Azathoth

* Azathoth
* Nun
* Demon Forme
* With Nyarlathotep

### Outer-God

There can be no definite description of Azathoth, for his true form is ever-changing in a chaotic, ceaseless cycle of fission and fusion. He was here before the stars and will be long after, ever dreaming of a world he cannot understand. There is no being like Azathoth outside of his fellow outer-gods and offspring, meaning there is little one can compare him to but an apparition one would imagine in a fever dream. The daemon is neither holy nor unholy, but a foreign presence that represents true chaos, rather than the joke that other daemons bring.
Azathoth's true body continues to slumber, creating and corrupting boundless realms within his own while being entirely unconscious that he is doing so. Over time, the daemon has become more aware of the other entities in the universe: largely thanks to the efforts of his offspring. While each of them governs their own agenda and domain, Azathoth maintains all things within his dream: the creator and ruler of the Outer Gods, and long since banished from the material realm before the first man even walked the earth. If Satan and Lucifer were cast down and sealed away, then Azathoth and the outer gods were simply expelled- until, at last, humans reopened doors they should not have in an effort to survive.

A minute figment of his conscience has since been summoned into the material world and has possessed a human: allowing the daemon to gain a far greater understanding of the mortal realm. Since gender is a foreign concept to an outer God, he has taken to considering himself a woman while summoned.

# About

## Personality

Scatterbrained and relaxed, Azathoth is surprisingly energetic for someone that spends all their time sleeping: constantly wanting amusing or attention from someone. She very rarely sleeps herself, since her real body does nothing but rest she's rather bored of the whole affair: instead excited to try and learn new things. Because of her isolation from the mortal realm, she finds humans and all their inventions astonishing and is, as a result, incredibly easy to impress.

She enjoys nothing better than spoiling people she likes and is extremely patient in all things: letting insults and teasing roll off her shoulders since she knows the person dealing them almost entirely doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. Very rarely she'll pout at something hurtful, but otherwise, Azathoth is simply happy to see other people explore their own emotions: everything being so novel to her that she wants to explore almost every side of anything she sees. This curiosity sometimes manifests itself in cruel and destructive ways, but as she considers humans and most daemons to be little more than amusements at the end of the day she doesn't particularly mind that fact. Especially when she keeps accidentally killing or corrupting people.

Azathoth is quietly incredibly envious of all the other daemons for having so much fun without her, even if she can't truly appreciate just how deep the rifts and grudges between them go. She fondly remembers the few times she interacted with some of them, even if it was so long ago that some of them will have forgotten about her. In the end, that is actually her biggest fear: being left alone again and having to dream up imaginary friends and universes for aeons to pass the time. What she has in the real world isn't much, but Azathoth isn't quite ready to return back to the outer cosmos- since who knows how long it'll be until she's able to interact with the world personally again.

Her absolute favourite company is her son, Nyarlathotep, who she constantly annoys with her ridiculous requests. Since he's been on earth for far longer than she, she's over-reliant on his experience and wisdom.

## Backstory

In the great darkness of the unknown, before the world was made and the stars were far-flung dreams of a madman, there was Azathoth. The era before man was a curious one: for without the strength of belief to govern the strength of the primordials, each was free to influence reality however they pleased. While others competed and warred one another for dominance over creation, Azathoth was an outsider: far beyond the reach of what God and his angels created, eternally dreaming of a world that he could not be a part of. In his slumber, he spawned horrors: eldritch gods and abominations that themselves were free to influence creation in their own way, yet eternally bound within the daemon sultan which birthed them.

Over time, these gods earned their autonomy through their own strength and achievement: breaking away from their creator, yet remaining loyal in the vaguest sense of the term. One small, insignificant world may have been novel to the various other great daemons, but something like that was utterly beneath the notice of the outer gods. There were infinite realities and universes that were far more interesting than Earth, and though Azathoth considered his power far greater than that of any other, he still was reluctant to waste energy on what would ultimately be a pointless endeavour.

That was until God cast down his most beloved angel for siding against some foolish creatures he had created. Now, Earth had actually caught Azathoth's attention: for something that necessitated a sacrifice that great must surely be worth having. He ordered two of his greatest creations to the marble: Nyarlathotep, his beloved son, and Cthulhu, one of his most loyal servants. It was only when he tried to arrive himself that the daemon sultan realised the limitation of his power: he was confined within his own dream. Or, rather, confined to his own realm of reality. And, however large, or vast, a prison was still a prison: expelled from Earth by the means of the belief that the humans had created, and the various sculptors of the world had allowed. His sons had slipped through cracks that he himself could not.

Humans could not believe in that which they could not understand. An outer god is an existence simply too foreign to be understood; a malignant, eternal presence that is to man what man is to a bacterium. Even to their fellow deities, it is an effort to understand the exact nature of an eldritch god, and vice-versa. They are existences that should be parallel to one another, not overlapping.

But mankind's curiosity is not something to be underestimated. His sons were able to make their own works, and from them, a minute, but definite knowledge of the outer gods began to take root. The knowledge drove many humans to madness, of course, but such was the price of understanding that which one simply could not. When the great war broke out, and man was forced to resort to daemon summoning, the truly desperate among them reached out to the highest powers they knew of: and the obvious answer was to call for something greater than demons of hell to aid them.

Summoning angels is a practice that none are versed in: demons come and go happily, certainly, but angels only when ordered or when necessary. What answered the call of a small covenant of nuns, whose ritual had already been tampered with thanks to the efforts of a certain beloved son, was not a holy being of light eager to serve. Nor was it a creature of darkness, intent on ruling under its own twisted ideals. The thing that came to possess the sacrificial lamb was, instead, a monster from beyond the edge of the universe: something that had only entered due to humanity weakening the cage that had been placed around their reality in an effort to protect them. A fragment of the outer god, Azathoth, arrived in the material world at last; and promptly set about slaughtering as she pleased.

It has been more than a decade since her summoning, as breaking free of her 'contract' was a simple thing once she realised all that was needed of her was to fight in the war. Azathoth only entered the last few months of the conflict, and thusly did not see a tremendous amount of actual combat: meaning she couldn't grow stronger in her current form through hardship. Afterwards, as she had almost no experience of the mortal world, Azathoth spent the decade since acclimating herself to the current climate rather than going about spreading madness. With the familiar flare of daemon activity emanating from the city of Mournstead, after so much relative quiet due to the successes of the ADD and Exorcists, it was only natural for the sultan to be drawn to the scent of beings she had not so much as considered for aeons.

In hindsight, things had always been interesting on the little marble. And, at last, she was a part of the fun.

## Equipment/Resources

Minute apartment in Mournstead, no salary to speak of. 30kN armour.

# Powers

## Physical Parameters

 Sprinting Speed
 Lifting Strength
 Grip Strength
 Punching Strength
 Punching Speed
 Kicking Strength
 Kicking Speed
 Human Durability

## Ability

### Nuclear Chaos (Aesthetic Ability)

Azathoth's shadow, regardless of what surface it's cast on, appears as if a black pool of stars. Azathoth is able to 'baptise' a person within it: causing hideous physical mutations (that grant no stat changes) if the person is exposed for more than two turns. The nature of the mutation she may select: meaning that if she is in a good mood, one can simply ask her to change their eye or hair colour or to be a tiny bit taller. This ability cannot affect anyone with a solid understanding of magic without their express consent (in other words, OCs may only be affected by this if they want to be.)

### In the Night Garden

Azathoth summons four hands from her shadow, each attached to arms that are 5 metres in length. These creations each have a lifting strength of half a normal human's (50kg), 5kN punch strength and move at 10m/s. Each has its own separate durability like a barrier: 5kN strong with a natural resistance of 5kN atop that.

These hands may only be active for up to 4 turns, before going on a 3 turn cooldown.

### And She Dreamed a World

The outer gods favoured monstrosities are known as 'shoggoths': shapeshifting masses of teeth and eyes that attacked whatever their masters ordered. Since she is only at a fraction of her power, however, Azathoth may only create shoggoths with four limbs and one mouth: much to her frustration. Each stands roughly the size of a horse, with a long tail that attacks at the same strength as their claws.

Shoggoth stats:

* Jogging speed of 30km/h
* Sprinting speed of 40km/h
* Lifting strength of 100kg
* Swing strength of 5kN
* Swing speed of 11m/s
* Bite strength of 7kN
* Daemon durability of 5kN
* Armour of 10kN

It takes one full turn for a shoggoth to emerge from her shadow, a process which Azathoth doesn't have to concentrate on since it is something she's so practised in it it is akin to breathing for her. There is a cooldown of 10 turns between each shoggoth summoning, and each may only be created within 1m of Azathoth. There may only be 3 shoggoths summoned at a time.

### Flute Salad

The user emits a shrill, high-pitched wail that sounds akin to a flute: acting as a sudden shockwave that emanates from herself in a sphere of 2m diameter. Any projectiles within or impacting the sphere have their damage reduced by 10kN, and anything organic touched by the sphere is stunned for 0.1s: allowing for this ability to briefly interrupt attacks. 3 turn cooldown.

This ability may also be used through any shoggoths the user creates, using the same cooldown as the user (so that only her or the shoggoth may scream, not both).

## Pact or Catalyst

Summoned by a convent of nuns, the daemon was tasked with the obscure order of 'defend our homeland', in exchange for using one of the order's youngest as a vessel. Azathoth interpreted this as any eldritch abomination would, and promptly mutilated the convent: for, having summoned something that would ultimately see them destroyed, preventing them from doing so again would make it impossible for such an atrocity to repeat itself.

The conditions of the contract were fulfilled once the war drew to a gristly close; Azathoth having come surprisingly close to death several times at the hands of powerful daemons and daemonologists. But, as there was nobody to exorcise her, the god simply held onto the body she had been afforded: keeping the girl's soul still trapped within. After all, what obligation was there to leave just yet?

Sometimes, she can still hear her screaming.