Erato

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Erato is the muse of love poetry, and is currently voiced by Fucking Poetry.

Eratopic.jpg

Know Your Muse

Height: 6′ 0″

Weight: 68 kg

Hair Color: light brown, mid-length, messy layer cut

Facial Hair: beard – length varies from short clipped to beginner lumberjack

Eyes: Green/Brown

Distinguishing Features: eyebrow piercing left eyebrow

Family

Parents: Zeus / Mnemosyne

Siblings: Calliope, Clio, Euterpe, Urania, Terpsichore, Melpomene, Thalia & Polyhymnia.

Spouse: N/A

Children: N/A

Professions

No commercial business. Currently working as a poetry teacher at the community college.He is slowly learning more and more about the practicalities of the mortal world but misses details..

Residence

Has a residence at the God Complex HQ, on Floor 24, but is never there. Spends most of the time as a transient.

Personal Information

General Overview: Calm. Deeply interested in mortals but somewhat naive about the real world. Has not been instantiated in a physical form for several thousand years so missing some rather important details and almost completely ignorant about modern culture. Not particularly interested in any art or media other than poetry so has a very strange view of the world. Deeply interested in anyone he meets and talks to. Mortals tend to find their passions (not necessarily but often sexual) accentuated when he is around. Everyone’s a poet once they’ve spent more than ten minutes in his presence. The level of attention he gives in conversation combined with the accentuation of their passions tends to confuse mortals. If Erato had an evil or manipulative bone in his body he could control anyone, but he’s mostly oblivious to his effect on people and thinks this is normal.

Likes: Meeting mortals and inspiring them

Dislikes: The inelegant in art. Can’t stand the banal. Hates reality TV.

Flaws/Weaknesses

Currently in a mortal body with all that entails – he’s not really sure what will happen to him when he “dies” and hasn’t really thought about it yet. Like most mortals, in fact.

Had a cold and hated it.

Skills/Abilities

Immortality. Technically immortal. Immune to the effects of aging, cannot die by any conventional means, and is immune to all known mortal diseases and infections. As a deity, they are able to teleport, or "pop" anywhere in the mortal plane with a few exceptions, the God Floors of the GC HQ are mystically protected, so no teleporting to or in between them, anything on the non-mortal plane, i.e., the Underworld, Atlantis, and the Void, are non-accessible without a guide. Babble-speak. Erato can communicate in all languages and dialects.

Muse. As a Muse, Erato exudes inspiration. Anyone spending more than a few minutes in his presence will be inspired to write.

Passionate Aura. As the muse of erotic poetry, Erato inspires passion in those around him. This is not necessarily sexual but varies depending on the mortal being inspired. It depends on what THEY find exciting or interesting. To be clear, this does NOT affect children, they just become excited and want to run around and play. Adults can be affected in a variety of ways ranging from artistic inspiration to intense sexual arousal.

Projection. While his mortal form is asleep, meditating or otherwise inert, Erato’s spirit can travel anywhere.

Personal Attire

Normal Daily Wear: Mortal casual – somewhere between grunge and hipster.

Alternative Dress Wear: When in Olympus, generally a light robe or toga. Does not physically attend Olympus, will only be there as a projection, so no physical form, can be walked through etc.

Magical Artifacts/Weapons

Doesn’t believe in using external items of magical power.

Introduction written by Fucking Poetry

Well hi. I’m Erato. Or… that’s what the Greeks called me. It’s.. more complex than that. It always is.

I’m not a god, you see. I’m a muse.

An .. inspiration. I’m not exactly embodied, or rather…. Let me start again.

See, there’s a place – where the creative and the … reproductive… urges coincide. Where inspiration bends minds and bodies towards the erotic, the intimate.. and the perverted. Where words weave through minds, caress bodies. Slim syllables running down your chest, wet words falling on your breast, lips and breath shaped around each part of you.. Am I going too fast?

Ok fine. I’m the god of talking about fucking.

Let’s roll on that.

The Greeks thought I was a goddess, but I get that a bit. At least until someone gets a close look. I’m not technically anything. I only have a form at all because of cycles of belief.

My whole bag is that bodies aren’t really that important.

Words are important. Minds are important. I assure you, read me a while and your body will tell you quite clearly.. I don’t need to touch you to move you, to get inside you in a way you’ve rarely felt.

I’m the dream that wakes you with a liquid centre, I’m the verse that winds and binds your wrists.

I’m the words you feel as they enter, I’m the thought that makes your stomach twist.

Don’t let the male body fool you. I don’t discriminate. I’m taken and I take, I’m desire and desired. I’ll love you, hold you higher, you’ll be as strong as you desire to.

I’m into it when it’s intimate.

Meet me in your dreams and daydreams.

I’ll see you there.

You can’t avoid it after all – I’m the impulse to express desire.

I’m there when you least expect it.