Rekindling

[-Seraphim-]

”Ugh! Ew! Seraphim exclaimed rather loudly as he drew up his foot, which was now covered in mud. He had accidentally stepped in a puddle of mud, having mistaken it for a solid piece of ground. His foot was now soiled, and this irritated him greatly. Throwing a fit about it wouldn’t help anything, but there was no one around to take care of it for him, and nothing near him with which he could clean it up. Well this was just completely gross. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t show up at his destination like this. It was just completely unfitting. Maybe there would be some water around here. . . .

Normally, there wouldn’t just be random water in the realms of the Gods. It would be in a controlled waterfall or lake somewhere, and most of all the water was somewhere near Nerina. And that was way too far away from here. But luckily for him, he had already wandered in to Iyzebel’s territory, and everything here was in complete chaos. So nothing was as it should be, meaning there was probably a little pool somewhere where he could clean this unsightly mess. After a few more minutes of hopping around, he found a trickle running down from an unknown place and flowing over some fallen rocks and pillars. It was barely anything, but with a little bit of effort Seraphim was able to wash the mud from his foot and make himself proper again. He was still in a slightly negative mood now, though. You never saw mud in his mansion. In fact, unless you were in Dimitriy’s place, you never saw mud up here at all. But of course Iyzebel would have some just layin around. Grouchy thing probably knew he was coming and put it right up in his path, being the goddess of discord and all. Just had to cause chaos in his path.

And of course, she would probably cause even more chaos for him along his way. Jeesh, she had a lot of space here. Did she just somehow cause some sort of rip in the space continuum? Would he ever get back to his mansion? He had a party planned soon. And there was just no way that he could not show up at one of his parties. It was unheard of! He hadn’t missed one in all the millennia he had lived. With that in mind, why was he even coming here? What could he want with Iyzebel? She hated his guts, and would probably end up trying to defile his awesome self, maybe even with things that couldn’t be fixed. Seraphim stopped in his tracks at that thought, but pressed onward after another minute, figuring he would need the goddesses help if he was ever gonna find his way back. He wasn’t even sure he was headed in the right direction now. There was no landmark, it was just a huge wasteland of broken buildings. The God’s mood descended a little bit further, and he began to sulk.

But soon, he managed to stumble upon a place where the rooms were larger, and it was in just a little bit more order. Seraphim assumed this used to be Iyzebel’s spacious mansion, one that rivaled even his own, but which now lay in almost complete disrepair. At least some of the walls were still standing here. But he had been here before, when it was still standing, so he knew the floorplan. And within a short time, he was standing in the entrance to the throne room, where he knew his former lover to spend her time. He didn’t even take the time to examine her surroundings, but focused entirely on her, half bracing herself for any form of aggression she could throw, and half taking in her beauty. It wasn’t as great as it used to be, and he had to admit that he was a little disappointing. But being a goddess, her beauty was still one to be reckoned with. And he couldn’t ignore that, even if he had seen better.

[( iyzebel )]

haven't you seen
haven't you seen the ruins of her world?

The goddess of mayhem had woken only moments ago, curled up in her own throne, in her crumbling castle. There was something very disturbing about the energy around the ruins. Naturally, Iyzebel would know when someone else's energy pierced through the dark energies already set in the destroyed castle. She didn't get many visitors; she hadn't in over thousands of years. When she did get one, it was usually a poor lost soul that was only trying to get back to the metropolis of the afterlife. She usually sadly regarded them, accepting defeatedly to show them the way back. She was the goddess of mayhem, but she took pity on those that got lost. For she knew what it felt like to be lost and alone.

But this energy was not one of a lost soul. This energy was greater, with more intent. Possibly still lost, but with potent energies... It almost felt like another deity. With that in mind, Iyzebel righted herself on her throne that was gigantic compared to her tiny frame. Her elbows didn't even reach the arms of the throne, making her look very stretched and uncomfortable if she did rest them. She preferred, rather, to sit with her arms at her sides and her small, fragile hands daintily in her lap. Her feet hung off the edge of her throne, not even close to reaching the floor several feet below. She really didn't know what she was thinking when she built this thing. Perhaps it was just her old ego; an ego that she had long since destroyed, along with every other scrap of evidence of her past.

However, the more Iyzebel thought about these energies in her territory, and the more she waited, the more she began to slouch back down. She had decided that it was definitely another deity, although most of them shunned her, so she didn't know why she would be getting a visitor. She looked absently up at one of the crumbling corners of her throne room, where the corner had worn away into a type of hole, and the sun shone its beams through. She couldn't tell what time of day it was, but in the deities' realm, all time was irrelevant anyway, so she didn't know why she wondered. Perhaps she was... nervous? Yes, that was the word.

By the time this intruder finally stepped his way into her throne room, Iyzebel had one leg draped over an arm of her throne, her back leaning up against the other arm. Her short black dress contrasted her sickly pale skin, and she accidentally showed off the skin of her inner thigh to this intruder; like she cared. This, of all positions, made her look truly tiny and out of place. But, as she saw who slithered their way into her presence, she could care less. Her gaze met Seraphim's as soon as he glanced at her, and her face showed no expression, even though her heart was beating with hatred. It wasn't a lot, nowadays that she could feel her heart beating; even when she tried her hardest to feel her pulse, all she felt was dead. And unlike the mortals that inhabited the earth below, she couldn't cut herself to see if she still bled. She wouldn't bleed anyway. At times, she doubted her existence.

But then there were times like these, when she felt alive and thriving, even if it was in hate. As the god of love slowly walked up to regard the goddess of discord on her throne, she eyed him down; until he got to his place in front of her. "And what have I done to deserve a visit from the notorious god of love and lust?" Sarcasm dripped harshly from her words, but her voice held its silky smooth quality, as she righted herself once again, crossing her legs. With one dainty swish of her hand, the door to the throne room slammed shut far behind the god, as if he was trapped in. But he was far from trapped, because the long, broken windows would allow anyone an escape.

[-Seraphim-]

As Seraphim looked toward the end of the rather large throne room, he saw a tiny figure lounging in a rather hug, uncomfortable looking chair. He knew Iyzebel was tiny and everything, and probably had some sort of complex that caused her to overcompensate for everything, but that throne was still ridiculously huge. The god of love was all for huge things, but come on. That thing was just unreasonable. This whole dang place was almost huge enough to be unreasonable, but his was even bigger. So he couldn’t really talk. And it wasn’t even filled with meaningful stuff, besides the kitchen. Everything else mostly consisted of beds and pillows and gems and everything else women liked.

But he didn’t really think about that now, because the one he had come to see was wearing a little black dress. Every male’s favorite article of female clothing. Y’know, besides lacy undergarments. But if he walked in on Iyzebel wearing those, then it would definitely be a dream. Not one he hadn’t had, by the way. When he actually slept, which was rare. Because he didn’t need to. But a long time ago, he actually had relationships once in a while. They didn’t really mean much, and didn’t stick around very long, but he would spend the occasional night holding some pretty young thing who had given him an exceptionally awesome night. That hadn’t really happened in a while, though. Not that he was complaining, though, because his current lifestyle was something any mortal he’d ever met would trade anything for. Even a lot of people who ended up here would go to great lengths for the carefree life he led.

She obviously wasn’t happy to see Seraphim, though, and slammed the throne room door shut upon noticing his arrival. Not that that would keep him from getting out, but it was a symbolic thing. He had a feeling she might try to kill him. Or harm him. Or throw something at him and disfigure him. She was the goddess of chaos, after all, and as such was very unpredictable. Not like she used to be. She used to rule over the outward appearance, of beauty. So that’s what she focused on. All the time. And the two had fit together like peas in a pod. But even gods were capable of change, and this one had completely redirected herself, even her appearance changing in to something terribly pretty, but scary at the same time. Not like those times when he would have given anything to go to bed with that beauty.

Obviously, she remembered those times too, as her voice practically materialized as words slid from her mouth and pooled in a puddle of sarcasm at her feet. Which would have been, you know, really creepy if it actually did that. But on some level Seraphim thought he would have preferred that phenomenon over the feeling that crawled up his spine at her sadistic words. It was plain to see that she still hated his guts, but at her words the thought just flew from his mind. He had always had a thing for the former goddess of beauty, probably because she had been that. And being a god, he wasn’t as easily subject to the changing whims and emotions that threw the mortals’ lives in turmoil. Without anything to drive it out, that passion for Iyzebel had remained dormant somewhere in him, and was now threatening to bubble up to the surface. Not in the “OH MY GOSH I MUST HAVE YOU, YOU’RE SO AMAZING” lovey kind of way. Just a physical attraction that made him a little nostalgic.

But he really couldn’t dwell on that, or else he might end up in a bad situation, because she never liked to be kept waiting for anything. But the god of love didn’t actually have an answer for the woman’s question, and had to think one up fast. What had he come for in the first place, anyway? “Oh, um, I was just, uh, having a party at my place later.” He informed her for seemingly no reason, with lack of eloquence in his words. Something that rarely ever happened. He was always a smooth talker, although he didn’t put as much effort in to words when talking to other gods, because he usually didn’t get them in his bed. And there was no way he would ever be going down that road with this one again, anyway. But still, it was out of character. “Just thought you might like to stop by.” He mumbled, unsure why he had said it, but not able to think of anything better.

[Hadwin]

Hadwin
_{their ain't gonna be heroes}

A monstrous white dragon stood on the edge of the chaotic ruins, his scales gleaming with wicked delight as a golden divine haze swirled around like smoke. Blood streaks, some fresh and others flaking, covered his body, giving him a distinctly grisly appearance. Yet their was something orderly and controlled about him that exuded incredible power and drew attention to the stillness of his figure. Crimson eyes with slitted pupils flashed over the landscape before him, noting the disorder and overall disrepair with cold dislike.He didn't fit in here.

No no, literally, he didn't fit.

The expression on the God of War's reptilian muzzle was one of extreme annoyance and grudging resignation as he regarded the crumbling entrance into the black abyss that counted as Iyzebel's castle. The grand doorway was clearly meant for more humanoid creatures, its broken and chipped crest only coming as high as his shoulder. It's just too- I mean- why the hell is it so small?! His mintcream leather lips lifted to reveal a terrible set of ebony fangs, a blood chilling growl rumbling from the depths of his chest. For a moment Hadwin seriously considered just barreling his way through the broken mess. However Iyzebel and himself already had their squabbling differences... no need to add another piece of weaponry to the petite goddess's list. She was one of the few goddesses that held a degree of respect from Hadwin, her volatile nature just as destructive as his own.

Although that wasn't always the case. His thoughts turned to past millenia as he was engulfed in a sudden bright haze, the dragon vanishing in the way of a smaller, more compact human. I used to dislike her most of all. Thankfully she got over that beauty phase. Having never been much of an appreciator for the more artistic domains of the gods, Hadwin had often had riotous disagreements with the previous goddess of beauty. But now... Although not very vocal about it, Hadwin was a strong supporter of Iyzebel's change from beauty to mayhem. At least chaos was useful.

Once his transformation was complete, Hadwin strode into the decrepit ruins and quickly made his way to the throne room with purpose that contrasted with the disorder. Glittering red eyes focused ahead, Hadwin navigated his away amongst the buildings and rooms with a strangely practiced eased. Occasionally he would have to pause and reorient himself, but for the most part he made sure his path to the throne room was efficient and expedient. Yet something troubled him as he drew closer and closer, a scowl marring his features as he picked out another aura besides the goddess's in her realm.

Apparently I'm not the only visitor.

Up ahead he heard a door slam, presumably the throne room, he quickly picked up a pace. He didn't even pause as he rounded a corner, saw the intricate door and blew it open, sending it banging on its hinges.

A brutish man, wild in appearance yet exuding the most precise level of control entered the room. Almost as wide as he was tall, the deity was nonetheless all iron-hard muscle and strength. Eyes the color of flames glowed in the gloom, shadowed by heavy ginger eyebrows and stubbornness. He wore a set of high-polished white plate armor, with gilded ruby trim, that echoed heavily when he walked. An empty scabbard was belted around his waist, one beefy hand resting just where a sword hilt would have been.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything..." Hadwin rumbled darkly, voice as rough and grizzled as the mane of ginger-and-white streaked hair on his head. He stepped forward, broad shoulders squared and eyes glittering with barely leashed power as he took in the mistress of the room and her company. The scowl on his face changed to a cruel grin when he spotted Seraphim, the god of the-stupidest-most-useless-and-disgusting-mortal-emotion. "Ah its you Seraphim. Well then it couldn't have been that important," he shrugged, not even bothering to wait and see how the other deity reacted before turning to Iyzebel.

Red eyes met shimmering pink. "I am, however, sorry if I intruded upon your time Iyzebel. And for entering your grounds without permission."

Hadwin
_{their ain't gonna be anythin'}

[( iyzebel )]

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[atrb=background,http://i860.photobucket.com/albums/ab164/SyndromeSyd/iyzebel3.jpg] Iyzebel regarded the god of love in front of her as if she were high above him. And in her mind, she was. Everyone else but her saw Seraphim as a sex idol, the most beautiful man they'd ever seen, and everyone instantly loves him. The goddess, however, saw him as nothing more than what he truly was: a proud and lying snake who slithers his way into the lives of others with the intent of nothing more than getting what he wants. Which was always sex. He never had relationships. Ever. Which really bothered Iyzebel. But none of that mattered now. Her shimmery pink eyes were harsh on Seraphim, burning holes in his head every time he looked away from her. The goddess smiled as Seraphim said his first words since he'd arrived, as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't. I was just, uh, having a party at my place later. And she should stop by. Iyzebel instantly wanted to unsheathe a dagger and stab him in the jugular. Why should she, of all entities in the afterlife, come to his party? He had absolutely no business here, and she had no business at his party. She didn't have a clue why he was even asking, as his parties generally turned into mass orgies, and he was not (NOT) getting her into his bed. Nor would he for the rest of eternity. The hate pulsed through her veins with every beat of her heart, and she was about to banish him from her territory forever. However, her face did not show any of this hatred or thoughts of dismembering him. She merely smiled daintily at him. "Yes, Seraphim, I would love to come to your party later." Her words were soft, but held massive dark intentions behind them. Oh she would definitely come to his party, yes... She had thought it over completely within the two seconds between her loathing and her response. Perhaps she could get a group together to crash one of Serpahim's famous parties, the most famous in the afterlife. Yes, that would definitely get her some attention. Not that she needed any, because she was already pretty much widely hated by both deities and the souls of mortals, but some of them were drawn to her, and those were the ones that she was always seeking. But then, someone else burst through the door to her throne room, and Iyzebel was quite startled to see the large man stomp on down to hall toward her and the god of love. At first, she didn't really recognize this character, but he definitely did have the energy of a god. And then as she saw the white and ruby-colored plate armor, she realized that it was Hadwin, the god of war himself. She never really saw him in his humanoid form that often, as he much preferred to be seen in dragon form. The beasts were the best at the art of war, after all. A small smirk crawled up on the goddess's face, and she moved her gaze down and back up, from head to toe and back to head of Hadwin's body. She did this while he was inspecting Seraphim, of course, so that the god of war couldn't see her. Iyzebel laughed lightly at Hadwin's words to the smaller god, and then waved a dismissing hand through the air at his apologies to her. "It is all well, Hadwin. My ruins are always open to you." she stated, and it was true. Mayhem and war fit together like lock and key, because you really couldn't have a type of one without a type of another. It was kind of the same thing that she had had going with Seraphim while she had been the goddess of beauty. Beauty and love fit together the same way that mayhem and war did. "Well," she started, addressing both of them, "Today is quite a day for me, as I haven't had visitors in months." And then she tacked on, "As a matter of fact, the last time someone has intentionally come here to see me was several years ago." Iyzebel looked between the gods while sitting still daintily on her oversized throne. She really had no clue what was even going on here. She knew that Seraphim had just come to ruffle her feathers and get her to try to kill him (or at least, that's what it seemed he was trying to do), but what did Hadwin want? She hadn't seen the god of war in quite a while. "Hadwin, is there anything in particular you've come for?" she asked gently.

[-Seraphim-]

Seraphim could tell that even though Iyzebel’s words were cordial to him, she was just sitting there hating him with everything she had. Knowing her, there were probably at least ten different scenarios running through her head in which she was killing him. And he really didn’t like the way she had spoken, either. Even though the words themselves said she was on good terms with him and wanted to have a good time, (or something along those lines), the tone with which she had said them said that she wanted to show up and wreak havoc on his guests, and probably try to tarnish his reputation as well as his possessions, and probably himself. It probably wouldn’t put a damper on his life for too long, because it would obviously be her fault for showing up and causing chaos, but still. The goddess of mayhem would most likely have quite a few tricks up her sleeve, and given her deep grudging hatred would of course find some way to make it look like he had caused whatever it would be. So right now, the god of love was really regretting the words he had just spoken. Why would he be so stupid? He knew what Iyzebel had become. Sure, he wasn’t exactly known for his brains, but he was definitely smart enough to think through things like that. Seraphim swallowed, a lump forming in his throat in genuine worry. This woman was pretty crazy and unpredictable now, and there was pretty much nothing he could do to prepare for whatever her destructive imagination dreamed up.

Before he could act on the inclination of subtly withdrawing the invitation, or at least discourage her from actually dropping by, the door which had recently been slammed shut behind him slammed back open, banging on the remnants of the walls next to it. Probably for the best, anyway; that course of action probably would have ended in the loss of his pretty body. Seraphim jumped at the loud noise, whipping his head in the opposite direction. What had this crazy goddess conjured up to smush him? Oh, okay. It was just Hadwin. Not that the god of war didn’t scare him almost as much as Iyzebel. The man could be considered almost as crazy. Well, that was the god of love’s opinion, anyway. He couldn’t understand why someone would want to be the god of war, when love was so much better. ‘Make love, not war’ seemed to be a pretty popular saying among the people. But, of course, Hadwin had the opposite view of things, so he didn’t much care for the handsome god either. Which made him go even better with Iyzebel, and probably explained why he was coming in so abruptly. And the second thing out of his mouth, after a greeting to the ruler of this domain, was an insult to Seraphim. Typical. The god of love scowled, turning his vision away from the both of them. And then of course, the brute had to suck up to the petite woman, offering his sincerest apologies for so rudely barging in. Well hey, if you were sorry, maybe ya’ shouldn’t have done it. Hm?

Seraphim just mumbled to himself, though, not wanting to provoke the huge god. The guy would probably start a fight because he just looooved war and all that, and ruin the handsome god’s pretty face. And his mumbling just increased in volume a little bit as Iyzebel gave the huge brute such a warm welcome. Oh Haaadwin, you’re always welcome here. In fact, anyone’s welcome except Seraphim, because it’s now my life-long ambition to destroy him. But especially you, because you’re so handsome and violent. Seraphim mocked the woman inside his head rather childishly, and had to quickly wipe a stupid look off his face before the other two noticed and ganged up to kill him. The both of them together kind of scared the god of love. Maybe he was a bit paranoid, but they were the two most destructive deities in the overworld, and some of the only few that could actually hurt him. And Seraphim just couldn’t risk losing his pretty face. His entire lifestyle would just be ruined.

The handsome god straightened up as Iyzebel turned her attention back to the both of them. She acknowledged the fact that this was a rather unusual day, because she usually spent her endless days here all by her lonesome. No one liked her anymore the way they used to. When she was the goddess of beauty, she had more visitors than he did. Which was saying something. Seraphim wondered how she had managed to adjust to this lifestyle. He certainly never could. Though right now, it looked as if she would have preferred to be alone over getting a visit from the god of love. Not that she thought the same about the god of war. Nope. He was always welcome. Whatever. Those two were about the only two beings in the universe that didn’t enjoy his company. And what was two people? Not a lot. So whatever.

Seraphim started feeling like it would probably be better for everyone if he just made himself scarce and slipped out right now. No one wanted him there, and he had preparations to make for a party. Most of which would be warning everyone that there might be a visit from the goddess of mayhem. So as Iyzebel once again showed her preference for Hadwin by kindly inquiring as to his intentions for the visit, Seraphim backed away from the group slowly, heading towards a split in the wall.

[Hadwin]

Hadwin
_{their ain't gonna be heroes}

Crimson eyes trained on Iyzebel's hand as she gestured dismissively, studying the deft movement with practiced assessment as his hidden ears picked out her words. "It is all well, Hadwin. My ruins are always open to you."

Seraphim's senseless mumblings were drowned out by the master of war's militant chords. "You're too..." he paused, searching for the correct word but finally gave up, "...kind." Really he'd wanted to say something a little more meaningful to the chaotic goddess but words had never been his forte.

The god of war looked toward Iyzebel's delicate face and nodded curtly, an understanding of their mutual appreciation for the other's domain passing between the two deities. It may not always have been so and most likely will not always be but for now she and I understand each other. Such a kinship of power was not something Hadwin was used to having with another deity. The only other god who'd ever come close was Ghassan, god of life and death.

It's the whole 'death' part... like mayhem, death is both a source and product of war. Yet Hadwin's eyes grew hard and his jaw locked as he thought on the other dragon-form god. Ghassan possessed what was probably the greatest power of all the gods, and therefore could not be trusted.

Is Iyzebel any better though? Probably not. Although related in nature, the two deities were not friends in any way. Yet Hadwin shrugged, unconcerned. After all, where would all the blessed warriors he'd created be without a little risk?

The hand resting on the empty scabbard twitched as Hadwin noticed Seraphim straightening in response to Iyzebel's address, instincts on the alert for any hostile movement. Personally Hadwin would love an opportunity to have a go at the outrageously handsome deity, but he'd heard plenty of stories about mysterious things heppening to those who'd messed with the god of love. The emotion was something Hadwin didn't fully comprehend and therefore disliked... but their was no denying that it held great power over even his subjects.

"Hadwin, is there anything in particular you've come for?"

The question caught him slightly by surprise, his attention having wavered to the other outsider to a greater degree than he'd realized. Throwing Seraphim one last look of wariness and contempt, Hadwin shifted to fully face the goddess of mayhem once again.

"Information, if you have it. Something interesting has come up in the mortal world that I believe you might know about give your particular... talents," at that he smiled boldly, But if anyone else knew anything about it their input would be appreciated." Hadwin threw Seraphim a pointed look, red eyes raking over the god with aggressive intimidation.

The room went quiet for a moment as Hadwin poised for his strike, his voice dropping in depth and thrumming with a barely restrained level of excitement. "What do you know about this shifter organization called the Shadow?"

Hadwin
_{their ain't gonna be anythin'}