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Current

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.

Spotlight

Character of the Season
Velorca

Member of the Season
Sparrow

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

see here for nominations


CBOX

Private - I'll cool your fever till the doctor comes;
Lysander — Dusk Court Caretaker Signos: 220
▶ Played by griffin [PM] Posts: 15 — Threads: 3
▶ Male [He/Him/his] Hth: 12 — Atk: 8 — Exp: 10
▶ 7 [Year 495 Spring] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 15.2 hh Bonded: N/A
#1

LYSANDER







It’s well after midnight, now, and the snow has stopped falling. Tracks criss-cross the soft shroud it makes, but the setting moon still sets the untouched places to a diamond shine.
 
There is wine like a sweet slow hum in his veins, an old friend keeping him warm. For Lysander it had been a fine night, a reminder of times too long ago to count. Only Florentine kept worrying at his mind like a bramble in his coat. The antlered stallion had searched for her, after splitting off from the kirin, but there had been no trace of the golden Anthousai. Even the breeze had no trace of hyacinths; it was overwhelmed by woodsmoke, by spiced wine, by jasmine.
 
And so he walks alone, content to wander and observe as the last of the fires burn down and the noise of the revelry fades. Over and over his mind turns to her, to the way her face had fallen at the sight of her gypsy-king, the hurt writ plain in the lines of her mouth, her lashes, her amethyst eyes. Oh, he had warned her, long ago, that love could be a troublesome, painful thing; what he did not expect was for her hurt to wound him, too.
 
Even so, deeper and deeper yet beneath the slumbering soil of his strange old heart, there is a god’s jealousy and god’s curiosity, green and vital as sap from a weeping tree.
 
If he were to remain mortal, what else might he grow to feel?
 
He has wandered far from the festival, now; the cold has crept in again, enough to make him shiver. It is dark, the fires distant. The stallion pauses, breathes a stream of silver into the winter air, stands poised between the forest ahead and the castle behind. Lysander isn’t sure where he’s going, but he isn’t afraid.
 
He has never been afraid in his life. 




@Reichenbach @Raum @Lavinia and any crows I missed

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Reichenbach — Night Court Sovereign Signos: 890
▶ Played by spaced [PM] Posts: 190 — Threads: 26
▶ Male [He/Him/His] Hth: 18 — Atk: 22 — Exp: 32
▶ 7 [Year 494 Summer] Active Magic: Hypno-Singing
▶ 17hh Bonded: N/A
#2
                 

these violent delights,
have violent ends


The air was crisp upon his mahogany skin, the breeze stroking a cool hand down his muscular back. He wore a wild grin, the moonlight glinting in his abyssal eyes as he watched Lysander track aimlessly through the snow. He rolled his broad shoulders, feeling every shift of the air and touch of his coal curls, his coins free and tinkling through the still night air. 

He could of silenced them, for cautions sake — but he wanted the now mortal God to know who was coming, to hear that sound and remember it. Perhaps if Lysander had not smiled at him so knowingly the events that followed would not have had to occur... but he had, and Reichenbach had not liked the words that smile had said. Hadn't particularly enjoyed the way his eyes had lingered on Florentine either. Or that he'd then taken Isorath dancing — it was irrelevant that the invitation had been posed by Isorath himself. 

After such an emotionally tumultuous evening, the King Crow was itching for a fight. 

Some of his Crows had found him along the way — some of the more violent, the more willing to get their hands dirty. Reichenbach saw some of himself in all of them. Acton stepped vigorously next to him, so handsome in his black and gold, the same itch for a fight underneath his skin. That boy was chaos and fury bottled up into a raucous grin and flashing tricks — Reichenbach adored him, fiercely cherished the runaway and his loyalty. The anger inside of him was so like his own, so unstable and ready to ignite. 

It was likely why the raven-haired trickster had been the first to fall into step with him, perhaps sensing a current of that similar rage, the tension that would result only in bloodied fists. 

Lavinia had fallen into step upon his other side not long after, her long lashed eyes keen and bright against the frigid night air. Her lithe body moved with a dancers grace, the knives he had given her no doubt glinting excitedly within the expanse of her beautiful copper hair. God help the world of Novus when the twins grew into fully fledged women — even Reichenbach would be no match for the lethal girls. 

And finally Raum... Raum could have been there all night, or for none of it — his Ghost was just that, a wraith shifting through the evening, his boyish blue eyes capturing everything. He'd known his Ghost was there likely because the boy wanted him to know... Reich was glad. Raum certainly was one of the most capable and experienced of their crew, no doubt he would be glad to finally remove himself from the desert sand of Solterra and shake loose some of his tightly coiled energy. 

Reich turned his head slightly toward Acton, then Lavinia, grinning as they emerged from the shadows in front of Lysander, he first and then the two of them — wicked and joyous, chaotic and calm. 

"You're not done dancing yet.."

He drawled, those long lashed argent eyes glinting through the darkness.
 



@Lysander @Acton @Lavinia @Raum sorry for the wait!!
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[Image: 4_gin_by_fintron_dc3sjmx_by_space1993-dc3tav5.png]
please tag me in every post
contact is encouraged, reich loves a cuddle!

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Raum — Day Court Commoner Signos: 260
▶ Played by Obsidian [PM] Posts: 27 — Threads: 2
▶ Male [He/Him/His] Hth: 7 — Atk: 13 — Exp: 10
▶ 6 [Year 496 Spring] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 16.2 hh Bonded: N/A
#3
 


Reichenbach was right, Raum had been there all night. He had been following the boy since the King of Crows mentioned the attack. When they began to creep out of the darkness, his Crows, his beloved orphans, Raum felt his skin ease. It had been tight, as if its surface area was not enough to cover all his bones. But now, oh no it was liquid mercury pouring over his skeleton.
 
He waits, so still in the darkness, in the shadows that hang so oddly still. He has never been to Terrastella before and following their target as he had, he had come to know some of its arterial routes: in case they would be the only means of escape when the time should come.
 
His eyes glint electric blue but shrouded in darkness until they are nothing but an occasional gleam. They are, tonight, black ink caught beneath the moon’s glow.
 
You’re not done dancing yet.
 
And that was Raum’s cue, he steps from the darkness, opposite his Crows, the ex-god, now mortal, now so vulnerable between them. His lips pull into a grim, grim smile. No one stayed mighty forever.
 
The moonlight catches the blue of his scarf, so recently returned to wrap about his throat and at his limb, wrapped tightly about it, his knife glinted ominously. It had shed blood already and its thirst was far from slaked.
 
With the grace of a panther Raum stalks forward until he stops. His eyes pour like mercury over the victim, looking at his every weakness with the languid appraisal of a predator searching for the sweetest meat upon its felled prey.
 
He does not lift his eyes to gaze at his brothers and sister, he does not draw his eyes from the task at hand. He is hungry to remind them all just how much he is a Crow, no matter how long he has spent beneath the Soleterran sun.

@Reichenbach, @Acton, @Lavinia, @Lysander eeee he is back with his Crows <3 <3

 
[Image: x341oLX.png]

You're one microscopic cog

in his catastrophic plan

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Acton — Night Court Commoner Signos: 65
▶ Played by Griffin [PM] Posts: 34 — Threads: 5
▶ Male [He/Him/His] Hth: 8 — Atk: 12 — Exp: 13
▶ 4 [Year 497 Summer] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 15.3 hh Bonded: N/A
#4
Acton
Not yet corpses. Still, we rot.
 

Where had he been for the rest of the night? It didn’t matter; already it had blurred into hazy memory against the blade-sharp focus of the here, the now. The sweet-sharp smell of the pines and the starlight on their skin and Reichenbach at his side – the way it had been, the way (as far as Acton was concerned) that it always should be.

He didn’t even try to keep the grin from his dark mouth, the swagger from his steps. There were parts of himself he had to keep hidden, sometimes, but not this one. Never this one.

As soon as he’d seen his king he’d known something bloody was coming. There was, of course, some measure of guilt at the pain writ in Reichenbach’s brilliant eyes, but Acton had never had a terribly high opinion of romance; as far as he was concerned, this was how it always ended.

And if a particularly nasty breakup meant he got to brawl once more alongside his brother, well. Love never stood a chance.

He wanted to laugh when he first caught sight of their prey. Not much but shadow and antlers, this late, but he could see the curls of his hair, a hint of dapples in his coat. Poor man, poor god, poor fool; the buckskin ran his tongue across his teeth, felt each muscle taught with adrenaline, counted down the beat-beat-beat of his heart until their gypsy king gave the signal.

Acton wanted to leap forward but forced it to a strut; his amber eyes gleamed to see Raum step from the shadows like mist rolling over the snow, to see Lavinia close in, too. He couldn’t help the shiver, half cold, half anticipation, and neither can he help the click of his teeth as he closed in off the stallion’s left shoulder.

“I hope you had plenty to drink, friend,” he said, and grinned a hangman’s grin.



@Lavinia @Raum @Reichenbach @Lysander




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Lavinia — Night Court Commoner Signos: 40
▶ Played by Keira [PM] Posts: 14 — Threads: 2
▶ Female [She/Her/Hers] Hth: 10 — Atk: 10 — Exp: 10
▶ 3 [Year 498 Fall] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 15 hh Bonded: N/A
#5




Lavinia
MAKE IT LOOK PRETTY, BUT TRAIN IT TO KILL




Tonight Lavinia had kept close to her king or as close as she dared while he mingled with the others. Normally the fire and gold adorned woman would have been out there amongst the others, dancing, singing and drinking. But..tonight was different, the night was tense and every muscle in her body was coiled and ready for action. Soon enough she was beside her crow king and her fellow brothers, gaze alight in anticipation. She longed to use her knives for something other than dance and if her knives could talk? They would agree. They longed for action and they would get it tonight if things went well..or not.

She waits in the shadows for a moment longer while Reich spoke to this so called god turned mortal. She didn't know if she believed the story but he certainly wasn't a god now. He would bleed like any other on this world. Lavinia takes one long step forward from the shadows, her gaze glancing at her two brothers for a brief moment. A dangerous glint there before she turned on the one who was wanted by their king. A cool smile graces her lips like a snake that was waiting to strike, "I do hope you're a good dancer." She spoke quietly, a dangerous whisper that spoke of other things.



@Reichenbach @Acton @Raum @Lysander
"this here is your speech colour!



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Lysander — Dusk Court Caretaker Signos: 220
▶ Played by griffin [PM] Posts: 15 — Threads: 3
▶ Male [He/Him/his] Hth: 12 — Atk: 8 — Exp: 10
▶ 7 [Year 495 Spring] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 15.2 hh Bonded: N/A
#6

LYSANDER







He is aware enough to know when he goes from being alone to not. Before, even, the faint chime of coins carries across the clear cold air, he can feel it – the weight of eyes on him.

Lysander has never minded being watched. Tonight there had been plenty of it: he was a stranger to them all, his new antlers bone-white, strange smells in his dappled coat and the dark curl of his hair. Strange things in his shifting green eyes. And that was to say nothing of the company he found himself keeping: kings and queens and kirins. It has been a long, long time since he’d found himself amidst such politics, such finery, such civilized savagery.

Even so he is surprised, for a moment, when three shapes peel themselves from the darkness of tangled limbs and black trunks. He even stops, his tail lashing, one cloven hoof poised: a startled stag on a midwinter night. But then he drops his foot back to the snow, and huffs a soft laugh that dissolves into silver mist. There is even a measure of humor in it, though small.

He says nothing, only watches them come forward. All of a sudden he can feel it, this strangely intricate mortal body, each humming vein and stretch of sinew. It’s a marvelous thing, truly, though terribly delicate.

He knows how weak these bodies are.

At the arrival of the fourth behind him, an ear twists back, the first betrayal of nerves. Had his transgressions for the night numbered so high?

The king speaks, as do the ones to his left and his right, and a smile creases Lysander’s cheek.

Strangely, he can smell the sharp tang of metal, though there is no blood yet.

“I’m afraid I don’t know this one,” he says, and oh, it is a lie. The knowledge of it is there in the dark, creeping green of his eyes, in the soft and knowing curl of his lips. His gaze snares them all, and comes to rest on the silver of Reichenbach’s eyes, gleaming like the moonlight, like the glint of a knife. “You’ll have to teach me the steps.”
 




@Reichenbach @Raum @Lavinia wee this will be fun

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Reichenbach — Night Court Sovereign Signos: 890
▶ Played by spaced [PM] Posts: 190 — Threads: 26
▶ Male [He/Him/His] Hth: 18 — Atk: 22 — Exp: 32
▶ 7 [Year 494 Summer] Active Magic: Hypno-Singing
▶ 17hh Bonded: N/A
#7
                 

these violent delights,
have violent ends


Each of them said their hello's — Raum's a silent promise, Acton's a jovial grin and Lavinia's a chillingly feminine remark. He found himself grinning wider at each Crows word, lazy and certain in all his movements. Lysander was in for a rough, rough night. There was nothing the ex-God could do to prevent this moment, no amount of careful, knowing smiles or elegantly chosen words would save him. No golden girl with petals in her hair would alight and command them to STOP.

“You’ll have to teach me the steps.” 

Gladly.

The Night King did not wait to say something witty or smart — he just raised his vast hooves quick as a flash and brought them down with a sickening thud upon Lysander's waiting head. He heard the grunt and exhale as he struck, felt the slickness of blood upon his hooves even as his own blood pounded excitedly — this was what he'd been waiting for, all the torture of this long winters night had drawn him here, now. 

The others he could sense around him, Raum like quicksilver, Lavinia a graceful dancer — and Acton just like him, punching and tearing with a bloody grin. They were artists, and Lysander the unlucky canvas. 
 



@Lysander @Acton @Lavinia @Raum <3 a bit short sorry guys!
space
[Image: 4_gin_by_fintron_dc3sjmx_by_space1993-dc3tav5.png]
please tag me in every post
contact is encouraged, reich loves a cuddle!

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