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Current

Current Novus date and time is

▶ Year || 502
▶ Season || Summer
▶ Temp || 74℉ (℃) - 100℉ (℃)
▶ Weather || With the end of Spring comes Summer's warm embrace. While some flourish in the comfortable glow of the sun, others take shelter from its sweltering midday heat. Even so, it is now that the continent bustles with life, for it won't be long until a cool chill returns.

Spotlight

Character of the Season
Avdotya

Member of the Season
Jeanne

Thread of the Season
.. Cool your fever ..

Pair of the Season
Ipomoea and Messalina

Quote of the Season
Bexley gives him a cold, dark, beautiful smile. “Wanna see a trick?” she asks, eyes glowing with feral self-satisfaction. The bare of her teeth in a mock-grin is nothing less than terrifying. “I can make you see ghosts.” do the hungry ever sleep?

see here for nominations


DISCORD


All Welcome - a midsummer night's dream
Pavetta — Dawn Court Caretaker Signos: 165
▶ Played by Pres [PM] Posts: 16 — Threads: 5
▶ Female [She/Her/Hers] Hth: 7 — Atk: 13 — Exp: 10
▶ 3 [Year 499 Spring] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 15 hh Bonded: N/A
#1


p a v e t t a - - -

Perhaps she should be mingling, laughing, dancing. 

Instead Pavetta merely watched, lingering near the forest’s edge amid the glowing lanterns and flickering fireflies. She was not in a festive mood and yet she had allowed a young child to paint swirls of glittering silver and and rose on her cheeks. Pavetta had smiled as the child babbled on excitedly about the festival, and then when the girl’s masterpiece was finished, Pavetta had retreated once more to the edge of the forest. Dusk had settled across the sky, ribbons of color and threads of darkness unfurling along the horizon. The summer air was cool; a gentle breeze tousled silver hair across her eyes. 

There were many sights, all beautiful and unique and quant, as was the entirety of the Dawn Court. Flowers, color, laughter, lovers, art, music. She had never met such peaceful, content souls such as the ones that dwelled within these fairyland borders. The maidens were fair, shy, demure and the men were gentle, loyal, steadfast. Where did Pavetta fit in? She felt too unrefined, too rough around the edges. She had lived wild among the Clans of the mountains, a bride of war and battle, a healer to the bleeding and the broken. War was a distant thing here, nothing more than a bad dream. 

This isn’t the real world.

Out there, beyond Delumine, was the real world. 

Would she ever see it again? A portal had brought her from world of death, darkness, monsters, and chaos. At first she had thought it a blessing when the fair King Somnus resuced her and brought her to heal in a place of peace and sunlight. But now? Now she wasn’t so sure. Only time would tell.

a pearl in pigshit, a diamond on the finger of a rotting corpse,
creature in whom nothing, but nothing, remains of an elven woman ---

art by the lovely sid


this is my story, not yours
you must let me finish telling it



Reply
Calliope — Dusk Court Warrior Signos: 390
▶ Played by Nestle [PM] Posts: 18 — Threads: 2
▶ Female [She/Her/Hers] Hth: 8 — Atk: 12 — Exp: 10
▶ 5 [Year 497 Spring] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 16.2 hh Bonded: N/A
#2
– Calliope –
a war is nourished on her horn

*


The forest is a place made for unicorns. All the flowers and tall, butter-soft grasses could not hope to hold the wild edges of them, all the dangerous things that are promised by the tips of their horns.

Unicorns are made for the trees, for the shadows beneath their gnarled and ancient trunks. They are creatures to be whispered of and rarely seen.

Calliope too is made for the darkness and she's there, hidden from sight, watching the coming and goings of her court. She is not made for flowers and children and all the lovely, soft things that can be found at the festival.

Raymond (as she watches him sharpen his wicked blade) is better suited for this festival than she.

Calliope is made of war and justice. She is a downpour of righteousness and all the harsh edges of her body promise battle and stories too dark and full of death to share beneath the gentle dusk. She's too wild for the world of Novus, 'other' even in a world full of horses more fantastic and bright than anything she has ever seen.

It is not a good thing that Novus still holds a unicorn that has never been held by worlds and walls and crowns before. Nor has that long faded lion her bones known any cage strong enough to hold back the hunger when it takes.

Nothing good comes from the feral storm of Calliope once she's set her sights and let loose her rage.

She does them a kindness by keeping to the shadows and setting her scarred and silver gaze far, far from the children and the peaceful horses of the dawn. This land is not made for her and so she only watches, tight enough to snap with the way she has nothing to do here but think back, back, back...

Back to a time she has smoked out the dragons and tore them to pieces, to the way she lured sea-monsters to the shore so that she might flay them. Calliope remembers too well finding a underworld from the top of a staircase and the way she had to take the last breath of her sister in a merciful death. She has hunted sick, infected horses and electrified a river to save the healthy.

Oh, Calliope remembers the monster she's had to become over and over again to save those who are too weak to kill, to take their vengeance swifter and harsher than any wild, winter storm.

There is no shame in being the unicorn who lingers in the dark, who welcomes the blackness to flush out the monster too gruesome and grotesque to behold. Calliope regrets nothing, fears nothing. She is the reaper and death the blood-crusted tip of her horn.

And perhaps it's because she's thinking back to all the universes that have tried to hold her and could not that her voice is a little too much like a lion's rumble when she turns to the gray unicorn as she wanders across her path. “The forest suits you more than the glitter upon your cheek.” Calliope's smile is a little too fierce as she walks closer. It is the smile of a wild thing, of a unicorn untamed.

“All the fun is found out there.” She tosses her nose towards the fields where children scream and frolic and stories are whispered with touches and looks in the low firelight of bonfires. “Why do you not join them?” There is something in Calliope's deep silver gaze that promises more than she asks.

There is a world far beyond Novus and any possible reality in that bright, violent gaze of hers and the way it's framed only by dark skin and brutal scars.

@Pavetta



Reply
Pavetta — Dawn Court Caretaker Signos: 165
▶ Played by Pres [PM] Posts: 16 — Threads: 5
▶ Female [She/Her/Hers] Hth: 7 — Atk: 13 — Exp: 10
▶ 3 [Year 499 Spring] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 15 hh Bonded: N/A
#3


p a v e t t a - - -

She recalled the evening spent in the Night Court, surrounded by shadows and exotic strangers. A man with golden eyes and a black mask. More shadows, the perfume of lavender on her skin. There had been no expectations, no exchange of names, no promises. Just drinks in the darkness, firelight in their eyes. She could be anyone she chose, any personality she desired, because who would know any better? A night of discovery and adventure, intrigue and mystery all beneath the moon cloud and stars. 

Dawn had come too soon.

I suppose you are right,” Pavetta agreed with a sigh, startled by the truth the unicorn offered and feeling somewhat foolish for attempting to be something she wasn’t. The paint on Pavetta’s cheek chafed; she fought the urge to scrape it off.

Pavetta couldn’t recall meeting the ebony unicorn before, surely she would have remembered such an encounter. The unicorn’s smile was chilling, her silver gaze piercing. No, Pavetta would remember such a woman. The stranger had the proud, regal bearing of a sorceress, the prowess of a cunning panther. Scars littered the sleek black skin. A warrior perhaps. Other worldly, a queen. It seemed like Pavetta should feel deep unease in such a profound, dark presence, but instead found the stranger's company oddly comforting. Their conversation seemed easy; not bogged down by faked pleasantries or the exchange of woven floral crowns.

Trying not to stare too outright, Pavetta followed the stranger’s gesture to the fairy tale scene before them. Glowing lanterns, music floating sweetly through the air. Laughter of children; men and women wearing flowers in their hair and glittering paint on their skin.

I don’t know,” Pavetta admitted truthfully, feeling as though her answer wasn’t right, wasn’t good enough, and probably disappointing. And then she found it even more bewildering that she cared about the stranger’s opinion at all. The intensity of the woman’s silver gaze was burning, scrutinizing. What does she see? Who is she? It was clear she was of old, ancient unicorn bloodlines, far more pure than Pavetta’s scattered unicorn heritage. Surely she wasn't from the Dawn Court, nor even Novus in its entirety. “You’re not from around here.” Blunt, straightforward, burning curiosity lingering in her voice. Was this woman from a world of death and chaos and monsters, too?

a pearl in pigshit, a diamond on the finger of a rotting corpse,
creature in whom nothing, but nothing, remains of an elven woman ---


@Calliope


this is my story, not yours
you must let me finish telling it



Reply
Calliope — Dusk Court Warrior Signos: 390
▶ Played by Nestle [PM] Posts: 18 — Threads: 2
▶ Female [She/Her/Hers] Hth: 8 — Atk: 12 — Exp: 10
▶ 5 [Year 497 Spring] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 16.2 hh Bonded: N/A
#4
– Calliope –
a justice that no flesh can hold

*


It is a dangerous thing when two unicorns come together beneath the ancient trees. There is a connection between their eyes, rose gold to silver, black to gray. Something dark grows, something powerful, something older than magic when their scars glint just so beneath the shady light. How heavy the shadows seem between them, too thick for any fire to breech.

Calliope is comfortable in that place where the air seems like oil and smoke and to breathe it feels like drowning. She wonders, if they were to tap their horns together what sound might ring out in that heady air, what tinder they might alight with the sparks of their weapons. Like a lion she moves closer. She is nothing more than a wisp of strangeness as she comes close enough to taste the lingering sweetness of sunshine on gray unicorn skin.

“No.” The word sounds like more than a syllable on her lips. It sounds like a rumble of thunder, an echo of all the lighting storms that lived on the tip of her tongue once, so very long ago. “I am not of Novus.” Calliope smiles. Even that gesture is something more than a flash of teeth and the tilt of her lips looks too feral for a horse to wear and it sets her eyes to sparking like stars.

She leans closer, reaching out to wipe away all that paint and glitter on the other unicorns cheek. They need no adornment but their horns and the brutal patchwork masterpieces of their scars.

“I am from more universes than you could dream of.” Calliope is from worlds far beyond this one. She has changed her skin, her weapons. She has changed so many parts of her, over and over again until all she was left with was her soul and that wicked, violent purpose of hers.

But this body, four too long legs, that curving scythe of her horn and that streak of white lighting down her side, is the most familiar to her out of all the bodies and bones she's worn.

Behind her that double tail flicks and twitches over the soft, summer weeds. It moves just like a lion's tail, a hint that this body she wears is more than just a unicorn. That tail promises that she's a hunter, a wild-cat in the body of a legend.

“What of you?” How heavy the air as become now, thicker than oil. It's as thick as the ancient blood of unicorns that courses through their veins. “What kind of unicorn are you?” Even as she asks the question, Calliope remembers.

She remembers killing all the other unicorns who raised her and the way their skin felt like paper beneath her rage.

@Pavetta



Reply
Pavetta — Dawn Court Caretaker Signos: 165
▶ Played by Pres [PM] Posts: 16 — Threads: 5
▶ Female [She/Her/Hers] Hth: 7 — Atk: 13 — Exp: 10
▶ 3 [Year 499 Spring] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 15 hh Bonded: N/A
#5


p a v e t t a - - -

I am from more universes than you could dream of.

There was a time when Pavetta might have been able to dream of such a thing. Years ago when she was a lonely girl in the mountains, dreaming of her mysterious father and of the adventures they might have journeyed on together, the worlds they might have seen, the things he could have taught her. The dreaming had went away, though, faded and withered like dry grass in the heat of summer. Life wasn’t for dreamers, it was for survivors. Pavetta had learned that lesson early on.

Pavetta tensed slightly as the black unicorn moved closer and reached out to her cheek, tail lashing like a panther about to pounce. She held her breath as the paint was wiped away, the glitter spiraling to the forest floor like rain. “Why here then, of all universes?” she asked, releasing her breath in a sigh of relief.

The paint was gone and her cheeks felt cleansed, as if the masquerade mask had been tossed away for the first time since she had arrived in Novus. What kind of unicorn are you?

Pavetta paused, uncertain and reluctant to answer, wondering how the evening took such a strange, bewildering turn. Who am I? She was the girl from the mountaintop, the young bride meeting her husband for the first time, the widowed girl in the swamp with shorn hair and wild, hungry eyes.

She recalled when the priestesses abandoned her for four nights in the black forest in a last effort to bring forth her dormant magic in dire life or death circumstances. Alone in the forest at night: a certain death sentence for one without magic to aid them in their fight for survival against the monsters and creatures that stalked in the shadows, hungry for blood. She remembered the tears, crying, pleading, pounding on the fortress door, screaming, let me back in. They did not. Her magic never surfaced, remaining dormant as ever, but she survived.

After that the priestesses packed her off down the mountain to marry a lord she had never met. She remembered the dark initiation ritual into her husband’s clan, the feeling of rage and helplessness as the sizzling red-hot silver bar was pierced through her nostrils (a mark of ownership), the stench of blood on her skin; the way she was bathed and hair braided and woven, paraded before the men like a cow at auction. Anger, hate, bitterness at the lack of choice, of freedom in her life—black, boiling emotions that both fueled her survival and frightened her.

And she survived that too. Thrived, even.

What kind of unicorn are you?

I don’t know...yet,” she said at last. An answer that conveyed uncertainty and self-doubt. But her voice was strangely calm and her gaze steely as she met the black woman’s expecting eyes. “I could be many things. I have been many things."

a pearl in pigshit, a diamond on the finger of a rotting corpse,
creature in whom nothing, but nothing, remains of an elven woman ---


@Calliope


this is my story, not yours
you must let me finish telling it



Reply
Calliope — Dusk Court Warrior Signos: 390
▶ Played by Nestle [PM] Posts: 18 — Threads: 2
▶ Female [She/Her/Hers] Hth: 8 — Atk: 12 — Exp: 10
▶ 5 [Year 497 Spring] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 16.2 hh Bonded: N/A
#6
– Calliope –
a titan that is rising

*


Calliope watches the other unicorn and there is a predatory gleam in her silver eyes. There is nothing horse, nothing mortal, nothing forgiving in that gaze of hers as she watches the mare tense and pause. She wonders what it might be to feel uncertainty, to feel like a unicorn with something more than purpose and justice in her bones.

Always has she been instant in her choices, fierce in her convictions. All her steps have been full of a drive for the end, for the end she can't quiet seem to reach.

The world is not done with Calliope, nor is she finished with it. There are still more monsters to pluck out from the seems of the universe, more walls for her to crumble down to dust. Where there is evil and sin there will be Calliope, ready to build a graveyard with the bones of beasts.

She watches the unicorn and answers with a blaze to her eyes and a flick of her tail. “There is something I have been searching for.” It is easy to believe that there is no universe that could keep her from her quest, no fate she could not bend before that iron of her will and horn. Even the trees seem gentle and fragile where her eyes looks out past their shadows, as if even now she can not be kept from her searching.

“Novus might have need of me.” She turns and looks out over the forest, out to where a fire blazes with the destructive power of a dragon. Inside that old, dead lion roars for it remembers how scales felt against its claws. Calliope too remembers the way that dragon fire could not slow her rage as she turned them to ash, bones and warnings made of death.

But here in the forest, in a moment between two unicorns and shadows, there are too many things to think of than dragons and monsters to be put down. Later her judgment will come, when she knows the entire story.

Later will be brutal.

Now she only lowers her horn to tap gently across that hollow just below other unicorn's eyes. It's a kiss of a weapon, gentleness from something stained in blood. There is nothing vicious in her movement, in the way she leans just close enough to be considered brash. “You could be unstoppable.” Calliope holds a promise in her voice. All the mare would have to do is but to ask Calliope, ask her what that silent echo in her words might hold.

“How did you get your scars.” It's not a question, not really. The words cannot be anything so kind with the way they echo with old lightning, old rage.


@Pavetta



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