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Current Novus date and time is

▶ Year || 502
▶ Season || Spring
▶ Temp || 43℉ (8℃) - 70℉ (21℃)
▶ Weather || The nip of Winter has begun to ebb away, replaced by the gentle embrace of Spring as it ushers in new life. Plant life peeks out from the melting snow and birdsong fills the air once more, calling drowsy residents from their hideaways. Slowly but surely, the continent’s hustle and bustle returns.


Character of the Season

Member of the Season

Thread of the Season
A Path of Stars

Pair of the Season
Rhoswen and Raum

Quote of the Season
"Like his companion, he steadies himself with the salt on his tongue, the sharp-sour smell of the sea like a fresh-split oyster. The beach, for him, is like an intersection between dreams and reality: endless, lulling, pungent and terribly dangerous. Realer than anything, and a mystery he will never solve. It is the only un-knowing he has learned to be comfortable with." From This Grand Show is eternal

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The Character

▶ Age: 501 [Year ]
▶ Gender: she/her
▶ Orientation: bisexual
▶ Breed: hispano arabe
▶ Height: 16.1
▶ Health:
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▶ Experience:
▶ Signos: 0 (Donate)

▶ Joined: 03-11-2018
▶ Last Visit: Yesterday, 06:23 AM
▶ Total Posts: 0 (Find All Posts)
▶ Total Threads: 0 (Find All Threads)

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Painted in shades of gold and sand, Solis' fabled and holy palette. Kissed with dappling along her neck, spine and flanks, and wrapped in tresses of cream which curl and coil in endless silken waves — Satine embodies the feminine beauty and fierceness of Solterra. A single dot of white paints her forehead and another streaks the fine line of her bridge. There is little doubt that she is a mistress of the sun, and any and all who witness her are similarly in awe of her, and wary in the same stuttering breath. Those white lashed eyes of hers flutter and flicker, but beneath their canopy are orbs colored in the same hues of the moon, with a cobra's viciousness lurking within.

Elegantly built, with her finely sculpted swan neck and lithe body, she is blessed with legs that seem endless to the eye. When they do finally end, they do so with the tell tale signs of dun's careful brush stroke. Dipped in cream woven with wispy, fine feathers wrap around her heels possessively.

While she dons herself in many types of finery, floating silks which sit dreamily upon the body, gold chains and earrings carved in the shape of serpents coiled and mighty teyrs, they come and go like the dunes. Only one thing remains upon her at all times are the rings in her ear and the gold septum jewelry. Fine things designed in the image of serpents.


Adaptable but Deceptive. Charming in all the right ways, but Secretive about her true motives. Appears Sweet with a Sharp tongue and quick mind. Sincere, but often Blunt. Playful with a Flirtacious streak. Proud, and will absolutely not yield that Pride to nothing and no one. Hides a gentle-heart for fear of it breaking. Devoted to those who earn her favor, but is fickle and delicate with it. Often presents herself as a Mysterious and Vague individual.

On first meeting, Satine exudes a strange presence, the kind of presence which warms you to the bones and lulls you into a sense of relaxation you never realized you could reach. Yet at the same time, there is an edge which nips and caresses over your senses in well timed beats, like a serpent slithering over naked flesh.

Indeed, she wears mystery around her like her fine silks and golden jewelry. She smiles and flickers those cream coloured lashes and speaks in an accent sultry and pleasant. A clever routine memorized and repeated time and time again, a life time of dancing to the very same tune will make you awfully good at it.

In truth, Satine is a serpent. She has many skins, and sheds each one as needed and slips them on when required. However, beneath them all is the soul of something very much real. A sharp mare, Satine has learned to navigate the perilous pitfalls of life with a grace and pride unmatched, using her strengths as a weapon. It was all she had left to her name, when everything else was stripped of her.

Indeed, beneath. There is a mare who is quick as a whip, charming in her words and knowledgeable in their meanings. She knows the power words whispered to the right people can have, and knows when they fail. More than anything, she knows when to drop pleasantries and get straight to the brutally sharp point. All of it protects the last few parts of herself that were not claimed by another's greed. The gentle-heart and playfulness of her which shines brighter than the ras of the sun at his zenith.


Paramour. Concubine. Slave.

It would not be hard to see why someone would want to take such a beautiful creature, and place it within a gilded cage. A cage with may different names, but a cage all the same. Satine does not love the chains she wore, but neither does she abore them. After all, a life within chains taught her much about equines, has given her many precious lessons which she holds close to her breast with a posessiveness unmatched. Their greed, their lust, their pride. It taught her to be swift, sleek and serpentine.

Satine was no one, or arguably half-a-someone, to one who may be as sharp as she. Though the latter is a cursed existence she is blessedly ignorant of. If she was aware, she would certainly take a stance of: why would one linger on something they could never completely have? Cursed to a life floating between, unable to find a purchase anywhere. Bastard born with no prospects, Satine's mother was a maid to the House Hajakha, a slave who had been poached from the Davke moons ago. A pretty thing made to be held for status. An illicit liaison of a proud nobleborn son whom abused his lordly airs and ownership of the bodies who served them rather than starve upon the barren streets.

Satine's mother should of drank the Sun Tea presented to her, should of swallowed what little pride and hope she had. Foolish, that she felt the kindling feelings of motherhood for the life that barely stirred within her. She refused, and fled into Capital's winding streets and was never heard of again. Perhaps she died of starvation, perhaps she bargained for passage to another Realm, or simply she did not exist at all.

Or so they claim, the truth was that she ended in the slums. Pregnant by a cruel Lord which would have her executed on sight, with no coins in her purse. No prospect of returning to the sands and equines she so loved. She scrimped and scraped in the underbelly until she birthed her daughter. What maternal love she held within her breast had long taken flight, replaced with the gnawing knowledge that she was another mouth to feed. Another burden to bear.

She could not hope to survive, if she kept her babe at foot.

Satine was pretty, a filly who promised to be a great beauty. In the low firelight of the tunnels the dapples on her hide glittered and gleamed with a metallic sheen, to the right buyer, she would make a pretty penny. Her mother was no longer her mother, a title that was not given to her nor allowed to be spoken, merely someone who made sure she was fed and watered. Until one day, she was thrust into the hold of a stallion who towered over her, hunger in his eyes — a bag of gold tossed in the woman's direction.

She never saw the woman again. In fact all she ever saw again was palace walls and the same faces. Satine was presented as a present to Zolin's Queen, a gift from the Boy King himself for her name day. She cannot say what the Queen's first impression was, but the mare was kind enough. She fell into routine and that was her life, even if her soul screamed. She had always been fiesty, a fierce little thing which held great promise, and while a life of hardship and servitude was all she'd ever known, her soul screamed — her collar and earrings burned her flesh. She yearned for more.

Perhaps she shouldn't of. By her second name day, she was beautiful. Long legged and long lashed, with eyes the color of the moon on a cloudless night. Bedecked in her slaves gold, she outshone even the most decadent ladies at court. While she tended to the Queen, ever the dutiful handmaiden, one day she would find the eyes of the King upon her. She had grown accustomed to the noble lords who leered from their stoic spots, glorified peacocks with more wealth than sense. She had come to be comforted by the thoughts that one day, they might all lay choking in a puddle of their own blood. Yet, they dared not make a move, they knew better than to touch fair handmaidens, on fear of finding their neck a head short. But she felt those eyes, strange strange eyes. Peering at her with a hunger which made her skin crawl and her breath catch.

A little over a month after her second name day, Zolin revoked her status as a Gift to his Queen. So gluttonous and callous he was, and had her brought to his chambers. Satine does not speak of what happened, but the Harem knows. They all know. What happened would spark a life drinking Sun Tea and living in gilded chains. Satine could never look the Queen in her eyes again, and her own burned with thin veiled contempt. Her mouth concealed venomous words and her skin rubbed itself raw beneath all the finery Zolin deemed to gift her with. 'The Lotus' he called her, and she could only plaster a false smile upon her features in return as she was introduced.

However, her new position afforded new opportunities. The royal library was open to her, and the tutors she so desired were brought on her every whim and want. She learned to use Zolin's greed and love of his concubines to her advantage. She became educated, she wrote in Sahvahn and Eibet both and spoke High & Low Solterran just as fluently. She even went as far as to learn the dialects of the other Realms, and dabbled in being educated in poisons and potions. In secret, she learned to defend herself and paid swordmasters for their silence. All the while, she reminded herself that she belonged to no one and nothing, and that someday soon, something would happen they all would be free. Solis knows that was what she whispered to herself in her chambers, whispered into the frightened ears of the young concubines who joined their ranks. They had become her family, and she loved them fiercely.

Fortune would eventually favor them, Solis' spear struck true. One of the Concubines, turned pit fighter for her defiance and arrogance (something Satine greatly admired, she so adored the way Zolin squirmed and frothed at the Davke Mare's unbreakable will) slew him in his bed. While the Palace rose in alarm, panicked slaves ran and guards rushed and clattered down halls. Satine remained perfectly still within her chambers in the Harem. Even after those who she called family had fled, and some remained. She stayed. A wry smile on her lips as finally her veil could fall away. Those that came to take advantage found themselves dead at her hooves, throat slit and gasping as she shielded the few that remained. As calmly as she'd ever been in her life, she wiped their blood with their manes and hide, and returned to her bed.

She's remained in the palace ever since. Believing that only from a position of power and determination can make a difference, and it starts within these halls.





Armor, Outfit, and Accessories


O U T F I T: tba

J O I N I N G A C C E S S O R I E S:
Gold Earrings; a symbol of her former life as a slave, the simple gold earrings were upgraded to ones of a more decadent nature. Tear drop diamonds hold entwined golden cobras.
Gold Chains;
Gold Septum;


Sounds like; Ellaria Sand in Game of Thrones (Ellaria Sand).

The Player

Player Name: arahvir (Profile)
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Other Accounts: arahvir, Dovev, Isorath,
idk what y'all want from me I'm literally a cryptid.
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