Zoeysalisu​:

Only one with precision could envision the gorish nightmares that Bastien forced upon them. Each stringent tether weaves it's way across the battlefield and into the minds of fools that might believe rest would give them an upper hand in strategy, and Leviathan feeds more power through all that connects her to the oracle. "What will they do next?" She doesn't mean to stop him in his tracks, rather two birds with one rather large stone, "Their attempts have been feeble. I don't distrust that they might not have a trick up their sleeve." Elusive as the Asphodel might be, she wasn't foolish to believe that the wretches of this earth and the next couldn't attempt to reciprocate it. "And while you're at it, do tell me what is going on with out dear Levent."

Break them, there was no further encouragement that Bastien would need. He had directed his magic towards his visions, had pulled the sights straight from the hands of the Graeae so that they may lay waste to the city. "With pleasure," came his giddy reply, before he turned his sights upon those that would fall pray. A vision was conjured, brought forth of the decimation that awaited the city of Rome. And into the minds of those that stood against the Asphodel it went. Destruction, bloodshed, torn bodies that scattered the once idyllic streets. He pressed upon them, further and further, until all they could see, think, believe was their approaching demise. It was the eruption of screams that brought the satisfied grin to his lips, that had his eyes closing with a hum at a job well done. "And that was simply a taste."

augustcavaliere​:

“No, no we won’t.” The senate would establish order in the city once more, their enemies would align, and then they would come for the coven. The Asphodel had invited them here and whether the senate knew it or not, they’d play right into their hands. “But, who’s hiding?” August asked rhetorically as he fixed his gaze upon the Pythia with equal parts awe and amazement, “I leave tomorrow to perform my final rite, effective immortality, my final pledge to the necronomicon.” The cost was substantial, so many lives would go noticed at a time like this, August had no choice but to perform it elsewhere away from the prying eyes of the senate and the marshals who would stand to intervene.

August had stood proudly at the Pythia’s side along with the Egotist and Lucretia when the Asphodel had proclaimed themselves responsible for the massacre at Halloween and devotedly sided with the architect who’d bring about the destruction of the status quo. Good. The witch had come to Rome to seek vengeance for his disappeared father, but in Erik’s absence he found only dead whispers and broken promises - Pythia had found him as a broken ruined thing and together they’d reunited the shattered necronomicon alongside the others.

There was no act that the witch would not throw himself into on the Pythia’s behalf, where there were some who may have doubted their supremacy August had always known the power behind the figure. From childhood’s hour Python had guided his hand, his blade, his magic, when he was cornered it was blood that had set him free. “The blessed… Their presence.” August had felt their arrival within the city, it was unmistakable. “How can we destroy them?” They had undoubtedly come here to put an end to their plans, to put an end to the Pythia, something August would never allow.

Still, the wickedness in her smile grew. Dripping with venom with the premise of a tantalizing sweetness as movements of a dancer drew her nearer the witch. Undoubtedly, she knew that none of them were so willing to hide any longer. The rise of the Asphodel was monumental; bringing about a world in those she sought after would no longer be forced to remain hidden. A world unto chaos. “Luckily, they’re fools and won’t notice their mistake until they’re already within our grasp.” Fickle, the minds of protectors - too busy with the offence to consider proper defensive strategy. It was, after all, how all else had fallen into their very laps. August had spoken to her many times about the ritual, about all it required and all that could come of it. The greatest of sacrifices to the Necronomicon - to her and the Goddess of True Death. Delicate features relegated his own now, silken tresses shifting as she tilts her head and reaches to brush fingertips beyond his ear, “I’ll be with you.” Regardless of where she was - she would be with all of them come their final rite.

Every so often; the turn of the century would bring to her a being or two that held a special place among those that served. Those that personified every ounce of fury and malice that she carried with her - born of Ulthar’s betrayal and Leviathan’s fury - August Cavaliere was one of those. “The Necronomicon knows’ what’s in your heart, I know you.” Far lesser men had sold their soul in it’s entirety. With frail drive and hollow machinations - but not August. “I look forward to seeing you upon your return.” In helping him to understand the full extent of the power it granted him; all that he could wield and all that he could burn in her stead. For all he’d given, her guidance and protection was deserved. “We’ll have much to discuss.” It was a feeling that he would undoubtedly come to recognize, where one followed - the rest were sure to follow, those tasked with hunting down the fallen and all those that stood in their way would not take lightly to Pythia’s resurgence. “I was wondering when you would begin to feel them. You must remember it, August. How it felt.” Too many would see him as little more than an outreach of her own power; and they’d be right. As long as the Asphodel continued to grow in power; so would she. “They can be banished, given the right tools and those willing to participate.” However, “Destroying one doesn’t come so easily, unfortunately.” Lips pursed tightly together and ran her tongue across her teeth indignantly, “The only way is with a seraph blade, wielded only by the divine themselves.” 

Lanfear | The Wheel of Time 2x07

@adatiiel​ “You don’t see it as you’re never there at the end of their days, they’re nothing more then collateral damage to you but I am with all of them – there is not a soul that is wiped from this earth that is not known by me” Pythia’s heart had become lost long ago, enshrouded by the darkness that become her being, clouding out what once was good – now she only wanted destruction, darkness and death – Adatiel couldn’t escape her if she tried. The seraphim had been created from the cosmos to fight the first darkness that had blotted out the world and they had been called again to restore the natural order. “I won’t try to convince you to the goodness that exists within humanity, they are flawed and yet they still try to do better – you are not the creator of worlds and we won’t allow you to destroy the world completely” There is only one set of lips that she would listen to an order from, to bring about the end of the world will only be allowed by Ulthar.

The longer she spoke, the more tiring the whole exchange began to feel. The bleeding heart within her sister, however accepting of those she ushered beyond death, surely understood that such a burden could be wiped from her conscience were the mortals no longer upon this earth. Though, neither was Pythia so willing to offer the obvious argument to one who undoubtedly knew as much already. “Blah, blah, blah..” Her nose turned up in impatient disgust at the tirade offered to her, much like all those before. “And their constant attempts for better continue to be a let down, time and time again. How long should they be offered more chances to, as you say, better themselves? Or shall we watch for all eternity as they ponder the gift given to them and you... carry the weight of knowing each of them?” They’re menial, amounting to nothing in her eyes. “It’s been a long time since I’ve made decisions based on what any of you would allow me to do. It would better ease your disappointment if you simply stood aside.”

@adatiiel​

The smiley face was a clever move, one that brought a hitch of a smile to Adatiel's mouth even as their search turned up empty. Being the angel of death meant that she reaped everyone who fell, allegiance didn't matter when their days came to an end. She wasn't to fight, her hands didn't call for violence as she was the result of whatever came to be. Adatiel often satisfied her whims, whenever she wished to see someone she did. It was why she felt that a conversation with her wayward sister was long overdue. "Are you happy with the wraiths that you trapped within your walls? Spirits that remain and grow in vengeance can become a dangerous weapon. The spirits are very angry with you."

_

Was she? Happy? As if to make crystal clear, Pythia's smile grew to maniacal proportions, the feint giggle that slipped between her lips eerie at best, and horrifying in the shape it took. "Sister, don't take it so personally. If anything, you should be rather grateful that I led you right to them. The pesky little things." Those that lingered within the walls, wraiths that screamed endlessly, clawing at every sense of humanity that remained, every ounce of their blood riddled empathy had risen as a symphony in the halls of the Asphodel. "Angry? At me?" The pout that settled against porcelain skin feigned innocence that would never look quite right, "Then consider their anger a gift, in the efforts you and the rest of them should make to try and stop me. I daresay, you'll need it."

_

"I don't need your help to find the dead" what ego but Pythia did always carry one, spirits have always beckoned her and she is the angel that is there in the last moment of life. Adatiel was to not be confused with a guardian angel as she did not protect nor decide who lived and died, merely knew when their time had come to an end, when the hourglass had finally run out. Those that died while being tormented or moments of great emotional impact became wraths. As someone who holds death and life in equal care, it is difficult for the seraphim to accept such cruelty. "I wish to hear it from your lips sister, tell me how you wish for this to all end. Do you really wish for darkness to blot out the world?"

_

“No? You’ll have to forgive me for my lacking faith in your.. abilities.” For a millennia, so many of her kind - their kind had done little more than squalor their potential. Bending to the whims of a father who cared for lesser creatures before his own children. Sighing heavily, something more of contentment than anything else, the Pythia smiled quietly to herself. “And why shouldn’t it?” Tongue clicked against her teeth and the brunette eyed the other with irate mischief, cold and calculating - unyielding. “Because daddy dearest said so? They’ve done little but squander the world given to them. Destroyed and plundered a place they’ve never sought to earn. I say, - burn it all to hell.”

sacrilcgiovs​:

where. the new asphodel home when. a few days after who. @fxllenpythia​

“I see you’ve wasted no time settling in,” he stated with an easy air of superiority, which came long before he ever donned the title of Sovereign, or Senator, for that matter. Though, when it came to Pythia, it would never have mattered, for despite his show of titles, everything he had ever earned for himself was at the benefit of her. “Shall I find your little oracle to thank, or would my gratitude fall to you?”

The lengthy twist of her smile as he chides her is minute, enough to cast weary indifference in his direction as she peeks up at him from the comfort of the chaise lounge she occupies. “You should be far more impressed, Kaan. I only moved twice as quickly as you did in securing your place within a second coven. Though, I suppose you had to learn treachery from somewhere, didn’t you?” It’s little more than a jest - his occupation amuses her greatly and has for centuries now. “My oracle? Do you truly believe this is all due to some little prophecy? Tsk. Tsk. Where’s your faith?”

BENSU SORAL as azra └ Özel Ders. (2022)

Pythia

NAME/ALIASES. Leviathan, Python, Pythia AGE & BIRTH DATE. Prehistoric & Unknown SPECIES. Aspect GENDER & PRONOUNS. UTP AFFILIATIONS. Asphodel Coven OCCUPATION. UTP FACECLAIM SUGGESTIONS. Andrew Koji, Anya Taylor Joy, Benedetta Gargari, Berk Cankat, Brianne Tju, Kiowa Gordon, Cara Gee, Evan Mock, Conor Leslie, Lucien Laviscount, Josha Stradowski, Adria Arjona.

History

In the beginning they were known as Leviathan, among the first of Ulthar’s creations. Leviathan was an archangel that was born for war, a general in the armies of the divine that raged against the Old Gods that ruled the mortal realm. Centuries of conflict and grief punctuated the beginning of Leviathan’s life, it was when the final battle was won and the fighting was declared over that the archangel expected to reap the rewards that were promised to them - to live on the earth that they’d fought so long to inherit. When the fey came they brought with them the seasons, they brought the tides and the trees, all the things that would come to make the world beautiful and Titania promised this all on the condition that Ulthar lent his magic to hers and helped to create the first of mankind. Humanity. Born with free will but weak, breakable frames. Humans were to never know war or greed or pride, they were the jewels of Ulthar’s creation and the first of Titania’s children. When Leviathan’s father asked the angels to kneel - it was Lucifer who first refused. War was all Leviathan had ever known and when they fought next it was to earn the dominion that they already deserved, angels faced the fey of old back when they were still elves. The greatest of them fell, but it was Melpomene and her sisters that Leviathan drove back into the farthest reaches of the Otherworld, forgotten wind. Great as they were, the fallen were beaten and for their crimes The First, Oztalun, cast Leviathan into the Inferno - to the seventh circle where they came to go by a new name, Python.

Tiamat found them there, they whispered their plans for humanity and Python wove their influence into the heart of witches as the Inferno corrupted the fallen angel and gradually transformed them into a greater demon. Tiamat would come to be known by a new name as well, dread Persephone, true goddess of death, Python led her to the heart of the archdruid Netellia, deeming her weak and susceptible as the greater demon worked their way into the mortal realm via mass invocation. Though they were still weak, they held a blood pact that solidified their hold on all witches who invoked them for the power they offered. Through the necronomicon they were mae able to influence this world, every soul that was fed to it gave them more power, more influence. When one plan fell through another bloomed in its place, they were the great liar, the great deceiver, and they dwelt in the heart of all who looked to the dark for power. Pythia came as their final name, a title they earned as they ferried souls to the dark folds of the Asphodel, given form and power once again with the return of the ancient coven of darkness. Another mask, another lie, another name to hide behind. No one could see the dragon that lurked beneath, all the world against them - humans, angels, demons, witches, druids, fey, and still they would bring about the end. A revolution, the dawn of the new age, a return to a world of fire. The age of humanity would end and that of the forgotten would begin.

Connections

Octavian: Netellia died by Tiamat’s influence, but it was Python that felt the weakness in the archdruid’s heart. Octavian would come to blame Python for the corruption of his sister, and her ultimate death. 

Melpomene: In the war between the fallen and the divine, Leviathan defeated Melpomene and drove her back into the Otherworld, trapping her there for thousands of years. 

Michael: Siblings. Michael fought against Pythia during the rebellion and was part of the forces that condemned the fallen to the Inferno.

Abilities

Python: As a greater demon Pythia possesses all the powers of lesser demons: hellfire manipulation, telepathy, telekinesis, and the ability to shift into domestic animals. 

Fallen Archangel: Despite their connection being severed from the divine realm, Pythia is able to control the flow of magic, meaning they can turn any supernatural creature human, restore a chimera, heal feral vampires, and undo the packs they’ve made with blood witches. 

Immortal: Created from pure magic, Pythia is inhuman and cannot be killed. If their body is destroyed they will simply move on and possess another. 

Psychometry: As one of the fallen they’ve retained the power of psychometry, they can read the impressions left on objects, people, and places and establish a psychic link through this connection.

Weaknesses

Angelic: Hallowed ground burns their feet, as one of the fallen they’re incapable of stepping foot onto churches or graveyards. 

Demonic: Unable to cross salt lines, Pythia can be confined to a single form if they’re trapped within a circle of it.

Witches: All witches can sense the presence of the Pythia, blood witches in particular have made pacts with them under the guise of the greater demon Python and will know when they’re around. 

Possession: Does not have a form of their own, with permission they can possess the body of the living, or they can possess the body of the deceased. 

THIS SKELETON IS CURRENTLY CLOSED.

Natasha O'Keeffe + WHEEL OF TIME S2 Bloopers

camila queiroz via instagram

“Ah,’ the sound drew out as she watched his haphazard gesture, “I certainly hear that nostalgia is a bit of a fickle bitch.” Perhaps for all of those beyond her. It wasn’t exactly something that had ever pressed concern into the forefront of her mind. Pythia wasn’t one to wonder on past or future endeavors. Taboo, all that she’d offered had always existed in the darkest corners of magic, all those that sought to tether themselves knew the risk. Knew how quickly they’d fall into the realms of pariah among their own people. An inevitability. That hadn’t taken the sharp sting out of the slaughter that he’d suffered. A shame and a waste, even if his soul bolstered the book and her regardless. It seemed as time passed, the commitment of those that pledged themselves to the Asphodel grew less stern. The followers of yesterday were certainly something else. “Between your willingness and the knowledge you bring with you, I’m certain I can find something to do with you. How close are you to the others of your bloodline? The senate?” It’s an immediate thought, and as much as she expects an answer, already she is sifting through ways in which she could use Seth for her own gain. “I have a few witches you can see, they can bolster your enhanced abilities, give you a little more... bite, if you should so wish it.”

fxllenpythia​:

It was a strange thing, to be so connected to so many. To hear so many thoughts and feel the tremor of even their deepest, darkest emotions. However deeply buried they might have been, she felt them, a distant tremor in the base of her skull that she could so easily diminish. To reach out and pull at a single string and watch the entwinement of all who belonged to her and the book unravel within the palm of her hand. Too often, it left her giddy. “Tepiltzin, I was wondering when you’d find your way back to me.” They always did - it wasn’t often that one could experience all that she could offer and find such an infinite way to sever themselves. Greed was a rife poison that lingered in even the most well-rounded of creatures. Without second thought, she moves; each step neither too prominent nor inaudible as she finds herself within reach, fingertips shifting the flesh of his upper lip until she can press the pad of her thumb into the fang that elongates under the will of her own thought, “I’m not sure I like you better this way, but I suppose we shall see, won’t we?” Her vessel bleeds, a bead of crimson growing until it spills onto his lip. Even as one of the fallen, the power she carries stains that of the being she possesses, offering him but a menial taste of what he’d once had. “Is that what this is about? You want to join the band of God-killers?”

          Seth always garnered this irreverent sense. As a druid he was heedless and adamant in his pull to power, betrayed his own family, slaughtered those who looked to him for guidance. It had led him to the Pythia, a gravelly promise whispered into the night of something more, trials toiled away on. “I don’t know,” it’s a frivolous response paired with a careless shrug, he never liked to seem too eager even in light of a greater demon who’d pulled the strings of life and death to slaughter a god. “I just wanted to see if the past was still interesting.” He’d gotten a rather cult following of his druid community, all in lieu of Pythia’s influence, but they’d turned against him, placed him on the blood-soaked slab of concrete to slaughter in retribution. Dedication to Mars was faint, he was a vampire by circumstance not by solidified choice; his sire had offered him the pieces to the puzzle and he’d taken them with interest only spurred by ego. He’d be a weakness if he could not capitalize on newfound abilities bestowed upon him. “I’m not sure what use a vampire would be to you, but here I am regardless.” Seth presents himself on the basis of curiosity, his past was molded and refined by the Necronomicon, it wasn’t necessarily easy to abandon, especially as their influence of followers cropped up again.