WESSEX
the wraith
The Wraith snort-chuckles. “That’s fine. I don’t like any of the other ones either. Even Eirachi’s a bitch.” Caido she might like. Mort probably comes after that. Vi and Rae she’s indifferent about but hold a bitter resentment for their prison. The heralds can fuck right off. And apparently there are Gods of seasons too. Who knows what the others are like. Shrugging, she settles into the bench for story time. “I’m the only Natural who’s died and been reborn. As far as I know. I’m the only Natural I know of who’s ruled and actually taken care of my own people. Then willingly gave it up. Most of what I’ve done has been a reaction to growing up in the hellhole that was the Hollowed Ground and feeling more or less abandoned by Gods who told us we had to sacrifice ourselves for the good of the world. We had no choice in the much of anything. Except for this,” One hand indicates herself, her body, and all the changes that came with it.
“And we all have a choice, don’t we? To follow the Old Gods. Or the New. Or none at all. If you’re asking about what makes a race, then it’s truly only the Accepted or those born with Magic. People choose to Attune or Ascend. Look at the Attuned - they can even talk amongst themselves without us hearing it and that seems pretty culty and insular to me.”
She pauses and then looks at Morgan. “If you’re going to apply certain criteria, you have to apply it to all, not just a selective group.”
she's pullin' the trigger
cause it's me and the moon, she says
and i have no trouble with that
