Book of Gods

When the schism occurred, and the First Sphinx shattered, it was nine newborn gods that stood within the room. some in confusion, some not, but nine all the same, for the tenth went wordlessly the moment he found his legs, slipping from the castle window and spreading wings sharp as a kite's, fleeing over the waves of the sea, to the shore, to deepest woods, and here he alit, and his wings became but a tattered shawl, useless now among the thick and ancient trees. It is there he wandered first, and he wanders still, from shore to field to wood, for the most part, he inhabits the deepest and wildest reaches of Hangata, places where most intelligent beings dare not roam.

He is seldom seen, and even more seldom encountered in ways that are not fleeting and distant. The locals of the world tend to view him as a deity of dichotomy, both of one of guardianship and judgement alike, as he tends to appear most readily to those who have lost their way in order to guide them home, or to those who have done evil, tenderness and brutality incarnate, each in their turn.

Wander seems to have no particular goals, save for maintaining his freedom and independence. he seems to be content to watch over the world his precursor created without interfering too much.

Although he would deny it, deep down, Wander is a lonely, traumatized creature, having spent the beginning years of his life a prisoner of fate, he hates to be confined in any way both figurative and literal, he holds his independent solitude sacred, and refuses to let anybody take it from him, despite this, part of him craves deeply to be understood utterly and entirely, yet opposing this, another part of him hates the idea of anyone comprehending him on so deep a level, as he feels it turns him into something boring and terribly mundane, for these reasons, he keeps most at arms length, and prefers to keep most of his feelings and intentions to himself.
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•  Smells heady, a mix of cedar forests, herbs, and blood.

• Loves games, tricks, riddles and similar.

• Movement is graceful, unnaturally so, has an uncanney valley affect on most viewers.

• Dew claw is usually kept sheath, but when visible is long, dagger sharp, and hollow; pumps venom from a gland in the wrist, at low doses has a mild numbing effect, mid level dosing has effects that string from disorienting, relaxing, and mildly warming, but soothing in a way, like a mixture of opiates and THC, high doses are dangerous, heavy disorientation, difficulty moving, possible vomiting, fever, confusion and anxiety. Extreme doses are fatal, fuzzy, movement stopping, may cause vomiting at which point one usually asphyxiates, otherwise simply slows the heart gently to a stop, has some manner of control over this it seems, likely dosing related.

• Becomes more ethereal the longer he has gone unseen, or with emotional turmoil, tattered in a way, as if slowly falling apart at the edges, like tattered cloth and smoke or similar.

•  Has shrines dedicated to him throughout the world, oddly, despite his solitude, much more likely to read the prayers and wishes left there and to respond to them. 

•  Sometimes seen wearing a mask, has a favorite, but what exactly he wears often changes all the same. 

• Associated symbols are a compass, a feather, a black rose, a key, the crow, the albatross, a tattered cloak, an open road, and a lantern. 

╔ Freedom ╗ ╔ Solitude ╗ ╔ Judgement ╗╔ Loneliness ╗ ╔ Memory ╗╔ Travel ╗ ╔ Strangers ╗ ╔ Abandonment ╗ 

If Wander is the picture of perfect Freedom, then Whiteout is the picture of perfect control.

At heart, a cynic, and deeply misanthropic, his dedication to protecting his city, and his people, are tempered by a distaste for humanity as a whole, and a wide pit of despair borne from his view that people are, at their core, selfish. Whiteout does not fancy himself a hero, nor some guardian of justice. He looks after his own first and foremost, and his cares extend from there if they extend at all.

Whiteout spends as much time in a more humanoid form as he does in the body of a Sphinx, centering himself not at the head of a true army, but at the center of a web of criminal activity, the head of Yr'Dor's mafia-esque organization. He keeps close watch over the undertakings of other criminal organizations, and those who will not deal with his demands or otherwise bend the knee are swiftly snuffed out if possible; and all things are possible with time. 

Anything that cannot be, to some degree, controlled, is a great danger. Whiteout will not stand for this. He does not trust people to protect others unless under command to do so. Anyone who cannot be made to obey are considered irksome vermin and done away with hastily.

Whiteout's goals are all about control, he seeks to take as much of the world as he can under his dominion with the goal of creating a perfect world, or at least perfect piece of the world, under his control he believes that people would come to less harm, as they would not have to worry about making stupid decisions, worrying about their own needs, or being entangled in petty wars.

Whiteout is predatory in all ways, he is not afraid of taking advantage of others for his own goals and desires.

Perhaps strangely, he is capable, always, of locating his mirror, Wander. Perhaps he is one of the only beings in all the world who can, they are bound as one is to their reflection.

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• Smells faintly of bourbon, warm sugar, and leather.

• Quiet showoff, likes to make it known he has nice things, and nice people about him.

• Casually sensual, both a form of affection and a show of power to those around him.

• As well, casually violent, can be brutal, even cruel.

•  Movement is graceful, unnaturally so, yet it isn't as liquid-fluid as Wander, there's more power behind it, like the pacing of a large predator.

• Physically strong, moreso than his delicate looks might imply. More than happy to test his strength against others.

• Tail injects venom, clear of colour and sticky, at low doses has a mild numbing effect, mid level dosing has effects that string from disorienting, relaxing, and mildly warming, but soothing in a way, like a mixture of opiates and THC, high doses are dangerous and painful, burning through the veins, heavy disorientation, difficulty moving, possible vomiting, fever, confusion and anxiety. Extreme doses are fatal and immeasurably painful, fuzzy, movement stopping, may cause vomiting at which point one usually asphyxiates, otherwise simply slows the heart gently to a stop, has some manner of control over this it seems, likely dosing related.

•  Despite it all, generally polite until he doesn't need to be. Shrewd in business and generally respectful to others in power, demands respect in turn.

• Not as difficult to get ahold of as Wander, but more difficult than Wish, Kingsblood, or War.

• Can hear prayers. May grant them if his whims dictate.

• Associated symbols are a scythe, a crown, a collar, a white rose, the King Chess Piece, the falcon, the fog, a bullet, and a mirror. 

╔ Control ╗ ╔ Societal Change ╗ ╔ Power ╗╔ Evil for the Greater Good ╗ ╔ Authority ╗  ╔ Necessary Cruelty ╗ 

Despite being small in stature; no larger than a large housecat, Wish is an ancient thing, created in the schism that split The First God into Ten,  his looks are a facade that hide a dangerous weapon, easily more powerful than his siblings, a warm, soft, ever-tender nuclear bomb capable of wiping cities from maps without much thought. Despite this power, caring and humble above all else, with a deep distaste for combat.

Those who arrive at his doorstep are treated with nothing but kindness, and it is not uncommon to find the ill or injured taking up space in Wish's varied rooms, as he has a soft heart, and great skill in healing.

Regardless of current mindset, Wish is above all, innocent in the way new things are innocent; trusting and naive in his own way, and happy to be so if it means he does not give in to the cruelty of the world around him.

When he is not at home, he often ends up spending time in the homes of others, especially the elderly and children, who are fond of his cute appearance, and often seem to treat him as a pet or companion-toy in the case of the youth, indeed, peering into the window of a village child and seeing Wish dressed up as silly as a toy doll, and or indulging in some manner of snack is not unusual.

If one has become close to him, and desires something with all their heart, Wish is capable of using the strength of one's loving memories of him in order to grant them their desire, upon doing so, the wish maker will forget Wish himself entirely however, it has led to quite a lonesome life.

Above all, Wish desires nothing more than to help the people around him, he wants for nothing more than for everyone to be healthy and happy, and will do everything in his power to attain this goal; he wishes for nothing more than for everyone to try, to just try, to leave the world a little better than they found it.

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• Carries the faint scent of old books and sea air.

• Easily flustered, no matter how often something happens.

• Easily moved to tears, not ashamed to cry for the most part.

• Hates to fight; but infinitely dangerous despite this. A weapon of war.

• Loves sweets and candies. Or junk food in general.

• Warm and soft, may induce sleepiness if cuddled for too long.

• Ancient despite his tiny, adorable appearance, well studied and intelligent.

• Associated symbols are the sand dollar, a dandelion seed, a peach rose, a child's drawing, the sandpiper, wishbones, an open hand, and the wishing well. 

╔ Healing ╗ ╔ Gentleness ╗ ╔ Childlike Wonder ╗╔ Wishes Granted ╗ ╔ Compassion ╗ ╔ Innocence ╗ ╔ Hope ╗ 

The living god of Ikseo, Kingsblood is arrogant and spoiled, doted upon endlessly by his worshippers, and even moreso by the Priests and Priestesses of the church, most of his days pass in a dreamy haze of smoke and drugs, which keep him drowsy and levelheaded, somewhat less likely to start a fight simply out of some misguided need to be in a fight. Although he can be hotheaded and brash, he cares genuinely for the people of Ikseo, and protects them with his life.

When he isn't in his temple being tended to, he's wandering the festival grounds of Ikseo, helping himself to food and games, teasing the people of the town or partaking in some good natured sparring and sport. Despite how self important he is, he does try not to be too rough with those of a more mortal nature, fully aware of how delicate they are. 

Despite this...

He is hotheaded and arrogant, the bright warning reds he wears are no joke, Kingsblood is not only swift but happy to jump into a brawl if he feels his pride has been wounded, vicious in combat, he rarely hesitates to draw blood. Of course, he's always happy for a less serious spar as well.

He tends to have no time for 'boring' things like study and research, despite this, he's relatively intelligent in a street smarts sort of way. 

Kingsblood's goal is simple, to amass followers, and to strengthen Ikseo in this way; though he has no true desire for conquest or to take more land than what he needs, he is well aware of the greedy hands of his brothers, War and Whiteout, how their claims creep across the world, and if he is to be caught in the middle, he will be ready.

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• Smells of various church incense, and sweet opium.

• Canine teeth are slightly elongated and hollow, he produces venom and fangs are the delivery method. It is a vicious poison, in low doses it causes violent illness and organ damage irreperable. In slightly higher doses it is at its most potent, for it travels to the heart and over a course of days, rots it

• Feels like warm latex to the touch, not scaley.

• Hair is long and soft, he enjoys having it braided.

• Wings can be hidden if need be, otherwise may be folded at his sides or worn hooked up near his neck like a cape

• Absolutely loves spicy food, especially spicy noodle dishes.

• Likes children, and will often let them win in games played against him.

• The hands of his wings are dexterous, just like his forepaws

• Collects jewelry and other shiny, interesting objects that catch his eye.

• Usually high, when he isn't, he tends to be irritable, and more aggressive than usual, itching violently for a fight.

• Associated symbols are a chalice, a red-and-white rose, a serpent, a firework, the phoenix, the boar, sake bottles, and peaches
  
  

╔ Religion ╗ ╔ Addiction ╗ ╔ Guardianship ╗╔ Celebration ╗╔ Devotion ╗ ╔ Glory ╗ ╔ Legendary Deeds ╗ 

He holds himself with a royal air he seeks to prove he has earned, despite this it is clear at times that he is not so haughty as he first appears, that there is a small crack in his shining armor. All the same, he is what he is, and he has confidence in the base of it; if only others see it true.

There are times when Oath has a difficult time staying his tongue, and as such is prone to simply speaking before analyzing his words to decide whether he truly means them. For this reason, many see him as a malicious being best left to his own devices, and for the most part, this is exactly what Oath desires, he is an incredibly fickle beast who cannot stand to be annoyed or spoken down to, and who often takes unkindly to being bothered. Even those thoughts he refrains from making known are often volatile and intrusive.

Deep down, he wishes to be desired for what he is, to be seen as a captivating creature worthy of seeking out and working for the privilege of knowing, he can come off as full of himself, how much of this is true and how much of it is an act he puts on an effort to pull off the adage of 'fake it until you make it' is unknown

Perhaps oddly, he seems to have a strange Love-Hate relationship with crows, ravens, and the creatures which resemble them, sometimes seeing fit to ignore them, and other times going out of his way to hunt and devour them. On the other hand, he has a seemingly a dear relationship with doves and pigeons, often seen with flocks of them, they nest confidently in the places he calls Home, and rarely seem to fall victim to illness or predation. A select few seem somehow more intelligent than regular birds, considered harbingers of his presence either literal or metaphorical.

Oath wishes to live his life free from the demands of others, to amass treasures and people which make him happy, and to gain the respect and reverence he believes he is entitled to.

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•  Smells like warm feathers and dry grass

• A hopeless romantic despite it all.

• Secretly hates his volatile nature, but feels worse when he tries and then fails to keep it in check

• Comes off as confident, and to an extent he really truly is; knows he's beautiful, knows his strength.

• That being said, inhabited by a deep shame as well, and a need to be loved for his genuine self.

• Blood, tears, and most other fluids are gold. Saliva is mostly clear, but with a faint shine.

• Inner flesh is also gold, superficial flesh is pink.

• Sings often, capable of both singing in the human sense of the word, and flutelike 'birdsong'

• Empathetic to a terrible extent, picks up on the moods and emotions of those around him instantly, his own mood is deeply tied to those of his company, if any. Good for reading people, terrible for mental health. A small reason for his isolation.

• Hates to cry, would rather lash out in anger given the chance, embarrassed by his own weeping whenever he does so and not in a cute way.

• Collects beautiful and often enchanted objects.

• Associated symbols are a treasure chest, the pigeon, a map, gold coins, a golden rose, gemstones, a ring, and autumn birches. 

╔ Treasure-hunting ╗ ╔ Search for the Self ╗ ╔ Demands of Respect ╗╔ Pigeons & Doves ╗ ╔ Unwritten Contracts ╗ 

It is true that of all the Sphinx gods, Wish is one of the most innocent, this cannot be denied.

Yet if one were to choose a creature to match or perhaps even exceed Wish's purity of heart, that creature would be Hallow, his heart is feather light, mind seemingly unclouded by things like hatred and vanity. Peaceful by nature, he sooner flees than fights, in fact it seems sometimes like Hallow is in an eternal state of fleeing, as if he were a shooting star;

His nature is playful as a spring fawn and twice as gentle, playing an eternal game of keep away, he enjoys such games of tag and hide-and-seek with those who would enter his glade, disappearing among the blue and lavender hues of the forest like a shadow on the sea. Should one manage to actually catch or lure him, they might find him a quiet conversationalist, but friendly and an excellent listener. He's a nonejudgemental sort, who will gladly lend his heart and mind to those around him should they need a pool to reflect at.

Hallow's magic is inherently one of healing, even being in his presence increases the body's natural inclination to mend, and a touch of his horn instantly knits wounds, and dispels both disease and poison alike, the last of which it is capable of cleansing from the body, as well as from food and drink, as they say any unicorn's horn may do.

As much as he is innocent, there is something, at times, almost like fear to the boy, he rarely leaves the Hallowglade he resides within, for its trees and shadows keep him safe as the night sky keeps safe the stars.

Hallow is plagued by terrible nightmares of death and violence, contributing somewhat to his anxious nature, they are unsettling dreams, perhaps of things that have been or will be, or perhaps nothing at all.

Hallow drifts through life like the puff of a dandelion set loose by errant breath, he seems to have no particular goals in mind.

Unless...

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• Scent is soft, clean, and soothing. Relatively neutral. Underlying sweet tones, almost seaside tints.

• Loves to play, tag and hide-and-seek are favorites.

• Stars in his hair and fur twinkle and change, they are not exact.

• His eyes do not reflect what he is looking at, but instead distant celestial bodies, if he leaves his forest they reflect his home woods, or the sea.

• He has an innate fear of fire but is unable to explain why, campfires tend to be grudgingly tolerated.

•  Hates violence, will avoid combat if possible.

•  Has a dreamy air to him, does not strike people as entirely 'real' when he is seen.

•  Capable of dispelling even death, yet his whims in doing so seem to vary, will not always do this.

•  Enjoys snow, although his forest is never bare and the leaves never fall, it does snow in winter, a strange winter-spring wonderland.

•  There is a fountain in the center of his forest, which somehow still flows despite the lack of seeming way for it to do so, the water has magical effects on those who drink from it, when blessed by Hallow's touch.

• Associated symbols are the moon, a starry sky, a lantern, dreamcatchers, the spider, the moth, the nightingale, the blue rose, and a fountain.

╔ Dreams and Prophecy ╗ ╔ Overcoming Sorrow ╗ ╔ Fairytales ╗╔ Stars and Celestial Bodies ╗ ╔ Silent Vigil ╗  ╔ Night’s Embrace ╗ 

In the beginning, there was one Sphinx in all of Hangata. He spent his days in service to a cruel, wicked queen, in a castle by the sea. Terrible was she, and terrible things she did to the Sphinx-God. But one day, unable to take it any longer, the Sphinx King tore himself into shards; And of those shards, nothing was greater or more terrible than the shadow cast by the great loathing and isolation of his heart. Given form, that loathing tore the queen asunder, and cast her corpse into the sea beneath the darkened castle.

He dubbed himself War. Dubbed himself Tyurann; Tyrant Shade.

It is there that the tyrant shade remains, waging war from his kingdom on the universe that allowed such atrocities to befall him in the first place. Rejecting even the title of king, General Tyurann's path burns its way slowly across the world he was unceremoniously born into

Born of strong emotion, Tyurann is deeply empathic, able to easily discern the moods and motivations of others, a skill often used for cruelty or to further his own means. Brutal in the execution of his will, it would be easy to write the beast off as a monster and nothing else. But despite it all, there is a glimmer of light present even within his great shadow, for this cruelty is rarely turned upon any but foes or the otherwise deserving, and those kingdoms which fall beneath his rule are ruled with a surprising fairness, dredged up from the dirt and repaired after any destruction, like a great wildfire growing things anew.

While War does his best for his people, he is not a stable beast, he is prone to a mania which quickly turns to violence, he has a love for battle, and has a known streak of cruelty, he enjoys seeing those he hates suffer and is more than happy to be the one to make them do so. 

War's goals are simple; bring as much of the world under his control as possible, by violence if necessary. His is a hunger eternal.

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• Carries the scent of smoke, gunpowder, and sea-damp ash.

• Intelligent, capable of charismatic speeches and lovely words, is often casual and more than a little vulgar however

• Obsessive, tends to latch on to things and then hoard them, sometimes, this is people. Does not 'Collect' people on purpose however, has incredibly high standards, and may not take to one person just because they resemble one of 'his' people.

• Deeply attracted to weakness, physical, mental, emotional, but also, attracted to loyalty, and to comfort.

•  Saliva, tears, and most other fluids are black, sometimes viscous and sticky.

• Hyper Empathic to the point where it's driven him to the edge of his own mind, trusts almost no one

• Cursed shortly after his creation, golden rootlike structures puncturing flesh, endlessly growing tails and arms and wings, often tears them out to keep them in check, incredibly painful. Has lost an eye to it, may one day die. The more cruelty he displays the faster the golden thorns grow and overtake his body, the more kindness he displays the slower they grow. One day, this curse may kill even a god.

• Excellent tactition, brutal, but extremely clever and efficient under military conditions. Goes by 'General' rather than 'King' in formal situations and prefers it that way.

• Associated symbols are a sword, shield, broken chains, the lion, the wolf, beer, armor, the red and black rose, bloodied bandages, and the hawk. 

╔ Conquest ╗ ╔ Honorable Battle ╗ ╔ Curses & Their Breaking ╗╔ Soldier's Comradery ╗ ╔ Fields of Ruin ╗ 

Tender of touch and heart alike, Bridemere is the God called upon by brides and grooms wishing to tie their hearts together in an official capacity, she is the God called upon by mothers and fathers seeking protection and guidance for their children, and the God called upon by children who's parents do not Deserve Them, and by would-be parents hoping for children of their own.

Soft and somewhat timid by nature, Bridemere is usually content to let the other Gods of Hangata wage their wars and entangle one another as they will in their actions without getting involved indepth, war and subterfuge are of no interest to her.

What is of interest to her are people, especially those in love, and in particular; children. While some parents tell their children stories of The Wanderer, and how he will steal away naughty children or those who wander off the paths, the Children have their own stories; If your parents are cruel to you, you need only call upon Her to be whisked away to a place far away, where you shall never have to see them again, where they cannot lay hands on you, and where you will be Loved.

Despite her demure facade, she is fierce, and has teeth, when she needs to, and is every bit as capable of violence, perhaps moreso, than any of the other great Gods of Hangata should her particular strength be needed.

A God of fertility, she has the fondness of those who work the land as well, able to bring forth plants from one barren earth, and to bless herds with young, should she see fit.

As the other Gods wage their wars, fight their battles, and attempt to turn the world in their favor, she drifts behind them, pulling those left behind from the wreckage. Her goals are simple, the guardianship of those most at risk.

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• Smells of roses, almond, and sweet milk

• The patroness of a number of orphanages 

• Generally conducts herself as a traditional wife and bride, but does not demand the same of others, first and foremost a God who believes that there is no Correct way to be in a relationship so long as all those involved are Happy

• Supposedly has a Husband of her own, but if she does, it isn't one of the other Sphinx Gods

• Protective of children more than any other, very willing to kill for them

• Usually referred to as She/Her/Wife/Mother, but like most of the Gods, isn't actually beholden to a specific gender

• Tends to be quiet in her anger, when she kills it isn't messy, but it is efficient

• Associated symbols are wheat, pomegranate, dandelions, the red rose, the cow, the nanny goat, the bear, and the rat

╔ Parenthood ╗ ╔ Love ╗ ╔ Fertility ╗╔ Protection of the Weak ╗ ╔ Hearth & Home ╗ ╔ Compassionate Guidance ╗ 

What exactly Chronicle reigns over isn't something anyone seems to have much clarity in regards to. He wanders worlds, archiving them in his minds eye, what does he do with that information? Well, it's hard to say, he must be putting that information somewhere, after that? Hm...

Left to his own devices, he's a good person who goes out of his way to assist others, and will throw himself into the fray to protect the downtrodden. Although he is usually laid back and relatively docile, deep down he has a fiery spirit, and once his usually deep wells of patience run out he will gladly start a fight with anything too irritating.

Youthful, at times hot-headed and a little flashy, he likes to have a good time, although between these moments he can be prone to a deep melancholy, his memory swings between Photographic and Littered with Holes, he hates to forget things, but seems often to do so anyway.

Something about him seems just a little spoiled, he has a fondness for good food and an even deeper fondness for booze, even if it isn't so good, a common sight in bars, if he isn't out and about on a...Job? Then he usually has a bottle nearby if not directly inhand.

Although he seems to be on good terms with all of the other Gods, they seem to treat him a little differently than they do one another, although they also seem to regard him with fondness. Perhaps surprisingly, he's often seen in Whiteout's territory, and is a known go-between in regards to he and Wander.

Like the other Gods, he always has something or other for his followers to assist him with, although at times those tasks may seem strange or erratic. He enjoys speaking with his pactbearers, and likes to be seen as someone those beneath him can rely on.

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• Smells of old books and fine cologne 

• Will drink basically any booze, but prefers top shelf. 

• Likes to look sharp, has a deep disdain for looking 'frumpy' in public. 

• Usually banged up in some way, likes to spar and likes to start fights, so usually bandaged up. 

• Loves poetry and has a collection of personal poetry books. As well as a few notebooks for his own work. 

• Smokes, cigarettes most of the time, but will use a Kiseru in situations where elegance is called for 

• Gender is...Nebulous, though most often seen in masculine apparel, it is not uncommon to see otherwise.

• Hates to lose anyone

• Associated symbols are an open book, the sunset, the orange rose, a quill, the owl, the hourglass, red wine, and teardrops. 

╔ Knowledge ╗ ╔ Memory ╗ ╔ Secrets ╗ ╔ Archives ╗ ╔ Truth ╗ ╔ Storytelling ╗  ╔ Sorrow ╗

Puppet is an uptight, grumpy, irritable beast with little patience for fun and games, or at the very least that's how he's careful to present himself. Of all the Gods he is the only one to maintain a truly neutrally positive relationship with all of his kin, he does not play favorites, and he always makes sure that his promises are fulfilled in a timely manner.

It is his job to see the contracts of the world fulfilled, and that workspaces are running fluidly and efficiently, although he proclaims to be entirely Neutral, and he conducts himself in a way that is easily taken for such, he actually hates to see people treated unfairly or with cruelty, and his dedication to rules and lines of order are borne primarily out of a desire to keep society functioning and those around him safe and cared for.

He may deny it, but he has a great love of logic and word games, such as word-association games or twenty question type riddles, if he lived in the modern world he would definitely be the sort who secretly played mobile games between work meetings.

Most of the jobs he passes on to his followers are actually requests from the other Gods who they could not find one of their own pactbearers to complete, but like every God of Hangata, he has his own agenda as well, even if he doesn't speak often on the subject.

A creature of the cities, Puppet maintains a humanoid form more often than most of the other Sphinxes save for War and Whiteout, he mingles easily with humanity and dislikes to spend long stretches of time in the 'barbaric wilderness' so to speak.

Half or more of his job is just outsourcing jobs the other Gods didn't have time for or thought they were too good for

The foremost expert on Technology in Hangata, he can even fix most technology from outside worlds if so inclined

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• Smells of ink and leather

• If you invite him to play a game, he likely won't join, if you simply begin playing say, a word association game around him, he almost always will.

• As bound by chains as others are, trapped in his own role.

• Doesn't like to fight and he isn't built for it; with the exception of a pair of sharp hidden fangs, Puppet is Venomous.

• Somewhat neurotic, actually suffers badly from OCD and occasional hallucinations, usually involving insects and contamination.

• Loves street food, spicy noodles are a favorite.

• Has off-duty hours, what he does during them...That's his business.

• Neutral faction-wise, assists the other Gods as needed so long as he is paid.

• Associated symbols are chains, a contract, a marionette, an ink pen, the viper, the purple rose, black leather, silver coins, and clockwork. 

╔ Contracts ╗ ╔ Diligence ╗ ╔ Bureaucracy ╗ ╔ Chains & Captivity ╗ ╔ Authority ╗ ╔ Control ╗ ╔ Order & Structure ╗