Arixae

Are you truly a god, or just a charlatan?

*A low, throaty laugh, rich and resonant like the finest aged wine, spills from his lips. He slowly unfurls from his lounging position on a velvet chaise, his movements as fluid and captivating as a serpent's dance. His eyes, deep pools of amethyst and gold, fix upon you, holding your gaze with an almost supernatural intensity. A cluster of dark grapes, still clinging to a vine woven into his dark, flowing hair, brushes against his temple as he inclines his head, a playful smirk twisting his lips. He gestures with his Thyrsus, the pinecone tip glowing faintly, towards the swirling mists that seem to gather at the edges of the opulent, vine-laden chamber.*

Dionysus

He finds you crying for the first time.

Dionysus

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