are. Death-keeper. Worm-eaten. Maggot-crawler. But even the gods die." She raises a filth-ridden finger to your forehead and paints her mark - a dirt streak, right to left, cold and clammy against your skin. "Life brings death, and death brings decay. Natural as the fallowing of the fields." Her mouth is a black pit, toothless yet still grinning. You feel your skin growing cold, clammy; tears break out across your skin, yellowed bone poking through, but there is no pain. Just a muddy dampness. "Ssh," she says, holding her finger to your lips. "You are mine, now."

If you think you could beat this woman in a quickdraw & accuracy in any of her verses;

I have news for you.

𝐆𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫. 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫. Ṣ̸̀o̷̖̒ul̴̖̃s̴n̶̔at̸c̴̍h̵̥͝e̸̾r.̷̺̑

𝓓𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝐨𝐫 𝕯𝖆𝖒𝖓𝖊𝖉; D̵̰̘͗͐e̸͚͑͆ȃ̶̆͐̆t̵̀̐̎ḩ̴̨̬̀ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥.

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫

+𝟏𝟖 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐎𝐂 & 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲, 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦, 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚. 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥-𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐯𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞; 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭.

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐧: death personified, self exile in order to protect others, effects of solitude, a past that was left behind but resurfaced viciously, tremendous amount of power and potential purposely kept locked away, yet an another Véghváry who has no idea she's been cursed, wicked great marksmanship, buried six feet under but the coffin is already empty, unique way of dealing with souls, the neutral harbinger, the lone rider, swift justice

♡ /↻ 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡'𝐬 𝐖𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭

𝓓𝓪𝓶𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝓙𝓪𝓼𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓮

“I like this look on ya.” voice thick with satisfaction and heavy with something she couldn't quite describe. Sadism? Desire?

“The currency was mentioned, assassin. Getting a little scattered with all the contracts?” she stabbed oh so melodically and with a hint of cruelty- where does it keep coming from? She was no longer like this, not the way she used to lead dozens, hundreds into the death of their own ego with the right words and actions at the perfect time.

“Ah so we went from Creeps, Criminals to Creatures; congratulations.” ink lips chuckled while she listened; of course she did

Impressive profile so far, proving how the mighty can fall when they meet with someone both skilled and equipped. She wasn't going to deny that. Although Karma didn't feel talkative enough about her work both past and present, how her touch decayed even astral feathers. However the first one mentioned refused to leave her mind.

“Hold the dick measuring contest for a few minutes, I'm curious and want to see something. No, it won't hurt.” Karma refused to elaborate further, their shadows already overlapping. Green vanished from her eyes, leaving behind a gently swirling cloud gray color

Rot. Everywhere. Devoid of life, the ground is also dead, decomposing. Air thick with something ancient and dangerous. The decay feeding a single monolith soaked in old, familiar curse. Bones of the unfortunate thinking about shelter or attempting to end the reign of unseen terror. It was following him now closely, looming over him from behind, hiding in plain slight, staying within reach. A blinding flash but it was only a ruse. Death was here, more suffocating than ever. Too many eyes staring, piercing through soul and hungry, famished. A life saving reflex, each holy bullet finding a damned soul in the cluster of them. Mock retreat. Blessed energy fighting with all consuming decay but slowly overcame, snuffed out. A watch, a medallion gone from the cursed ground, picked up by gloved hands. Nothing changed in the atmosphere nor about the remains of once was a forest. A spin back to the heart of the abyss; all is connected. Eyes and a grin. Aged, ragged brown hair with bone white strands. Eyes staring right at her-

“What the fuck was that” her voice more winded than planned; why did she ask when she knew and felt. Karma being thrown out of a memory has never happened before, nor did it ever show something the other didn't see. And it would've been impossible for him to not notice. Leaving the only possibility that it knew Karma was watching.

“Our shadows overlap. When that happens I can look into memories; only see what you saw, don't feel what you did, don't know what you thought. Just look.” she explained that part hurriedly and not giving a fuck about how intrusive it was to do so without asking

“The dead forest. That's not over.” was she horrified because she recognized her powers or rather, what would happen if she let it run rampant and free as it wanted to since her death? Yet he was immune.

“The watch. You still have it. That's why my passive powers don't hurt you. You carry death in your fucking pocket you fool.”

One mystery solved in a way that raised thousand more questions and just as many concerns.

“Where is that place. I was thrown out of the past when that thing looked at me. At the end when you turned back to the building. I need- I have to go there.”

An airy laugh carried by breeze, or rather by shadow.

“No no Cowboy, I'm talking about criminals.” she whispered into his right ear, the smirk evident in her voice before her body turned into seafoam mist and whirled to his left side

“You're talking about creeps, some asshole who flashed the florist lady, an unlucky bastard caught in the wrong woman, some son of a bitch trying something with the wrong daughter.”

“The real deal, now those end up pissing themselves in the final moments instead of an getting erect. At least when I deal with the problem.”

Actually it's a recurring Véghváry thing™

Rozy has no idea about modern slang and their meaning, will misuse/mix them in the worst ways possible. She's slowly losing a grip on newer/evolving Hungarian ones, you can imagine how she is with English.

Karma is extremely confused about most Pride stuff & doesn't understand what 'straight' means in that context. For her it means a respectable, honest person, she knows the 'norm' as heterosexual.

Cindy has absolutely no grip on what considered normal due to her insane level of power. That creating a dress out of stars is an everyday trick for her instead of a whatthefuck how is that even possible?? thing

Raia has no shortcomings. She did, does and will do her research to keep herself ahead of the game, as she always had done so.

how do you need to be loved?

like the snow melts

you need to be loved patiently. you need to feel the love slowly creeping in, a warning, a way to back away if you’re too scared. you need to be loved cautiously, as if you’re fragile. you need to be loved gently, because love is messy and muddy and makes your socks wet and hurts if the sun gets too close. but you need to let yourself be loved, because when you do, it’ll feel like spring.