🐦‍⬛ Morrìgan O'ríen

[ returning soon! ]
Happy New Year!

Nemuru napping with colorful worm on a strings.

Worm nap time
#art #oc #ocsky

//still super interested in continuing this!

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Probably on hiatus until after Christmas! Love u all this is just the most important family time of the year for me and also i need to find a new apartment so I'm bonus stressed

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Midas is COOKING

// I wanna draw morrs in a lil sundress and straw hat!!

Morrs is entirely genderfluid (being a changeling and all) and uses any pronouns (except it/its. Totally valid pronouns, she is just not comfortable with them!)
I default to he/him because his default appearance is masculine and I myself am most comfortable with he/they.

Please enlighten me as well!

// YOU ARE SO FINE BROSKI I wasn't obvious enough about it!

Morrìgan as a creation has only existed for 6 years. While he has scattered memories of his adult predecessor Lucien, I prefer to treat him as minor-coded. Think Poor Things except instead of being weird about him I'm normal and keep him outta nsfw situations lol

//muse is minor coded!!
Sorry this isn't always obvious haha but since he's a creation he's only existed around 6 years. Even tho he's got mixed memories of his predecessor I just play it safe
I should put that somewhere prominent

What are you trying to keep from him? Wrong answers only.

Morrìgan and the party ranger Elle have clashing personalities and it's quite memeable

a black cat is laying on a pink couch ALT: a black cat is laying on a pink couch

Mornin

"Sorry about your hand being on fire, then. Because that isn't happening."
He puts both of his hands behind his back what is he five?

Her name is Birdie Song and her weapon is a magical umbrella. She's cheerful, very Mary Poppins, and absolutely devoted to Bill lmao

"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice quiet and lilting. "Do you have a message for me?"

His father kept postponing the ritual, seeking other ways to summon the god without his son's sacrifice. There was no guarantee that Morrìgan would exist in the world reborn if he were to die before Crom consumed the current plane.
Despite the trauma he put his son through, he held a twisted love. +

He knew it was his duty to bring back its strength. That he would be its unwilling vessel, he did not.

But lying beneath that all was a warm light. A voracious will to live, and the capacity to change his fate. Karmic destiny built up over his many iterations, if you will.
+

He had no knowledge that he had been created just to die by his father's hand to bring the death and rebirth of the plane. This world was dying. Rot took root in the flora and fauna. The Weeping Pox took lives relentlessly. The sun was bleak for the short time it was out. +

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My backup character for if Morrìgan dies in the campaign is literally who I have dubbed "bill cipher warlock"
Warlock in part of a magical pyramid scheme run by, essentially, bill cipher (the "Angel Providence")

Quickly casts create water directly on Bill's hand!
"No, I don't think so. I know how a demon pact looks like."

"ɪ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴄ̷ᴏ̷ʀ̷ᴘ̷ꜱ̷ᴇ̷ꜱ̷! ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟ ꜱᴏᴏɴ."

| #GravityFallsRP
| #RPSKY
| #MVRP

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Mood

"Oh! Thank you. This one's a prosthetic! My face feels funny if I don't put something there. I can change it too! This one was a gift."

That presence lingered within him, stirred by the arrival of Lady Death. It watched through his blind eye.

"W-what do you mean? Nothing's happened to me."

What a loaded lie that was.

That another soul clung to his, not by its own choice but by dark magic?

The fate of a sacrificial death wrapped around his neck like a noose?

Or yet still, the corrupted presence of a god so primordial that it had many purposes.
Harvest.
Sacrifice.
Death and Rebirth.
+

He was still frightened, but seemed to note the lack of hostility.
His heart was still pounding, regardless.

What was it that she could see? That the boy's soul was as patchwork as his body? Overwhelmingly young, but with shards of his previous lives weighing him down. +

"I'd really like that!" he replied after thinking the offer over. He smiled at her; something it looked like perhaps he didn't do often.

"I make poultices and salves for them, and a few potions. I've never had a patient complaint!"

His patients were all incapable of speech!

He should have never threatened the other when he was clearly no match, but big words made him feel tough.

"But then what if I grow attached to your company and you can never get rid of me?" he replied through gritted teeth.
Really they weren't in any danger of that happening.