Micaiah | THE NORTH GOD
Micaiah Atsumi Khshesh
North God, Child of Sea and Sky, Wanderer of Worlds
» APPEARANCE DESCRIPTION:
Give her a rubicks cube and Micaiah will spend hours on it--not for the reasons you think. Solving a problem is satisfying, the sense of achievement being a motivator but just a supplementary one; Micaiah is more interested in how the cube works. How do the squares slide across one another? What mechanisms enable it to shift but stay together, stay in the same shape, and return identifiable patterns? What was going through the creator's mind when they made the rubicks cube?
Does Micaiah have the mind of an engineer? Eh, maybe a little, but it's not the most apt description. She's fond of knowing how something works and why it works, but also who made it work. Does she have the mind of a psychologist? A mindset that prompted something is interesting, but the real subject of intrigue is the story behind the cube or any other thing that catches Micaiah's attention--and also its purpose.
The drive behind her curiosity comes from a darker place than simple wonder and wanderlust. Micaiah's curiosity finds root in a desire to find purpose, and just as she's inquires the purpose of anything and everything in the world, the true motive is to know purpose in hopes of finding her own. That is to say, currently, she finds herself without one. Furthermore, it's at this point that, at least somewhere in the back of her head, she will never have purpose. Not as an individual necessarily, and especially not in the sense of serving some greater purpose, but that there's no proper "reason" for her existence. Nothing she could see as her "calling", or an existence that drives her forward. In fact, the only thing actively driving her forward and motivating her continued living is finding that driver.
It's come to a point of such desperation, and honestly Micaiah is at her wits end. It feels like she's been looking for this ephemeral concept for more than one life, and it's basically torturous. This sense of listlessness and often times inability to really feel
like there's some hope out there easily arises. There are occasional spurts of genuine hope and light in her eyes, both those moments are far and few between, and the child isn't even banking on them anymore.
Most find it an annoyance--not that she actually cares--but Micaiah has a tendency to take information in literally. As if sarcasm, idioms, and figurative philosophy escapes her, ask the girl why the chicken crossed the road and she'll respond "probably because there was something that caught it's attention? I dunno, maybe some chicken feed across the street, I don't think chickens have much of an attention span so it could've been something momentarily distracting?"
Part of this inclination is her legitimate interest in how the world works as it is, and the literal disposition of the things around her, so in reality Micaiah's first instinct is to take something seriously and literally. That said, she isn't inept or socially unaware; even in the moments of genuine literal interpretation of information, she won't always be stuck on perceiving something literally. Just a little bit of thought and she can come to the same conclusions as others.
That said, she often opts not to really let that come forward, reason being personal amusement. People's reactions to her and the lengths of literal intake she offers can be really disconcerting and strange, to the more consistently exposed, "frustrating", even. And when she takes notice to these reactions, it's kind of funny. Especially those who are trying to explain something to her when she seems to not get it? Their efforts seem wasted when she only responds in misunderstanding, and most find it hard to blame her, others just assume she's retarded, and to those who really know her, she's seen as mildly sadistic. It's all in good fun, though.
It's the playful side of hers which usually encourages her to be overly literal, and in spite of how non-conducive it is to any given situation, a lot of times she can't help herself. And its not a trait limited to just these interactions. Banter can escalate quickly with Micaiah as she often eggs on involved parties, provoking them to take actions otherwise seen inappropriate, and seeing different sides to a person can be described as a hobby to her.
More than anything, it's these small moments of teasing others that keeps her smile look real, even if they're typically held up forcefully. Through all her cynicism, despite the girl's awareness of how childish it can be, the North God finds herself unable to hold back when the situation arises. Especially because there are few things she can indulge in with earnest enjoyment, so when she finds herself being obnoxious, Micaiah excuses herself for this guilty pleasure, thinking it's okay to occasionally be a little naughty.
Beyond that, the wanderer finds herself assuming a certain persona, and when interacting with people, attending to her niche as the "literal girl" gives her a sense of self, something satisfying and motivating to maintain. Though it's mostly at her convenience, holding up to that self-standard set up for herself maintains a sort of consistency and uniformity that just "fits", and seems right.
As trends her train of thought and pattern of action, Micaiah is kind of meta with herself. This sort of meta perspective makes it difficult to take things seriously at times--most of the time, actually. The real root of her un-serious attitude towards things, to include her playfulness and intentionally literal persona, is an unhealthy dose of pessimism.
Micaiah sees her perspective and attitude, even when knowingly obnoxious and generally "not that great of a people person", as wholly reasonable. Not to say that it isn't "right", but it's certainly not wrong to act as she does, because it's not like any of what she does in the grand scheme of things really even matters. Her actions do nothing to inhibit the operations and mechanisms of the universe at large, so anything she does--especially anything she knowingly does as bad--that might offer a sense of guilt is combatted with this instinctive response of self-justification.
In her eyes, even beings of unlimited power have yet to really
do anything of lasting impact and fundamental change to the universe. Sure, there have been Demon Gods who tap into the power of death incarnate--but all people still die, and his influence and interference hasn't done anything to really change that en masse. He just has a bit more individual power. And even the races created by his will and machinations--ultimately, they haven't really done anything as far as permanency goes, so what does any of it matter? Why take any of it seriously?
This sort of pessimism extends further, so much that the philosophy operates as a catch-all fallback to justify all her actions, and furthermore affect how she sees things and others observance of its importance. For example, formalities and mannered conduct. Micaiah views it as a subjective value, and if she doesn't think it's important, then as far as she's concerned, it isn't, and the only thing upholding it as something actualised existence is others' value for it--therefore, it has no objective value.
Her thought patterns and tendency for self-justification has further transformed into some inane stubbornness. She stands by her words, stands by what she thinks, and furthermore pushes the ideology unto other people, whether or not she's even aware of it. Holding a strong belief in her own philosophy, and earnestly believing what she's seen in it as a fundamental, universal truth, it takes a lot for her to turn her head in any other direction.
Some people see this as unlimited willpower and determination--that she is unwavering and true to herself. Sure, in some lights this is absolutely true. Micaiah is determined, so much that it could quite possibly be her downfall, but getting to the core of the matter, it's more accurate to say that Micaiah has a strong distrust for other people.
The girl doesn't trust in other peoples words, and the only way of actually admitting to anyone else's perspectives or values is to see it for herself--that way, to her eyes, it is clear and irrefutable. After all, if she perceives something to be true, then as far as she's concerned and up until she then sees otherwise, it is as true as can be. That's where the real
stubborn part of Micaiah comes in.
In other words, the World-Wanderer is painted as the type to outright not listen to others. And yes, absolutely, Micaiah is in no way inclined to listen to what others have to say. In fact, attempts to challenge her own words and perspective is fiercely met with denial, argument, and refutation. Her truth is the
truth, because what makes sense to her "makes sense", and anything otherwise is literally just retarded. Worst thing is, often times the girl is entirely unaware of this hostile, infallible self, and whenever she does? Micaiah then feels pretty embarrassed, and somewhat hypocritical.
That embarrassment is drawn from recognising her wrongs. If Micaiah is wrong, whatever. If she's ignorant of it and moves forward without knowing that it's no trouble on her mind. In fact, even if she is wrong, it won't be that big of a deal; the real issue comes into place when Micaiah is proven
wrong, and once that happens, a tangible sense of shame is felt.
Being proven wrong in essence means she was supporting some fallacy. And when Micaiah supports something? Whoo, she does it with volatility. As said, Micaiah feels very strongly about being right and refuses to acknowledge anything in direct contrast and contradiction to what she believes in, so when it becomes irrefutable that what she supports doesn't hold? First of all, it has to be so steadfast and irrefutable that Micaiah's stubborn attitude is overcome, and whenever something gets to that point, and furthermore something Micaiah must admit to? Being confronted with that feeling of idiocy gets her beet red.
The root of her feelings on the matter is a sense of invalidation and insult when confronted on her beliefs to which she has a strong stance. Being wrong is, well, wrong, so she makes it a point to be right--so much that she oversteps boundaries to make it adamantly known that she's right--even when she inherently knows she's wrong but doesn't want to have to admit it.
Interesting thing is, this often works against her goals of figuring out something's purpose, why things work, and the literal background of all things around her. Doing any of that, at least most of the time, requires a fairly open mind to capable of really taking in all the information and comprehending things as they are instead of how she wants them to be, and its a personal philosophy of her that whatever she imposes on the world ultimately doesn't matter since it doesn't actually change anything, and by that manner of speaking, there's no point in imposition. This cognitive dissonance and irony of self-concept thereon further contributes to this sense of shame Micaiah intermittently feels even without the whole dynamic of being proven wrong, as just as passive thought she occasionally faces, thereon propagating into some degree of self-hate.
This self-hate, and furthermore inability to really value herself, grows in time, as once the thought is reintroduced to her, often times Micaiah will ruminate over it and strengthen the idea, especially the whole "small-feeling" perspective. Micaiah is vastly interested in "the grand scheme of things", and finds personal enjoyment in viewing the bigger picture. Part of it draws from the feeling of worldly wisdom she'll think she has, another part from feeling like she can understand how the cogs of life function on a larger scale.
Conversely, this inclination to see things from a bigger picture is more than humbling to Micaiah. With how big the universe, with how large the cogs turn, where is her place in all of this? What can she do to contribute to the cog turning, or contribute to ceasing the turning? In fact, no matter what action she takes, in the bigger picture, what impact will any of it have? The answer she's come to is: nothing much. As a speck in the universe, there's limits to what she can perform and influence on a global scale, and having come to terms that there seems to be virtually nothing to change that, Micaiah is in the process of convincing herself that she's alright with that.
But she's not. She wants to make that speck of existence she could call herself, something more than just a speck. Micaiah needs to do things, look for something, and basically find anything that could serve as a reasonable validation for her. Because as she is, Micaiah is nothing. There's nothing she can offer to the world that would make people remember her, nothing to really justify any portion of validation anyone gives her. As she is, Micaiah can't consider herself worth the time of day of anyone, and that's not okay: the girl wants to be validated, to matter, to be loved. And as a doer, she's not content with just sitting around praying that the opportunity comes to her. Micaiah intends to get out into the world and wrest the object of her desires.
That said, this also feeds back into her despondency. To make things clearer, literal gods have existed, and they've technically made few ripples to the universe. The only thing that the gods matter to are the people that they've created, so it's kind of a sense of false impact. Especially because, if even the gods can't make that large of a universal impact, then what about her? The gods are so much more capable, so much more advanced in their powers, influence, network--just superior in every way. And Micaiah isn't one to lie down and admit that she can't do what they can. But, even past that self-confidence and motivation to exceed and even supersede, the present gap between her and them is overwhelming and impossible to ignore.
ALl in all, Micaiah has particularly strong self-acceptance issues, and she's very much aware of it. That in mind, the girl does her best to correct it and do something that may acquiese her self-perception and overall negativity; unfortunately, that's not something so easily done. To get rid of that mindset is to fundamentally change a way of thinking that she's adapted to, and beyond that, Micaiah has gotten to the point of justifying this way of thinking and finding it absolutely true. Earnestly, Micaiah asks herself and responds, "Who am I? No-one, nothing." This point of frustration for her to be aware of how toxic she thinks about herself, and yet finds it valid, but wanting to change it nonetheless, breeds a powerful feeling of helplessness.
The largest contributor to her feeling of helplessness is the amount of effort she puts into the things she pursues. While Micaiah isn't presently aware of it, the object (concept) of her desire is something she's chased after for hundreds of years since birth in her past life. Being reborn was assumed as the catalyst event to finally come across something that could give her purpose, and even then she is met with failure. That inherent feeling lingers in the depths of Micaiah's soul, and despite moving forward regardless, because all she has done and continues to do never seems to go anywhere, the girl feels incredibly helpless.
The North God does her best to know herself, become the master of herself, and act in accordance of her heart. Micaiah does her best to do what's right by her, to pursue what seems to be the best for herself and is the "right path" for her to follow, and when she comes across anything that proves to work in contrast, the girl goes forth and adjusts it, changes and corrects the anomaly. Micaiah isn't one to lie down and accept things as they come, but move forward and change it for herself, and the visible progress brought about when she successfully does these things is a point of pure joy for her--a feeling seldom felt.
And yet, in spite of all that, there's always some occasion or event that comes along the way, showing her that all that progress got her nowhere. That in the end, Micaiah hasn't even grown as a person--she hasn't changed, matured, or in anyway brought herself forward from the same girl she was last week, same girl she was last month, same girl she was last year, same girl she was last life.
All in all, Micaiah just feels absolutely lost. She does her best, and her best never seems to be enough, but that's not something she wants to believe. Micaiah is a firm believer that success comes down to three traits: Effort, Competence, Time. Everyone has the time for it, and anyone can put effort; the only outlier that proves difficult to come across is competence, and that's something the girl would like to believe she holds in spades. And yet, despite holding that self-perception with fortitude, she's consistently met with what seems like failure in her eyes.
That said, Micaiah's self-confidence and resiliency allows her to fall back on the assumption that she just didn't put in enough effort, so all she has to do is go forward and reapply herself to the situation--success is right around the corner, and she just needs to run faster to reach it. That said, it's difficult to correct that inner feeling that no amount of effort will ever be enough. It's a disposition she doesn't want to confront, that she wants no part of, but something she feels deep in her heart nonetheless.
In this case, you could label Micaiah a bit of an optimist. With that feeling in mind, the girl will jump to another uplifting assumption that something else is out there, some other element to contribute to her success; furthermore, that element is somewhere out there, somewhere in reach, and she just needs to find it. It's this far-out hope that things actually can change, that something's out there for her--an answer to all her questions and problems--and that it's a tangible, reachable milestone. Thus, we now come back full circle to her curiosity: something's out there, and she refuses to believe that it's not, so she'll go looking for it, no matter what it takes--even beyond life and death.
All things considered, the question in the back of Micaiah's mind has always happened to be one of persevering doubt. Self-doubt, doubt that she won't be able to find all the answers to her questions, and that everything she's worked on in all reality absolutely has no impact whatsoever. Everything she wants to embody will never be in her reach, and ultimately, Micaiah will only be able to view herself as a massive failure.
This self-perception always seems like a possibility, and not just something possible but the most probable. Thus, Micaiah is scared--absolutely frightened--by the prospect of failure, and because of that, she strongly avoids anything that might lead into failure. Even if she doesn't look into the subject with depth, any signs of leading into failure is quickly dismissed and labeled as something "pointless", "fruitless", and against her goals at the surface, regardless of the underlying details and values. Running away from her problems and anything that might make her face them has become a knee-jerk reaction, and a response Micaiah has grown overly comfortable with.
The thing about running away from your problems is that you never solve them, and because of that? Those problems are here to stay--leaving them means they don't go away. Even worse, your problems can be really aesy for other people to see, and people will point them out. A lot of the time they will even force you to confront them, whether for their machinations as an enemy or because as a friend they care about you. The thing is, Micaiah so fiercely fights the idea of confronting her fears and problems in her head, so you can imagine her response to other people forcing it on her.
The anticipation that other people will see the darkness in her and do just that has become an immediate assumption of people. That said, Micaiah shows a clear aversion to people at times, though more specifically when they start to get too close to her. As she's facetious, it's not difficult to put up a facade for those still kept at a distance and keep them under the assumption that Micaiah is not nearly as vulnerable as one would believe. But when they get a little too close, it intrudes on her comfort zone as a foreign entity that can't be controlled, and in the end it shows off easily as trust issues, not just because she doesn't trust other people, but because she doesn't trust herself.
As aforementioned, Micaiah is a strong believer of accomplishing anything with effort, time, and competence, and not wanting to be proven wrong, or even worse that she's not capable, Micaiah will try to cut off anything that forces confrontation of those fears, and even worse that all the hope she's built up to just barely keep her going, will be all for naught. That being said, her dissociative tendencies also manifest as a self-dependency.
As Micaiah doesn't trust other people. she prefers to only rely on herself, figure things out like an autodidact and progress her path by her own efforts and machinations; outside help can often be seen as an insult. Since, if she really were competent, then she could take care of her problems on her own, so there's no need to ask or receive help, and furthermore, doing so would show to others that she has inescapable vulnerabilities. In a way, this also shows off as a contribution to her facetious nature, and that she has some sort of image to portray and maintain. It's of her preference that other people see her as she sees herself, and chasing this idealised self has become a sort of sub-goal in her efforts to find purpose.
Mainly because it's a point of pride to be who she says she is. Micaiah is SO concerned with pursuing this idealised self, in fact, that not being wrong and assuring herself that she's doing the right thing, births a sort of hostility when the concept is challenged. Volatile in nature, Micaiah reacts violently at times, if not just generally escalating the situation--typically for the worst--and in her stubbornness, keeps going until she has the last word. Of coures, this is primarily when she's respectively provoked, and not a normality for her.
This hostility and violence is largely in part due to her upbringing, and not as a human (though it hasn't been one to readjust this side of her), but beyond that, her command of an entire sub-dimension in a past life. Being the almighty entity in a given space, there's not really anyone to challenge your authority; conversely, there's also no-one to appropriately guide her. Since birth, Micaiah raised herself, and as a result had to discover things on her own. This made her largely independent, and on top of that birthed this tendency of self-reliance and belief in herself.
The unruly aspects comes in the fact that this also made Micaiah fairly undisciplined. Any actions she might commit were met with no successful or fruitful challenges. After all, as the host of the sub-dimension, there could be no-one to give her consequence of action. In fact, the only time she met someone who had the power and authority to do so, it turned out that they were a kindred spirit who also couldn't be assed to do anything about her attitude and unruliness.
Thus, in a way she was somewhat encouraged. Micaiah had no reason to feel any aversion to doing as she pleased, and with no boundaries or limitations, it's easy to see how her willfulness to escalate indefinitely really isn't an exaggeration. This is further exemplified when someone gets on her nerves, and while her human life has fortunately served to give her a level of self-control, innately Micaiah has an overall distaste for acquiescing to anybody, and contradicting them just for the sake of establishing her independence--or even dominance--and act as a devil's advocate, is a common response in the given circumstance. Pushing her beyond her tolerance levels quickly makes the girl very hostile, and in her head, there's nothing really wrong with that.
A little over 50 years after the first Rakshasa was born, in one of the layers far above his own, the second naturally born Rakshasa came to be. In many ways, she experienced similar circumstance, in that nothing was around her. Nobody, and nothing. Shurpa--as she soon came to name herself--found hegemony over an entirely barren layer, for which her title meant nothing. That realisation came to define her.
Shurpa scoured her realm, vying to understand every bit of it. If it was hers to own, command, and manage, then it would be wise to understand it to completion. Unfortunately, there was little to understand, because little occupied it. The rakshasa found that very much of the commanding power vested in her had nowhere to be bestowed, and thus it was worthless. This ideology transformed into the concept of her own self being of no worth.
With this in mind, Shurpa came to be born very much depressed. Her first philosophical thought was that there was nothing to her, and that with nothing around her, there was also absolutely nothing to defy this line of thinking. And yet, she came to dislike it. Not sure what to do with what she knew, Shurpa sought something to change that paradigm. If she had no worth, then she must simply create her own worth. It wouldn't be that difficult, would it? She had an entire realm to fuel her desires. It was a trivial objective.
Thus, Shurpa went on to explore her powers and look out of her realm to see the world outside of it. For a while she was filled with absolute wonder, and a desire to scourge the entirety of the universe around her, not just the bubble that was her layer. But, that's not where her end-goal lied. Being out there obviously wasn't what she needed; Shurpa was made for this layer that she commanded. To defy that purpose, despite the little attachment she felt for it, was counter-intuitive to her entire ideology.
Thus, Shurpa did the opposite and opened her layer, allowing outside influences to come into it. And it worked. As she opened her layer, souls came pouring in. To accentuate filling her realm with life, the rakshasa also took it upon herself to fill it with life. Molding the energies at her disposal, Shurpa made her own forms of life based on what she understood about life. Through this melding of creatures with some degree of free-will and individual thought, and especially their interaction with authentic vestiges of human life and otherwise, Shurpa's intent was to hopefully find something non-linear, a concept out of her control and reach to really give a sense of purpose beyond the soulless and bland "management of one of hell's layers".
Several experiences came by as her realm began to flourish, and subsocieties started forming. In a way, Shurpa's realm became a world of its own, with her part to play being really just anything she arbitrarily decided. On occasion, Shurpa partook in these societies and their formed cultures. When wars occurred, she would either stay as an observer, other times participate on whichever side she fancied more--which obviously spelled absolute doom for the opposing nation. Most enjoyable were kingdoms made to oppose her own hegemony, wherein crushing their fanatical overreaching dreams was very pleasurable.
But all these experiences still left her grasping at intangible answers to her existential questions. The rakshasa did all that she could, replicating what the outside realms held in her own to get a better, closer look; the lives she made and the lives that entered her domain, she split apart, tearing people limb from limb to find exactly what makes other people tick, because clearly some of these people had answers to justify their own continuous existence, whereas she did not. The curiosity driving her only served to expand in a desperate series of attempts to give herself purpose, each time falling short.
Eventually, Shurpa becomes sure of the natural difficulty in finding the answer to these questions. Beyond that, she finds certainty that this natural difficulty is intrinsic to her status as a rakshasa. The binding, inherent and sole purpose innate to a rakshasa to be a guardian of hell is debilitating, and as she's met no other rakshasa, it can only be assumed that this is the defining trait and shared disposition of them all. Further fortifying this assumption was some latent, mutual feeling coming from an entity far deep below her. She could feel its gaze, scanning over all the layers above him, and eventually stopping at her layer--if only for a moment--exuding a cold, yet relateable aura. Like the feelings driving this glare were identical to her own. What further supported this theory was the fact that so many of the souls she had come across, all of which derived from the outside worlds, happened to have an idea or sense for their purpose. So, if the issue isn't her, then clearly it's the place she's in.
Thus, her new milestone to reach was freedom from her status as a rakshasa. But it wasn't enough to just take leave from her layer and explore the outside worlds. All that was only temporary; she would still be intrinsically tied to, dependent on, and subservient to the needs of her personal realm. So Shurpa kicked into high-drive and pursued true and proper freedom full-time, seeking total detachment from being a guardian of hell.
» MEET HER WATCHER:
Shurpa's daily life didn't change drastically overall. Much of it was still consumed adhering to her personal whims and exploring anything she came across, feeding that insatiable curiosity always on full bloom within her. In fact, while looking at full-bloom flowers beginning to wilt and wondering what drives their death beyond natural progressions of flora biology, Shurpa started to earnestly wonder what happens in the other layers, and how things went by in other realms.
And so, the rakshasa opened her layer to peer into the other realms above and below her, and eventually her eyes met with something familiar. Shurpa formed direct eye-contact--beyond several spanning realms--with the being she once felt the gaze of many years ago. In that moment, she knew that he had been watching her, and through this feeling--almost akin to some form of camaraderie, if you could call it that--Shurpa gained some confidence in leaving her layer for the first time.
The girl descended rapidly through the realms, many of them still empty and thus easy to traverse through, especially considering the only factor that would really prevent this was that being all the way down in nearly the bottom-most layer of hell. Fortunately, he evidently had no intent in stopping her. When finally arriving to his domain, for once in a long time, maybe the first time ever, Shurpa felt some genuine, heartfelt and earnest excitement.
It wasn't a very spectacular first meeting. The conversation was very simple, in fact, with nothing really fruitful or progressive coming out of it. Towards the end, the dynamic instead seemed to be familial, or two very good friends, in both all the right and wrong ways. The being, Ravan, wasn't so receptive of Shurpa's vigour in their meeting, but knowing that he never stopped her from approaching him, she knew things would be alright.
In fact, Shurpa grew very fond of Ravan, who was a kindred spirit, especially in experiences and upbringing, and even more-so this childish, unruly aspect to him that she ridiculed, but felt all too similar to herself under the surface. This meeting even provoked her to be more sentimental, and pour deeper feelings out, knowing that it annoyed him for her to be so overly familiar, but still comforting all the same, like some weird contrasting dynamic that just felt like it fit together.
During their talks, by now being one of many through a span of many different meetings, Shurpa could see the depression in Ravan's eyes consuming him. She knew it so well because it was that exact feeling she felt from him when the girl first felt his gaze lie on her layer. Shurpa knew it all the better considering she felt the exact same way. Well, maybe not exactly the same. Knowing his disposition, especially on their continued, tortuous existence of eternity without reason or purpose beyond the unfavourable "guarding hell", Shurpa shared her thoughts on doing anything but "that".
"Hey, there's a way out of here. I know there is. And I'm going to find it--so why don't you help me out?"
Of course, Ravan was pissed--nothing out of the usual. But this kind of anger bubbling in him was a little different form the norm. It felt more solemn, like a sort of rage built from grief. Thereon, he let her know that he wouldn't take an active stance or position in helping her achieve her goal, especially since it was indicative of abandoning their duty assigned to them at birth and insubordination--not that Ravan would actually care all that much--but he would at least let her know if he found anything of pertinence and interest. In a way, it seemed like he already gave up, which offered her a deep sadness.
From there, Shurpa never mentioned this aspiration of hers, though she never stopped trying to find the "way out". The two still kept in touch, mainly from Shurpa's initiation and Ravan's reluctant reciprocation, but in their conversations one could tell a close bond forming, enough that Shurpa--who had no surname at the time--decided to take up Ravan's.
Ravan was anticipating Shurpa to arrived to his layer unannounced and uninvited around this time. At this point it was pretty standard and regular that she would arrive at consistent and predictable intervals, so he mentally prepared himself for her inevitable arrival, and also for several tables and various other furniture to be destroyed in their upcoming arguments. And for those arguments to escalate because most of the furniture in Ravan's sorrowfully dark layer were gifts from Shurpa, and she'd undoubtedly throw a fit over his lack of appreciation, the banter quickly coming to a close because neither of them ultimately cared all that much to begin with.
However, none of that happened. Shurpa hadn't showed up at his doorstep with more greeting gifts for them to most likely break and scatter. The girl knew Ravan was never the type to leave his layer, calling him a "lazy fuck" because of it, and so she was always the one to make the trip up to him; the fact that it didn't happen was bothering, like a hard-to-reach itch. Eventually, through his tainted skin he took to viewing Shurpa's layer to get a good idea on her tardiness.
Lo'n'behold, the reason for her not arriving lied in the fact that Shurpa was now dead. Her body lied on the floor, lifeless, and there was no sign of struggle, nothing to indicate that she had been slain or in any way murdered. In fact, there was doubt for there to be even a possibility that Shurpa was killed. The raskhasa out of boredom made her creations wage war on the souls inhabiting her realm, very often at the forefront, and through just her sheer capacity and skill to fight and control the circumstances of her realm so acutely and arbitrarily--this wasn't someone who could be knocked down, especially without making an absolute mess of her layer.
The only rational conclusion--the one that Ravan knew in his heart--was that she committed suicide. And from there, senseless rage filled him. Enough rage to prompt countless souls to be denied access to the soul cycle in permanence. Rage from feeling betrayed that she didn't come to him with these machinations in mind. Rage that she left him behind in this literal fucking hell hole. Rage that she didn't tell him how she was going to do it.
From that day onward, Shurpa's designated layer continuously grew more and more chaotic due to not having a manager, neither rakshasa or hell beast to maintain control of the layer. Despite this, the layer never gave birth to a new rakshasa, letting it stay absolutely distraught.
The Solomon Islands were surprisingly peaceful despite the constant wars and majors powers throwing around nuclear-level blasts all around the surrounding nations. Though they kept up with the times, especially through media, their ways of life were kept fairly simple, often opting for simpler activities and social structures that weren't primordial and respectively modern, but attached to culture and tradition. Part of this cultural dynamic was old-school fishing. It wasn't the agricultural powerhouse of the small nation of islands, but it was definitely prevalent, especially in areas on the coasts of the islands.
The beaches of Solomon were unusually calm this day, prompting many fishermen to go out and spend the day on what was anticipated as a day for fortuitous harvest. Then, out of the blue, they saw a basket floating across the unusually calm and clear waters, its movements toward land causing clear but soft ripples. Wherever the ripples touched, dead fish would rise to the surface. It was a frightening oddity, some might label a deadly omen, but for some fairly carefree fishermen, they took the occasion as it was--an easy, fruitful harvest.
Thus, instead of viewing the baby as some sort of advent of death, but some deity of good luck, one of the fishermen close to the basket picked up the child and took her with him. Honestly, it was a peculiar and surrealistic series of events happening to some eccentric people, as this circumstances would definitely not have panned out as it did otherwise. In fact, these group of fishermen were so eccentric, superstitious even, that they heralded this baby as an actual god of sea and sky. Though these perceptions were kept fairly low-key, their actions of praise and favour exemplified what they actually felt, and oddly enough they felt rewarded with following events.
» A NEW LIFE:
Micaiah--the name of the baby girl--grew up like a golden child. Her adoptive parents--who were very open about her adoption--gave her much love, her father especially passionately teaching her how to fish in a variety of manners, and often bringing her out to sea. Somewhere in his eyes there seemed to be a tinge of ulterior motive, but the love in his expressions were genuine. It was likewise for the other fishermen and their wives, almost as if this whole village took great pleasure in raising her. They were especially doting towards her whimsical wants and needs.
For example, her mood towards what sort of food she wanted. If Micaiah had a preference of fish for that day, many households decided on making it the harvest for the day, and as if her will was the will of the seas, the fish of her preference happened to be bountiful. Though other species were within range of the fishing, it was without a doubt majorly her preference that came about, only further reinforcing the idea of her divinity.
The girl herself wasn't so receptive to this treatment, however; she definitely reciprocated all the love the people gave her. While the reason for their love of her may be to some degree shallow, it was genuine, and perceived as such. But as Micaiah grew older and more aware of what her worth was to the villagers, she also became more self-conscious of herself and the position she held. Fear sprouted, in that all her worth was dependent on the fortune surrounding her.
What if she no longer brought good harvest? Would her self-worth also disappear? Was the love she received no longer to be reserved for her? Micaiah was an intelligent child, at least compared to others her age in this village, but that was it. The needs of the village didn't depend on smart children, so outside of this peculiar gift, there wasn't much she could offer.
This gradually turned into self-deprecation, though well hidden from the adults. Particularly because they were most receptive to her blatant conveyance, not paying attention to the emotions welling in her heart. It was likewise for the children around her. Similarly, they offered care for her, but mostly care about what she made obvious. Whether it was a matter of their intellect or her ability to offer a facade, it didn't matter. In the end, it made Micaiah feel isolated, and in a way, persecuted.
All in all, she just felt different
, and that sense of difference also seemed histrionic, further resulting in self-persecution, introversion, and in the end self-hatred. If Micaiah was to ever leave this village--what purpose did she hold? What value did she hold outside of this bubbled culture? Did she as a person have any worth, or just her peculiar gifts?
» CHANGE OF PACE:
Into her teenage years, Micaiah's introversion became more obvious. She didn't stay long at the petite school that held a student body fit for such a small village, so it was very obvious that she went straight home. The excursions out with her father into the sea to fish alongside him also grew less frequent, and in turn the worries of those around her increased.
Was something wrong with their golden child? Was something wrong with them, perhaps? Did they do something to anger their pseudo-goddess? The more they pressed these worries forward and confronted her, trying to understand her, the more lonely she felt. As, the more they tried to know her heart, the further she pushed them away.
This inherently cast a terrible mood in their village, and the harvests from the sea reflected that. Micaiah, taking notice to the events, felt even worse, as she felt responsible. She felt her worries were trivial, and that a person should be contributing to her community if they had her gifts. Furthering the self-hatred, she tried to be more proactive, once in a while going out with her father; but that didn't change her feelings, and the sea reflected that, as even with her going out with the fishermen, wearing a mask that showed she was doing just fine, the harvests were still poor.
» SOLOMON RUINS:
The girl was at a vulnerable stage in her life, and very often acted on this vulnerability. To the extent that, the feeling of responsibility was fairly crushing. Though she convinced herself that it was an action made with the good of the people in mind, in truth Micaiah truly was just running away from her problems. Literally.
With a meager note that conveyed her apologies, Micaiah literally ran away. She ran further inland, away from the coastal village she called home. Running into the temperate forests where civilisation was not so strongly established, she ran with a sense of liberation welling through. The further she ran, the less heavy her heart, so the girl figured this was the right course of action. She ran so far in that Micaiah even lost track of where she was. And now, in the most literal sense, she really was lost. And in turn, very fearful.
It was easily said that Micaiah led a sheltered life in an environment that catered to her. Being alone, without a safety net to fall in, she had no clue what to do. It was too late to go back, unfortunately; even if she knew the way back, pride and fear or reprisal prevented that much. The only thing left to do was keep moving forward. And as she did, Micaiah curiously came upon a building reminiscent of some old European castle, or maybe a stone temple. Though, it was broken down from time and rain.
» TEMPORAL RELIC:
She had no shelter, so Micaiah's options were fairly limited. For now, it seemed best to enter. It was pure darkness inside save for a light just ahead, presumably from moonlight that shined through the vacant roof broken down. Naturally, the only way to progress was to move towards the light. In a way, that kind of thought seemed foreboding to Micaiah, but there really was nothing else for her to do.
When she arrived at the end, the girl found that the roof overhead was still in place, and the light instead came from an object on the pedestal in the middle of the room. At this point, Micaiah was running on adrenaline to force herself to move forward, so by the time she came into the room, to some degree much of her fears and inhibitions were suppressed. What took their place was curiosity, and truth be told Micaiah had a hefty problem with curiosity; it usually drove her less than optimal actions. Likewise with this situation.
The girl approached the luminescent object; the light wasn't blinding, but enough to make its shape incredibly vague. And, upon touching it, the scenery changed.
» VICARA PLANES:
Not by much, though. She was definitely inside a temple, though small differences such as the engravings on the wall and a different sort of atmosphere was present. The pedestal in the middle was different, too. Instead of the shining object, there was a different object in its place--a sword, curiously enough. It was large, and decorative. It didn't seem very practical for a sword, though the presence it emitted was almost tangible.
Of course what else was there to do except grab it? And, anticipating something to happen, Micaiah was met with disappointment. The glowing ceased, and once she unsheathed it from the pedestal, all that remained was a simple, large and embellished sword. Micaiah felt a bit foolish, but nothign could be done about that.
The girl moved onward the same way she came into the temple, eventually leaving to see just how different the surroundings were. Before her was a massive desert that seemed to stretch on for miles, and behind her an entirely different temple. Well, not too different. More than anything, it just looked like the same temple from Solomon Islands before years and weather eroded the building. Otherwise, it looked exactly the same.
During this time, Micaiah's mental state recalibrated to some degree. The adrenaline combined with curiosity towards her new surroundings, as well as a bit of time to reconsider her circumstances brought the girl to a much calmer state of mind. Overcoming her initial fear, only wonder remained.
Naturally, going out into the desert aimlessly was a no-go; therefore, Micaiah decided to hole back up into the temple. If you thought about it sensibly, this temple seemingly in the middle of nowhere, that glowed with a decorative sword in the centre, had to contain more than just this sword. If there wasn't more to it, there'd be no point.
Once she walked back to the pedestal room, Micaiah inserted the sword a couple more times while surveying the room. Maybe some stone pushed in to reveal a secret room, maybe there was some button on the pedestal. All in all, she was just making the standard rounds of investigating a suspicious room.
After a few iterations, Micaiah found that the pedestal twisted a bit as she pulled out the sword. So, with one more go she inserted the sword and--leaving the blade in--twisted it with all her might. Lo'n'behold, the topside of the pedestal rotated with the sword, and in the back of the room the opposite side of the hall she came through, the stone wall protruded and split into two sections, revealing a dark corridor.
Micaiah walked down the corridor only to find a much larger room. Curiously enough, the room held another pedestal in the centre, and while the room was larger, there wasn't any other details standing out in contrast to the previous room. With that in mind, the only course of actions left available was to once again insert the sword into this new pedestal.
Energy pulsated throughout the ground, rippling inward before retracting into the pedestal. The pedestal absorbed the light, illuminating the room before the light was then sucked up by the sword, now glowing. After some time, when the sword reached critical luminescence, the pedestal violently broke apart, fortunately leaving Micaiah unharmed.
This time with a bit more reservation, Micaiah approached the sword and grasped it once more. The sword's glow waned until it was once more a simple sword, though this time a feeling of presence emanated from it. To pair with the presence was an audible voice--an old, male voice.
The voice conveyed to her some details about himself--though she reluctantly listened despite never having asked. It spoke of a bygone era, one so long ago that a soul merely 400 years old like Micaiah wouldn't remember him. That he was apparently the king of these lands, once upon a time.
Of course, that little detail caught her attention. At this time, Micaiah was about 14. She quickly stopped the voice, inquiring what he meant by her being a 400 year old soul. The voice replied in turn, saying that it may be quicker to simply show her than tell her.
Micaiah reeled back, as images flooded her mind. She was drawn into some trance-like state, looking through memories of her past life as Shurpa, enduring the reaches of hell to reach some ultimate goal. Not everything was grasped, but Micaiah saw more than enough to fully understand her circumstances.
The girl fell unconscious, and after some time awoke with a bit of a headache, but a much more reserved and calm expression. As the memories of her past came back to her to some degree, hints of her old persona came through, though as she saw it Micaiah was still Micaiah: regardless of past lives influencing her presently.
One thing she did notice was something intrinsically attached to her memories. Micaiah felt like her body was massively invigorated, like some energy was pulsating through her, violently even. As she felt more physically excited, a bit hotblooded even, the energy grew, as if replicating her mental state.
With some explanation from the old voice, they discerned that something may have been intrinsically attached to her memories, though to some degree it was a little vague. But, with Micaiah explaining the sensations and portions of her memories, and the old voice's seemingly infinite wisdom, at some level Micaiah had a better grasp of what this power was and what it represented.
» DEAD HELP:
All things said, the return of these memories didn't offer her much solace. In fact, Micaiah now felt even more lost. After 400 years, she still had no purpose, lacking whatever there was to do. Whatever ended her life in the end wasn't enough either, as a new life offered no comfort of closure. At this point, now what was she to do?
The voice replied, saying, "Anything." That she could do whatever she wanted. Especially in contrast from her previous life, she really did find the truest freedom available to her. So, there was an opportunity to pursue anything; and if she needed help, the voice was here for her. Albeit in the sword, but there nonetheless.
The voice said vestiges of its conscience was sealed into the sword posthumous, though it had no intention to be released. In fact, being released would just remove this conscience from reality entirely, as its true form had already died off long ago, and he had no intentions of returning to the living. Micaiah, having forgot this entire time, introduced herself, and in turn learned that this voice's name used to be "Maujūda".
After exchanging pleasantries, Micaiah was instilled with a bit more confidence. With Maujuda's words, she felt that there really was more to her. What she boiled down to wasn't just some luck goddess for a mere fisherman village. Of course, usually Micaiah would be self-reproving in the past from arrogant thoughts like this, though some slipped by without her noticing, especially with a much broader and larger sense of reality given her memories as a rakshasa.
This confidence in play, Micaiah set out into the Vicara plains, this feeling of vitality flowing through her telling her that traversing the desert wouldn't be a difficult task. There was less fear in her, an aspiring mindset in play, that pushed her forward to really follow Majuda's words: to do as she pleased. If she had no purpose for the time being, look for it. In the meantime, she could hone herself, as a person, as someone wielding some degree of power--anything, frankly. Since she had that freedom, try everything! There was only time, effort, and her personal competence in effect, and so long as she had three, there was no need to stop at being a "jack of all trades, master of none". If possible, just become the master of all trades.
» THE NORTH GOD:
From hereon, Micaiah roamed the realm a bit, accumulating knowledge, self-mastery, weapon mastery, and experience in all manners. Here and there, she learned where she was and to some extent a broader understanding of herself and her powers. To some effect, she put them to use as well, engaging in fights, maybe saving a town or a building from less than accommodating demons.
Roaming for over a year, doing as she pleased like a normal demon, made it so that no-one really suspected her of being a human. Though, even if she was, there'd be no issues as the Demon World was a large place. Despite their antagonistic culture, demons were pretty accepting of foreigners, as met a wide variety of people in her travels--even shinigami and iramasha at times, though they were exceptionally rare.
Over time, Micaiah inevitably made a name for herself. Though nothing to the extent of being known all over the place, at least in the Vicara Plane information spread of an unruly child, eccentric and peculiar in personality, but usually a good girl--often violent when sized up. With mixed feelings on her public appearance, Micaiah was sometimes asked more personal questions. "Where are you from? Where did you learn to fight? Do you work for the palace?"
To some degree, it was indicative of Micaiah's abilities and power, though she treated it particularly cautiously. While the girl didn't gain some strides in progressing herself, it still wasn't to the same level of power she had in the past, or even close to Ravan. But, being attached to the palace was still, in most forms, a complement of her strength.
Generally, the girl responded vaguely, though over time she more or less developed a bit of a backstory for herself to make answering these types of things much easier. For example, that she came from the northern lands, and that its common to find people utilising larger weapons up there. That the style is called "North God Sword Style" or something. While initially it was used as a mere justification of her present self to the more inquiring folk, it stuck on, and soon enough people began to call her "The North God".
After some time and traveling, for nearly a year in the demon lands, for the most part Micaiah felt that she learned all she could as far as the Demon Realm was concerned. Though Maujuda thought otherwise, the North God felt it was at least time to move on. At some point, a bit of nostalgia set in for her home, at least in this life. That in mind, Micaiah set out and made her journey home.
» BACK FOR MORE:
Once returning, she felt a similar sensation, one she felt a year ago when she first saw her past life. An energy started to pulsate through her, and according to Maujuda, it would be her powers as a human becoming accessible. Once she landed in this realm, the exposure to the energy surrounding revitalised the dormant energy within.
Learning a bit more about herself and her abilities, Micaiah figured that traversing the realms was the next step in self-progression. And, maybe there she could find something that lead her to a truer purpose, a higher sense of self-discovery and longing. Something, anything--it was out there, hopefully.
END POST | WANDERER OF WORLDS