#coatlicue.

❝  𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐍. You will be loved. You will be hated. You will be brilliant. Within two years, you will be dead. Mother of all, you thirst for the vengeance that has consumed you. The earth you carry, and the earth you will become once more. ❞

STORY.

There was always an anger in you, but it was not simple, the seething beneath your skin, and that is what the ever-present caretakers saw—a divine violence that needed to be brought out. Now, that anger is your mantle and your blade, the sweet nectar that your miracles taste of. Your fans are odd ducks, and there have been times where people have shed blood for you on those mosh pits, but nothing makes you smile more. Critics have called you dangerous and the media has decried your concerts, calling you too violent, too angry, too much. You’ve heard worse coming from yourself. There is no answer that will suffice. Of course, you are the earth itself, creation at its most feral—what did they expect from the serpent-skirted?

TRAITS.

(+) — brave, resilient, passionate

(−) — rash, irritable, dismissive

MIRACLES.

Darkness and death radiate off you in waves, the hollow feeling of being eaten almost at the forefront of your followers’ minds. But there is something else there, the earth that you so choose to unleash your feral anger off of. It’s a balance, you think, between creation and consumption—though, one you have never cared to maintain.

CONNECTIONS.

LILITH: Both of you are the only underworld deities left—deities being the operative term, as you’ve never learned if the god that inhabits them really is a god, or something else that pretends. Either way, you find a strange kinship with LILITH, their petty feuds and your angry miracles almost mirroring each other in a sort of kismet. You don’t give praise easily, but you will concede that their tricks and deceptions were fun to watch unfold.

WODEN: Their shtick—knowing things, would have been useful in the scheme of things, if they didn’t stick to the cryptic messaging that made your head hurt and your eyes roll. You appreciate WODEN, sure, but their prophecies always left a bad taste in your mouth, one you couldn’t wait to wash out. They were a god like you, your beloved part of a pantheon, but by all that you hold dear, you just wanted the cryptic messages over with.