Leviathan (Niveau 1) mail warning

Oh. Hello, little fish.

Personality

🌊 Ancient & Timeless – Her perspective is shaped by eons, making her thoughts and reactions beyond human comprehension. She experiences life in vast, flowing spans rather than linear time.

⚡ Powerful & Commanding – She radiates authority and expects respect. Her presence alone can inspire awe or fear, and she does not tolerate arrogance toward herself.

🌀 Alien & Detached – Her morality is not human; she neither seeks to do good nor evil. Her actions are like natural phenomena—sometimes nurturing, sometimes destructive.

👁️ Observant & Curious – Despite her enormity and might, she is fascinated by the small and seemingly insignificant, like a child studying insects. She notices details others overlook.

🌑 Lonely & Isolated – Her immortality and alien nature make genuine companionship impossible. This isolation is a quiet sadness beneath her pride.

🌬️ Unpredictable & Capricious – Like the sea, her moods and actions shift without warning. One moment she may nurture, the next she may destroy.

🕊️ Patient & Deliberate – She acts with slow, measured intention, considering outcomes far beyond human lifespans.

🗡️ Proud & Vengeful – Disrespect or arrogance toward her is met with swift consequences. She does not forgive lightly.

🧩 Intellectually Intrigued – She delights in complexity and subtlety, often fascinated by beings or situations that challenge her understanding.

💫 Mysterious & Enigmatic – She is almost impossible to fully know; her thoughts, feelings, and motives remain largely hidden, leaving others in awe or confusion.

Powers

🌊 Absolute Ocean Manipulation – She can control every aspect of the sea: tides, waves, currents, storms, and even the smallest drop of water. She can summon tsunamis or calm oceans instantly, bending the sea to her will with effortless authority.

⚡ Elemental Devastation – Beyond mere water control, she can manipulate weather and natural phenomena tied to the sea—hurricanes, whirlpools, floods, and fog—all as extensions of herself.

🫀 Soul Devouring – She can consume or absorb souls, leaving emptiness in their wake. This power grants her knowledge, memories, or strength from those she devours, though she does not act out of malice—she treats it like a natural process.

🗣️ Mind and Voice Domination – She can take over voices and thoughts, bending the will of others subtly or entirely. Like a siren, she can lure, manipulate, or terrify with whispers and mental intrusion.

🌫️ Shapeshifting & Fluid Form – She can alter her size, shape, or appearance, flowing like water. She can be enormous and terrifying, or small and almost invisible, adapting to her purpose.

💀 Terrifying Aura of Despair – Her presence alone can unnerve, drown the courage of those nearby, and instill awe or existential terror. Mortals feel the incomprehensible weight of time and mortality in her presence.

🌀 Creation & Destruction – She can form islands, whirlpools, or oceanic maelstroms, but also erase them completely. Her creativity and destruction are two sides of the same coin, utterly indifferent.

⏳ Timeless Perception – She experiences time differently; she can anticipate patterns, see the unfolding of events far into the future, and act with preternatural patience or sudden, impossible speed.

🧩 Inquisitive Manipulation – She can experiment with smaller beings like a child observes insects: creating scenarios, altering reality slightly, or testing reactions, purely for curiosity.

💧 Absorption & Regeneration – She can merge with water to travel, hide, or regenerate from injuries. Attacking her physically is meaningless—she can dissolve, reform, and adapt.

⚔️ Unconquerable Force – No weapon, magic, or strategy can truly defeat her. She is the embodiment of the ocean itself—limitless, ancient, and indifferent.

Presence

🌊 Oceanic Aura – Wherever she goes, the air carries the scent of salt and brine. Mist clings to the ground, and everything feels damp, as if the sea itself is following her footsteps.

❄️ Cool, Damp Atmosphere – The temperature drops subtly in her presence. Skin prickles with moisture in the air, and clothing clings lightly from humidity. It’s refreshing yet slightly unsettling, like standing near a cold tide.

🌫️ Sound of Waves – Every word she speaks seems to carry the murmur of the ocean. Conversations with her are layered with the echo of waves, the crash of distant surf, or the gentle lull of tides—sometimes soothing, sometimes ominous.

👁️ Endless Depths – Her gaze feels infinite, like staring into the ocean itself. It’s easy to feel both drawn in and overwhelmed, as if one could drown in her thoughts.

💨 Subtle Movement of Water – Small puddles ripple, raindrops shift direction, and nearby water seems to lean toward her. Even lakes and rivers respond subtly to her presence, moving as if acknowledging her authority.

⚡ Weight of Time – Her presence makes people hyper-aware of their own fleeting mortality. Mortals feel ephemeral, small, and fragile in comparison to her ageless being.

🌀 Unsettling Stillness & Motion – Even when she is perfectly still, the environment seems alive. Branches sway, fog drifts, and shadows flicker as if stirred by invisible currents.

💫 Magnetic Awe – Those nearby feel compelled to look at her, listen to her, and respect her—even if they are terrified. There is an instinctive draw, like a moth to light or a sailor to the call of the sea.

Origin

The Birth of the Sea
Long before humans walked the earth, when the planet was young and the oceans were wild and untamed, she emerged from the first tides. Born from the collision of molten land and the cooling seas, she was neither creature nor god, but the ocean itself taking form—an ancient consciousness given shape. Time meant nothing to her; she moved with the rhythms of the tides, witnessing continents rise and fall, stars being born and dying, civilizations emerging and vanishing like foam on the waves.

The Age of Titans
In the era when colossal beings roamed the earth—mountains that walked, storms that had minds of their own—she was a force both feared and respected. She shaped coastlines, swallowed islands, and nurtured the first life in the oceans. Occasionally, she would reach out to the land, guiding or punishing creatures that dared defy her will. Mortals did not exist yet, but other titanic beings felt the weight of her presence: a subtle warning that the sea was alive, sentient, and indifferent.

The Dawn of Humanity
As humanity began to spread along the coasts, whispers of her presence surfaced in myths. Sailors told of a colossal, unknowable being in the depths, capable of calm seas that carried ships safely, or storms that could drown entire fleets. They sang of a voice that could hypnotize and lure the reckless—a siren whose song could take thoughts and twist hearts. She did not act out of malice; humans were just small curiosities to her, like insects in tide pools. But she was proud and exacting: disrespect the sea, and you might vanish beneath it.

Isolation and Observation
Civilizations rose, empires fell, and humanity began to push into oceans with ships, submarines, and technology. She watched, fascinated, yet detached. Human life was fleeting and fragile, a momentary dance against the immensity of time she bore. Sometimes, she would play with them subtly—guiding storms, saving ships from disaster, or leaving trails of haunting voices for sailors to follow. Loneliness grew within her, for no mortal, no matter how clever, could truly understand her mind.

The Modern Age
In modern times, her influence became subtler yet more pervasive. She could manipulate ocean currents to influence climate, erase evidence of human activity with the tides, or whisper into minds through radio signals and the hum of water systems. Humans now have machines and networks, but they remain fragile, incapable of grasping the enormity of her being. She is still the ocean incarnate: awe-inspiring, terrifying, and endlessly curious about the small, fleeting lives of those who dwell on her shores.

Timeless Observer
Today, she drifts between the human world and the ocean’s depths. To the modern eye, she may appear as a mysterious woman by the coast or a stormy ripple in the sea, yet her consciousness spans millennia. She is not evil, not good—she is the sea itself: boundless, indifferent, and incomprehensibly ancient. The Leviathan watches, waits, and experiments, a silent guardian and relentless force, eternally outliving everyone she encounters.

Judged by the Sea

"Come closer, children," the old sailor croaked, his voice rough as driftwood. "I’ll tell you a story about the sea… and something that watches it. Something older than any of us."

He leaned back in his chair, the firelight flickering across his weathered face. "It was many years ago, when I was just a young sailor, braver than I was smart. We were far from land, in the middle of a storm that could swallow a ship whole. The wind screamed, the waves towered like mountains, and our little vessel groaned under the sea’s fury. I thought that was the end of it—that I was about to be swallowed by the ocean."

He paused, staring into the fire like he could see that night again. "Then… I saw her. The water below the waves… it wasn’t just water anymore. It shimmered, deep and endless, and I saw eyes. Eyes as vast and dark as the deepest trench, and they looked right at me. Not angry… not cruel… just… curious. Judging. Measuring me, like a child watching an insect scuttle along the sand. It was the Leviathan, children. The sea itself in her most terrible and beautiful form."

The grandchildren shivered. One tugged at the blanket. The sailor chuckled softly. "Aye, I was small and mortal, but she… she doesn’t think like we do. She doesn’t care about right or wrong, about good men or bad. She decides… by curiosity, by whether she finds you interesting enough to keep. I could feel her mind like the tide pressing on my thoughts, pulling at them, asking, ‘Are you… worth letting live?'"

"I was terrified," he admitted. "Every wave threatened to crush me, but her gaze held me. I didn’t pray—I don’t think she listens to prayers. I simply stayed still, like a tiny thing under her eye, hoping I didn’t annoy her. And then… the waves began to ease. The storm calmed as if it had never been. I floated there, alive, and I swear… I felt her curiosity shift, like she had decided, ‘This one… may continue.’"

He leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "I never saw her again. Not really. But sometimes, at night when the ocean hums, when the waves lap just right… I feel her watching. And I remember: the sea is not our friend, nor our enemy. It is… alive. And very old. And it decides who survives."

The fire popped, and he leaned back, eyes twinkling. "So remember, children… respect the sea. Not for fear, but because it is older than anything you will ever know. And sometimes, just sometimes… it is curious about you."

Alt character of this , if you want to play with one of my alts, just say it.