Novus
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Novus closed 10/31/2022, after The Gentle Exodus

Private  - a helping hand [ all ]

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Araxes
Guest
#1




ARAXES
TENDER HEART


Denocte couldn't have been the only one hit, and she refused to sit back and sequester away and not reach out aid to others. So, the Champion had packed her small satchel with herbs and scrolls and rations, and had started on her journey. A journey to take her to other courts, to explore ties with them and hopefully mend what had once been so frayed to the point of near destruction. It might not have been her exact job, but she was a Champion of Wisdom, and took it upon herself to at least offer some sort of help where she could.

Whether they took it or not was up to them.

The Day Court was.. chillier, than she remembered, and she wondered what had happened. There was no snow, not remaining, leaving behind slightly wet sand as she had trudged her way through all the way to the capital, finally coming to the structure and shaking herself off, letting out a sigh and looking up. She'd been here plenty of times before, thankfully welcomed, even when things had been more uneasy.

Shifting on her hooves, she flicked her tail, and glanced about, furrowing her brows just a little. "Is everyone okay? Is the regime here?" she called out. "Seraphina? Bexley? Eik? Anyone?" She wondered what toll had been taken on the Solterrans. What had happened here, while Denocte had been pounded by tsunamis and storms and thunder birds? While they had been shredded by nature itself.

Novus certainly had changed, she knew that much.


@any || this is post-SWP, she's coming to check in on everyone!  













Played by Offline REDANDBLACK [PM] Posts: 302 — Threads: 37
Signos: 135
Inactive Character
#2

Bexley stands in the damp sand and looks out across the Mors and feels something like pain ratcheting deep inside her chest. In the wake of disaster, very little of their home feels real - not the citadel, not the empty streets, not the solemn quietness of new graves being dug - but the Regent cannot simply sit back and pretend it’s not happening. What kind of leader would she be?

Seraphina has remained lamentably silent, and Bexley has to stand in her place now. But it feels wrong. Those footsteps are far too large from someone like the golden girl to fill. She is not diplomatic, or cool-headed, or smart beyond the scope of emotionality - how is she supposed to measure up to their Sovereign and especially in a situation like this? Solterra does not look up to her in the same way that they do their queen, and for good reason, but Bexley’s grasp of control on the citizenry is slipping out of her hands as quickly as sand through her fingers (when it’s not as wet and dense as it is today).

Her foggy brain takes longer than it should to recognize the sound of an intruder. (This is something else she’ll punish herself for, but only later, when no one can be witness to that kind of weakness.) When she does hear it, though, it’s no more than a second until she’s skidding off toward the gates to track down whoever’s just entered the Court, poised and predatory as ever, the only thing setting her apart from her regular self the presence of newly visible ribs and the look of exhaustion in her blue eyes.

She’s pleasantly surprised to find it’s only Araxes on the steps, someone she’s bumped into time and time again. Bex slows and stops in front of the Denoctian with a raggedy smile and a subtle tilt of her head - Araxes, she greets, and her voice is almost warm. What’s going on?
Bexley
my dragonfly, my black-eyed flower -










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Araxes
Guest
#3




ARAXES
TENDER HEART


Isn't it strange, to be back in Solterra again? It was, really, but she found this time she was a little more hurried. Tor was usually at the front of her mind when her hooves hit the sands, yet this time she found he was not. What was, was the fact that she could reach out and help this time. That she should. To see if there were ways to offer help while she could. Denocte was more stable at the moment with its healers, and well, offering help was no harm.

Slate eyes flickered upward to see a golden figure appear, and her head perked, hooves pausing on those steps as she recognized Bexley, and her features lit up for a moment upon seeing her. It was nice to see a familiar face, one that was not downtrodden. Raggedy, perhaps, but still holding hope, as many did. "I've come to offer help, Bexley, from Denocte. I see we're not the only ones hit by... strange phenomenon. I thought I should begin helping other courts, since ours is more stable. Is everyone okay? Do you need herbs?" She knew Solterra didn't have many healing herbs, which was why she had brought as many as she could, with their leaves poking out of her bag.

"And you.. how are you? It's been a while." Despite being there on a mission for peace and help, well. She couldn't help but worry about her golden friend, wings shuffling behind her ears, feathers ruffling. Bexley looked... tired, and she wondered if it was because she was Regent now. It seemed being Regime of any kind weighed on others, but with so much responsibility, it made sense.

But then... where was Seraphina? It dawned on her that she hadn't seen the silver woman, and Araxes felt a little uneasy at the thought. Hopefully she was merely in the capital somewhere.


@Bexley || yay!













Played by Offline REDANDBLACK [PM] Posts: 302 — Threads: 37
Signos: 135
Inactive Character
#4

Help… from Denocte.

Almost she smiles, then, half a grin splicing those bone-white lips in two. It’s not a humorous situation - not at all (even as they talk she feels frost creeping up her fetlocks, shivers at the white crust of ice in her hair) - but there’s nothing she can do about it except laugh and move on. Dwelling on the issue will only make it worse. So she grinds her teeth against the cold and stands straight-backed in the wind, stoic and calm.

She remembers when Araxes and Torstein were the only Night-Day conspirators, and how she had laughed at them under her breath, wondering how a Solterran could ever get themselves involved with someone like that - how stupid could someone be to fall for a girl from Denocte? And then she had done it herself, and here they are, polar opposites in icy sand.

The world is strange.

Most of us are okay, Bexley answers, but her mouth twists awkwardly. She’s not sure how much to divulge - if it’s okay, if it will ever be okay, to talk about the bird-boned weaknesses of her own home. Cold but not injured. Food is the problem. People are hungry, most of them are stuck inside, and they’re angry about it. Her voice is flat and unwittingly harsh, and she stares at Araxes with a gaze that is deeply, deeply troubled.

And Denocte?


She does not ask of Acton, as much as her heart asks for it.
Bexley
my dragonfly, my black-eyed flower -










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