Monday, August 7, 2017

drop me into the azure depths, give me some room to breathe. it'll be just like… falling asleep.
despair is an awful friend, an icy hand on the heart; raw, persisent, ubiquitous … you crave it, really, because it's all you've ever known. >> 7/6/16

Monday, November 21, 2016

MBTI Personality Types

Samson Aster - ENFP
Mercy Mendoza - ISFJ
Mara Mendoza - INFP
Eon Harken - ENFJ
Sovran de Vaux - ESFP
Thanatas Kraisorn - ISTP
Ricia Fraga - INFJ
Zoe Loi - INTJ
Fulcanelli Paramirum - ENTP
Veer Thakur - ESFJ
Nuira Wingrave - ESTP
Remiel Bain - ENTJ
Sachiel Bain - ISFP

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Runic Arrays

Magic spells in the world of the Godtypes, known as Bindings or simply "miracles", always fall within the domain of a single rune from the Armanen Futharkh. While runology and Bind-crafting are commonly regarded as two entirely independent studies, the creation of Bindings regularly falls into the domain of the 18 runes, though this specific knowledge often falls outside the crafter's knowledge.
Each Thaumaturge will possess anywhere from 1 to 18 Runic Arrays, also known as wards, which take the shape of a hexagon and manifest a single rune each at any given time. While Godtypes seem to command an infinite, uncountable quantity, the number of wards ultimately determines the complexity of the Bindings a Theurgist can maintain, though only gods and Thaumas proficient in runology are physically able see the wards and rune manifestations.

The 1st: Fa
Color: red
  • Emotional relief
  • Fire magic
The 2nd: Ur
Color: red-orange
  • Endurance
  • Healing
  • Time reversal
  • Resurrection
The 3rd: Dorn
Color: orange-yellow
  • Increasing mental/functional capacity
  • Hinder foes
  • Detecting or destroying weapons
  • Manipulating electronics
  • Lightning magic
The 4th: Os
Color: yellow
  • Breaking free of restraints
  • Increase speed
  • Persuasion
  • Manipulation of sounds
  • Speech and breath control
The 5th: Rit
Color: yellow-green
  • Call for aid
  • Deflect physical attacks and incoming projectiles
  • Orderliness
  • Correction
  • Rewriting history
The 6th: Ka
Color: green-yellow
  • Spiritual connection
  • Return curse to sender
  • Artfulness
The 7th: Hagal
Color: green
  • Extinguish flames
  • Ice magic
  • Enclosure/capture
  • Regeneration
The 8th: Not
Color: green-cyan
  • Calming effects, reconciliation
  • Karma
  • Alteration of Fate
The 9th: Is
Color: cyan-green
  • Manipulating wind, air magic
  • Calming the seas/storms
  • Forcible control, obedience, compelling will
The 10th: Ar
Color: cyan
  • Temporarily blinds enemies
  • Defense against evil forces
  • Confusion
  • Glamour
The 11th: Sig
Color: cyan-blue
  • Light magic
  • Navigating darkness
  • Protection of allies
The 12th: Tyr
Color: blue-cyan
  • Turn the tides
  • Wisdom through discovery
  • Spiritual understanding
  • See imprints of the past
  • Necromancy
The 13th: Bar
Color: blue
  • Creativity in song
  • Water magic
  • Predestination
The 14th: Laf
Color: blue-violet
  • Knowledge
  • Earth magic
  • Altering the laws of nature
The 15th: Man
Color: violet-blue
  • Increase bodily function
  • Power, prowess, and foresight
The 16th: Yr
Color: violet
  • Seeing and striking targets at a distance
  • Detect falsehood
  • Black magic
The 17th: Eh
 Color: violet-red
  • Law of attraction
  • Binding contracts
  • Duality
The 18th: Gibor

Color: red-violet (magenta)
  • Creates union
  • Gift of life
  • Aether magic
  • Cosmic consciousness
  • Divine principle

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

The Sinner's Logbook: Chapter 1

Entry xxx,xxx,xx0




…I think if we all went about business with that assumption in mind, we’d have been a whole lot happier when reality swung around and blew our sorry-ass expectations to kingdom come.

Thing is, when you aim to make miracles from an absolute pile of bullshit, you shouldn’t expect to go very far. Simple truth of the matter, take it or leave it. Even the best of us get royally screwed over by life, because idealistic concepts like “justice” and “fairness” don’t just happen by default—we will them into existence.

And sometimes, despite a lifetime of dreaming and scheming and trying not to die for your vision, none of it comes remotely close to working out. Not only that, maybe it blows up in your face; it kills you, and you lose everything in the wake of your failure: property, people; you name it.

Those loved ones hardly deserve to get caught by your shrapnel, the undertow of your fall, but hey, that’s life. No one said it would be easy, or that everything would turn out fine, the way you planned it.

At the point we were at, everyone was just groping blindly on the ground for their “happy ending”, not really knowing with well-grounded confidence if that sort of thing was even within reach.

I want to call it a calculated risk, but when the fate of the entire world rests on your shoulders, any kind of stumble on that front basically constitutes apocalypse. And guess what?

We fucked up big time.

No one expected such an awful tragedy to befall the planet Earth, except maybe Remiel Araboth Bain: the so-called “god among gods.” Probably the most pretentious and unrepentant asshole you’d ever meet.

And, he was also the guy I called my father. But only out of necessity--it wasn’t like I was related to him by blood because I’d probably jump off a cliff it that were true and besides, my kind doesn’t reproduce the way the mortals do.

Yeah, Godtypes are orphans at birth. Weird, right?

Now, the big reason any other gods ever clung to Remiel and did his dirty work and killed for his cause was because he had seen the end, he knew what was going down and tried with every fiber in his being to stop it.

In all honesty, I admit, I hate my dad’s guts with a burning passion, but at the same time I can’t discredit his tenacity. Let’s give dad a nice gold star for effort, because he sure as hell tried.

Remiel Bain probably spent upwards of four thousand years waging war on fate, doing everything possible to preserve this faltering reality. It was like defusing a bomb in infinite repetition: staving off disaster until the doomsday clock simply reset itself and began ticking down again.

I seriously wonder if it was even worth it. Remiel sacrificed himself, wound up dying for his trouble, and then the world went out in a big ball of metaphorical smoke and flame regardless. What a slap in the face. It’s hard not to feel sorry for the poor son of a bitch, but he screwed me over enough times that I kinda don't have the energy to give a damn about him or anything else.

It’s because of his carelessness that everyone died. My brother, our friends, all of humanity…

Even me.

…My hand’s freezing up again. It’s hard to hold a pen straight when it feels like your fingers are falling off.

On the bright side, I’m not rotting or zombified or anything gross like that. And my fingers aren’t falling off for real.

Pray that never happens. It would be awful.

Well. I’m running out of things to write. Maybe some other time. Too tired right now. Just wanna jot this down, so I don’t forget:

Today is the twentieth day of the thirty-nine million, nine-hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine-hundred ninety-ninth month. It’s cold, per usual. I still want to die but I won't. I want to leave the Room but I can’t.

Not yet, anyway.

Three million years down, give or take thirty three thousand something.
At least five hundred eighty million more to go.

Sachiel, I hope to see you soon.

—signed, samson michael aster