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Current

Current Novus date and time is

▶ Year || 502
▶ Season || Summer
▶ Temp || 74℉ (℃) - 100℉ (℃)
▶ Weather || With the end of Spring comes Summer's warm embrace. While some flourish in the comfortable glow of the sun, others take shelter from its sweltering midday heat. Even so, it is now that the continent bustles with life, for it won't be long until a cool chill returns.

Spotlight

Character of the Season
Avdotya

Member of the Season
Jeanne

Thread of the Season
.. Cool your fever ..

Pair of the Season
Ipomoea and Messalina

Quote of the Season
Bexley gives him a cold, dark, beautiful smile. “Wanna see a trick?” she asks, eyes glowing with feral self-satisfaction. The bare of her teeth in a mock-grin is nothing less than terrifying. “I can make you see ghosts.” do the hungry ever sleep?

see here for nominations


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Ipomoea
Dawn Court Regent


The Character


Offline

▶ Age: 4 [Year 497 Winter]
▶ Gender: Male [He/Him/His]
▶ Orientation: Bisexual
▶ Breed: Appaloosa x
▶ Height: 16.0 hh
▶ Health: 30
▶ Attack: 10
▶ Experience: 28
▶ Signos: 340 (Donate)

▶ Joined: 05-15-2017
▶ Last Visit: 7 hours ago
▶ Total Posts: 82 (Find All Posts)
▶ Total Threads: 11 (Find All Threads)

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Everything about him betrays his youth: as of yet he is still long and lanky, needing more time to grow into his own sin and fill out into the 16 hands he will eventually boast. The lack of experience carries into the very way in which he walks, excitedly hopping from one thing to the next depending on how his interest has been piqued.

Streamlined and inherently feminine, Ipomoea is colored boldly, a collision of creamy white on cherry bay. The subtle hint of red is exaggerated in him, creating a rosy blend of pinks dancing along his stomach and chest. He’s darkened at every corner, a smoky black covering his legs, shoulders, flanks and face in a mask that bleeds into his mane and tail. On top is a mottled white, stark at the center and frayed at the edges, blanketing the majority of his topline and each of his limbs.

I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us -- don't tell!
They'd banish -- you know!

How dreary to be somebody!
How public like a frog
To tell one's name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

- emily dickinson

Ipomoea is rarely seen dressed as a plain jane; he loves to accessorize, to decorate his body with intricate braids and jewelry and paints to accentuate his features. He’s a collector at heart, and his outfits certainly would show it. Most notably, his poll is nearly always decked in a crown of flowers. The flowers themselves vary, picked every other morning and woven together to form a tiara looping around his ears. A multitude of piercings line his features, from his ears to his brow to his nose.

His mane has been braided ever since it began to grow out, two plaits running horizontally to one another down the line of his crest. At the end they are knotted and the excess allowed to cascade down his withers in a long black wave, which can often be seen draped across his back for greater ease in traveling. Similarly, he keeps his tail cropped relatively short, rarely allowing it to venture far past his hocks. Most often it can be seen tied halfway down or fixed into a bun with gold colored band, the shortened length being easier to care for with how much traveling he plans to accomplish.

And finally, a tall steller’s jay can be found nearby him more often than not. Odet may be found nestled within Ipomoea’s flowers, braiding a new plait in his mane, perched upon his rump, or circling overhead—but he is never far from his companion.

It's no wonder that all of the movement and instability in his early years has given Ipomoea a bad case of wanderlust. His desire to know and understand more is like a bottomless pit, snatching him up and carrying him along in its current. He can't wait to see this and that and everything in between, yet at the same time he is torn by the need to take the time to study every finite detail in its intricacy. Any and all information is a goldmine to him: if he doesn't yet understand it, he wants to. He would happily spend his entire life gathering his own mental library, relying on word of mouth and his own observations. Above all others, history in particular has become his weak spot, stemming in part from a lack of his own. It has bred in him a need to weed out each forgotten kernel of antiquity from the new faces he meets, hanging onto every word of every story so that he might piece them all together in his mind into one grand masterpiece.

ENFP
extraversion | intuition | feeling | perception


Having been shuffled from place to place so many times in his short life, Ipomoea understands how to leave people and places behind. He's become accustomed to change and to travel, carrying only a scant few possessions which he is able to carry around with him. He's adept at cutting his ties, keeping only the memory of them once he's said and gone. Holding on to anything more than that would only cause unnecessary heartache, and the colt has already experienced enough of that as is.

Although that's not to say that he does not develop attachments; Po is unafraid to wear his emotions proudly on his sleeve, believing that to be up front about it is a shield in and of itself. There is very little about him that is stoic: everything is messy and unrefined, a wealth of emotions brimming just below the surface waiting to explode. He's far too interested in the potential connections he can explore between people and places and things to worry about being crafty about it; he would rather rely on his sheer curiosity and charm to get the information he so earnestly desires.

He doesn’t recall how he came to be wandering alone in the deserts of Solterra in the year 498, only the hot sun and sand bearing down on him from all around. He was found exhausted and dehydrated by a dune hermit, thus brought to a local ruler to be inspected. Being too young to be motherless, and being unable to say where he came from, a debate ensued: keep the boy and raise him to be a warrior, in the ways of Day Court, or send him on his way to become someone else's problem. They tried at first; passing him off to a middle-aged goldsmith who fashioned for him an assortment or piercings in an attempt to prepare him for his new, unforgiving world. He tried with poor results to teach him how to survive the desert, but in the end his poor adjustment to the dry heat decided for him. From that point on, Po would be destined to be homeless, never spending enough time in any one place.

“with my eyes closed this feels like home.“

Being too small and weak to travel on his own still, he was given to a group of traders who travelled between the four Courts. For a short time life was good: he was given plenty to eat and sweet milk flavored with honey to drink, and music and stories and games were abundant in the camps they made. They were a tight ragtag family who warmly welcomed him as their own, promising to allow him to travel with them for as long as he wanted or to take him somewhere he would be safe. But it was while traveling through the Veneror Peaks that Po fell sick. Due to the rough terrain they traveled, the group opted to leave him behind once again, tucking him into a bed of scarves and leaving a little food behind in hopes he would get well and catch up with them later.

It was here that a Night Court citizen found the foal, abandoned and alone. She brought him to her deities shrine, telling him stories of her Court which the traveling merchants had neglected, nursing him back to health. But being an outsider, she would not bring him back to her own lands; instead she stayed by his side and protected him from predators. It was she who gave him his name, Ipomoea, from the plants which helped to nurture and sustain him, and the morning glories she'd braid into his mane and tail. She watched from afar as a Dusk Court stallion found the colt and took him in, then left.




This stallion brought him to Terrastella, where a number of healers awaited. They brought him back to full health, shuffling him along between homes so that he was never alone, always having someone to care for him. Yet despite all this care, he couldn't help but feel out of place. The Dusk Court citizens were kind to a fault, but he could not fit in with them. And being shuffled between homes as often as he was, he never felt a part of any family. He'd often wander around alone, slipping away from whichever foster family he was with at the time to find peace in solitude. It was during one such adventure that he came upon a jay whose wing had become dislocated in a fall. At first the young bird was mistrustful of the much bigger colt, but Po was patient and persistent and admittedly a bit nagging, until finally he was able to get close to the creature. In the same manner others had cared for him, he took charge of the bird and nurtured him, forging an inseparable bond between the two kindred souls.

Indebted as he was to the Dusk Court for the kindness they'd shown him, Po began to feel stifled and grew restless. Nearly two years of being passed from one hand to the next had imprinted on him, and now more so than ever he felt a yearning to learn more about his heritage, his life before the deserts of Solterra. And it was so that he thanked his elders and, equipped with his various gifts and possessions from the strangers who had cared for him, that he left for the one Court he had yet to see, where he was confident he would find the answers to his many questions: Dawn.


Indebted as he was to the Dusk Court for the kindness they'd shown him, Po began to feel stifled and grew restless. Nearly two years of being passed from one hand to the next had imprinted on him, and now more so than ever he felt a yearning to learn more about his heritage, his life before the deserts of Solterra. And it was so that he thanked his elders and, equipped with his various gifts and possessions from the strangers who had cared for him, that he left for the one Court he had yet to see, where he was confident he would find the answers to his many questions: Dawn.

Active & Parvus Magic

NATURE WHISPERER
DISCIPULI.

Ipomoea possesses a heightened awareness of the plants and animals around him; from touch, he will receive an impression of where an animal has been or what it was doing immediately before interacting with him. With concentration, he can begin to understand their feelings and emotions. This information filters in incredibly slowly and with no definite rhyme or reason; Po must remain in contact with the subject and focus intently to understand any of their interaction. Doing so tires him out quickly and is apt to overwhelm him, leaving him reluctant to use this power frequently.


VEXILLUM.

The timespan he can “read” goes back farther, an hour or so at most. It makes a little more sense to him now, but Ipomoea holds no control over what information is given, be it in the form of emotions, thoughts, or memories. It remains a puzzle for him to sort through, which remains tiring and overwhelming if overused. He can best understand emotions, but memories and thoughts are especially challenging due to their more complex nature.


PERITI.

Through a short analysis, Ipomoea may now begin to sort through the memories and thoughts of the plantlife and creatures he interacts with. More often than not, he receives only a general imprint of the information; memories are fuzzy and thoughts are vague, but understandable. Interacting in this manner more than 2 or 3 times a day is likely to overwhelm him still, depending on the level of information he receives. Listening to plants comes more naturally, specifically his favorites: flowers. He appreciates the slower hum in their energy, their way of observing versus doing, the intricacies of their networks. Interacting with animals is far more likely to tire him out.


DOMINUS.

With merely the touch of a plant or animal, Ipomoea gains access to the thoughts, emotions, and memories of the subject. He is able to control what information he accesses, and is no longer overwhelmed by the influx of information. Their knowledge is his knowledge, and he communicates quite effectively in this manner. Plants are his specialty, but he can extend his gift to animals as well.

PARVUS MAGIC
When Po walks, nature is attacted to him. Plantlife seemingly leans towards him; a small dandelion (or other flowers) will bloom in Po's hoofprints. Wild fauna are more likely to show up when Po is around; he can often approach wild fauna without them immediately running away - they seem to have a heightened trust, although they will still dart away if startled or uncomfortable.




Passive Magic





Bonded

ODET THE STELLER’S JAY
A large songbird who oddly never seems to stray very far from Ipomoea's side, graceful and almost lazy in flight. Sleek black feathers coat his mantle and breast, leading up to a prominent feathery crest functioning primarily in display and expression. From the wings down he is covered with with dark silvery blue feathers, a long fanned tail and spindly legs to match. Noisy and interactive, he often brings the attention of other birds to himself and his companion. A small scar has turned a line of feathers above his left eye white.
steller's jay - odet - male





Armor, Outfit, and Accessories

OUTFIT
n/a
SENTIMENTALS
his piercings were forged by his foster family in Day Court, a talented goldsmith who sought to give him identity amongst the yellow sand dunes. A ring and a stud in one ear, a matching barbell on his brow, and another small ring and two studs on the corresponding nostril. From the Night Court citizen he was given his name and love of morning glories, and the gold band with which he ties his tail back. And finally from Dusk, he was given more or less his companion, who braids his hair and picks flowers and herbs for him.
(x1 accessory) golden facial piercings
(x1 accessory) band in his mane and tail
(x1 accessory) flower crown, picked daily




Agora Items & Awards



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Miscellaneous



The Player

▶ Player Name: sid (Profile)
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▶ Email: Send Email
▶ Other Accounts: sid, Aion, Thanatos, Toulouse,
ih-poh-meah
Ipomoea's Signature



  


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