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Current Novus date and time is

▶ Year || 502
▶ Season || Winter
▶ Temp || -10℉ (-23℃) to 55℉ (12℃)
▶ 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
your company's fine but i get on better with mine

Pair of the Season
Somnus and Eulalie

Quote of the Season
"She remembers too well what it means to be free, to take her own fate from the dark places between the stars." — Calliope in Thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.

see here for nominations


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El Toro, Pavetta

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gather 'round
Forum: The Dawn Court
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caught like a rabbit
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love is a snowmobile raci...
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home I want to get this r...
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6 hours ago
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the ghosts of right now;
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9 hours ago
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Forum: Mors Desert
Last Post: Eik
11 hours ago
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A Mutual Understanding
Forum: Praistigia Cliffs
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Today, 05:19 AM
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everything will fall in l...
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warning of winter
Forum: The Dawn Court
Last Post: Pavetta
09-23-2018, 06:55 PM
» Replies: 2
» Views: 116

  A Mutual Understanding
Posted by: Israfel - Today, 05:19 AM - Forum: Praistigia Cliffs - No Replies


The world had gone to shit. Between the wildfires of Delumine and the southern floods or the rumors of a freakish snowstorm in the desert to the north-east, it seemed as though the entire world had lost its mind. Was it winter? Was it spring? No one really knew anymore, despite the sages insisting that it was, by right, winter. Israfel thought it was a load of shit. Nothing made sense, and it was becoming far too much to handle.
Round and around we go, a dark little voice whispered in her head, dangerous and foreboding, Where do we stop? No one knows.
A moment. That was all she had needed. A single moment. A desperately snatched afternoon of solitary respite, secluded out among the Praistigia Cliffs. Solaris lingered upon her shoulders, the massive ivory and gold phoenix roosting with her eyes shut. It appeared as though she were napping, but the Sun Daughter knew better. Resting, yes. Asleep? No.
Clouds loomed and lingered overhead, the afternoon sky a dark and depressing collection of inky black storm clouds that promised more rain. She was so, so tired of rain… The grass beneath golden hooves lay flat and lackluster like a matted rug, the soil squishy and sodden. Everything was saturated in rain water, and in turn, everything felt far too damp to be comfortable. Terrastella had seemed to reshape overnight, the familiar landscape becoming a scraggly graveyard for the land they had once known, a burial ground for those that they could not save.
When would it stop? It needed to stop. They could not survive this perpetual rainfall, freezing and terrible. They were all exhausted and waterlogged, weakened from weeks of unrelenting flood and rainfall alike.
Vermilion eyes lifted upwards towards the dark, billowing clouds overhead. Slowly her wings outstretched, the tips of her feathers spreading outwards, reaching, reaching. A cold breeze buffeted against the Warden’s damp body, frigid and unwelcome, seeming to inch and coil beneath muscle and settle within her very bones. Israfel’s eyes narrowed, her lips twitched downwards, and a sharp inhalation was the world’s only warning before she shouted, deep and valiant and desperate, teeth bared against the white-capped ocean tops and the endless horizon stretching out before her, “STOP!”
Stop the rain. Stop the floods. Stop it. Stop it. STOP IT.
Yet the breeze remained. The clouds still churned within the sky. Here, in this world, in this life, she held no dominion. Despite the blood of Gods and Saints that still filled her veins, mighty and mysterious though they may have been, her powers had still forsaken her. Without them, she had begun to rely upon brute strength alone… But brute strength alone would not help the citizens she had sworn to protect. How many rulers had she seen now, in that life and this one?
Mirage. Rannveig, Florentine, Asterion.
How many Gods, full or half, had she seen, in that life and this one?
Sun, Earth, Moon, Time. Mesec, Hototo, Roskuld. Had any come after her death? And the ones here, the Gods of Novus; Vespera, Caligo, Oriens, Solis, and their mighty Father, Tempus.
To whom did she owe her communion? Her conviction? Her loyalty? Why did she owe them anything, when it was they who fought for their very lives, every day against the storms?
Sacrilegious thoughts, indeed. Blasphemous… Yet Israfel’s only God had been silent. The proof of his existence gone without a trace. She mourned, she cried, and she prayed, yet no answers came. And thus, she was on her own.
’Peace,’ Solaris stated, large violet eyes sliding open to gaze passively upon her conflicted bonded, ’Your mind is running far too fast. Calm your heart, child. Peace.’
If only Israfel knew the true meaning of the word, or how to achieve it.
x - x

@Pavetta <3 I meant for this to be shorter but she kinda caught the emotions.

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  Year 502 Winter - Spotlight Nominations!
Posted by: inkbone - 09-22-2018, 11:23 PM - Forum: Announcements - Replies (1)


Year 502 Winter is almost over - and that means Spotlight Announcements are right around the corner!
We're looking at YOU guys to give us the nominations on who you think would be the best for the following categories:

CHARACTER of the Season
Raymond, who won Character OTS for 502 Fall, is not available for nomination!

Current nominations: 

PAIR of the Season
Somnus&Eulalie, who won Pair OTS for 502 Fall, cannot be nominated!

Current nominations:

THREAD of the Season

Thread must have been made or posted in during Fall (07/01-09/30)!

Current nominations: A land of absence and root and stone

MEMBER of the Season
Sid, who won Player OTS for 502 Fall, isn't available for nomination!

Current nominations:

QUOTE of the Season

Quote must come from a post made during Fall (07/01-09/30)!

Current nominations include...

  • Winners will receive 100 signos and be highlighted in our Spotlight section!

  • NEW! The (first) person to nominate a Spotlight winner will also receive 100 signos!

  • Post the below form in a reply to this thread, or message staff directly if you'd like to stay anonymous.

  • You may nominate for 1, 2, 3, or all categories - and may make multiple nominations per category!

  • You can nominate those already listed under current nominations, but be aware that multiple votes won't increase their chances of winning! Please try and suggest someone different, if you're able to!

  • We know it's tempting (and many of you deserve the recognition!), but please don't nominate yourself!

  • Players/Characters who won the Year 502 Fall Spotlights cannot be nominated this time around. This doesn't apply to those who were nominated last time but not chosen. They may be nominated again!

<div class="tcat"><font style="font-size:20px; font-weight:bold;">Spotlight Nomination!</font></div>

<b>Show us</b>: <a href="">LINK</a> TO THE CHARACTER(s), THREAD, OR MEMBER


Staff will make the final vote and decide which of the nominees for each category is the best fit!

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  cold be travelers far from home,
Posted by: Jahin - 09-22-2018, 09:49 PM - Forum: Arma Mountains - No Replies

J A H I N - - -

He's moody and irritable. 

Makeda's sudden appearance into the world of living had left him reeling, spinning. Everything is changed now and it's left him in a sad state of paralysis; unable to move forward with his life.

He's not entirely sure what he should be feeling. Betrayal? Relief? Anger? He believed her dead and she had let him believe it for years. What kind of a person does that? 

A Davke woman, of course he thinks in a tired, resigned sort of way. And why would he assume that Makeda would act any differently when she had always done what she wanted, what was best for her? 

He's tired of the snow, tired of the cold. That's what he tells himself as he leaves the borders of Solterra behind, but in his heart he knows it's a lie. He cannot be near her, not now. Now who's more a woman? he scoffs at himself and his need for "space". He should be hardened and calloused, as Davke life had fashioned him to be. 

But he goes anyway, not wanting to face her stirking violet eyes and demure lips. He can't. Not again. Not when he had let her go, had finally moved on. But had he really moved on? He couldn't honestly say but it was certainly a nice thought.

And so he fulfills the need to be somewhere he's never been before. He finds himself climbing in the mountains, sweat lathering his skin even though it is the dead of winter. He's no longer sure if he's in Solterra or Denocte, and finds he doesn't care, even though he's never stepped hoof outside of Solterra before. Up here the air is cold and clear and he can breathe more freely.

these scars long have yearned for your tender caress
to bind our fortunes, damn what the stars own ---


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Posted by: Katniss - 09-22-2018, 11:44 AM - Forum: Pending - No Replies

Character Application

Player: Zombie
Referred By: No one
Characters: http://novus-rpg.net/member.php?action=profile&uid=818
Are all characters active? Yes
When was your last character approved? 9/08/18...exactly 2 weeks
Have you filled out the "OOC Account ID" Field? Yes

Name: Katniss
Age: 10
Birth season: Summer
Court: Night
Rank: Warrior

Health: 10
Attack: 10

Items: Plated Armor
Item Explanation: Katniss does have a set of plated armor that she wears into battle. It’s lightweight, but strong. It includes a headpiece that covers the bridge of her nose and her forehead, a breastplate, armor plates along the top and bottom of her neck, and armor plates that run along her back and over her hips.
Incentives: one restricted item per new character :)
Other: She's my favorite :D


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Posted by: El Toro - 09-20-2018, 09:45 PM - Forum: Arma Mountains - No Replies

“Ah, shit.”

He was back in the mountains again. Not intentionally, no, never again, but by some glitch in his guidance system that sent him wandering off to the places he never wanted to go.

But where did he want to go?

Nowhere could make him happy. Nowhere would make him happy. He was always either judged by ten thousand eyes and then some, or alone. He didn’t want to be alone. He did. But didn’t. It was safe from the outside but so so dangerous inside. When he wasn’t alone it was dangerous inside and outside. No winning.

He kept walking. Always walking, always climbing, always pushing forward where there was everywhere to go and everywhere to go back to. There was never nowhere before or behind him.
Unless he died.
He looked over the ledge.
Nope. Not today.

His limbs trembled and stomach churned after that peek at death. He escaped into a rounded indent in the stones, like a shrine carved into a mountainside. No shrine-god waited for him there, he was certain.


"What I say,"

What I think,

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  To Miss Tonnerre,
Posted by: Eik - 09-20-2018, 08:48 PM - Forum: The Night Court - Replies (1)

He does not think of anything but the flight. (Three flaps, then glide. Three flaps, then glide.) The sad man had chosen him to fly, not to think. 

So he flies. 

The eerie cold of Solterra persists until the Armas, where it suddenly becomes a normal cold, the plain old chill of altitude. The little crow could not say how he knows the difference- it is just something you feel in your feathers. He looks around with his one good eye, careful to avoid ravens and hawks and the like-- everyone knows they are particularly troublesome here. But it is a quiet evening and everyone seems too busy hunting or socializing to bother the messenger.

Once he's over the mountains, it is a straight shot to the court. Usually he goes directly to the rookery, but this time is different. This time he is to go to the library, and look for a very distinctive lady. His client had the most remarkable gift of showing him an image, in his head, of the woman. When he finds her, in the library as expected, he is disappointed that she is not quite as beautiful as he was expecting. But he knows all too well that boys sending letters (particularly the ones who send flowers as well) to beautiful women are typically not fully grounded in reality.

He sits on the windowsill and squawks loudly, first to get her attention and then to tell her of his journey in a language she won't understand. He tells her of the man with sad eyes who sent him. He doesn't get chosen as a messenger very often, you know, because of his missing eye and mangled feathers and all that, whatever, but the sad man must be a smart man too, because he looked the little crow in the eye and he just knew that this, this was a fellow who would get the job done! And here he is, despite the downright creepy weather, really once in a lifetime stuff, and--

the mare clearly doesn't understand him so he stops, disappointed, and hops to a large wooden table where he unties the letter from his leg. It had not been properly sealed (the crow tuts, finds this insulting) and it uncurls neatly as soon as it is untied. He looks at the scrap of paper, ruffles his feathers (a few fall out, he can never seem to keep them) and watches the woman read. He's hungry, and rather upset that he flew all this way for this-

Moira T,

The jasmine has stopped blooming here, but I still close my eyes and try to remember how it smells. I don't think it helps me sleep but it reminds me of you. 

Please let me know you are alive and well. The world would seem much darker without you in it.

I would like to see you again.


@Moira <3 long overdue! He... he gave up trying to spell Tonnerre x'D

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  never told no one but we look so cute
Posted by: Theodosia - 09-15-2018, 10:28 PM - Forum: The Night Court - No Replies

She is tired

It is as bone-deep as the cough that rattles her chest, no longer able to be ignored with their people safely nestled within the walls of Denocte, without the guise of duty to keep her on her feet and constantly moving. It is with quiet solemnity that she weaves through the few equines still scattered throughout the Night Court streets, offering a weary smile to those who glance her way but never pausing, never offering the chance to be waylaid. 

She aches for company, for the brush of skin-on-skin to remind her that they are alive and safe now, and damn any sort of propriety that says she shouldn’t, that it is some sort of bad idea to seek comfort from the only person she wants it from -- the only person as war-torn as she is, who understands the continuous ache in her soul for their people and for their Court.

“Commander,” Her voice is hoarse from coughing, from shouting orders and cursing every single God she knows, and yet it is still so soft as it cradles the name on her tongue when she finds the mare alone. She doesn’t pause, only presses herself close, one wing slinging over Marisol’s back and her forehead glued to the other mare’s cheek, drinking in the strength the commander has always exuded while offering what’s left of her own.



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Posted by: El Toro - 09-14-2018, 07:53 PM - Forum: Mors Desert - Replies (1)


He was back in the desert. The homogeneous expanse of solid white laid out before him; a sheet of something he could get lost in. He shivered. Quickly El Toro had fled the city; there were too many eyes that traveled along his fresh scar and his jewelry and his horns, too many ears that swiveled at the wheeze; his lips were too brittle to raise at every comment or side-eye, real or imagined. It was too much like home. Out here, there was nothing; nothing but the vague memory of a mare who must’ve laughed at him getting lost for no reason, because he could, because he was angry. He was always angry, except when he was tired, and in this particular moment he wavered on some border between the two. He wanted to get lost again, knew he shouldn’t, though the walls were at his back and he could turn tail if he thought he’d die out here. 

Two tails swished against the cold. He stepped forward. It was a tiny moment, largely irrelevant to anyone or anything around, but in some way it felt enormous and heavy and like there was something waiting, just right out there, if only he’d take a few more steps out. If only he’d disappear into the white. For what it was worth, he tried.

@Eik beats

"What I say,"

What I think,

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  there was a time when i was alone
Posted by: Sloane - 09-13-2018, 10:37 PM - Forum: Sideralis Prairie - Replies (1)

It is her curiosity about this new land that brings her out from the shadows of the Dawn Court. In fact, she’s not even sure what ‘The Dawn Court’ means. She has no loyalties to anyone, no one to pledge her allegiance to. She came here and was pointed in that direction – plain and simple. She didn’t seek out that place intentionally and she chooses not to stay there long. She chooses to meander and explore, something the young mare has done all too well. She knows loneliness. She knows what’s it’s like to survive on one’s own and it is a life she embraces.

And so, the mare wanders.

Her travels take her here and there, everywhere and yet nowhere. She finds herself in the most disgusting prairie. The hills are rolling, the flowers blooming, and there’s not a damn tree in sight. She prefers the shadows, it’s where she feels the most safe. And yet here she finds herself in a while open area and the thought that someone might be watching her is not lost on her. She can smell others and she knows she’s the intruder here. Briefly she wonders if this land is accepting of strangers, or if she is immediately defined as a threat. While she might not be a warrior seeking to take her claim on this area, she can’t deny her lust after knowledge.

She stands in the middle of the prairie, her eyes looking up to the sun. The clouds are rolling above her and she can feel the afternoon heat baking against her black hide. She feels exposed, open and exposed. And there’s a feeling she cannot shake. Someone is watching her. Someone is staring at her, waiting to make their move. She can feel their eyes on her, their breath on her skin. Perhaps it’s just the wind. “Who’s there?” When Sloane asks the question, she expects and answer.

She halts, her body language relaxed and yet, she can feel the muscles of her legs at the ready. She is not here to ruin her hide with a fight. She’s more of a flight risk than anything. Scars were unbecoming. “Show your face.” Her confidence exudes her and her eyes scan the horizon looking for the one who watches her. She is not afraid and her voice shows that. She hates people who stare and say nothing. Then again, she’s really that same type of individual. Perhaps she is the only exception to her hate.

@Isra or @Calliope

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  Logs || Sloane
Posted by: Sloane - 09-13-2018, 04:46 PM - Forum: Logs - No Replies

SLOANE's Experience Tracker

Base Experience: 10 EXP ---- Experience Gained: +[__] EXP

 ---- Total Experience: [__] EXP / 100 EXP Max

Power-related: +[__] EXP Total

Healing-related: +[__] EXP Total

Craftsmanship-related: +[__] EXP Total

Learning & Knowledge-related: +[__] EXP Total

Stealth-related: +[__] EXP Total

Pregnancy or Birth-related: +[__] EXP Total

Item-related: +[__] EXP Total

Miscellaneous or OOC-related: +[__] EXP Total

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