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Night of the Living Dead [Lore|Closed]

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#1Tezcatlipoca 

Night of the Living Dead [Lore|Closed] Empty Wed Oct 18, 2023 1:56 pm

Tezcatlipoca


Long gone were the days when Gods could freely walk Earthland... Instead here he stood, reduced to using a man as his vessel. Stella had changed much since ages past, and his followers were no longer as eager to sacrifice humans as they'd once been. Thus, the man's fair skin and bright blue eyes contrasted with the traditional Stellan look of his attire. Wearing the body of a Boscosi prisioner of war suited him. A little parting gift from an age of constant warfare he enjoyed much more than his brethren. He thrived in conflict, and his latest spoils were worthy of the foe he'd conquered them from:

"Without this... Samhain will no longer manifest iself in Earthland.", this resouding proclamation came from the altar high atop a pyramid, hidden deep in the jungles of Tzacualli. In his hand laid a still beating, bleeding black heart, taken from the King of Halloween himself. Tezcatlipoca was a powerful God, one of the chief deities in Stella's pre-Illuminian religion, a being with countless authorities: War, Conflict, Death... But even he lacked the power to completely defy the natural order.

And thus, with a swift, unhesitant motion, the Jaguar God thrust his palm through his own torso, punching a hole in his own bare chest without even flinching, barely betraying the grueling pain of his vessel of flesh and blood as he inserted the stolen heart into his chest, his previously bored, uninterested look finally widening into a toothy, amused grin:

"Now, Pumpkin King... I'm sure you'll be back for your heart sooner or later. But until our next battle... Dia de los Muertos should be enough entertainment for a good while."

However, the moment he implanted the heart in the center of his chest, his aura flared wider as a dark, eerie mist slowly seeped down from his position, down the center of the pyramid. The thick fog would soon cover the entire forest, spreading out wider, blocking out the sun and turning even in the sunniest of days into a dark, dreary gray. With the power of Samhain at his fingertips it would soon cover all of Stella:

"Tonight... The underworld of Mictlān will become one with the land of the living!", with a loud, boisterous boast, the incarnated God threw his arms out wide and admired his handiwork.


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