#the omphalos

[windupaymeric]

'I think this is the first time she's smiled this whole endeavor.'

[roegadynroost]

Roevember theme was Skies~ I originally was gonna go to the cloud deck but I thought the Omphalos was too pretty to pass up!

[photosfromeorzea]

Temples of Azeyma & Byregot

[melissa-robin-ultros]

Piss clouds

[s-c-r-ee-ch]

Apollo Pythios seated on the omphalos

Unknown creator, 500 BCE - 400 BCE

Museo archeologico nazionale di Napoli Naples, Italy

[fromthedust]

Omphaloskepsi — contemplate these navels: including carved limestone (1), fired ceramic (2), modeled clay (1), 19th century carved marble (1), cast bronze w light liver of sulfur patina (1), cast bronze with verdigris patina (1), cast bronze from ancient Rome (2), life-cast plaster (1), an anorexic (1) and seventeen others.

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 25 Perpetuity

(Spoilers for the end of Endwalker's Myths of the Realm)

Aeryn stood in Omphalos and watched the engine work. Its motions were hypnotic as it circled around itself, drawing in hopes and prayers, and dispersing that energy back into the world to aid humanity. A device of akasha and aether, elegant and lovely.

A familiar step sounded on the stone behind her, accompanied by the equally familiar pitter-patter of smaller feet, making her smile and hold out a hand to let the tiny opo-opo leap up and scramble up her arm to give her a friendly nuzzle.

“No treats, no matter how the little fellow begs,” Deryk said lightly. “He’s coming off a bout of upset stomach.”

“Poor baby,” Aeryn cooed, leaning her head against the creature, who chirred against her neck.

The wanderer stopped next to her, also looking up at the instrument of blessing. The collaborative work of ages, she was never sure he was aware of the slight smile and melancholic light in his eyes when he gazed upon it.

“So,” he said. “We meet here yet again. And again I ask: come to a conclusion yet?”

“No,” Aeryn replied, as shaking her head would dislodge the opo-opo, who was now playing with her hair. “When you first brought us here, and revealed the Twelve and their heavens, I’d hoped to find some answer. But it seemed more of the same. Divinity is just a construct of man, formed in desperation and empowered by prayer.”

Deryk nodded. “I can say there is a world of difference between what I was, and who I am now.”

“That’s a matter of power scale, which can be overcome.”

“In part, certainly,” he agreed. “But it’s more than that.” He looked aside, his gaze falling on the gate to the Heaven of Wind. “Sometimes the memories seem more like dreams, and too much for my fragile mortal mind. The time is incomprehensible—and that’s even before taking into account the man whose soul inspired Oschon’s existence.” He turned to Aeryn again. “Am I still not real, merely a construct?”

“Of course you’re real. And so was Oschon. Just born of humanity, like anyone else.”

“Hydaelyn created the Twelve,” he reminded her.

“From the energies of Her comrades. To perform roles and duties for which mankind worshiped them for, and in so doing, altered irrevocably.” She sighed. “And my feelings on Hydaelyn—on Venat—are likewise still complicated.”

“I understand that,” Deryk agreed. “I did not feel so before, but now? It’s a strange thing indeed. I’m not the man who aided in Hydaelyn’s creation; he is long dead, his aether given to form Hers, a fragment of his remnant soul used to create that which men called Oschon. Me, with an omnipresent view and ability to stride across this world we so loved as either the concept of wind, or in this form.” He gestured to his body. “I sometimes wonder if we took on avatars because some part of us yet remembered and yearned to be mortal again.”

“I’m certain I met Nymeia and Althyk’s original selves in Elpis,” Aeryn said, scratching under the opo-opo’s chin. “I helped with creations they were evaluating, and described the rite of flowers for the departed when some creatures were lost in an accident with others. There was familiarity in their divine personas, but they didn’t remember. Not really.”

“Yet they never lost sight of who they were to one another,” Deryk said, that sad smile on his face again. “They never struggled with it, unlike Menphina and myself.”

Aeryn raised a questioning brow.

“Of course I loved her—who didn’t?” he laughed. “In our first life, she was a brilliant young woman, and it was no wonder her divine self became who she was, and set to the tasks Hydaelyn chose. And we cared for one another, as we Twelve were family in our way. But was any romance our own, or determined by the prayers of man?” he shrugged. “Divinity is malleable.”

“That’s one of the things I struggle with,” Aeryn said. “Should it be, or shouldn’t gods be set, in order to form and order the world, and guide their creations and humanity? Shouldn’t they be...something beyond man? Not just in power, but in origin as well?”

“The more we discuss this, what it feels like you most resent is the loss of unknowing,” Deryk replied. “That you feel faith must include the question of origin.”

Aeryn mulled that over for a moment. “That would be part of taking it on faith, wouldn’t it? Of deciding to give trust based on a hope there’s something more to guide the way.” She looked up at the instrument of blessing again. “But I know so much of the origins of our world, of the divinities, and how and why they came to be. I know what can be manifested with enough aether, but warped by those requests.” The opo-opo chirred as her shoulders slumped.

“And you know too well what has been lost—in most cases, by your own hand.”

She winced at that. “On request.”

“Who else could be trusted? Not just in power, but on...faith.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“It goes both ways, you know,” he said mildly. “Even if I know your origins—born of man, with dragon’s blood running in your veins, raised outside this land where we held the most sway, but rising in it to become the one who could learn the truth, see it clearly, and grant us our greatest desire.” He gestured to the engine swirling above them. “And now we have laid down our burdens, while ensuring our duty is secured forevermore. Because we believed in you—as She did.”

Aeryn frowned. “That’s not the same as faith in divinity.”

“Isn’t it?”

[moulong]

doodle. from Dead Sky, Black Sun , chapter 3 , sorry Uriel but…|･ω･｀)

[mimble-sparklepudding]

21. Gods.

You were foolish to wander into our realm. We could destroy you with ease here and now...but as divinities, we must demonstrate grace and forbearance.

[infirmux]

someone has underlined every mention of bread in this copy of Ulysses and written eucharist???? next to it. certainly you have the spirit of things my friend!

[windupaymeric]

'I wish I could do something...'

[photosfromeorzea]

Omphalos Temple

[ruuari]

❤︎ @golbiey

[nihilistic-god]

hide hunt mask for anyone :]

LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOO

HIDE- What does your OC hide? Why do they hide it? onyx my current blorbo my main guy for the project im doing with friends, he hides the fact that he is a hybrid of human and parasite(specifically like. the parasite from The Thing), genetically engineered in a lab to be a more sustainable and stronger human being.

the reason why he hides it is because its a massive safety risk for everyone around him. cause if he dies well um. theyre going down with him to say the least. but also because he doesnt want anyone to really think of him differently or hate him due to something he has no control over.

HUNT- Who or what is your OC hunted by? A person, a feeling, a past mistake? Is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert? onyx is hunted by an entire agency that he ran away from. he ran away because almost everyone there treated him like Shit and dehumanized him, reducing him to just a tool at their disposal. this isnt the first time hes ran away from them either, they have put gps tracking in his prosthetic arm to try and stop it but. he just ripped it out.

hes able to let his guard down slightly but not a lot. since he has already had a run-in with someone from the agency, which led to their death

MASK- Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask? figuratively, he does! onyx puts on a facade of being overly dramatic and charismatic, he was taught to be charismatic as a way to get information from people, as well as gain their trust. he pretends to understand his feelings and thoughts when really, he doesnt.

he had it pounded into his head that hes not supposed to feel anything, not supposed to have any emotions, so hes conflicted on if his thoughts are actually real, or just his brain trying to make him feel more human

[agentjr]

OHH!!? I super super super loved your map in Defy!! out of all three it was my favorite! I'm new to the whole Doom thing and that wad was recommended to me and I super fell in love all that was there, thank you for your work!!

I'm so glad you enjoyed it!! Late Arrival is my first map and I'm really proud of it. I took a lot of inspiration from the first Silent Hill, and encouragment/help from anotak. There's another project we're working on now, but no idea when that'll be released

[autumnslance]

Deific Defender

Missing the hat and gloves from the Theogonic set, but this still looks good, swapping in the Panthean Circlet dyed Metallic Sky Blue, and the undyed Appointed Gloves. Fae Axe also in Metallic Sky Blue, and some Mythrite Earrings round it out.