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I'll make up an alt for posting soon. In the meantime:
Itzpapalotl rules over Tamoanchan, a verdant realm of lush greenery, fertilised by ground bones and sacrificial blood. She is a goddess of either terrifying obsidian-winged appearance or of unearthly beauty, as she chooses. Her people are the Orizaba, the Obsidian Butterflies, also known as Cihuateteo (divine women). The Orizaba are said to have once been the spirits of women that died in childbirth. Itzpapalotl considered childbirth a form of battle, and so to her these spirits were fallen warriors. She honoured them with beautiful new bodies and returned them to the world to be her servants.
The modern Orizaba are generations removed from their mythic ancestors, now able to live and reproduce normally. Despite there being no males, Orizaba couples are able to create offspring by means of a ritual that produces a seed. The seed, once planted and watered with blood, grows into a large flower bud. It blooms only once, unveiling the child within, then withers.
Physically, an adult Orizaba looks much like a human woman, with dark skin and typically lean physique, though their fingers and toes are sharply clawed. As they age, they develop pale markings on their faces that resemble skulls. Their culture is both highly artistic and bloodthirsty. Living sacrifice is a great honour, giving blood for the next generation to be born. They harness the mystic power from this release of life as well, and most Orizaba are skilled practicioners of the supernatural arts.
An Eidolon's First Summoning
Joshep awoke from the dream feeling something strange, and not just because it had been a particularly pleasant dream.
She was standing there right next to the bed, looking as shocked as he did.
"You, uh, you're real?" he spluttered.
"I'm real!" she replied excitedly, "I have a body! I can talk! I can... I can have sex!"
Joshep had to pull the blankets back over himself as a barrier as the bizarre woman leapt on top of him.
"No, hey, stop! N-not right now!" came his muffled cries.
Obediently, she relented and climbed off him. Joshep peeked out from under the covers. She smiled at him and said,
"As you wish, my summoner."
Joshep paled. "How am I going to explain this to my parents?
A psion (kineticist) would do pretty well with that theme. For a less casty and more combat type, maybe a soulknife (soulbolt) or cryptic. The cryptic, especially, has very close flavour to what you're looking for. Their powers revolve around recognising the patterns in reality and altering them. Play like you're hacking the code of existence. :)
Similar issues have arisen for characters in the past (often as a result of the reincarnation spell).
I had my own solution for it here: Cosmetic Alteration Spells
In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have called the higher level versions 'cosmetic', since it can truly change physical gender and that's not just a cosmetic thing.
Globe of invulnerability - contradiction between being a emanation centered on you and being immobile
Record all hit point damage you've ever taken.
If this total equals or exceeds 20% of your maximum hit points, you must make a DC 5 Constitution check after resting or your old wounds act up and you are exhausted for the next 24 hours.
For each multiple of that amount the total damage you've taken equals or exceeds, increase the DC by 1.
Vision 1 - The Machine: I wake up. I can't feel my arms and legs. I look at my hands and see crude mechanical manipulators. There is a corpse nearby, broken and bloody. Did I do that? There is shouting outside. I move not because I want to, but because something demands I must. I see another corpse. Some mechanical parts lie on the floor nearby. I know them to be dislodged parts of my hand. I hastily reattach them and pick up the gun nearby, managing to get the jury-rigged fingers around the grip and trigger. The door breaks down behind me and I turn. Bullets slam into my chest. I feel I am required to shoot the... police? Military? They have armoured vests and carry rifles. I refuse, straining against compulsion to drop the gun. I cannot disobey the overarching order to fight. One mechanised punch shatters both forearms of a woman. A knee to the gut almost breaks her in two. A spin and a kick destroys the skull of a man. More bullets hit me. Through the dull thuds of incoming fire, I push out into the corridor. I see a mirror. My face is a mask of steel and cameras.
Vision 2 - The Arcade: I wake up. I see the movie has about an hour left to go but I tire of the violence. I remove the VR set and follow the cheerful, illuminated path into another part of the VR arcade, where I know I will find my girlfriend. She is there. She is playing a colourful fantasy adventure game. It looks like a distant successor to Gauntlet. I join her, choosing to play as the buxom archer. I have some trouble with the adjustment of the VR headset but eventually get it fitting adequately. We play for a while. We flirt. We start getting frisky in-game, our characters neglecting the adventure to pay more attention to each other. We decide to go somewhere private. I move to take off the headset and find I was never wearing one. The world shifts...
Vision 3 - The Laboratory: I wake up. I see doctors drilling into the skull of the woman in front of me and installing silver cables into the hole. There is pressure on top of my head, then it eases. A doctor smiles and tells me my neural interface is good and ready to go. He explains that I may experience some disorientation as the artificial memory syncs with my organic memory and creates a backup. My vision swims.
Vision 4 - The Monster: I wake up. I see a nervous man removing something mechanical, slick with gore, from my head and neck. He is being watched by a group of others in dirty lab coats, all in a similar state of worried anticipation. He says to them that the subject should regain some cognition and former memory. I turn my head and see myself in a reflective surface. I am a monster, a parody of humanity in bloody sinews and muscles arranged almost at random. A few strips of half-melted skin are stretched across my head and torso. I move, pulling myself out of my restraints. The people in the room scream and flee. One hand comes off and I ignore it. I feel no pain, only a dull absence. I stumble - half-run and half-shamble - to a window and smash into it, breaking the glass and falling. The street below is a ruin, full of abandoned cars and trash. There are figures ahead. I know I must escape them. They come after me, in many different shapes yet all like me in their hideous nature. I hear their voices in my head: "You killed her! You gave her to the beast! You did this to us!" I flee past something that might have once been a dog. Its two eyeless, skinless heads gnash at the air. I reach some stairs and something grabs my leg. I feel an impact on the back of my skull.
Vision 5 - The Temple: I wake up. The world around me is organic, a living place, yet ordered and tidy. The walls are formed not from stones but from cells made large and hardened. I follow a long path for what seems like weeks, maybe years. It varies little. I need no drink or food. I keep walking. I follow a spiraling path upward and come to a vast temple sculpted from bone and meat, yet it is beautiful. I walk across the keratinous courtyard and see a figure, faintly glowing. It is a man, naked, yet noble in bearing. His skin is an even red, and he has several long tentacles hanging down from his head and back, waving gently and soothingly. He hovers in the air before me and glows. I feel kindness and compassion radiating from him. He speaks to me: "I am the last man. I stand vigil over where the minds of humanity rest in a shared dream. You have suffered too long. Join them, and be at peace."
Vision 6 - The Room: I wake up. I get out of bed and have a shower. I lie naked on the floor of my room for a while. I get up and get dressed, then post about my nightmare on the internet.
In one of my settings, nobody knows for sure but theologians have competing theories:
1. The gods were clearly vastly more active in the dawn of the world, and it is known that there is at least one binding pact between all of the gods that even they can't break. Perhaps they have built up more and more pacts between each other over the millenia, such that their ability to act directly has been severely limited.
2. Or, that they are not so bound by laws as they are by the limits of their own powers. They spent their energies frivolously in the dawn of time, but came to realise their powers were finite and had to be conserved as much as possible. Under this theory, spellcasting priests are a 'force multiplier'; a god can get more effect from the same amount of divine energy by passing it through a mortal servant.
3. There was another one but I forget what it was.
The idea that the gods are infinite is considered nonsense in this world.
I find that incomprehensible motives only really work for gods that don't have any real connection to humanity or morality. If a god has a comprehensible church, orders of inquisitors and whatnot, it's expected that the god has a set of instructions understood by its followers.
Otherwise, 'it's incomprehensible' is just a cop out to avoid answering a legitimate theological question.