{The deeply unhelpful and punishing desire to attend to all your canons and muses when you’re 4 days deep into having the ‘Rona and can't do anything in general, let alone anything intellectual}
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@marksofwoe asked: ‘ death is one of the senses ’ || IDR THE MEME LMAO
“For those of us that never die, perhaps. There are all too many deaths that have overcome my senses, even in the void of the ones I used to have. Death became indeed its very own sense, by virtue. And you, that lived out your earliest days as a thing dying, would understand that better than anyone. How likened we are, and how different...” And how beautiful they have long thought the idea; how long it has been since finding themselves in someone else after all, and how quaint to find it here, of all places. As it often does in V’s company, a strange joy stirs in Ophir’s chest, fills them all the way to the whiskey colour of their wandering eyes as they look the other up and down. Pallor and ink-whorls and spring eyes and all--with his lips full of smiles as they are with talk of death, laughably at odds, and laugh Ophir does as they lean their cheek into one gloved hand, quietly amused.
“I have been mortal and some part of me is mortal yet...” Words not their own, but words V might recognise. Certainly, the habit of speaking someone else’s words at least will be.
“That small and mortal part of us is the sense of death. Is that what you mean?”
{Watching Mushi-shi and Mononoke for days on end has blasted me straight back into Hradi’s universe and I now lay here in the baking heat listening to Run by Skald and DYING}
REUNION : for one muse to run into the other again after a long time.
The entirety, sans the personal living quarters, has been once again seen to. The floor-to-ceiling curtains have been steamed, as so the flooring. Perfumed with favored scents by the bar’s owner, and those recommended from Nero’s friend’s pamphlet (What were his name? Russian for Bear, wasn’t it?). The stools have been polished, as the bar’s table top. The cushions and comfortable, welcoming niceties have been lightly freshened. The Neon signs outside checked for and received maintenance, where necessary. The unused alcohol left as such, save for the smallest, most insignificant portion poured over ice, allowed to be diluted. The food exchanged, outdated things thrown away, or fed to strays. Replaced with fresh-made things as per Nero’s insistence…
The shot glass being examined for water spots when the sound of a door clicks shut. A presence well (wretchedly) known returning, and every hair upon Vergil’s skin raised with alarm.
….not that he would greet them. Not pleasantly, anyway.
“Someone finally decided to show up after all…”
“We can’t all be so fortunate as to be without duty in this world or those beyond it. I am Lord and Master, where I hail from, and Lord and Master I must be from time to time...” Far from the welcome they expected, as very often there is no welcome at all except empty walls, whiskey and wine, a bed no warmer than they are. They wonder wryly if this is preferable to any of those things--decide as they step further in that in some funny little way that it might be. The sourness of Vergil’s expression, after all, is never anything short of amusing.
But more amusing still is how spotless their home remains even weeks after departure. Ophir glances about, from the clean faces of their tables to the polished wood of the bar, to the glasses newly shined upon it. All picture perfect. All leading their eyes back to the only other soul that is here as their lips quirk with bright, sweet mirth.
“Colour me surprised to see you here, nevertheless. Was this by Nero’s summon, or were you merely starting to miss having someone to complain about?” Their laughter, too, as bright and sweet as they set themselves down at the bar’s edge. “Not that I shall be complaining much myself...if all of this were your doing, then I will thank you for keeping the place looking as though I had never left.”
Some more updates to Ophir’s backstory because they have been getting some serious spotlight behind the scenes and this blog is just my personal dumping ground lol:
When dispatched to earth as a Watcher among 200 others, they were placed in 4th Century Roman-Armenia, where they shared their wisdom of the phases of the moon, the lunar calendar, the stars, the zodiac and the universe at large.
They taught several of their wisdoms at the temple of Garni, ironically a structure devoted to a sun-god at conception.
While they educated and conversed with royalty, philosophers and scholars for the most part, they likewise took the time to work among ordinary individuals just the same, which in large part is what they enjoyed the most.
It was during one of their public outings that they caught the eye of a wine-maker named Alphaeus and that he likewise took theirs, when he came offering them his goods in exchange for their work. Smitten, this was the first instance Ophir took a decided interest in a single human, and accepted the consequent invitation to visit the wine-maker’s estate.
Ophir ultimately ends up staying with Alphaeus after viewing his vineyard and estate and visiting him often to drink of the wine his family made. Only a short while passes before the two end up falling in love, and not too long after their son, Ulani, was born. Though by now, we all know, sadly, how this story ends.
Worse still for Ophir, Alphaeus’ brother that had escaped the flood by pure happenstance of travelling elsewhere as a merchant at the time, wound up resenting Ophir for the death and destruction that followed behind them, and swore to exact his revenge. This never came to be for Ophir was being punished in Hell for far longer than the brother was ever on earth to look for them, but for the treachery he committed while still alive, he was sent to Hell--and after a long time spent crawling through the earlier rings of the inferno, he met his final end at Badiat, where Ophir was the one to judge his sins once and for all after being faced with the vitriol he still carried for them. This instance was what finally turned Ophir’s heart cold to humankind at large.
Their homeland in Badiat is eternally cloaked in pure night and contains so many moons and stars due in part to their innate connection to the moon/stars/aether but also as a reflection of their own innermost mind--how deeply they miss the night sky where they were born, the stars that lived there and taught them their wisdoms, and the peace that they grew to yearn deeply to return to.
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So some fun and important updates to Ophir’s character have been implemented after some rigorous research, most in particular to the development of their angelic past which has up till now largely gone unexplored and undeveloped sans the general events of their story; so I am going to list in short what new elements have been implemented for their character;
Their station was that of one among seven archangels that oversaw the earth, albeit still classified as cherubim given their four wings and the four faces of their purest angelic design. They were a teacher of the moon, stars, celestial bodies and the zodiac, as well as being an exalted divine warrior--guarding not only Eden, but being the punisher of other angels that were driven astray or rebelled against God’s command, as well as governing the sins and injustices of the human world. It is said in legend that as they wept for the sinners, their tears, if they ever were to touch one such sinner, could absolve them of their misdeeds.
They also rule over the realm of dreams, both the giving and the interpreting of them, often giving divine wisdom or instruction within the form of which.
They decide, determine and control the fixed position of the stars, as well as communes with them regularly, with power over the primordial elements including that of the aether. Known as the angel of the waning moon and the night sky.
They were among the leaders of the 200 angels dispatched to earth to instruct and to watch over humanity, alongside their counterpart of Shamsiel, an angel of the sun.
And naturally, as one could interpret for themselves, their great, deep love of humanity came not merely from their inherited nature as a cherubim, but the fact they were a constant governor and overseer of the human world, let alone one of the angels given the divine purpose to come down to earth and live there among the people in it--they, like many others in their position, fell all the more deeply in love with humanity and the freedom of life on earth, and began feeling compelled to teach their holy wisdoms which were considered by God to be forbidden to mankind.
Anonymous asked: So Ophir what's something about humans that gets your panties in a twist easily? || Ask my muse invasive questions! Nothing is off limits and they have to answer honestly-
“Where to even begin? Man has become only more of a tedious species to me in time. I had loved them dearly, a very long time ago, envied them...when life on earth was simple as it was beautiful, and so too was man. I wonder often whether it was the doing of God that man became the creatures they are today, or if it were always in their nature--they were born merely of his gluttony for devotion, after all. Perhaps they were born sick from the very beginning...” A bitterness already coming to their eyes to think it, to think how doomed it all were from the moment it began; a prophecy only ever creeping closer to its own fulfilment that Ophir to this moment sometimes regrets ever having been part of. Their chest aches, their brow knit to a weary frown.
“It bothers me that they crave a God to live in the service of--they tire of one because they have learned to revere another that is more immediate, enslave themselves to ideas that never existed before they themselves invented them. Money, fame, materialism--no matter the sacrifices that must be made to achieve it, no matter what must be killed or gutted or torn asunder. They desire nothing of being their own persons, now. Not truly.”
They sigh, looking into the whiskey sat untasted on the bar.
“It bothers me that they are selfish, cruel, and seeking always for a crutch to make such cruelty, in their minds, correct, just and moral. A species utterly obsessed with morality, laughably, and yet looking for every excuse never to practice it. Even in the age of modernity, God has become a very convenient excuse for that, for evil...not out of any true reverence for him, but merely out of their own desires for something to make their wickedness justified. One would think any God worth his salt would be shamed to think of his name and voice being used in that way. But just as they do, he only turned his eyes away from what did not flatter him, what did not threaten him. When they say man was made in his image, it is not the image people comfort themselves with. They are his creations, and have inherited the worst of their creator. For all their genius and beauty, men waste themselves on vanity and greed. Just as God...”
Which is the bitterest thought of all to have, leaving them cold to even have come upon it as they lift their glass. “It bothers me that they are indeed so much like God. As a child will sometimes become the image of their parent, they have become the image of him. For the worse...only for the worse. To see what you once loved show its true colours of rot, diseased from the same source that rotted you too away with it....there will never be words for a pain quite like it.”
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Another important change I am working on in Ophir’s canon (remind me to think of a comprehensive title for this novella series at some point since that's what it's turning into lmao) is the character of Shamsiel; in his original incarnation, he was a 100% altruistic and compassionate force that was steadfast in his belief in God regardless of their acts of vanity and yet tried to play both sides of the field; mourning for the people God’s cruelty affected, while still being in God’s pocket at all times, which to be honest was a very contradictory and not very compelling character for him to have, as well as a pretty insulting one frankly. This is because in the earliest stages of this story from around 2018 or so, Shamsiel was meant to be a foil to the vindictive, violent and rebellious Ophir, who was originally posed as a villain in the story but has since become the protagonist, and their motivations have become exceedingly sympathetic--which likewise changes the entire relationship Shamsiel has with them, and so Shamsiel’s role and nature in the story likewise has to change!
Though, given that Shamsiel was supposed to indeed serve as Ophir’s original narrative foil, he would benefit from having more flaws in his overtly innocent characterization, and to represent the turmoil of someone on the opposite side of Ophir’s struggle; as, for that matter, someone who was (albeit unwittingly) complicit in their struggle. Shamsiel at his foundation is someone who wishes to preserve the good teachings and practices of his faith while being forced to confront the unfairness and ugliness inherent in which, and which was something he was not forced to confront until they affected him specifically.
So I would like to implement the idea of Shamsiel initially not fully recognizing humans as valuable, individual persons; he thought that he loved them and that God loved them too, because that was what was preached to him and his brethren--he wept for the condemned because it was his job, but without really understanding why he wept, nor weeping with any real feeling for any of the individuals that he was made to weep for in the first place. In effect, he was a glorified actor for the spectacle of God’s vanity, intended to make the spectacle more to behold than it really was--to indeed make it seem more divinely dramatic and tragic than the act of petty cruelty it really were. And Shamsiel, like all angels, did not question this.
Ophir, however, served as a very rude and visceral awakening to the fact that he had never loved these people of earth like he always said he did, thought he did, wept like he did. He did nothing to protest the flood that killed thousands, children and all, and did not realize the gravity of those lives he allowed to be taken (or, for that matter, the manipulation at play at the hands of Elkanah--who preyed on the fact the other angels like Shamsiel were all too wrapped up in their own self-righteousness, divinity and subservience to even question the idea, and Elkanah got exactly what he wanted because of it.) It was not until Ophir slaughtered their way to God to confront him for it that Shamsiel felt a terrible pain for what had happened. Ophir’s anguish over their dead child and lover and the incredible amount of pain they suffered as they were exiled resonated with Shamsiel, and it was the very first time Shamsiel wept for something he personally felt affected by--something that actually hurt him in the way he was made to pretend to be hurt for the many lives of centuries past.
Thus begins the trajectory of Shamsiel starting to actively do things on his own terms and accord behind God’s back, and what leads him to taking in the Nephilim Sariel--the one and only survivor of the great flood. Shamsiel saw this as his chance to start righting the wrongs of the past, and while he could not raise the child himself given he was inevitably to be found out if he did so, he took the steps necessary to secure the child with a place he would be properly cared for and that he could regularly go back to in order to watch over the child when he was able to come to earth. This later caused conflict between Ophir and Shamsiel when Ophir discovered it, though this was also the point in which the two reconnected over their mutual disdain for what had become of Heaven.
From here, Shamsiel began on the path to try and alter the course of life and belief in Heaven and on Earth. He was the one responsible for finding out Elkanah’s deception of God and the angels at large, as well as their unjust behaviour on earth trying to assert themselves as a false God among the people in the wake of the real God’s ignorance; and with Elkanah’s scheme to cause uprising in Heaven using the deaths of the nephilim from centuries previously finally unearthed in full, many other angels in God’s ranks all began to be disillusioned about their circumstances, about God, about how easily manipulated every single one of them were in their own divine vanity, passed down to them by their master.
Needless to say, this fundamentally shifted the way things were and were done; their God unable to any longer rule his forces with an iron fist as he once had in the wake of them refuting his hold over them, especially in an age where at this point in the future, Heaven had become a fairytale in the minds of people on Earth that no longer needed it. God became obsolete, a relic of a time that was forgotten, and was unthroned for it by his own creations. Power, agency and freedom were relinquished to his angels to use as they see fit, for causes they saw fit, following in Shamsiel’s footsteps that had begun many centuries ago and this shift in the structure of Heaven is partially the reason why Ophir was extended the opportunity to return to Heaven when they broke their curse, as their exile was now seen as particularly unjust, undeserved and done in pure ignorant spite. As we all know, Ophir refused, much to Shamsiel’s dismay, who had hoped for them to see how Eden had changed since their disappearance from it, and to be a part of the changes still taking place.
While Shamsiel did not become the new “God” in a sense, as he began to believe that no one man or creature should be ruled over by another, he did become a figurehead of sorts among his brethren, giving them somewhere to look to in a world where their master was no longer present to rule. Shamsiel provides guidance and direction, advice and comfort, and he as well as many other angels now covertly live on Earth, walking among humans and bettering the world from their level rather than as a mystical, looming force.
Sweeps in out of the blue to drop some more random Ophir Mythos Facts ™
While the common misconception is that they are associated with or take the form of a crow or a blackbird due to their dark colours, their original cherubic incarnation during their days in Eden was of that of a pale lioness that bore the wings of a harpy eagle. They once bore the moniker “Lion of God” for this reason. Some in Hell still refer to them as “The Lioness” to this day.
The legends state that Ophir’s white hair and pale feathers were turned black by the sheer amount of blood they spilled in the rampage they went on after the death of their child and partner, slaughtering countless numbers of their brethren on their ascent through the rings of Heaven to forcibly reach God’s throne. This is another reason they are mistakenly regarded as being associated with crows, given the creature’s folkloric connection with the concept of death. Some say that it was part of their punishment to retain this change to their appearance as a reminder of their sins. Ophir never comments on whether this is true.
Ophir never does regain the original wings they had as an angel, as they would be expected to return to Heaven in order to be granted them, though when their curse is broken, they obtain a phantom set that in appearance resemble the same blue flames that encompass their divine sword, Teshuvah.
❝Oh, then the pleasure’s all mine!❞ Familiarity and charm alike, even if taken aback momentarily. Seras walks in with a mite of bashfulness nonetheless, even if it is exciting to meet another of old Grandpa’s children-
❝Yes, that is correct; though hopefully with good things…❞ head tilts, ❝May I ask what brings you here now, Damaris?❞
“Visiting, merely...when I’ve any time on my hands, I always come to see whatever in the world father is doing up here. And it seems every time I do, there’s another in his care~” And cordially, she steps aside to welcome the other into the temple’s grand and sprawling quiet--not quite without her eager smile, albeit as she presses on. “Well? Do tell, curiosity begs of me--what brings you here tonight?”
❝–!❞ Oh, that - that’s quite an introduction all at once. For a moment Seras merely holds her hand suspended from knocking, ❝I must be quite the topic if I’ve reached the ears of…?❞ not helping that large smile, nonetheless.
“Damaris. One of Adonijah’s many children.” A smile quirks the corners of her mouth, dark eyes heavy and fond as she gently ushers down that hovering hand. “And you, if I am not mistaken, are the lovely Seras Victoria. Quite the topic indeed--father speaks of you very often, when I am here--which by the contrary is not very often at all...and likely why I’ve never had the pleasure~”
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