"Ce n'est pas quelque chose que tu ne fais que t'écraser."
Interactions: Avec ses ordinateurs
Lieu: Observatoire, Phoenix, Arizona; 20h08

Le clair de lune a établi la gamme de roches sépia et à peine là arbustif dans une brume légère, bien au-dessus du smog de la vie de la ville de Phoenix. Au-delà de la montagne et de la pollution des lumières qui ébranlent le ciel dans une encre noire visqueuse, les seules lumières qui attrapent l'horizon sur des kilomètres sont venues de la Honda Civic qui s'est abattue sur un chemin de terre et dans un petit garage de stationnement. Honnêtement, le garage lui-même ressemblait plus à une cabane qu'à quelque chose de payé par une université aisée. Nainsant le garage, l'Observatoire se tenait au sommet d'une colline, pointant ses panneaux et révélant le télescope vers l'arc d'Orion dans le ciel d'hiver. Attaché à l'observatoire se trouvait un petit bâtiment où diverses machines puissantes étaient logées pour la recherche. Et de l'ouest et du côté, s'assit une quantité beaucoup trop grande pour être des antennes ordinaires installées sur un point vocal dans le ciel nord.
L'observatoire lui-même est resté séparé de la maison des machines, des ordinateurs et des disques durs, qui a couru pour le projet satellite appelé Haus. L'ensemble des astronomes de l'observatoire a participé à la recherche de Haus, ce qui signifie que l'Université elle-même l'a financée. La recherche visait à examiner l'espace à une définition plus élevée et beaucoup, beaucoup plus loin que Hubble ne pourrait jamais atteindre. Le télescope Haus pourrait rendre une image en temps réel pour cette section dans l'espace, ce qui signifie que la lumière n'aurait pas à parcourir des millions de miles. Le projet semblait beaucoup avancé pour son temps, qui pourrait être acquitté à l'homme qui a fait le télescope à partir de zéro: Valentine Haus, ou comme Emmanuel grandit pour le connaître, Vulcain.
Un homme déshonoré, cherchant à être sur le temps australien plutôt que le sien, bourdonnait hors de la Civic avec son manteau de costume ridé sur ses épaules et un étui dans une poignée à peine là dans ses mains. Emmanuel Welch a trouvé ses vacances pour avoir fini brusquement, bien que le regard sur son visage semblait en conflit avec le retour de la surveillance du ciel nocturne couplé avec effectivement travailler. Il a trouvé un beau dans entre schowl tandis qu'Emmanuel jogging jusqu'à l'une des nombreuses entrées afin de glisser sa clé fob en dedans et tomber à l'intérieur de lui-même.
"Un peu tard là-bas, bucko", une voix tranquille appartenant à une petite blonde arrondit le coin au moment où Emmanuel l'a fait. Snark s'est serrée aux traits de la blonde, en gardant un schowl presque là tordant ses lèvres et ses joues. Les mots caustiques semblaient aller à elle, atteignant un équilibre irritant entre nasal et sarcastique.
Avec une fronce enseignée, il s'assit aux possessions qu'il apporta de son petit cadre dans l'espace minuscule qu'ils acquéraient. "Tout ce qu'il y a de grand de Haus, Danielle?" Emmanuel s'est déplacé devant elle vers leur espace exigu de cafés, tasses, et un plat à moitié mangé de cheesecake.
"Tu réalises que tout ce qu'on trouve avec cette chose est considéré comme révolutionnaire, n'est-ce pas?" Danielle répondit avec un éblouissement d'acier. Emmanuel a dévié à la fois la question et son examen avec une tasse de café bien placée. "Mais, je crois que j'ai trouvé quelque chose. Vous pourriez vous rendre à l'ordinateur pour vérifier les images récentes acquises par Haus," Danielle, après une longue pause, a commencé, mettant en place tout ce qu'elle avait travaillé vers le bas pour regarder de plus près Emmanuel, "Steve pense que c'est un problème, que quelque chose bloque la vue du télescope, mais je ne sais pas."
"Eh bien, baise Steve, alors. Dites-moi ce que vous pensez », a dit Emmanuel, se tournant vers elle avec une tasse de sucre dans ses mains – il aimait son café lourd sur le côté doux. Il a regardé Danny squirm dans son siège alors que ses yeux se déplaçaient vers les papiers dans ses mains. Elle les a serrés avec son sourcil pincée, avant de purifier ses lèvres et de les empiler soigneusement à sa portée. Un soupir laissa les lèvres avant qu'elle ne redescende les papiers et se tourna pleinement vers Emmanuel, regardant avec prudence sa tasse de hazmat.
"Je pense que tu dois jeter un oeil à ça toi-même."



Alias: Odyn Redheart
Interactions: Personne en particulier
Lieu : High up, Sydney, Australie; 14 h 08

Crimson rouge enduit les murs de ce penthouse de Sydney, avec des garnitures d'or qui ont exigé l'attention. Un lustre accroché au milieu d'un salon semi-circulaire, au-dessus d'une table basse ouvrée dans une annexe trempée entre la cuisine et une grande vue panoramique sur la plage de sable et l'océan sans fin. Un verre de vin vide s'est taché rouge à côté d'un vase d'anémones jaunes et oranges, le propriétaire étant parti pour une douche rapide avant sa réunion – un malheureux contrat de départ pour la division de deux compagnies qui n'ont pas vu à l'oeil en premier lieu. Il fallait une touche d'alcool.
Dans l'autre coin de la pièce elle-même serrait un rideau de vapeur de la porte de la chambre. De lui émerge une silhouette, fixée par le cadre de porte ouverte avec une serviette serrée autour de sa taille et un téléphone à son oreille.
« Excuses, mon robinet de douche a été en train d'agir, » la figure de griffe d'Odyn a grondé dans le haut-parleur alors qu'il marchait à travers son penthouse sans égard pour son manque de vêtements, « il se fait enfermer et gaspille toute mon eau chaude. J'ai de la vapeur dans ma chambre et je roule dans la chambre principale.
"De toute façon, je serai là," Odyn a pris le moment de jeter un coup d'œil à l'horloge stationnée près de son frigo. Il tient toujours le stock à 14 h 08 avec une fissure aiguë inhabituellement droite vers le bas du milieu. Son front sillonnait, mais il ne faisait aucun effort pour vraiment s'en soucier; il n'avait pas le temps de réfléchir sur les machines défectueuses. "J'y arriverai dans une heure, attends-moi, disons trois."
Au tournant, les sourcils d'Odyn sillonnaient à l'ombre jetée à ses pieds qui grandissait avec une intensité rapide. Ses yeux ont pris une figure à l'extérieur, et il a incliné sa tête avec une expression brouillée. En l'attaquant à rien, Odyn retourna vers sa chambre à coucher pour être arrêté à mi-chemin en saisissant la noirceur. Un cri lui a pris la gorge, le téléphone s'écrasant alors que la noirceur l'a bordé et a rapidement disparu, laissant l'ancien dieu une simple tache – une tache sur ses sols en marbre.



"Un trou du cul."
Interactions: Danielle, Ordinateurs
Lieu: Observatoire, Phoenix, Arizona; 20 h 11

Comment peut-on penser que cette chose ressemble à une erreur technique? Encore moins quelque chose qui bloque le télescope. Non, trop évident pour être autre chose que l'espace que Haus a montré.
Emmanuel, front creusé et dentelé au sommet de son pont, regarda en allers et retours entre deux copies HD de différentes parties du ciel. Il se tourna vers Danielle, qui s'était mise à mordre la lèvre et à le regarder du bord de ses lunettes. "Steve pense que c'est un problème?" "Où a-t-il obtenu son diplôme?"
"DePaul, pourquoi?"
-- Eh bien, DePaul peut sucer ma putain de bite, cria Emmanuel, giflant les photos sur la table devant lui. "Quand ont-ils été pris?" Il a commencé une marche rapide à travers l'environnement chaud, disparaissant derrière une grande pile de disques durs de l'état de l'ordinateur de pointe. Danielle suivit aussi vite qu'elle le pouvait, maudit ses talons hauts et sa coordination terrible.
"Il y a un peu plus d'un mois. J'allais refaire quelques tests ce matin, mais Steve a insisté pour que je ne le fasse pas," Danielle huffed, s'arrêtant juste derrière le corps écervelé d'Emmanuel, "Je ne peux pas croire qu'ils aient engagé un trou du cul aussi flagrant et sexiste. Sommes-nous autorisés à le faire virer pour cela?"
« J'aimerais, oui, mais je ne le suis pas », a dit Emmanuel, les mains tapant le code rapidement à travers le clavier avant finalement, sur le projecteur de son côté, une image est apparue. C'était noir comme la nuit, mais épouvantable en qualité, comme s'il regardait dans un abîme qui osait regarder en arrière. Danielle a froncé à ses côtés, ses yeux n'ont jamais quitté l'image affichée alors qu'Emmanuel continuait à se mêler du code. "Voici une autre," a-t-il dit au moment où la deuxième image éclairait l'écran, affichant une galaxie partielle.
"Attendez, c'est... c'est la galaxie d'Andromède", a déclaré Danielle et Emmanuel hoche la tête, avant de taper un autre ensemble de codes. L'image s'élargit pour révéler plus de la galaxie. "C'est quoi ce bordel? Ce n'est pas naturel, pas pour cette galaxie."
"Des millions d'années-lumière d'espace, juste disparu."



"Je me demande s'il est encore en vie, non, c'est plutôt mort."
Interactions: corps mort d'Odin
Lieu: High up, Sydney, Australie; 15 h 11

Quelques instants plus tard...
"Monsieur. "Rédempteur?" un accent australien croquant a sonné dans le couloir menant à l'ascenseur personnel, s'arrêtant à côté du foyer. Rien ne semblait inhabituel, en dehors d'une image égarée sur le mur qui devait être corrigée. L'homme, vêtu d'un uniforme de service, a laissé son chariot de fournitures de nettoyage à l'entrée du salon et a procédé à l'examen de ce qui avait besoin de nettoyage. Ses yeux s'arrêtèrent au moment où ils débarquèrent sur la figure enracinée et carbonisée d'Odyn Redheart au milieu de son foyer, son téléphone cellulaire de couleur orange et garish se fendait sur le marbre sous lui. « Jésus Christ », il courut vers la figure avant de prendre gentiment le téléphone et, balayant pour le contact d'urgence et entrant dans le triple zéro. Il s'enfuit de ce qu'il pouvait et retourna au foyer pour l'attendre, et en partie parce que la statue qui était M. Redheart avait encore les yeux intacts.
Une fois que l'homme est parti, voix barrée par la porte entre lui et le salon, le bâton de pas a fait écho à travers le salon spacieux. Les pieds appartenaient à des pantalons bruns assez longs, et un torse blanc boutonné. Et le visage, avec ses lèvres porte-monnaie et ses yeux curieux, appartenait à une divinité très déconcertée. James a fait un cercle autour de la prétendue preuve que l'Oracle de Delphi l'avait dirigé vers. Ses mots sonnaient très fort dans ses oreilles.
... corps comme des cendres fondues, creuses avec les yeux frénétiquement regardant sur quand les étoiles se sont effondrées et le ciel est tombé. Il sent le soufre et le cyanure; il se brise de radiations. On dirait qu'une étoile est morte en lui.
Et maintenant que James l'a pensé, avoir un Odin Statue qui fuit des radiations partout semblait très préjudiciable aux différentes vies humaines dans les environs. Mais il n'a pas pu s'empêcher de regarder parce que James l'a senti, comme une chaîne s'est cassée autour de lui. Comme si quelqu'un appelait sur la fréquence de l'univers et le laissait entendre quelques bourdonnements, quelques mots de plus, quelques murmures de planètes lointaines. Au moment où cela s'est produit, James a senti un froid s'écouler la colonne vertébrale et dans cette terreur instantanée a coulé dans son estomac. Cela semblait réel, maintenant, d'y penser et peut-être que c'était parce que c'était réel; la terreur s'est réintroduite, mangeant son intérieur avec une faim.
Ou peut-être que c'était le rayonnement gamma.
Quoi qu'il en soit, James a enveloppé ses bras autour de la forme morte d'Odin et l'a privé de la scène du crime pour le ramener par la porte d'où il venait. À son arrivée, il a été accueilli avec le visage de Tyr et Athéna derrière lui, tous deux regardant grièvement le corps chancelant sur son épaule.
"On dirait que nous aurons besoin d'une rencontre," Tyr s'est bourdonné, les coins de sa bouche s'éloignant plus loin, "Je vais t'en charger. Ouvre les portes, Janus."
-- Oui, oui, répondit James, en regardant Athéna maintenant qui l'a mouvementé vers le couloir qui mène aux quartiers analytiques du nouvel Asgard — un bâtiment à mi-journée à New York, protégé par la magie que les dieux restants avaient laissée et seulement accessible par la permission discrète des dieux eux-mêmes.



Alias: Tyler Ericson
Interactions : Salle du Sommet
Lieu: Asgard

La grande salle d'Asgard a tenu de nombreux arches et de nombreuses salles avec de nombreuses portes et maintenant, en cette époque de désespoir, ils se sont tous ouverts. Et à travers chacun a versé une divinité, confuse et perplexe comme la dernière fois qu'ils ont été convoqués ici, ils avaient perdu leurs pouvoirs. Maintenant, ils les retrouvaient de retour et chacun grandissait dans l'énigme, avec des questions qu'ils posaient à leurs semblables alors qu'ils filtraient dans l'éclaboussure de granit de la grande salle de planchers gris, bleu et or, il est grand, en supposant des piliers soutenant le dôme des constellations qui s'accrochaient au-dessus de leur tête. Les grands arcs mènent à une série de sièges façonnés dans un cercle autour d'un grand pavillon, étranglés comme une salle de conférence, où un certain nombre de Dieux de la Sagesse et de la Loi se tenaient assis, Janus parmi eux avec ses yeux errant les différents visages qu'il pensait oublier bientôt. Tyr se tenait à l'avant, attendant que chaque dieu prenne place et une fois qu'il a bougé, fort et clair dans l'écho des murs puissants d'Asgard, sa seule main (plutôt que le nu) gesticulant à une figure vêtue à côté de lui.
"C'est avec un grand malheur que je dis ces mots," a déclaré Tyr, épais roulant, les collines irlandaises chargées dans sa voix, sa tête pivotant à la poêle à travers la congrégation des divinités, les yeux tombant sur les points vides des dieux et déesses décédés de la guerre depuis longtemps passé, "mais nous avons perdu un grand ami et ancien chef. Odin, roi d'Asgard et tout le Norse, a connu un terrible sort."
Il s'appuya sur Janus, qui prit l'œil : « Si tu le veux bien, mon ami? »
Un cri et quelques bouffées collectives (et un rire, qui avait James ronflant) sonnèrent au milieu de la foule pendant que Jacques révélait le corps de pierre d'Odin. « Après de nombreuses années de paix, je suis choquée de dire cela, » a-t-il mis la tête baissée alors qu'il parlait, « mais nous soupçonnons ici qu'une autre divinité l'a fait. Comme vous le savez, nous avons lié nos pouvoirs à l'intérieur d'un sceau de nos propres êtres. Il était lié à nos vies, infini comme il était, mais malheureusement n'est pas," il a fait un geste à l'Odin décédé, "et avec sa vie, les phoques ont commencé à briser et perdre une chaîne a rattrapé les autres. Vous l'avez vu, nous l'avons vu, malheureusement, nous n'avons pas d'autre preuve que de soupçonner qui aurait pu accomplir un tel exploit. Cependant, nous n'annoncerons aucun nom. Je vous amène ici pour vous informer de notre enquête imminente et pour pleurer notre perte. »
Athena s'est intensifiée pour présenter sa déclaration, une fois que la pause de Tyr a été assez longue, « Nous vous demandons de rester ici pour le moment alors que le sommet fait ses quelques déclarations. Je suppose qu'en tant que dieux, aucun d'entre vous n'a d'autre endroit à être?
"Bien."
God of transitions, beginnings, passages, doors, and endings
Basic Profile
|Name|
Janus
|Alias(es)|
James Alfero; Associated with the god Partunus
|Gender|
Male
|Sexuality|
Demisexual Homoromantic
|Pantheon/Faith|
Roman
|Occupation|
Bouncer at a Strip Club during the night; Librarian during the day


Appearance
|Godly Appearance|
A god of two faces, one which looks to the past with longing in his eyes, and one that looks to the future in hope and aspiration, Janus embodies the beginning and the end. Body cast in gold, Janus stands at an alarming seven feet, adorned in the robes of a scholar but with fine steel plate layered over. In his hands he holds both heads, which usually find a place hovering, yet connected to his neck. The left holds youth and glory, face a golden shine with eyes blue and glowing brilliance; this face looks toward the future of mankind. The other, held in the right, is one of wizened years, as it looks toward days passed. A lengthy beard of dull, white gold frames the wrinkled edges of his face, with a lighter, dimmer haze of blue radiating from his eyes.
Janus himself hovers off the ground, feet held within a middle ground between the sky and the earth. He is usually found presiding over doorways, especially those to his long dead temples. Not only that, but Janus is ever present for any change and transition, a god of passages, a god of the threshold.
|Earthly Appearance|
Tall, though not as strikingly tall as his 7'0" godly visage, James stands at a nice 6'4"—a giant reigning over the average human. That being far from the truth, however, Janus carries himself with a humbleness and an ever attentive gaze. Though, sharp is his gaze, Janus chose a softer feature for his face, letting the edges of his jaw round rather than stick and the blunt of his nose glides gentle toward average lips, red and soft to the touch. Of all things, James loves smiling, lips found stretching over a row of brilliant, white teeth.
Often considered the most striking feature of his ensemble are James' ears; they're large and fold outward from his head. As well, they tend to move, or wiggle, to the movement of his eyebrows. That meaning, one can tell when James gets particularly excited, as his eyebrows tend to animate when he talks and his ears move along with them. Though, most of his emotions lay in the shine and glint of his green eyes. Though technically green, James' eyes vary in a mixture of color: green holds dominance in it's burst of warmth, though the majority of his iris holds a starburst of golden brown flecks, which dot the green in random pattern.
Regardless of his prominent features, James tends to vary on the average. Even boasting a tall frame with wide set shoulders and physique to fill out the majority of his clothes (he learned quick that, to be an intimidating bouncer, one has to bulk up accordingly), James blends in with the vast majority of mortal crowds. Maybe it's a god thing nowadays, but James doesn't much like bringing attention to himself. He feels deeply that his kind has brought too much trouble to the world of men and women.


Who Am I?
|Personality|
During Rome's reign, Janus presented himself as an amoral figure in the Pantheon. Whereas Bellona thirsted for rage and war, and Venus love and promiscuity, Janus held himself balanced in the middle. He neither wanted nor gained from interference from mortals. Maybe impartiality is a staple to clairvoyant beings, but then again, maybe it had to do with the fact that Janus seemed so ubiquitous to the daily lives of his worshippers. Romans held a vast number of rituals dedicated to just Janus himself, at the start of a year, at the end of it. Even mornings fell in Janus' domain. Thus, it left Janus with little time for emotions, though he grew to care for the small rituals of each Roman citizen.
Present day Janus finds himself overwhelmed with feeling. Overwhelmed with guilt and disgust for his people, in particular and growing ever closer to the humans that used to doddle at his feet. Of course, having been partial for most the near entirety of his godhood, Janus doesn't particular know how to handle emotions. And neither does he know much of society itself. A god that looked toward the future and the past stuck in the present does not make a happy god.
Janus himself contains a vast intellect; his mind is a database of knowledge and facts. However, that does not make up for social knowledge. Most of Janus intelligence remains hypothetical. When faced with the challenge of practicality, Janus seems at a loss with what to do. Interacting with people, interacting with other cultures outside of Rome, all of it left Janus dizzy and with no desire to face the problem head on. For a perceptive god, Janus doesn't pride himself on being able to understand why certain things are happening, just that they are.
This accidental isolation leaves Janus in modern times with a heart weighed heavy by loneliness and a mind still boggled at the mystery of human nature. Maybe he should stay a scholar and philosopher, rather than an actual presence.
|Family|
"Family? I'm... not sure I have that."
|Strengths|
Perceptive
Intelligent
Trusting
Decisive
Liberal 
|Weaknesses|
Inattentive/Easily Distracted
Romantic/Idealistic
Aloof
Pedantic
Intensely Hypothetical
|Likes|
Cats
Traveling
Baby Animals
Books/Movies
Doors
Singing and Dancing
Harry Potter
|Dislikes
Hypocrites (Ironically, being literally two-faced)
Prematurely Stopping
Middles
Hates the Aisle Seat on Planes
Being Cutoff While Talking
People Who Slam Doors
People Who Don't Close Doors All The Way
|History|
Unlike most gods, Janus lived in his own temporal bubble. Things went and passed without much interference from himself. Doors opened and closed, both figuratively and literally. Not many myths dealt with Janus himself, though the ones that currently do aren't necessarily accurate—he loathes his association with Cardea who he never once had much relations with. Though, his time spent with Saturn remained one he cherishes today, as he does with Camese. Janus himself didn't have much in the way of friendship, having mainly those two particular gods, as well as a close friendship with Juno, or Hera.
For years, nothing of note had occurred to the god, or that the god incurred upon others. Janus, wise as he may have been, staid much in the shadows and relished in the quiet of peace, when the doors to his temple closed. In terms of other gods, Janus hadn't much to do with them and felt content in his solitude. Only the recent agreement to denounce powers affected Janus greatly. However, it occurred at such a time that he likely would have vanished from memory to the begin with. Thus, Janus gave his powers willingly and went on to live the life of a wandering scholar, and often times a hermit.
Being more of an observing entity, Janus merely watched the ebb and flow of human life. It more so involved his unwavering ineptitude with societal interactions than wanting to observe in the first place. Thus, Janus stuck to the many libraries that dotted Europe and the many churches and cathedrals that hung their shadows in city squares. During this time, Janus took to books and knowledge, learning humanity, but never once truly living it.
However, one thing he did garner from his travels was the closeness he felt to humanity itself. Even standing from afar, Janus took to mortals more so than his own kind and grew ever guilty of the blood his people shed over petty desires and fruitless schemes. That wasn't to say he hated other deities, he just felt slightly biased in his opinion. That didn't quite stop his inquisitive nature and the loneliness he felt as the centuries passed by. Thus, Janus retained one power, extremely week in its ungodly state, like many of his own brethren, which Janus used to remedy his loneliness. Of course, being able to use doors as vocal points for teleportation never really gave him the desired outcome. None of his kind ever really paid attention to him, or found him annoying and rather too talkative, thus, most of his days were spent alone and with his nose buried in a book.
|Opinion on Mortals|
"It's nice to watch them. But, maybe I treat them too much like birds, instead of people."
Most of Janus interactions with humans could be explained in the span of an hour. This is taking into account centuries worth of interaction, which can only fill an hour of time. Most of these interactions were merely hellos, and accidental bumps, rather than in depth conversations, so they are quite numerous in quantity, but lack in quality. Whereas other, more social gods like Aphrodite, could spend years telling her tales of mortal men and women and inbetweens. But, Janus loves humanity, but he much prefers to watch, rather than participate.
|Theme Song|
No Place I'd Rather Be – Clean Bandits
”With every step we take, Kyoto to The Bay
Strolling so casually
We're different and the same, get you another name
Switch up the batteries”
|Favorite Myth|
Eros and Psyche


Mortal vs. Immortal
|Mortal Skills/Abilities|
Well, Janus has a keen sense of perception and can tell various cues apart from each other. However, he can't exactly tell you why something happens, especially if it happens to be something social. That being said, Janus retained his vast depository of useless knowledge. Okay, it's not useless, but there's a lot of stuff in his noggin detailing the intricate chemical compound of yeast and both why and how it grows. Another ability he'd gained is how to tell what properties a door has, what kind of metal or wood it is, how old it is, how sturdy it his. He could talk for days about doors, if only anyone would ask.
Regardless, Janus is well read, well educated, and perceptive of various things.
|Immortal Skills/Abilities|
Janus has always been able to travel through doors, just like Poseidon will always be able to talk to fish, though he doesn't really know why anyone would. They're dull creatures, aside from sharks, jellyfish, and shrimp. And it's not a normal traversal through doorways because anyone can do that. Janus, however, can pretty much pop up anywhere as long as there's a door that'll lead him there.
As his powers grow, Janus will gain his supernatural perception, which will grow into full blown clairvoyance, as well as foresight and hindsight. Thus, leaving him able to foresee various events in the future and pinpoint which path an individual is currently traveling on. Most of all, through these powers, Janus can tell the exact point a person's life will change, as well as end, sharing his ability with Hades. Of course, he doesn't know the exact date and time, just what the event will be. Of course, most of the time Janus doesn't like to spoil things for himself and would rather live the transition himself.
Lastly, Janus' combat capabilities lie in his utter control over portals which he can place and use anywhere between two points. The concept itself is pretty simple: Janus creates a portal beneath someone, they fall into, and are transported somewhere else... depending on if they're mortal or not, it's like out in space. Likewise, Janus can literally rip passages and archways into any concrete surface without harming the surface itself. So he makes doorways by forcing a surface open. This ability over portals will likely be the last of all of them to develop.
|Favorite Myth|
Eros and Psyche




"I like to pretend I have friends. But, I think I've come to realize that never really works out."
Umiko Ryudo || Ryūjin
"She's a lovely lady. I drop by sometimes for tea and sushi."

Hadrian Pryde || Hades
"I think I annoy him, but he's never asked me to leave, so... I think I'd like to stay."
In the past century or so, Janus hasn't known Hades to be anything but prickly, rude, and generally isolated. Most of his interactions beyond the last 10 or so years have been brief, almost nonexistent. Without the necessary tools to peel back that thorn covered layer, Janus has kept his distance as often as he could. How he came to stop by nearly every day, if only for a second, Janus couldn't quite say. Or, actually, he'd rather not say. Janus contains a good memory of change, of when it happens, and why it happens. Thus, it's no different when Janus noticed the change in Hades' demeanor and it all centered in the little boy he'd acquired. And, thus, Janus, in his usual loneliness, got a glimpse of what Hades looked like underneath all the gruff nonchalance and rude exterior.
To say he liked what he saw would be a vast understatement. It's a lot like how he'd come to be best friends with the Goddess of Love and Promiscuity and how she hasn't tried to sleep with him (again).
Thus, despite Hadrian's loud protests, James stays and if he catches a glimpse of a smile from the gloomy lord of the underworld, he won't say. Plus, his kids are the loveliest and Astra has come to call him Uncle James on many, if not all, occasions. He's caught Mikhael do the same, though, like his father, he immediately covers it with a furrow of his brow and a dirty scowl.
James owes a lot to the Prydes for (begrudgingly) welcoming him into their home. For the company he knows Hadrian wants and needs. For allowing him to help with the family's needs. He has a lot of time on his hands and doesn't know what to do with it, so spending time with a family that have slowly come to accept him as one of their own means a lot. Means a lot more than he's willing to let Hadrian know. For reasons. God of the Underworld has a big ego and, well, it'd do no good to fill it, right?

Sable Amasi || Bastet
"She doesn't know it, but sometimes I come by when I know she's not home just to pet her cats."

Amane Mikami || Benzaiten
"She teaches me Japanese! Watashi wa toire wa desu ka."

Ellen Dove || Aphrodite
"Hadrian tells me it's a bad idea, but she's probably one of my best friends. We drink so much wine together."

Hewitt Danford || Huitzilopochtli
"Oh, he's a scary man."

Andrew Jackley || Anubis
"Ellen and I call him Goobis. He's kinda awesome."

Jordan Natter || Jörmungandr
"He looks like a fun guy, but he's kinda mean."

Sebastian Morales || Maximón
"His cat is the best. He maybe not so much."

Regan Macguire || The Morrigan
"She doesn't like to talk to me much."

Kora Black || Persephone
"Hadrian keeps telling me not to talk to her. I don't know why?"

June Fallon || Nemesis
"I don't know if she likes to glare or if she's legit glaring at me."





Personification of the Moon
Basic Profile
|Name|
Máni Mundilfärison
|Alias(es)|
Emmanuel Welch
|Gender|
Male
|Sexuality|
Homosexual
|Relationship Status|
Single
|Pantheon/Faith|
Norse
|Occupation|
Mani has gone through several occupations, gone to college about twenty times. His most memorably time was when he went to Yale when it first founded to become a bishop for the local church. He found Catholicism interesting, but after a few years he tired of it.
Among the occupations and degrees he's gone through are: physics teacher, astronomer, bus driver, bartender, and manager at a Starbucks.
Recently, he's gone back to gather another Astronomy degree and currently works in an observatory for the University of Arizona.


"She's gone. She's really gone."
Appearance
|Godly Appearance|
Mani, unlike his sister, went to the skies without complaint and came, upon his chariot, shrouded in silver. It was said that the gods themselves felt hubris over both brother and sister, as their beauty radiated through day and night. So much so, that their father, Mundilfari, chose Máni, the moon, and Sól, the sun, as their names. Beautiful as they were, beauty only came as a curse and for their father's hubris they were punished. Before the fall of the gods, Mani shone bright in the sky while he glided around the moon in his chariot, a protector that the gods of the moon smiled at—and a companion to the ever lonely Chang'e, trapped just as he in endless rotations.
Other than his silver glow, a reflection of the moon, Mani doesn't differ much from mortals in his visage. He remains his height in both godly and mortal appearance (5'9"), as well as retaining the same physical build. His white curls fold under an iron viking helmet, with silver gilding along the eyes and down the bridge of his nose that shine with the dull grey of his irises. A matching torso of iron mail wraps around his chest, buttoned in clasps of jade given to him by the Chinese moon goddess. The ensemble fits together with his iron leggings and greaves, gilded and trimmed in silver along the edges and creases of the armor.
|Earthly Appearance|
Sharp, like a bird with creases of stress that wrinkle his visage, Mani strikes a crude resemblance to his godly self, and the individual that drove the Asgardians to jealousy. Crooked nose dips into thin, pursed lips that slide over white teeth in a grimace. Mani's cheeks are made for smiling, with their height and prominence, rosy in complexion and rounded perfect by the jowls framing the corners of his mouth. The wrinkles end at his jowls and smooth into an angled jawline that curves toward a narrow chin to neatly frame his face in a diamond. The features of his face embolden in the frame of dark brown, considered long for short hair that fall along the top and side of his hair in a lion's mane coif. Of all the features, Mani takes the greatest pride in his hair, keeping it healthy and perpetually soft to touch; and does Mani appreciate a welcomed touch through his wavy locks.
Mani's skin radiates a fair glow, pale in complexion but not strikingly so, from days away from the bright burn of the sun. It leaves his body in a similar hue, over a lean, muscular frame that accents broad shoulders and a more prominent chest. Mani's posture accentuates the more conspicuous parts of his body, which bounds with a careful, thought out poise. Many of Mani's mannerisms remain stilled and calm with a gentle motion to them; most everything Mani does is deliberate.
A near blinding obedience used to shield the emotions loose in his eyes, a vibrant blue backdrop for complacency. However, these passing days a single-minded determination colors the hues of his iris a dark midnight. Coming through in different shades, darker and darker as it goes, the blue radiates from the pupil in an angry burst of color that layer over each other as they fall into the whites of his eyes. They're cold and distant now, more like the blackness he once found a home in, yet without the bright stars that dot the abyss or the moon to reflect upon the sun's glory. They're ice. They're the depths of the ocean and unfathomable in their dimmed glow. Much like Mani himself remains an enigma, though his cause has never been more obvious.


"Life gives you lemons? You make like a rabbit and hop off."
Who Am I?
|Personality|
Prior to Ragnarok, as he and many other Norse gods call it, Mani took to his job with relative ease—Mundilfari always prided himself with an obedient son. Like the moon, Mani felt calm disposition lighten his veins, lessening the fear of being chased into eternity in an orbit around the celestial body. He supposes, he handled the situation a lot better than his sister ever did—or maybe worse? Sol had always expressed herself freely, let herself see the joys in life and they only ever saw each other in passing, when the moon's orbit brought it closest to the sun.
Looking back now, Mani feels more shame than anything. Why make excuses for gods driven by passion and hatred? That, of all things, Mani regrets the most. The moon itself isn't a cold being, not spiritually at least. Maybe lonely, as Chang'e and her Jade Rabbit were. Maybe disembodied like Coyolxahqui, betrayed by her family and a betrayer herself. Mani, though, of all beings trapped among the crude surface, felt the bond between he and the lunar body rip a part and the dread of impending oblivion sink in. Now, wandering earth in search of purpose, Mani only feels a cold hatred; ironic, as he was chased by Hati, the one who hates.
That coldness drives him further from the gods he sees now. No longer hindered by a filter of ignorance and willful naivety, Mani's hate runs for the deities that sent him to guard the moon in the first place. He shouldn't say guard. No, he was more bait than vanguard. And that hatred drives Mani, both further in his life and further into the ground. Somehow, it's okay, though, to be angry all the time. To just want to throw every piece of furniture out a 10 story window. Because anger feeds into determination, perseverance, a will to continue forward instead of going back or standing still. Mani refuses to remain idol, refuses to continue looking to the past, regardless of how much of it he holds on to; it's always forward for him and if he has to cut a few corners and run people out of his way, then Mani's more than willing.
|Family|
Sól - Sister. Supposedly deceased. Killed by Fenrir.
Mundilfari - Father.
|Strengths|
Nocturnal
Obedient
Learned
Determined
Conscientious
|Weaknesses|
Vindictive
Lost
Callous
Repressive
Overworks Self
|Likes|
Horses
Nightlife
Quiet/Solitude
Starbucks Frappes
Stargazing
|Dislikes
The Sun
White Fluorescent Lights
Heat
Mornings
Getting Out of Bed
|History|
The sky is burning.
The sky is burning. Cold ashen rays from the sun to melt the ocean and the earth in slow waves. The sky was burning and he could do nothing about it, driving the moon from spiteful Hati. These gods and their wars, pulling him and his sister into a fight they would have taken no part in. But, obedient Mani had no qualms. Obedient Mani had seen the Asgardians as heroes and leaders, obviously their decision concluded after many hard nights of reasoning. Prophecies and jealousy and hatred. They took them from their father and they cast them in chariots to guard the moon and the sun, ever chased by Fenrir's ilk—Sköll and Hati. Until prophecy dictated the wolves catch their quarry and devour them whole. He should have listened to his sister's hateful spite.
Events didn't quite unfold that way, at least not for Mani. For his sister, Sol, Sköll hadn't been the one to catch her, Fenrir did the deed and ate her whole. All the gods reigning dominion over the sun never once looked twice at the stalwart protector as her chariot fell from the skies, a comet and tear to rip open the sky. Yet, Mani hadn't heard of her death until he'd gotten free himself—hadn't realized the comet that fell to earth had been her chariot. His quarrels ended when the Shinto god of the moon, Tuskuyomi, intervened in the battle and chase with one swoop of his sword. The wolf Hati, burned by the sword and without a left hand, turned and fled to his father's side to aid in his battle.
Left to wander the skies in search of his sister, rather than the surveillance of the moon, Mani came to find no solace in the stars he called home. The gods of the sun gave him no head and so he, enraged, fell to the earth to discard his chariot and leave the moon without a sentinel to watch over. Luckily for him, Mani's timing occurred nearly perfectly, as once he landed the gods, as well as he, signed a pact to relinquish their powers. Thus, Mani's chariot would have been forced from his care regardless of his decision and thus left to roam the earth again, after millenia.
With no real word on his sister, Mani assumed her dead by the hands of Fenrir and thus he spent the next century or so finding the likely downgraded wolf to enact some kind of vengeance. Being near-human, however, that search came and went and Mani soon found himself tired and lost as to what to do. Thus, he moved along with humanity, content to learn and study and occupy his time, but still as lost as ever. He staid away from most gods, loathing most beings for both casting them to the sky and letting Sol perish. The only gods he ever had any real contact, and contentment with were those in the Shinto dominion, as they came to his aid when he needed it the most.
Bouncing from country to country to eventually continents, Mani finally settled somewhere in Arizona with another astronomy degree (since one from the 18th century seemed slightly phony) and a yearning to look back to the skies.
|Opinion on Mortals|
"I live among them. I at least care a little bit of what happens to them, and likely won't bargain their lives away, but other than dire situations, I don't much care for them."
Mani's relationship with mortals, in general, is rather indifferent. Of course, he would side with them in a heartbeat if the situation threatened their well being, but most of the time Mani doesn't pay them much attention. Maybe that's because he's a relative introvert, preferring his solitude over much else, as well as his work. Most humans don't pay him mind, as he's often hunched over papers, books, or preoccupied with a telescope or computer.
|Theme Song|
Cosmic Love – Florence + The Machine
”The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart”


"Is it bad that I have no idea what to do with myself?"
Mortal vs. Immortal
|Mortal Skills/Abilities|
With a drive and a purpose, anyone can do whatever it is their heart requests. For Mani, that meant quite a few things. The former god of the moon knows too much math for his own good, keeping himself routed in physics based calculus and graphing to aid in his astronomy work. Speaking of which, Mani would gladly discuss each and every one of the heavenly bodies, telescopes, satellites, how everything works out in space. He'll talk for days, if he's allowed to.
Aside from that, Mani is exceptionally skilled at driving, playing the piano, taking care of horses, horse riding, and coffee foam art.
|Immortal Skills/Abilities|
Mani didn't have an arsenal of godly weapons at his disposal. To be honest, he didn't and still doesn't have much. Of all things, though, Mani has speed and will out race almost anyone that's not Hermes or Mercury, especially in a vehicle. He still kind of retains that speed and the ability of enhanced perception whilst traveling at an inhuman velocity, so his reflexes and thoughts are infinitely better in fast situations.
One power he will regain is superhuman healing when in the moonlight, as well as night vision, and enhanced strength, senses, and reflexes. There's honestly not much else besides that.
At the end of his shift in power, Mani will be able to summon his chariot, which travels roughly the speed of a jet airplane, but when given the space to do so, i.e. in space, it can travel at light speeds. He also regains his shield, able to hold off even Fenrir for but a short time.


"I have never been so amazed at the idea of sleep. I do it so much now."





Serpent of the Wind, God of Rain, Winds, Creator of the World
Basic Profile
|Name|
Quetzalcohuātl
|Alias(es)|
Q'uq'umatz
Kukulkan
Waxaklahun Ubah Kan
Ehécatl
As of now he refers to himself as Querida Castillo; goes by Reed for short, most of the time.
|Gender|
Genderless. Uses masculine pronouns
|Sexuality|
Gray-A
|Relationship Status|
Single. Why would I trifle in meaningless affairs?
|Pantheon/Faith|
Mesoamerican
|Occupation|
Reed, since the fall of the Mesoamerican pantheon and the subsequent fall of gods themselves, has been busy at exploring various jobs. So far, he's gone through construction work to being a CFO to a large oil company stationed in Texas during the 1900s. Recently, though, Reed has taken to playing the piano, a hobby he'd picked up at the start of his 'mortal' life and has since been honing for centuries. He's preformed quite a bit in the 1920s, stopped, and started up during World War II. After the 60s, he saved up all his earnings and took a vacation for a few decades before opening a small business. It started off as a coffee shop in the 90s, gave that up in the 2000s and opened a lounge/bar in San Diego that catered to an older era, aesthetic wise. He lets various artists preform there, most of them unknown and most of them he personally likes. On occasion, he'll sing and play piano.


Appearance
|Godly Appearance|
Quetzalcoatl personifies fear, embodies it with every coil of his body and feather of his wings. Pyramids erected in his name, possessing exact time and day and sunlight, call to a beast of the wind and child of the heavens. Dwarfing even the dragons of the middle age, Quetzal more resembles the visage of the great king Ao Guang with his serpentine form. All sharp edges of green, turquoise, and gold, Quetzalcoatl's scales remind of the great Mayan pyramids with steps wide to the top
|Earthly Appearance|
How would they appear as a mortal from day to day life? What are their striking features? At least one solid paragraph.


Who Am I?
|Personality|
Who could be more of a snake than the giant snake himself?
Of all traits, Quetzalcoatl has always been known for his cunning. Of course, a lot of people like to call it assholery. Douchebag a la mode. Fuckboi with a side of asshat. Quetzalcoatl simply calls it, "I'm smarter than you." And, by leaps and bounds, Quetzal's intellect soars at great heights, maybe a little too great for his ego. Regardless, despite his usual pompous demeanor, Quetzal's mind looks at situations and issues more analytically than most people. His mind takes a problem and puts it in a database, catalogs it, and then searches for a solution all within the span of a few moments. That isn't to say he does this with every moment of his life and Quetzal has found that a lot of times, his solutions don't seem to fix the problem as a whole, but merely puts a tarp over it and calls it a day.
Supposedly, that leads to Quetzalcoatl's more relaxed nature. After so many years of strife, war, killing, sacrifices made in his honor, it's gotten to the point where Quetzalcoatl simply wishes to not care. For a while. For a good, long time. He's spent too long being serious and working up a persona that's far too exaggerated to resemble who he really is. And now, exhaustion seems to have caught him by the tail feathers and yanked him down into a weird complacency. A spot where Quetzal doesn't ever feel the need to exert his full effort or put his whole self into anything that he doesn't find personally enjoyable. Thus, Quetzal tires of things easily and people even more so. Many war gods (most of the Aztec pantheon, let's be real here) tend to attribute this to a lack of strife and battle, which he'll concede too because Quetzal isn't an argumentative person, even if they're entirely wrong. If he wants to win something, he'll do it his own way.
And then there's the part of Quetzalcoatl that shows just a glimpse of the great being he used to be. Not many people can match the vindictive streak that Quetzal has and will continue to pull off. Usually, the punishment fits the crime—or, at least it does so in Quetzal's mind. For too used to the cruel ways of the Aztec's, Quetzal's methods of getting back at someone can border on the sadistic and often leads to very nasty repercussions on his part. If a man is willing to mow down an entire nation back when he held the power, maybe it's not quite the best idea to get on his bad side. Because that's a lot of hatred to pour into just one person.
|Family|
Tezcatlipoca
Huitzilopochtli
|Strengths|
Clever
Persuasive
Elusive
Amiable
Attentive
|Weaknesses|
Clumsy
Hella Vindictive
Immoral
Ruthless
Repressive
|Likes|
Rum
Lounging
Sunbathing
Being Shirtless a Lot
Flying
|Dislikes
Being Grounded
Ursurpers
Mongoose
Being Woken Up
Swimming
|History|
None were quite as revered as he, upon his throne of stone and golden rays. He was the sun and the moon; the stars shone in his name, beating like the hearts carved upon his altar. And yet, for a king he did not fall with grace. When he fell, he took the world with him—world swallower. The ruination of kingdoms.
In the years passing, whilst the Aztecs reigned in warfare in doom and the Mayans held their culture until the waters fled them, Quetzalcoatl became ever more content with his waning thirst. From rejoicing in the hearts of his followers to throwing their offerings in disgust. Quetzalcoatl grew far more than most of his Mesoamerican brethren aimed to. But, bloodthirst was never a staple for the serpent, even when it felt nice to sink his fangs into something sweet enough that it popped.
It was this that Quetzalcoatl had been betrayed for. And the temples in his name seemed like dust with the people raising their shouts and battle cries to the serpent coiled around them. He supposed he owed much of this to his dear brother, who looked upon his throne and saw only the green of his scales from those slit eyes. And the jaguar whispered his deceit into the ears of the Mesoamerican people, of the damnation their king would bring them.
At that moment, neither of them knew of the truth.
He supposed it didn't matter, when his brother took him by the wings and shred them with fangs and teeth and claws and tossed him to the sea. Living, it seemed, was his brother's insult, like he spat upon his grave and told him he wasn't worth it. Quetzalcoatl seethed. He raged and the seas cried in anger with him. From there he tore through the ocean with something more than just his pride to heal.
When he arrived upon the coast of Portugal, Quetzalcoatl took to blending with the mortals easily, as many gods had done in the years that had passed. From there, Quetzalcoatl ventured to Spanish and made a name for himself, until Quetzalcoatl became Hernan Cortes and his eyes were set to the coast of Mexico. From there, the snake readied his venom and when he set sail all his eyes could see was the red of flames as Tenochtitlan burned to the ground.
Upon making ground, the people looked upon him as their returned god Quetzalcoatl and they couldn't have been more correct. To know that these people expected him after his own flesh and blood brother threw him to the sharks, that made it all the easier to continue the charade. And from there, Quetzalcoatl would uproot the Aztec people and burn them to the ground. From here on out, Quetzalcoatl saw only in red and he found it easier to massacre his own people than to think about exactly what crimes he was committing. It wasn't until he gutted the current ruler, Moctezuma, and set the Aztec people alight with rebellion did Quetzalcoatl finally understand the horrors and atrocities he'd committed. But, he'd come this far.
After making a hasty retreat, Quetzalcoatl regrouped his men and turned their advance once more upon the island city of Tenochtitlan. From afar, with his back turned to the flames, his home came under siege and was finally brought to its knees. He claimed it for the Spanish and the Aztecs dispersed, the nation toppled, and the few remaining willingly bowing to their Spanish conquerors.
The memory, to this day, remains locked away in the deep orifices of Quetzalcoatl's mind. He went through various trials then, quickly shedding his title as Cortes and becoming a man of his own. Without revenge and vendetta plaguing his thoughts, Quetzalcoatl was free to do as the other gods had done. He made a life for himself, though he often hopped from here to there, working through jobs and the various enterprises, but mostly getting bored of them and the people.
He went from Mexico to the states in the early 1900s, quickly picking up the piano and finding a nice niche in the growing, industrial boomtown of New York City. He made something out of himself, lost his mind in the music, and eventually went through various tours, disappeared, and did the exact same thing under a new alias. It wasn't until he'd gotten tired of the constant travel and audience that Quetzalcoatl came up with the name Querido Castillo, finished out a great year for his career, and finally settled on a business that quickly turned into something big on the West Coast. Well, big for a small business. It was nice enough. Not too prestigious, but not too much of a hole in the wall that he was scrambling for money.
And now, he doesn't really know what he'll do with himself.
|Opinion on Mortals|
"Silly things, humans are. One moment they're willing to gut a man to appease a god and the next they're willing to stab someone to death to steal a wallet full of nothing."
Quetzalcoatl both appreciates human beings for what they are, but also looks down upon them. Of course, the latter part is often of the more subtle variety, since he's not the top to go flaunting his fallen godhood, but, for the most part, it's still pretty evident. Plus, they're gullible and mean and treacherous. Despite that, they'd have to do quite a bit to cause Quetzal to rain down his ire for a second time. It'd have to be big, but he doesn't doubt that they're capable.
Most of all, though, Quetzalcoatl has a deep regret for what he's done and if he should ever lose that control again, he's not quite sure he could handle being sober, much like what The Morrigan has become.
|Theme Song|
Pompeii – Bastille
”We were caught up and lost in all of our vices
In your pose as the dust settled around us”


Mortal vs. Immortal
|Mortal Skills/Abilities|
What skills have they picked up that lie outside the realm of their godly abilities? Also, what residual effects do their powers have on mortals? Aphrodite being attractive, Apollo being a great guitar player and so on.
|Immortal Skills/Abilities|
While the deities begin to regain their powers, slowly, what is it that your character will be able to do/how can they influence the world in supernatural ways? Bear in mind these will be weakened forms to begin with. Eg. Zeus can’t reign down thunder and murder entire cities, but he can probably cast it at one person; Hermes can run at incredible speed, but not to the extent he could as a God...






The Eight Legged Horse of Odin
Basic Profile
|Name|
Sleipnir
|Alias(es)|
Stephen Lord
|Gender|
Male
|Sexuality|
Demisexual Homoromantic
|Relationship Status|
Single
|Pantheon/Faith|
Norse
|Occupation|



|Godly Appearance|
A written description of your character’s appearance as an immortal, or how they otherwise differed from normal humans. Some might even have taken an animal or animalistic form. Include traditional weapons or armor that have become their symbols.
|Earthly Appearance|
How would they appear as a mortal from day to day life? What are their striking features? At least one solid paragraph.

 Am I?
|Personality|
What kind of person is your character? What are their motivations? How do they interact with people around them? Also include things like how they’ve changed ever since they’ve transitioned into mortal life. Have they gotten kinder? Meaner? Etc
Be sure to write in flaws! Absolutely no Mary Sues/Gary Stus
|Family|
Loki - Father
Svaðilfari - Mother
Fenrir - Half-Brother
Jormungandr - Half-Brother
Hel - Half-Sister
|Strengths|
At least 5



 
|Weaknesses|
At least 5



 
|Likes|
At least 5



 
|Dislikes
At least 5



 
|History|
Obviously a gloss on what they’ve done in human history since coming into existence. Must include what they were known for, how they reacted to the agreement to give up their powers, and what they have done since as a pseudo-mortal.
|Opinion on Mortals|
What do they think about other mortals, who have no knowledge of the gods? What do they think about being one of them – sort of?
|Theme Song|
Song – Artist
”A few lyrics here, please.”
|Favorite Myth|
What's your favorite story from any mythology or religion. If you don't have one, any book will do!

 vs. Immortal
|Mortal Skills/Abilities|
What skills have they picked up that lie outside the realm of their godly abilities? Also, what residual effects do their powers have on mortals? Aphrodite being attractive, Apollo being a great guitar player and so on.
|Immortal Skills/Abilities|
While the deities begin to regain their powers, slowly, what is it that your character will be able to do/how can they influence the world in supernatural ways? Bear in mind these will be weakened forms to begin with. Eg. Zeus can’t reign down thunder and murder entire cities, but he can probably cast it at one person; Hermes can run at incredible speed, but not to the extent he could as a God...