David
A feminine being of multicolored, physically altering form wanders into the hall of the gods, confused, and slightly dazed. The room would be swiftly and suddenly overcome by a powerful smell, both horrific and delightful (like that of cigarettes and candy, of weed and wine, of intoxication). Many eyes mold into existence from the surface of this female's form and gaze across the surfaces of the area, spotting more deities, more creatures of divine power, creatures that would surely know what this place was.

She takes a few minutes to gather herself, before asking no one in particular, in a quiet, slightly terrified manner, "Where am I?"
Christopher
The Hall of the gods had not been filled with this specific presence since the day of her birth. On the thirteenth of Mahlios, the blackened apple fruit birthed the entity known as Sinrael. Today she would revisit, knowing another new sibling of hers was wandering it's halls most likely alone. Black smoke began to roll underneath and inbetween the cracks and crevasses of the massive doors that led into the first hall, where the newborn deity stood. As the smoke rolled in, it twisted and slithered across the ground until it rose up a bit and began to fill the room though it was thin. Some of the smoke was more condensed, forming a humanoid shape behind the newborn deity who stood alone. 

The sound of a deep nasal inhale would come from just beside the newborn gods head, as if someone was smelling their hair or obtaining their scent. Once the scent was obtained, the smoke began to twist and turn into a humanoid form, floating in the air a bit and around the Godling. Her skin was pale and mostly covered, even the upper half of her face was covered by the large black hood and it's shadows that she wore. Her garb itself seemed to be made of the thickest of these black smokes with only her hands, a leg and her lower face exposed. 

Though her eyes were unseen, the Godling could very much see the wicked smile that spread from cheek to cheek full of razor teeth like a smiling crescent moon, resting on its side. The pale lips parted and her voice rang through for a moment. Soft and whispery with a touch of seduction or allure, but just as noticable was the raspy, coarse tones and cackles that followed her words. 

"You wreak of... Confusion... Interest... Is poor little baby all sorts of curious? Or is your location the only question you have? Welcome!" The woman's soft tone shifted into a shrill scream as she yelled welcome. "To the hall of the gods, of which... You are... So tell me... Who are you and what do you embody? What is your true... Core?"
David
The multicolored creature wreaking of an intoxicating scent physically recoils several times over the course of this woman's short, speech. With several eyes across her body locked onto the dark, sharp-toothed figure, all show both a mixture of curiosity and uncomfortability. 

Breathing in through her one-two... Now just one, mouth and releasing a heavy sigh, she speaks quietly, nervously. "I know not. My name. Nor. My duty. I know only my form. And even then. It is incomplete. It is unstable. It is... *Painful*. Do you know who I am?"

The body of this poor individual shivers aggressively for no apparent reason, and, in fact, most of her body appeared to shake and twitch with each word she spoke, and with each word that was spoken from others. Each second she existed was another second that her form was altering, that the pigment in her cheeks was turning more red, or turning into a vibrant blue, or that her arms molded into one another, or that they divided up into more, or that more eyes appeared. Her hair grew longer and shorter, her feet and legs changing into that of a different species by the moment, her pupils dilating and splitting, becoming unique and commonplace. Each second was a new change to herself, and with each new change she seemed ever the more uncomfortable.

The uncomfortable energy surrounding this girl multiplied the moment she finished speaking... It smells more of heavy red wine now.
Christopher
As the dark goddess watched the figure of ever changing colors and forms, she continued to inhale the emotions. A beautiful bouqet of confusion, conflict and concern in a sense. Curiosity kept creeping. The scent of uncomfortability hit Sinrael with an ecstatic reception. The scent of alcohol too, though Sinrael cared little for the physical scents, only for those of emotions and heart. With a swirl of her slender hand and it's daggery black nails, Sinrael conjured a bottle of something. 

"Try this... You smell like a distraught alcoholic. A miserable existance, a broken mind and a well kept desire to enjoy yourself... To relieve the pain and discomfort... Every addict has their crutch and every addict has their reasons... So try this, see if it helps you feel better. As to who you are..." The Fear-Mother looked over the newborn deity again and tilted her head. 

"You are whoever you wish to be... Outside of this Hall is a nearly infinite void... Go there when you wish. Make a realm, a demiplane, mortals and more! Do whatever your sins and innards desire! Wallow and revel in your wretchedness and wonderfulness! Flow with yourself... Let emotion reign..."
David
The feminine creature takes the bottle and looks it over, her hand solidifying in response to touching the bottle, though, only the part in contact. Twirling it around in her hand, the girl takes the bottle and, if there was a lid or cap, pops it off, taking to smelling its contents before anything.

Her mind ran rampant with thoughts, 'miserable?' 'distraught?' 'broken?' 'how curious...' formulating in her thoughts was a phrase that she tried to take a hold of, a name followed with it. Her form slowly solidified into something more humanoid as her imagination began to spark, sticking to six purple eyes, four on the face and two on the hands, four arms, and a white skin color with black spots and lines that seemed to morph and wave about her skin like waves slipping onto the beach, or like droplets of water striking the surface of a pond or puddle. Her hair lengthens, curling something most sinister, like a long, black thorn bush.

"What. Is this?" She asks as her body begins to take form, holding the bottle, trying to discern what exactly it is before herself.