What one might consider a problematic situation, another might view it as a solution. There were far too many nuances to morality. ‘Right’ and ‘wrong’ were not viable, in his eyes. There was only do and do not. The limitations made one heavy with want, and the act of resisting made him sick. But it was because of the mortals, and even the Gods, and all of their limitations, that made Majari needed. When it came to disassembling the fortifications of self-censorship, Majari was king. Ultimately, he was necessary for some sort of cosmic balance, and he knew well of it. Whether he presented himself or not. came in the physical form or through whispers from within; temptation resided in every beast. It was inevitable.
He was inevitable.
But the God wasn’t concerned with his purpose and place within the world today. He was just looking for fun. Time had slipped through his paws. It moved quickly upon him and adulthood was ripe for the picking. A full mane wrapped around his head now, and his horns had grown in to their full potential; albeit one cracked off due to unfortunate circumstances. His runes, lacing across forearms and paws, were dimly lit in the absence of his power usage… and like a fairy without the belief, he was beginning to feel lethargic without some sort of mortal play. What he wanted was for fun. What he needed was a creature to succumb to their greatest desires.
And mortals were, usually, so easy to find. The easiest really. Their vices had an odor to them, a cadence that carried in the wind, and so often when he wasn’t looking for them they would surface like weeds in a meadow. But today, all he found was silence in the jungle…
And a strange sense of sadness that… did not feel his own.
The forms he took varied, but as of late he was that of a beautiful leopardess, drawing her into existence the same way he did most forms and illusions; out of an experience. One time, a rogue male was charmed into confessing his affections for the sister of his mate. Majari took her form and convinced him to meet her one evening in secret. Much to his delight, the sister in question seemed to favor the rogue as well, some sort of hatred spurned between the siblings giving way to lust. It made convincing her that much easier. And it was an effortless encounter of surrender and betrayal that worked out exactly how he wanted it to. Those were always his favorite kinds. But the trio stuck with him, in his minds eye, long after he had left them to their actualizations.
The leopardess was elegant, with long fur that fell flirtatiously across her face. Her pelt sported colors that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight, like rainbows. He moved through the jungle, a purr rumbling deep in his chest while his tail whipped from side to side, drawn in a direction.
In the direction.
Of the sadness itself. Or, so it seemed.
Perhaps it was a creature overcome with grief, seeking vengeance but unwilling to break their bonds to civility. Or a lover scorned... wishing to take back their beloved.
Or it was none of those things and, instead, a dark Goddess emanating the strongest sense of despair he had ever experienced. That would certainly be unexpected.
Moriko Omori
Boy idk where he came from but let's do this.