About

A strange woman, who almost seems to float down the city streets and through alleyways, glittering in the low light, almost glowing in certain circumstances. Her words are always spoken gently and quietly - immediately recognizable at the edges of your comprehension, her touch just as light, a strong, floral perfume surrounding her at all times, wafting around her, remaining long after she has left. Other than her name, and where to find her, very little is actually known about her. And it’s hard to say whether she looks as though she is deep in thought, or just purely bored. Some love her on sight, some despise her on sight. Many people can only ever describe her as a “goddess”. They have no idea how accurate they actually are.

Wisteria has an unshakable ethereal quality to her, no matter where you might find her, even slouched on the couch covered in chips, if she were so inclined. She is very reserved, and speaks very little, preferring, instead, to listen. She often inquires after little things - small scars, mundane tattoos, small knicknacks or items of jewelry, seemingly very interested with stories and values of those around her. Children seem to especially love and adore her - often buzzing around her or giving her small gifts, which she usually keeps, provided they aren’t dirt or bugs. Her apartment is full of flowers and seems to be a little too expensive for a simple flower shop employee - perhaps that’s her secret? Many assume she must be a rich kid who has run away from home, or maybe even royalty - it must be something, right?

In truth, Wisteria is not as reserved as she initially seems, rather, her silence is more of a mark of her observation, than any deeper thought or meaning. Once she was pushed out of the realm of the gods, there was little to actually do on Earth, other than maybe become a forest witch, or haunt an abandoned cave… Her work as a goddess drew her towards the cities, however - walking amongst them, rather than floating above them - it was a jarring change, and she became curious about them, however, in a very detached, impersonal way. She did not feel any overwhelming amounts of affection or disdain for them - but the odd human would catch her eye, someone in a spot, or haunted by demons, who perhaps did not deserve them, and its not as though it were some herculean effort to correct these sorts of things. Unworshipped, however, she no longer felt obliged, and would only help those who she felt like helping. Living this fake life amongst mortals was strange, but - what else could she do? It was at the very least, fascinating to see how they treated the gifts of those from above.