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Current Novus date and time is

▶ Year || 503
▶ Season || Spring
▶ Temp || 43℉ (8℃) - 70℉ (21℃)
▶ Weather || The weather radar really does seem to be off the charts lately...
I wonder what's going on? (#15-19)


Character of the Season

Member of the Season

Thread of the Season
A land of absence
and root and stone

Pair of the Season
Bexley and Acton

Quote of the Season
"And all the while her mind, her blood, her fierce and fearless heart was singing, singing, singing." — Shrike in We're under attack!

see here for nominations


Night Court Commoner

The Character


▶ Age: 7 [Year 495 Summer]
▶ Gender: Female
▶ Pronouns: She/Her/Hers
▶ Orientation: Bisexual
▶ Breed: Kelpie
▶ Height: 16.3 hh
▶ Health: 11
▶ Attack: 9
▶ Experience: 10
▶ Signos: 20 (Donate)

▶ Joined: 06-06-2018
▶ Last Visit: 10-15-2018, 10:49 PM
▶ Total Posts: 12 (Find All Posts)
▶ Total Threads: 1 (Find All Threads)

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Wormlust is the darkest parts of the sea given flesh and bone and hunger. Her skin has been leached of all the bright colors she was once made of when she was the first of the winged ones. Now she's pale enough to be something more than bone-white. She looks gray enough to suggest that perhaps it's not blood that runs beneath her skin anymore. She could be a corpse for all the color that her skin has, even the sunlight seems to absorb into the paleness of her and leave only strange long shadows behind. Even the way that her legs seem to long and her body to thin is reminiscent of a beast marked for the grave.

Only the patches of blue hint that perhaps this nightmare is more than just a figment of imagination. The tips of her feathers are stained blue, dark blue, sea blue. The sea has leached some color into her (or perhaps she's leached something from the sea that it did not want to give). Every edge of her is stained blue, feathers, mane and tail. Even her hooves are a blue that almost might be called black. It looks as if she's taken the color of the ocean floor and painted herself with it when it dared to take every shred of immortal beauty from her figure.

And then there are the scales in that same dread- sea blue. They are thickest from her eyes to the hollows of her cheeks and from the underside of her neck to her thin shoulders. From there they lighten to no more than a dusting up her sides to finally fade out in the place where the bottom of her massive wings meet her shoulders.

Those scales are only lovely when she's in the sea. There they glitter like the scales of sea-snake. And when the light hits them just right that make a kaleidoscope of light that shifts like a clouds once did beneath her wings.

On land she is just a pale thing with wings too large to do anything but drag across the ground. She was created to live in the sky and never set hoof on the between. Even after all the universes and centuries she's spent on land the feeling of soil and rock beneath her still feels strange.

It's when she's in the sea that she's the most terrifying of hunters. In the waves it's easy to see what they have called her a kracken, a siren, the devour-er of mortals.

In the sea her wings fly through the currents. Her feathers turn to silk gossamer and it looks like a million, woven together fins hang from the bones of her wing span. She has no mermaid tail to help her in the sea and her legs run through the water like it's no more then cloud mist, soft and easy to cut through. It would be a grave mistake to call her a fish, a hippo-campus.

Wormlust is a monster and every inch of her lends a brutal truth to what the below has made of her.

Those sharp, predator teeth only promise death when she smiles.
predator/ wild/ blood-lust
survivalist/ savage/ of few words
strange/ god-complex/ clever

Many a weak animal has failed to understand the violence that lives in her blood, the way her body lives to feed and her belly seems like an abyss that no amount of muscle and fat might fill. Some thought that the trees might turn that great winged monster away. Other ocean-creatures though that perhaps caves of the beach might save them from that ravenous gnashing of her razor teeth.

But Wormlust when she hunts (which seems to be always) is relentless. One marked by that hawk-ish dark gaze of her, once she can imagine the sweetness of blood on her lips there is little that might make her stray from her hunt.

Lucky for her there are no bullets in Novus to turn her.

On land she is a strange, silent thing that keeps better in the mountains and the places left wild and uncivilized. There she blends in with the between and softens the edge of her hunger with smaller predators that mistake her for a mere pegasus that knew not how to fly with those weighty, massive wings of hers. They did not know she was the first of her kind, older than all the gods and worlds that hid in the dark spaces outside their atmosphere. The clever ones stayed far away when they looked and saw that she moved as no horse, no creature that lives does.

To mention the gods to Wormlust is to discover that such a near silent creature as she can look alive with scorn. Little does she believe in the gods, she who was made at the first of the worlds when gods were nothing but cells that had yet to discover magic and power. All the worlds she's been too had some sort of god and some of them became nothing more than a meal to her in the end.

She believes not in glory, magic and omnipotence.

Wormlust believes only in survival and the hunt. She believes as all the first ones did that her flesh is holy and as a sea-monster she is right to thrive on more than grass and water. Even her loss of immortality does little to hinder the wildness of her need.

But oft she does wonder-

--that perhaps devouring a god might return to her that old throb of immortality in her bones.
above, below & chaos

To understand we must go back-- back before gods were called gods and life was nothing more than a shifting cacophony of will and cells with no purpose. When there were no worlds but one and there was only above and below and nothing else.

Above was the sky, the stars, a hundred different moons that all orbited in chaotic patterns. Below was blackness that shifted with the orbits of the moons and devoured all the light of above. Below was an abyss, a sea of nothingness in which not a single cell could survive and grow and change into something that might be sentient.

In some religions that know enough of the before they say only a monster lived in that nothingness. A snake who tangled about himself and devoured his own tail when the light was not enough to stave off his endless hunger.

Then the moons started the collide, their chaos bringing order once all the dust dissipated down into the below. From the moons worlds were made and the cells became things that could talk and breathe and learn. They could only survive in the parts of the world that the above claimed.

All the creatures had wings large enough to blot out star-shine, moonshine and sunlight. They danced upon the sky, toiled in the current like hedonistic things. There were no rules to follow but the sting of their instincts and no food to eat but each other. The weaker of the winged creatures did not survive those times.

None of them knew how much time had passed, how many rotations this new world made. Time was nothing more than some weapon the future might create to tame them. Even the atmosphere could not hold these winged creatures and they often left the world to flit about the other universes that were created out of the chaos of what the world had once been.

Where there was one there now were many. And of the many few remember the first. Even the winged creatures forgot which of them was the first.

Everyone forgot but her.

between, below & avarice

From those first particles of the moons that dissolved into the below something new was made. The between rose out from that blackness. The cells of those moons were determined enough to not be dissolved and erased in the blackness. They found each other in the aftermath and gathered together into dirt and stone. Some of those cells turned to trees and grasses and flowers sharp enough to tear through flesh if a winged one was foolish enough to try to eat anything but another winged one.

Then there was one collection of cells that saw the winged ones and wanted to be more. They wanted to become hearts and flesh and minds that might learn. And so the unicorns were made and he was the first.

Of the unicorns his horn was the largest (the cells learned it was too hard to bear such a weighty thing on such a long legged creature). He was colored with hues from both the above and the below for the between cells were jealous things that had wanted to be the first.

They too had nothing to eat but each other. Nether the unicorns or the winged ones, who would be called pegasus in time found it easy to feed on other species. But some tried and succeeded and others failed in their attempts.

All this the below watched, in darkness. Nothing changed and became in that darkness and the below felt slighted. But it had will, a terrifying thing that will for it needed no cells to gather in the blackness to let it want and need.

Perhaps it was all the snake after all. Perhaps he was all that the nothingness was, the beast of the below, a being as god-like as the pegasus and the unicorn.

More moons collided and still nothing grew in the blackness no matter which piece the below claimed for itself. Greed festered in that blackness and some say that the darkness become darker and all the unicorns and winged ones knew to stay far, far away from the below.

In time that nothingness would become known as the sea.

below, creation & abominations

The first of the winged ones did not learn to fear the black sea, the nothing. What need did she have for fear? Worlds had formed beneath the shadows of her wings and trees sprouted before her abysmal grave. There was not a thing in all the worlds she has been to that might offer her a death. Nothing could un-knit the feathers and bones of her.

One day she dove low, low, low and touched her hooves to the waves of black. It felt like dancing upon death with feather silk draped upon her shoulders. Perhaps she thought to devour the snake they whispered of in the nothingness. Perhaps she grew tired of using the meat of her own kind to fill her belly.

She has forgotten why she ventured out of the sky to touch the blackness. It is the only thing that the first one has forgotten.

The below swallowed her for her foolish courage. It sucked her down into the deep, into a black so deep that she thought she had been unmade after all. But it was a jealous thing that darkness and so it took her cells and made her into something of both the above and the below. Feathers replaced with gossamer fins that rippled like silk in the blackness from the hollow bones of her wings. All her skin turned dark and gray and thin, thin, thin.

And so she was no longer just the first pegasus but the first creature of the sea. The first to live where only blackness once lived before. The first of both her kinds.

Later they would call her a kelpie, a monster of the deep that fed on flesh and sailors and dragged every species down into her watery graveyard.

universes & regret

The sea did not take her wings from her. A mistake that later the consciousness of the darkness would come to regret. She could both swim and fly and she hunted everything that came to be. Pegasus, unicorn and any mortal thing she came across fell before her massive wings and razor sharp teeth. Her hunger was endless and she traveled by sea or air to a thousand different universes to hunt.

Some worlds called her the flood, the great devour-er of life. Other's called her a siren, a harpy, a beast of the sea that dove around ships and dragged the crew overboard like mice. The survivors were few enough that men and wild four-legged things could never think to wholly describe her.

For eons she traveled between worlds, hunting when the hunger came and and exploring when it did not. Often the hunger came more and more and she lived for years feeling like a starving thing that no world or meal could satiate.

Eventually she wondered why she was the only one of her kind. Even the other creatures of the sea that came to be (even the horse-like ones) were something different than she. They were tamer, gentler even in their hunger. They did not feel as endless as her, as violent and instinctual. The other lived in herds and spoke the language of whatever world she found them on. None of them had wings and traveled between universes as she did.

None of them could not die.

Later she learned that the darkness, the below, the sea regretted making such a terrible thing as she. It needed things it could control, shape and make. It needed things that could reproduce and not devour their own young when the hunger came. She was too wild for the blackness, as unmanageable as the serpent that devoured its own tail over and over again.

Soon she learned to feed on the others they dared to call kelpies, as if they were the same sort of monster as she. Soon she learned to take for herself a name, a legend of a name as strange and wicked as she.

They began to call her Wormlust. The sea-worms began to follow her like disciples of the religion of her, feeding on the bits of muscle she left behind when she fed.

All the worlds told stories of her, warnings to their children to watch both the above and below for the reaper who would devour the entire world in a single breath. It was a name that belonged not to a mortal. It rang out like a nightmare on all the lips that dared speak it, like a eulogy on the lips that never spoke another thing after forming the sound of it.

Novus & shallow seas

Wormlust lost track of the worlds she hunted upon and what time she spent feasting. She traveled as predators are oft to. Migrations of her prey saw her come and go between worlds. Cravings sent to other worlds and took her from some when her prey became too evolved. She was ancient enough to hunt things that could not kill her easily, beasts that knew to fear the shadows made by her wings as she swooped down to grab their necks and spines and legs.

Men grew too clever and violent for her. They tried to pluck her from the sky with bullets and fire as she hunted them from their boats and mountainsides. She left man for easier game, larger game that might ebb the tides of her endless hunger for longer than man.

Through a thousand different religions she traveled and for each of those a world. Sometimes she traveled between the darker places of the below. Other times she flew out past the atmosphere and traveled by wormholes and stardust. She traveled until the day she slipped between the thick places of the nothingness and swam into the seas of Novus.

It was a surprise to learn to that her bones took their endlessness from the power of the sea. It was even more shocking to discover that the ocean of Novus was shallow enough to steal the immortality from her. Her perhaps there might be an end to the first, last and only one of her kind.

One thing Novus could not take from her was the hunger, it rages as it ever has. Stronger perhaps for the way her flesh needs more to live in this place.

And so she still hunts---
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▶ Player Name: nestle (Profile)
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▶ Other Accounts: nestle, Calliope, Isra, Veer,
A lazy writer