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Kasil
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#1

KASIL


He had put a man to death once.

He had not intended that outcome-- just a child in the eyes of society, but Ivanskir had seen to it that his grandson's order was upheld. A thief, and a repetitive one. The Mark of Sin had been prominent on his chest and he had defiantly looked into the eyes of the law without a care in the world. Kasil could still see those eyes in his dreams at night, glaring harshly down at him as if to blame him for his untimely death. His grandfather had called him out from the sideline of the court, his yearling fuzz just beginning to shed into the sleek sheen of adulthood -- and asked Kasil what he thought should be done in accordance with their laws.

This man, he explained, had been caught three times for stealing from his fellow court members and justice had yet to be determined. The boy had considered all that he had learned at the heel of his grandfather and of that which he had learned in the sage's libraries. When he opened his mouth and recited the correct answer, it was as swift as anything he had ever seen. One moment he was a timid voice, urged to speak and the next there was a great howling as the thief was dragged from the court in chains. Later, he would be forced to attend the execution and meet the eyes of a child no older than he, the daughter of the thief that he had been stealing to provide for.

Her face stood out to him even now, in his memory.

A snapping branch, caught his mind in a way that forced him to let go of that memory. The King of Delumine turned his head slowly, the golden diadem glinting in the light that could barely seep through the leaves that had been thinned by autumn's turn. Dusk was settling upon the lands, daylight delivered from Solis' hands into Vespera's gentle embrace. Sometimes Kasil mused that Oriens and Vespera were twins, thus why their two pieces of the day were both so short and equally as glorious. It would make sense to him, but he had read nothing of it in the Dawn Libraries so he could not confirm. Perhaps if he were ever lucky enough to meet a god, he might ask just to satisfy his own curiosity. His ears twisted towards the sound of the snapping branch, his eyes sharp in the dying light. He was grateful for the distraction from his melancholy thoughts, so consumed by his responsibilities and their weight that he could use an intervention -- even a dangerous one.

The Sovereign unfurled the wings painted in rich swatches of mahogany, the tips of the velveteen feathers brushing the ground as he prepared for whatever was to come.

-le gasp- an open thread! with the king?!
First dibs to @Somnus and/or @Ipomoea

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Ipomoea
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#2




IPOMOEA
lay me down in golden dandelions ‘cause i’ve been waiting 
“The night would seem everlasting, darker than all natural nights and nurtured by Caligo’s horrible grief, to last nigh one hundred years…” The light was beginning to fade, making it hard to make out many more of the words on the page. The rosy appaloosa stretched, head reaching far towards the sky as he realized for the first time how late it was getting. Gold streaked across the sky, alighting the few scattered clouds and burning them with brightness. Directly above him, the sky had grown dark—stars speckling its great width—while it gradually lightened the closest to the horizon it stretched. He took a minute to watch, the colors changing and fading more and more into darkness with every breath. It reminded him of the soft colors and softer voice of Florentine, how appropriately it was that she lived in the court she resembled best.

Absently he began to roll the scroll that was splayed across his foreleg, binding it with the leather cord it had come with, before drawing himself up from the leaf-strewn ground. After taking one final look at the fading sky, he turned back towards the library, every intention of finishing his story beside the warmth of a hearth fire.

Ipomoea’s mind still buzzed with the words as he walked, the story of the gods reverberating inside of his mind, beckoning him to hasten his pace so that he might quickly get back to his reading. He had heard about the gods before, but never properly: everything he’d learned had been passed down by word of mouth, from travelers and merchants and swordsmen and friends. Books were a novelty item in the rest of Novus, it seemed, while the Dawn Court simply overflowed with them. He had found a new passion within the library, but still he preferred to take his reading outdoors, where he could be close to nature.  As his steps progressively quickened, he became gradually less aware of the noise he was making, a few sticks snapping and scattering beneath his hooves.

Turning a corner, he was pleasantly surprised to see the familiar figure standing in his path. His heart flip-flopped inside of his chest, its beat rising several paces faster. It was still new to him, this feeling that came every time he saw the king; Ipomoea didn’t yet understand it. He hoped no one else could hear the way it pounded in his ears.

“Kasil,” he addressed him informally, a smile on his lips as the story of the gods promptly left his mind. “Come to watch the setting sun? I hope you aren’t thinking of trading Courts on us,” he said jokingly, coming to stand hear the mahogany pegasus. The scroll he still held tightly to his chest with his mild telekinesis, despite the obvious distraction from his studies.


text. “talk!”
@kasil
trying to get used to writing again!

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<3










Played by Offline Sparrow [PM] Posts: 196 — Threads: 34
Signos: 25
Dawn Court Scholar
Male [He/Him/His]  |  16 [Year 495 Spring]  |  15.2 hh  |  Hth: 22 — Atk: 18 — Exp: 48  |    Active Magic: Blood Manipulation  |    Bonded: Alba (Barn Owl)
#3


Somnus

He wondered, at times, about destiny.

As an inexperienced youth, he had believed his destiny to be upon the winds of the world, traveling from place to place like an altruistic vagabond. Eagerly he had learned the workings of the world, insatiable in his lust and appetite for knowledge, for learning, for experiencing. He had dined with warriors, thieves, gypsies, and nobles, seeking their council, learning their truths and their lies. It had been in that youth where he had met Ulric, rough-and-tumble though he was, full of piss and sarcasm but far older than his years. Crippled with only one useful wing, they had found a mutual kinship between them, each yearning for something far more than what had originally been offered. Even when their inevitable parting had come, it would not be the last time that they would meet.

Then, he had thought his fate belonged at the side of his Vhallen King. Loyal and devoted to a fault, Somnus had sworn fealty to the late-King, sworn to guide and protect him. Chamberlain and advisor, he had quickly adapted to court life, thriving as a strategist, always thinking, always planning, offering a word of advice or understanding when his King’s stresses were paramount. Then, his King had fallen in the overthrow of Vhallen, leaving Somnus without purpose or hope. Heartbroken as he was, he continued on, until finding Novus, and in turn, Delumine.

Old friends were found. New friends were made. There had yet to be enemies, but for that, Somnus was grateful. He had settled in among the Dawn Court with hesitant eagerness, terrified to believe that maybe here would serve as his destiny. He thrived with purpose, with understanding, with usefulness, and while at times he struggled, he was learning to be content with himself. Sometimes destiny was not a person, or a place. Perhaps destiny was simply the state of understanding and coming to terms with oneself, of acceptance and self-love. If that were so, then he truly believed that he would find that here, in Delumine.

It was during such an introspective mood that Somnus had wandered, leaving the Citadel behind in favor of a walk. He did not fly, content to remain upon the ground and make his way leisurely through the outskirts of the Court. Nightfall was fast approaching, but it did nothing to deter his mood nor his path. The autumn air held the kiss of winter’s chill, a promise of things to come. As it was, the tactician nearly missed them as he passed through the trees like a golden specter, dark as his King’s hide was against the evening light. If it were not for Ipomoea standing near Kasil, his pale colors far easier for Somnus’ verdant eyes to spot, he may have walked right past them.

Slowing his pace, he hesitated, not wishing to disturb their camaraderie if he was unwanted. Yet, Somnus could not help but be intrigued. There was an air of seriousness about them, and it wasn’t often that he saw Kasil out of the confines of the Citadel. Was everything alright? Trepidation blossomed in his gut, a clawing, coiling feeling, and altering his path, the dunalino approached.

“I should hope not,” he stated softly as a greeting, tagging along at the tail end of Po’s melodic statement with amusement shining in emerald eyes, “Then I would need to find another to unintentionally accost novels at in the library.” It was a shame he would, perhaps, never live down, but not one that he didn’t mind bringing up every now and again.

Moving on, Somnus dipped his head towards Kasil with reverent respect. “Majesty.” Then again to Ipomoea, a small smile twisting dark lips. “Ipomoea. Good evening to you both.”



@Kasil @Ipomoea <3 <3




"There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self."



Please tag Somnus in all replies!





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Kasil
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#4

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KASIL


He must have looked like quite the sight, a man with danger gleaming in his eyes -- his wings spread out in full glory. Sometimes intimidation was the best way to deter an attack, yet he was fully prepared to follow through. Kasil had never been much of a warrior, but he supposed he could hold his own in a fight. He’d never really needed to test that idea. Every bone in his body began to creak with the sitllness, his ears straining to hear beyond what he could see. His ears fell back momentarily as someone rounded the path, a familiar sight. His emissary, young Ipomoea -- unmistakable in appearance, even without the tiny wings that fluttered at his ankles. The king of scrolls frowned, if only for the fact that he looked ready for a fight -- before smoothing his appearance with a smile.

“Po.” He named him formally, lowering the expanse of wings that had been prepared to lift him away from the earth. He was happy to see the rose-stained stallion, if only because their interactions had been more and more brief as of late. It was a good time to bring up a few court related issues, but to also check in and see how the young emissary was doing. It had been a while since he had picked up the mantle of emissary duties and Kasil wanted be sure that the youngster had not put too much of a burden onto himself. He opened his mouth to answer the question that the younger stallion had posed, when another voice interrupted him -- though it was one of those unmistakable voices. Somnus had been a relatively new face to the Dawn Court, but had quickly proven himself to be among Kasil’s trusted circle.

“Somnus.” He murmured with a pleased smile. Perhaps this was the best impromptu gathering he could have hoped for, an odd coincidence if he ever heard of one. The dunalino’s comment brought a wry smile to his face, the king rolling his eyes as he shook his head, the golden diadem centered on his forehead shaking just a little. “Dusk would be a prime hideaway from the likes of book-throwing heathens like you, Sonmus. I’m sure Florentine would keep me safe.” The king laughed, turning back to Po. “I was out enjoying a breath of fresh air. As much as I enjoy the libraries, sometimes the dust is a little too thick there for my head. Though, the two of you...I am surprised to see all of the important pieces of the regime so far from the citadel’s heart.”

He admitted. He had not yet had a chance to tell anyone of his decision to name Somnus as regent, but he supposed it was as good a time as any. Kasil had an odd knack for announcing things in unexpected ways. “Po, I’d like you to formally meet our new regent -- Somnus...assuming you accept?” He said lightly. “You both did well with the Harvest festival, I was pleased to hear so many good things about it’s success. I’d say he passed his test with flying colors, do you think, Po?”


@Ipomoea @Somnus kinda short but idk it felt natural?


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Ipomoea
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#5




IPOMOEA
lay me down in golden dandelions ‘cause i’ve been waiting 
Despite the joke he’d made, Ipomoea did not truly believe his king to be capable of such a thing, such a betrayal. It was true, he had heard the stories, listened for himself to the whispers that followed Kasil whenever he left the confines of the capitol—though if Kasil himself heard them, he certainly was excellent at pretending he did not. But Ipomoea had also talked to him first hand, had taken care to study him, actions and words and somber, pensive moments like these included. Even in his quieter moments, the Delumine king’s love for his city and his Court was obvious. Ipomoea trusted him in this.

And was glad to see him again. Perhaps it was his own fault, his own absence, that got in the way of their once frequent meetings. All of the lessons and studies had kept Ipomoea locked within the libraries, breaking free only on rare occasions such as these to get a breath of fresh air and to immerse himself back in the nature he so loved. He hadn’t realized his new role as Emissary would be quite so time consuming—or at least, he had expected to spend more time traveling than reading! It wasn’t to say the etiquette and history lessons were boring, for knowledge of all kinds enthralled him, but his expectations had, once again, proved far different than reality.

The sound of wingbeats overhead drew his attention away from Kasil and his thoughts, both ears tilting back towards the direction of rushing wind. Rosé eyes lit up at the appearance of Somnus, and Po was quick to take a step back to widen their makeshift circle to include the third stallion.

He listened with interest to their lighthearted  banter, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes with mirth—but he didn’t dare laugh out loud, not having been there himself. But his imagination was wild enough to paint a picture in his mind for him, based on the story that had previously been recounted: he could easily imagine the shock mirroring Kasil’s and Somnus’ faces alike, equally surprised by the weight of the book as it flew across the library.

”Oh, I know what you mean.” Again, Kasil’s voice interrupted his thoughts. ”I had to bring my book out here, to get away from the libraries for a bit… it’s too quiet in there for my liking.” He turned his sparkling gaze back to his king, feeble telekinesis shuffling his book from one side to the other. One ear twitched, a quizzical frown tugging the corners of his mouth to the side: all of the important pieces of the regime. Was he missing something?

“Po, I’d like you to formally meet our new regent -- Somnus” The pieces fell into place with a nearly audible, satisfying click, much like solving a puzzle.

“Oh, Somnus! Congratulations!” Ipomoea’s enthusiasm was unbounded, taking a few rapid steps forward to throw his neck about the dunalino’s withers. “I’d say he did indeed! The Harvest festival was the most fun Novus has seen in a while, Dawn was lucky to have such a great orchestrator for it.” His head bobbed along in agreement to Kasil’s question as he released the new regent, though he remained close. The company surrounding him simply felt right—perhaps it was Ipomoea’s youth or naivety clouding his judgement, but his cerise gaze shimmered with an ease that was quickly becoming his norm, the longer he spent in Delumine. This court was his home, and the two men before him his family: the world simply made sense this way.

“We should throw another celebration for such an announcement,” his tone turned coy and playful, the memories of the last festival thudding through his mind. Ipomoea certainly wouldn’t mind another party—Somnus had already proved himself capable of throwing together such a feat—so long as there was more cherry wine to partake of.



text. “talk!”
@kasil @Somnus!
a little choppy, but ahh i love these three ;o; ignore Po’s lack of personal space pls

coding by meverrnind
art by neverrmind
<3










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