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an equine & cervidae rpg
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  more than a warning [patrol]
Posted by: Ipomoea - 02-02-2020, 11:10 AM - Forum: Archives - Replies (6)




flowers grow back
even after they have been stepped on



It was spring.

Another season had come and gone. As Ipomoea lifts his head he can see new leaves budding in the treetops, decorating their skeletal branches with hints of green. He can still remember when the leaves had first begun to fall, and he had stood beneath them like they were his christening.

He has seen the leaves both slough away and return. And still, and still, the trees had not spoken to him.

And new blood still marked the trees in the morning.

Ipomoea considers the tree before him, with its bark marked with scars and eyes that left dark streaks against its pale trunk. All around him the trees seem to stare at him, and Ipomoea can begin to think of the other things they may have seen wandering through their groves. Even when he doesn’t want to imagine it, still he begs them to show him when he reaches out and skims his nose against the bark.

Of course, it doesn’t.

Once the trees had come alive at his touch, had never hesitated to tell him of all the things they had seen since last he asked. A wolf chasing a rabbit; a pair of laughing equines twined around one another; an old man sitting for hours between their upraised roots. Once they would have reached out eagerly for him, and whisper welcome home with their leaves. Ipomoea misses that - and as the silence stretches on he becomes more aware of how long it had been since they last embraced him like one of their own.

He moves on, but the next tree is no different. Or the next, or the next. All of them stare at him, and tremble at his touch. And he wants to believe he’s imagining it when the branches overhead seem to creak betrayer at his back.

If there wasn’t work to be done, a poacher to be found, a killer to stop, a forest of silent trees and a court of silent people to protect, he might have stayed until he had pressed his skin to the bark of every single tree in Viride and begged them for forgiveness (for a crime he does not remember committing). But after a half a dozen trees refuse to answer, the flower king admits defeat, and turns to leave the copse.

Only then does a shiver run down his spine, and Ipomoea thinks he may not be alone with the trees after all.



open to anyone.
"Speaking."

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  til we're legends
Posted by: Charlotte - 02-01-2020, 04:36 PM - Forum: Archives - Replies (10)

no guts, no glory—no legend, no story
Charlie lands among the bustling streets of Denocte, hooves scraping against the cobblestone. Firelight lashes the walls of buildings, chasing shadows across the ground. Her heart beats as wildly as the flames, and it burns and burns with something she has never felt before.

The young pegasus has been angry before, felt frustration. When the foals down at the docks had once told her she was too small to play their games. When she has spent so long at the training grounds attempting a throw Commander Marisol has taught her only to fail, and fail and fail again.

This is not anger.

This is oh, oh so much more.

She’d found out from lurking around the castle halls. Charlie is always in places she shouldn’t be, hearing things she probably shouldn’t be hearing. She hadn’t expected to hear about the poor Regent’s nearly one year old daughter, fatherless.

 Fatherless.

The girl picks up a stick and points it down at the road at she walks. The sound it makes grinds against all the things inside her she is too young to name, too young to understand. Charlie begins to trot, and then run, until it is practically a buzzing, drowning out everything else. Her eyes are burning embers, bright as the fires that light the darkened court.

When she reaches the markets she stops. There is a sound of something sharp against stone, and she knows Indy has landed next to her. The osprey looks at her bondmate with keen yellow eyes—Charlie doesn’t have to look to know she is preparing a lecture.

“Charlie,” the pegasus flicks an ear toward the bird of prey, as if she were actually speaking out loud, but she doesn’t look at her bonded. “Don’t you think it would be better if we went somewhere less crowded? Maybe you should be alone.” The girl rolls a shoulder and takes a few steps forward, glancing at the stands. The market is busy tonight. “No.”

She feels Indy perch upon her shoulders, a weight that normally would reassure her. “What if we go to the docks, maybe Anil is there. He always lets you onto his ship,” suggests the osprey. Charlie knows that Indy is trying to look out for her, in the way she always has; they are practically sisters after all.

But tonight she does not want to be alone. She has been on her own for so long, and she does not want to go to the docks. She has been filling her life with a pirate’s dream ever since she was just a newborn. Tonight, she wants to be this thing inside her that she cannot put words to.

That’s when she sees the scarves.

They’re lined up all nicely on the surface of the table, some hanging from a rack to better show off how they can be worn. Most of them are decorated in colorful, exotic patterns. But there is one, bright and vermillion. It catches her eye, because it is the exact color of her eyes.

Immediately, she knows she wants it. And she will have it. “Let's go,” Charlie begins to move deeper into the crowd, drifting between the legs of equines gathered at tables, standing and talking to one another, walking the market themselves.

Her gaze lands, almost fatefully, upon a guy pushing a large crate with a dog inside it. No… a two-headed dog. It must be young, because it barely occupies half of the space inside the crate, and is practically bouncing off the walls. Charlie smiles and alters her course just slightly, brushing past the guy and his young, canine charge. With one glance to tell her where they are, she reaches out and slides open the latches on the crate.

The next time the beast lurches against the inside, the door pops open and it tumbles against the street. She’s already moved beyond them when she hears the man’s exclamation, and other people’s sounds of shock and surprise. The bumbling man chasing around a much more agile, much younger animal, draws the attention of most of the equines in the immediate area. Even the merchants. A few gracious passersby even take time out of their night to try and corner down the pup.

Charlie, however, slips through the stream of equines headed toward the noise and commotion, but her course is in the direction of the stand with the scarves. It’s almost within reach, almost… at the last moment she spreads her wings, grabs the scarf and tucks it underneath the wing closest to the table. Then she is practically running.

Indy is forced to take to the air, following closely behind her bondmate as Charlie rounds the next corner and takes to a quieter street. Her heart is beating wildly still, burning but with something else entirely now.

"Speaking"
| @Aspara <3

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  red lips, french kiss
Posted by: Elena - 02-01-2020, 12:25 PM - Forum: Archives - Replies (9)

every day it feels like I’m holding back an ocean


She is strong.

She is strong because she came out of the pits with hellhounds nipping at her heels. She is strong because she learned inside of her there was fire, burning and bright, hot enough to leave charr and smoke in her wake. She is strong because she found it in herself to move past grief and find the love of a family once more. 

She is weak.

She is weak because she followed him, demanded to know what he was doing with her and when he said terrible things she never left, only hung onto him. Elena had needed no leash, she was not some dog to pulled around by a rope, but the end of it was held in her hand, just waiting for him to give it a tug. 

There is the smell of spring in the air. She almost instinctively turns to look for Lilli. It was almost uncanny. She smelled flowers, she looked for crimson. Lilli. The girls when they had been younger, had loved to explore the ancient valley of Paraiso looking for all types of flowers that it held. Elena loved her sunflowers, and in one particular area of their home, they grew tall and beautiful in a large cluster. Elena would let herself get lost in the rows and rows of flowers as the sun touched upon her back, making her shine as bright as the yellow petals. They were simpler times, when a flower blooming was enough for Elena to forget all her troubles. 

Spring had come to Novus. Elena could feel the sun was a little bit warmer, the sky a little more blue, and she felt a little bit happier. There was a sense that she was becoming more and more at home in Terrastella, the Dusk Court. But, despite this, Elena still feels the need to explore. She wants to see every inch that Novus has to offer her, resulting in her spending time away from Dusk, and typically at the ocean where she has found a certain ease at collecting her thoughts. 

Today Elena has traded the blue sea, for a sea of green, standing amongst the plains as the spring breeze teases through the blades. It finds her locks of gossamer and tangles through it before rolling upon her golden skin. Elena does something strange then, maybe something silly, but she takes off with a kick of her heels, running with a sort of reckless abandon she has not felt for some time. The breeze blows against her face and her creamy tresses stream out behind her like some sort of proud banner. It is only when her legs feel shaky and her breathing quickens that she comes to a halt, her thoughts far behind her, trying desperately to catch up. 

For now, Elena feels—peace.



* e l e n a
in the dark I’ll pray for the return of the light
the sunflower daughter of benjamin and beylani
medic of dusk.


@El Toro

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  We are free like lightning. [SADA]
Posted by: Ahote - 02-01-2020, 12:30 AM - Forum: Archives - Replies (2)

There he was, some kind of weird guy whose head must have been put on backwards, twitching and pacing and speaking in looping limerick’s on his way through the canyon.  How could Ahote ignore such a presence?  He was always such a curious child so it was only natural that he was now a curious teenager.  The Davke hovered in the wake of the madman’s footsteps, whether Sada knew to look behind him or not, Ahote could not tell.  The boy was an extra shadow, one that didn’t really belong.  His skin was orange and speckled black and white like the stones.  His shorn black hair was just another stripe to blend in with all the stone. Like a chameleon, he matched his surroundings well.  The canyon was his hunting grounds. 

Whether Sada was to be his prey or not, Ahote had not yet decided.  Whatever the man was carrying with him was enough for the Davke to risk getting caught stalking.  Or maybe, just maybe, the kid just wanted to find out if Sada would make great target practice with his slingshot.




@Sada  Why do I feel like this has a tendency to escalate quickly despite the brevity of it? 

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  Spooky Swampy Ladies
Posted by: Raglan - 01-29-2020, 03:36 PM - Forum: Archives - No Replies





Raglan

may the bridges i burn light the way


He didn’t know what he had been expecting. 

A swamp was a swamp was a swamp, he supposed, and as the rich mud sucked at pale hooves, Raglan felt a bit of regret at deciding to explore this particular region of Terrastella. While the sun was still low enough in the sky to be considered morning, the mahogany stallion had been tromping about the shaded expanse of the Tinea Swamp since just after dawn. A thick fog still clung to the lower reaches of the marsh and Raglan’s shoulders and back were damp with sweat — a definite perk in comparison to the frigid conditions closer to the perimeter of the territory. 

He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, or if anything could be found, but despite the bugs and the humidity, the child within him had to admit that the ugly slorping of the muck was entertaining. Nostrils flaring, the pegasus found that he was beginning to develop an understanding of how the swampy smell had been layered; there was new rot, old rot, moisture, gentle and pungent decay, mildew, and the sweet earthy aroma of mud mud mud. Even the murky water had a scent all it’s own, and Raglan wondered that if he spent enough time there amid the gnarled roots, whether he too would start to carry the smell in his skin. 

A gasp parted darkened lips as the horned stag pressed his hoof to what he had thought was a  patch of solid earth only to have the leg dip down into a shallow hole. Luckily, he was able to recover his balance and yanked the aforementioned limb from the muck without much consequence, but the Crow began to test surfaces before he stepped fully. Part of him wondered at the life that thrived even in the dead of winter — was it magic or was it just powerful nature? 

What else thrived in the marsh? 
Would they think he was tasty?

"Talk"





@Yana At last! For you my love<3

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  Call Me When You Get It
Posted by: Llewelyn - 01-29-2020, 11:35 AM - Forum: Archives - Replies (3)

bgcDlJ.png

 
If she wasn’t so concerned with recording the darker shades of Court mechanics and the little details that gave birth to immense consequences, Llewelyn surmised that she would have found fulfillment in becoming an art historian. 

The sun had fully risen by then, and golden fingers floated down from the heavenly plane to paint the granite and marble statue of a regal mare. In all honesty, Llewelyn wasn’t sure of the identity of the stone woman, but she struck an admirable figure nonetheless; arched neck, Roman nose, striking eyes that seemed to follow passerby despite the lifelessness of the material itself. Of course, there was a plaque set into the stone pedestal that the mare stood upon, but the words inscribed there had been washed away by time and the elements. 

Cocking her head to the side, the horned maiden admired how the sun cast the sculpture in gold, and how the placement of the towering granite likeness was lined up just so with the entrances and archways of the castle’s courtyard. If she narrowed her eyes and stared rather hard, Llewelyn could imagine the artist’s vision — a courtyard devoid of figures, hosting only ground level plant life and stout fountains, but ah! how a proud statue of our Blessed Lady of Something-or-Other would bring this place to life. 

She grinned, a small, demure thing, and shivered a bit as a winter breeze rolled over her back. Rather out of character for the courtier, Llewelyn had opted out of wearing her emerald cloak for the time being, deciding that the plush garment was in need of some new furs about the neck and a change of fastenings. Swishing her heavily braided and tressed tail, the lass turned her golden gaze to the earth and sighed at the sad little shrubs clustered there. 

The scholar knew it was childish to wish for Spring, but Oriens knew that she had been patient enough. 
 



@Sarkan — oof??? Im so choppy today!

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  lady i swear by all flowers
Posted by: Mesnyi - 01-28-2020, 12:12 AM - Forum: Archives - Replies (10)



Mesnyi
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom


I
n an unsurprising turn of events, Mesnyi returned to Delumine. She’d been back for some time, actually, but she’d dipped into the city for a bit of food and a new cloak, only to depart again into the wilds. Her feet kept her wandering, always, and after spending her time in the heart of the Night Court, she now sought only birdsong and dew.

It had been several days by now, and she was considering coming back to the city to laze about the court or go back to dancing. In Delumine, she had more friends - acquaintances - and wouldn’t need to worry so much about what she would need to trade for a roof. They would offer it to her, out of love or admiration or some other terrible thing, and so she could dance mostly for joy and only a little for money. That was the good thing she’d found about being a citizen of Delumine. There were, actually, advantages, and still nobody cared when she came and went. It was delightful (but not nearly so much as the road, surrounded by her brothers and sisters, no.) 

The cold was seeping into her bones these days; the ground and branches were bare. Her food hadn’t quite run low, but it would soon. It was time to go home. Picking her way through the brambles and branches, she was quite surprised to see another horse so far from the city. He was the color of winter itself, and even from a distance she could tell he was very, very tall. ”Good morning,” she called. Dawn lit the horizon like a fog, like a gray stallion astride the sun.


"speaks" | notes: ☽☼☾
rallidae

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  Boys Just Wanna Have Fun
Posted by: Raglan - 01-27-2020, 08:42 PM - Forum: Archives - Replies (1)





Raglan

may the bridges i burn light the way


The forest was deep, dark, and all things that could make an equine jump and exclaim “Oh, my!” 

As Raglan picked his way over gnarled roots and damp hollows, he felt his heart skip with excitement. The Crow had heard of some poacher in Terrastella’s borders, taking refuge in the woods and slaughtering non-equines then leaving their massacred bodies to rot until they were found. Part of him wondered how long it would take for the monster (if thats really what it was) to start in on the fairer shades of hooved mammal. 

A pleasurable shiver ran like an electric current beneath his skin, the fear rushing through and making him giddy. To be sure, the stallion was only tramping through the dim depths of the forest as a thrilling and coltish pastime, he had absolutely zero plan for confrontation if the Poacher decided to appear. Raglan guessed that he was strong enough to fend off most (maybe most) attackers; after all, time as a street urchin didn’t make for soft children, it made for bruised knuckles and bloody teeth. Yet, even with horns and wings and hooves, the Crow didn’t know just what he may have been up against, and that made both the excitement and the anxiety so much more intense. 

Smiling like a madman, the mahogany stag ducked beneath a low hanging branch and paused at the sound of a twig cracking. He tilted an ear to his left, grin growing ever wider, as his muscles coiled and adrenaline-laced sweat began to dampen his coat about the withers and sides. Was this it? Had he stumbled upon the feared and fabled Poacher? Would he perish? Would the notorious creature let him escape? 

He fought the half-hysterical giggle rising up in his throat like a wave and nearly choked on the effort. 

”Ohshitohshitohshitohshit...” Came the nervous whisper, words rapid fire and breathy with anticipation. 

This was it wasn’t it?

"Talk"





@Thana ... well, he’s dumber than I thought, but here you go. 

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  Meet Me at Midnight
Posted by: Raglan - 01-27-2020, 07:15 PM - Forum: Archives - No Replies





Raglan

may the bridges i burn light the way


He hoped she showed. 

Raglan’s experience with females that weren’t Crows or Bexley Briar was scarce to say the least, and although he sauntered and puffed his chest with the best of them, he knew next to nothing about making what Locke would call Lady Friends. So while the younger stallion couldn’t utter the phrase without a wink or a teasing grin, the Crow supposed that “Lady Friend” was the best descriptor of what he hoped Euphrosyne could become — she was definitely a lady and he’d like to be her friend. Breathing deep into his chest, the horned stallion  shifted his weight from left to right and glanced at the moon as if it would tell him how to sit still. 

When the pair had met, Euphrosyne had caught Raglan’s attention right away, even despite the second mare present. She had seemed so genuine, even when she had tried to brush him off, and he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t curious about how her second pair of wings affected the mechanics of flying. Of course, the sunset maiden was also beautiful, but Raglan supposed that was rather low on his reasons for interest; Terrastella, let alone all of Novus, had no shortage of beautiful women, and shockingly pretty equines were almost happenstance now. 

He supposed it was something in the water, but he couldn’t be sure. 

No, Euphrosyne wasn’t just a pretty face, she was someone who had experienced emotion in it’s rawest and life in its greatest — or maybe that was just Raglan’s own hopes rubbing off on a stranger. Was that rude of him? To assume that she really was just as interesting as he thought she was after only a few moments of interaction? He bobbed his head in a show of agitation; the horned lad knew that he would think well of her no matter how much or how little of life’s dramatics she had seen, but he hadn’t considered... well, anything about how to find that out. 

With the Crows, with Reichenbach, with Bexley, it had all been so natural, like family. Even Locke and Reinhart were essentially permanent fixtures in his heart now, so familiar were the sounds of their voices and the scents of their skin. How was he supposed to categorize and figure out what sort of friend he could be to Euphrosyne if he didn’t even know how to talk to her? He sucked in another nervous breath. 

Gods, he had really screwed this up. 
Either that, or he was about to. 

Closing silvery eyes, Raglan focused on the muffled sounds of the nearby city and the shushing of grasses against his legs. He could say that he had chosen the field for it’s ambiance and the beauty that it held during nightfall, it wouldn’t be false; but the real reason that he had asked the mare to meet him outside Terrastella’s gates was that being in a city at night still made him nervous. He didn’t know how to function in any township where the Crows didn’t exist, where he was alone and unknown and exposed. 

So he stood there, soaking up the soothing aura of nightfall and hoping that this kind, careful, intriguing girl would decide he was worth her time. 

"Talk"





@Euphrosyne SO THIS IS A MESS BUT IM HAVING A LOT OF FUN ALREADY 

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  EVENT poachers on the loose!
Posted by: Ipomoea - 01-27-2020, 04:36 PM - Forum: Archives - No Replies




T
here is a poacher on the loose in Viride.

Perhaps there are several, perhaps they form an organization or are each acting rogue, for now what we know is this: kill pits, traps, and animal remains have been found scattered throughout much of the forest. Viride is home to many magical and fantastic creatures, and it appears the killers are targeting these beasts. We need your help to catch them.

If you're interested in playing a poacher or a victim, please contact me! In addition if you have any plot ideas re. this, please do not hesitate to reach out!



~~~~~~~~~~~~




Citizens of the Dawn Court! This is an official message from your Sovereign, @ipomoea, and Emissary, @Emersyn! The official meeting thread can be found here; your characters are free to branch into private threads to participate!

This is being treated as an IC event. Any threads that are marked with [patrol] in the thread title are eligible to claim IC event participation EXP! The following bonuses can be redeemed for this event:

  • Start a new thread in Viride Forest: +50 signos. Can be claimed three times, for a max of three started threads.
  • Reply to a new thread started in Viride: +20 signos. Can be claimed three times, for a max of three new replies.
  • Complete a thread in Viride: +2 EXP as participation in an IC event. Can be claimed once.

ALL new threads must have been made on or after 12/23 to count for any of these bonuses! Replies must have been made in threads that were made on or after this date, as well. There is no end yet.

To redeem any of these incentives, simply reply to this thread! Please specify what you are redeeming, the reward, and provide proof in the form of links.

*Any threads in Viride made on or after 12/23.

**In addition to earning these bonuses, threads may qualify for special RE replies.... c; If you wish to not receive an RE, simply state so at the bottom of your beginning post.



Stay tuned!



Contact @sid or @Sea if you have any questions!

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