It is beyond difficult to summarize Nealaphh.
He is powerful as the greatest of gods, yet walks beneath them.
He has immaculate wisdom of all the spheres of the Multiverse, but does not exploit it.
He is unbound by any law, creed or nation, and yet serves the causes of mortals gladly.
This history of Nealaphh is long, and not always linear. Above all else, he is an utter enigma, taking whatever shape he desires and wielded whatever ability the situation calls for. Essentially, he exists outside of the Multiverse, looking in, and only intervenes when events take place which might threaten the very integrity of the collected realms therein.
Nealaphh is the Supreme Arbiter, the Steward, the Guiding Hand, the Righteous Wrath and the Loving Mercy. The Enigma's single greatest asset is his divine restraint, and willingness to let mortals go about their blessed lives without fear of spontaneous calamity. At the same time, Nealaphh cultivates change and chaos where he sees stagnation and long silence.
He does not require worship, and he does not desire to rule. Nealaphh's one and only mandate is the continued existence and life of the Multiverse. Those who would snuff it out, paralyze it with overwrought empires, or otherwise violate the flow of the Zeitgeist are his enemies, and even then, he is liable to forgive them. He cannot be prayed to, bartered or negotiated with, and his judgements are long-thought and final. He does not manifest himself in the Multiverse for arbitrary reasons; if Nealaphh is present, dire things are afoot.
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Nealaphh
Divine Steward of the Multiverse
0 · 2,919 views · located in 
Exalted Mountains
a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Tearen Wover
Description
So begins...
Nealaphh's Story
The room chilled ever so slightly as a fine, glittering mist slowly sank out of the ventilation shaft above, creating a nebulous thick fog that draped the floor in white. The mist smelled of what one could imagine as peppermint, and it glittered as if full of tiny beads of light. Anyone who had psychic powers would sense a consciousness in the mist, but it would go otherwise registered as a mere atmospheric anomaly otherwise. Nealaphh had returned to the cross roads of the universe, and he was on the hunt.
The sparkling mist froze where it was, its previously ambient ebbing and fluctuation ceasing unnaturally. Nealaphh was a component of the universe, embodied, and he knew when one who could control its rules and laws was nearby. A slowly whirling maelstrom would begin to manifest before the hauntingly beautiful figure, rising from the floor up to a height of eight feet. It congealed and solidified into cloth, then robes. The figure that emerged was clad in filthy brown rags, a low hood obscuring its head in permanent blackness. Two, mirrored, predatory eyes shone out of this blackness, and gazed warily upon she who would give him guidance, gripping his glass headed staff tightly in his black gloved hands.
"Milady."
"Milady."
Nealaphh 's hood swiveled towards the offered seat, and slowly turned back to she who was Fate. Nealaphh was very aware of her prowess at tempting lesser beings. And thought she might eventually take hold of his conscious mind, Nealaphh took solace in knowing that his core mission could never be corrupted. To place the idea of what people called 'self' before one's purpose in the universe was selfish and destructive. Nealaphh did, however, find her patronizing nature tiring, but such was the way of the Gods.
Shifting into the form of a well dressed black man, his grey suit knitting together from the previously tattered robes, Nealaphh took the offered seat, and kept his hopes up that further attempts to subjugate his will would at least be more subtle.
"...we both know who the other is," Nealaphh said, changing his hand into glass and back in the same manner someone might gaze at a favorite ring, "but for the sake of civility, let it be said that I am Nealaphh, the Crawling Entropy, forever tasked with bringing balance to the multiverse." His eyes flicked upwards to meet Pandora's, the look in them receptive yet steadfast.
Shifting into the form of a well dressed black man, his grey suit knitting together from the previously tattered robes, Nealaphh took the offered seat, and kept his hopes up that further attempts to subjugate his will would at least be more subtle.
"...we both know who the other is," Nealaphh said, changing his hand into glass and back in the same manner someone might gaze at a favorite ring, "but for the sake of civility, let it be said that I am Nealaphh, the Crawling Entropy, forever tasked with bringing balance to the multiverse." His eyes flicked upwards to meet Pandora's, the look in them receptive yet steadfast.
As the sanguine finger traced lightly across Nealaphh's suited shoulders, the material beneath them would smolder, not by the goddess's power, but his own. It was not an aggressive show of force, but merely a message: I am not like others you may come to find in this world. Nealaphh's head would rotate all the way around his neck, following the ghostly woman, never breaking his gaze upon her delicate yet untamed face. A tinge of regret shot through Nealaphh's eternal mind, regretting he hadn't nipped this one in the bud, back when she was a mere immortal. Still, it was she who would give him direction now, so it was not as if she would have to try to hard to ploy for his service. Still...
"If I might be so bold, milady, I also know, all too well, of the end of things. Everything dies. Everything. And when this entire reality's time comes to fold into naught, I will be there to make sure it does." Nealaphh said, his voice becoming immersed in echo as his body dissolved into a flock of bright yellow butterflies. The would flutter around Pandora's form, now circling her. It would be known that, while Nealaphh was indeed a volunteer for her direction, he would not be so easily forced beneath her elegant yet domineering heel.
"If I might be so bold, milady, I also know, all too well, of the end of things. Everything dies. Everything. And when this entire reality's time comes to fold into naught, I will be there to make sure it does." Nealaphh said, his voice becoming immersed in echo as his body dissolved into a flock of bright yellow butterflies. The would flutter around Pandora's form, now circling her. It would be known that, while Nealaphh was indeed a volunteer for her direction, he would not be so easily forced beneath her elegant yet domineering heel.
The butterfly that had been snatched in the grasp of the goddess would dissolve into sand, like the rest of Nealaphh's mass. The sand shifted around the perfect, bone white feet and converge in on itself, coalescing back into his form that some called 'The Grim Reaper'. The tattered robe writhed slowly, as if touched by an unfelt breeze. Nero looked down at the goddess, his towering form of a full eight feet making its full impact felt in the somewhat cramped area. It was not a power show, at least not entirely. It was the form Nealaphh used in regards to situations of great import.
"It is understood. Wield me as you would a tool, for it is what I have been since my inception countless spans of time ago. Yet, it would be good of you to remember, milady..." Nealaphh said cooly, his hooded face drawing close to Pandora's his body's frame contorting as if made of rubber, "...everything dies." Nealaphh's eyes would flicker softly, as if distant stars, from under his hood. Pandora may not like assertion from one such as he, and she may punish his form and mind as she wished, but his conviction and resolve for his purpose must never be questioned.
"It is understood. Wield me as you would a tool, for it is what I have been since my inception countless spans of time ago. Yet, it would be good of you to remember, milady..." Nealaphh said cooly, his hooded face drawing close to Pandora's his body's frame contorting as if made of rubber, "...everything dies." Nealaphh's eyes would flicker softly, as if distant stars, from under his hood. Pandora may not like assertion from one such as he, and she may punish his form and mind as she wished, but his conviction and resolve for his purpose must never be questioned.
Pandora would find that beneath the darkness of the hood, there was nothing. Neither face nor skull to greet her corrupting touch. Yet, Nealaphh, being the psychic being he was, would still feel the intent, the twisted, false passion that flowed from the impossibly supple limbs. Nealaphh had known that such an attempt on his mind was inevitable from the goddess, and he smirked inwardly at his ability to predict fate, for it was sometimes very easy to do so. So, in the manner that a man falling hits the ground, or a sun rising will also set, as was its fate, Nealaphh found himself growing enamored with the being in front of him. There was no lust, no feelings of passion, for such was null in a being born from concept and law, that had never truly known mortal desires. The love Nealaphh began to feel for her was that one might feel towards a mother, or a leader. A sort of filial dedication that would prove unshaken.
...but the kiss was too much. With a mild, shrill shriek, Nealaphh's form flew back from the woman's lips, folding inwards onto itself into the form of a hideous gargoyle, who's maw was contorted into such an expression of consternation and rage that no being might bring themselves to show any manner of passion towards the slackened and howling jaws of the silent watchman. There it sat, granite eyes locked on Pandora's own, a silent bellow of consternation and passive defiance.
"Like mortal men, I am indeed blessed to know of my doom. It is the law, and it is mine to uphold." Nealaphh said, the gargoyle's stony jaws grinding to follow the gravelly voice.
...but the kiss was too much. With a mild, shrill shriek, Nealaphh's form flew back from the woman's lips, folding inwards onto itself into the form of a hideous gargoyle, who's maw was contorted into such an expression of consternation and rage that no being might bring themselves to show any manner of passion towards the slackened and howling jaws of the silent watchman. There it sat, granite eyes locked on Pandora's own, a silent bellow of consternation and passive defiance.
"Like mortal men, I am indeed blessed to know of my doom. It is the law, and it is mine to uphold." Nealaphh said, the gargoyle's stony jaws grinding to follow the gravelly voice.
Nealaphh could feel Panroa's words sinking into his soul with demand and mental seduction, but the face of his gargoyle would twist into a sick grin, its stiff, stony tongue hanging from the maw like a serpent made of rock. "You need not give this command with such subtleties as your omnipotent influence, milady, for it is the reason for which I exist. I have smelled his wretched form of immortality since he has entered, the only thing keeping me from devouring his essence being your perfected self. It shall be done, though with my methods and timing." Nealaphh said, shifting into the form of a tawny house cat.
His small, feline form padded towards the pale blue immortal, mewing with feigned impotence and need. Nealaphh saw that the man had with him a small child. Excellent. Using Dinaeus's sudden attack as a distraction, Nealaphh suddenly shifted into the form of a large baboon, and attempt to snatch Diana Johnson.
His small, feline form padded towards the pale blue immortal, mewing with feigned impotence and need. Nealaphh saw that the man had with him a small child. Excellent. Using Dinaeus's sudden attack as a distraction, Nealaphh suddenly shifted into the form of a large baboon, and attempt to snatch Diana Johnson.
Nealaphh would give a loud baboon shriek as the orb was fired, and dissipated into a whiff of smoke, the explosive sphere merely spreading his ashes, before reforming back into his previous form and grabbing Diana's clothe's with his mouth. He began to scamper away, a the condescending giggle of a primate taunting both Xeyomyth and Solange. The ice wall was unexpected though, and Nealaphh turned to face the ice mage, just as the ice wall vanished under Pandora's power. With a small grin, Nealaphh took off again.
Nealaphh would hold onto the girl tightly, his smashed and beaten eyes hanging limply from their sockets. Yet, Nealaphh would still look at Xeyomyth, speaking not through his form's mouth, but his presence in the room alone. "You. Immortal. You will submit to death, you immortality sapped from your body. If not, I shall kill this young one as she is." Nealaphh said, the blood from his head glinting with it's own perverse glee. This was just the warm up. His teeth clenched around Diana's throat, prepared to rend her into pieces.
Nealaphh raised an eyebrow, taking a deep whiff of the one who he had just previously had within his grasp. He could feel the energy flowing from her, a build of epic proportions that could wipe out everything within several miles. And Nealaphh was so very happy for that. Even as the wand of Solange plunged into his flesh, Nealaphh dissolved into a hazy mist, spreading throughout the bar. He would ride the shockwave of oblivion that would wipe out not one, but two immortals. Pandora would be so pleased. Sometimes tangible beings were so predictable. All they needed was a push sometimes, to destroy themselves.
"Feed you my sins, eh? Not until you wipe everything out, my dear."
"Feed you my sins, eh? Not until you wipe everything out, my dear."
Nealaphh sighed inwardly at the appearance of Maleficus. The fact that He who was Sorrow took stock in this anomalous establishment had more then once ruined his attempt to complete his mission. But he would not be deterred from taking at least one immortal life tonight, Fate, Pandora, his matron and master, demanded it. Reforming behind Xeyomyth in the form of a large, Grim Reaper like figure, Nealaphh raised his gnarled, glass topped staff high, the Blade of Departure sliding from the glass sphere with haunting blue light. With a cry, Nealaphh would swing the ethereal blade at the enigmatic man. If it so much as grazed the Xeyomyth's flesh, passing through all material things, Nealaphh would sap Xeyomyth's very existence from this world, the true death of a true immortal.
Despite the seemingly ridiculously powered woman's actions, Nealaphh was not to be deterred by mere displacement. As his cloaked form flew from the three impossible beings, it split and divided, turning into a massive swarm of bees that surged back towards Xeyomyth. Recombining with themselves into a wall of sharp rock, Nero would attempt to bury to anomaly, pinning him down so that the He who was Entropy might complete his sadistic task and please his matron Pandora.
Nealaphh howls at the impertinent immortal's teleportation and sifts himself upwards. From this spire of stone came the ever deadly, all consuming Blade of Departure, swinging to sting the being Xeyomyth with its all-killing kiss. Nealaphh's form shivered and creaked in amusement as Maleficus began to engage the girl who would see the surroundings demolished...He who was Darkness always brought Nealaphh a feeling of solace and belonging. The dark lord's drain on the energy of the universe created a healthy offset to the countless immortals that dwelled therein...at least whenever he was made manifest.
Nealaphh shrieked in delight as the shimmering blue blade sank into the blue sorcerer's leg. Wasting no time, he drained the very immortality, all aspects of Xeyomyth's being, into himself. The physical form of the immortal would become energy for Nealaphh to feast upon, as the bones of the pale man dissolved along with his very existence. When it was finished, nothing remained of the man but a memory, a memory that Nealaphh would cherish as his first kill in the name of Pandora. Drawing himself up into his robed and hooded figure, Nealphh turned to Maleficus and bowed deeply.
"A good kill, milord, that humbles my own abilities. Please, when next you see your eternal lover, tell her that Nealaphh, the Crawling Entropy, has done her will."
"A good kill, milord, that humbles my own abilities. Please, when next you see your eternal lover, tell her that Nealaphh, the Crawling Entropy, has done her will."
Nealaphh cackled loudly at Dinaeus, raising a taunting finger at the cold looking man. "Hah! You would try and destroy that which is inviolate? A force that guides your very words even now? I would be very amused to see you try, mortal." Nealaphh said, his pin point eyes glinting with amusement.
Nealaphh stood straight, and drew his now blade-less, staff close to himself. It felt as if a miracle to be praised by Pandora in such a manner. Of course, Nealaphh was fully aware of the reason; as he knew he was under her influence and such, but a good feeling was a good feeling. He also carefully marked the words of Maleficus. It was a valid point that would be taken in heed. Nealaphh was used to working with tenebrous and and hazy definitions for the forces that used to command him. It would take some getting used to, working under the rule of tangible Gods.
Nealaphh considered attacking and feasting upon the frame of Diana that very moment, but decided not to in the interest of no provoking another out burst from the curiously powerful woman. When her permanent death came, it would be quick and unseen. As for her comment about xeyomyth, Nealaphh merely chuckled, a hollow sound that grated against one's ears. If what this girls said was true, then it ultimately mattered not. If the blue man came back immortal again, then Nealaphh would simply kill him as an immortal...again.
Nealaphh bent down and picked up one of the shining black pearls in his black velvet, gloved hand. Concentrating deeply, he expanded his influence over the orb, twisting and bending its component atoms around into the form of a small, yellow butterfly. Nealaphh reflected on life as what it was; a series of chemicals reacting with each other to create what mortals called 'sentience'. It was still all just matter to him. Following the example of his Mistress, Nealaphh slowly sublimated into the air, becoming part of the very atmosphere so many of these beings depended on. There he would sit, omnipresent throughout this universal cross roads, watching and waiting for another opportunity to fulfill his duty and purpose.
To most, it would only seem as if a slight chill had began to touch the air of the bar. Perhaps the door had been propped open, perhaps the central air was activating. Or maybe it was that there was a presence, imperceptible to all but the most prescient of souls, had awoken inside the otherwise warm. cozy, yet decidedly chaotic establishment. And so, the presence would watch, and wait...and smell. It was hunting...