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Beautifully drawn by Sid (Erasvita@DA)!
Current Novus date and time is

▶ Year || 503
▶ Season || Summer
▶ Temp || 74℉ (23℃) - 100℉ (37℃)
▶ Weather || The end of Spring brings about, once more, the warm embrace of Summer. 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
El Toro

Member of the Season
Griffin

Thread of the Season
Bring Me Thunder; Bring Me Steel

Pair of the Season
Eik and Isra

Quote of the Season
"Her mother lives all in day, her father all in night, and Apolonia straddles the thin, dusky line halving her heart with not so much grace - startling awake in the middle of the night or at the crack of dawn, trying to find some way to compromise." — Apolonia in
The Vine & The Rain & The Light

see here for nominations


DISCORD

All Welcome - SPICE ON THE LUNG
El Toro — Day Court Soldier Signos: 5
▶ Played by Muirgen [PM] Posts: 50 — Threads: 9
▶ Male [He/Him/His] Hth: 7 — Atk: 13 — Exp: 14
▶ 7 [Year 496 Summer] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 17.2 hh Bonded: N/A
#1
horns of marble carry the sun

He feels like a colt, somehow, pride burning in his chest like half the oxygen he needs and twice the carbon dioxide, muscles taut as springs and the mending flank. There’s going to be a hunt tomorrow, a hunt, a hunt, a hunt, and he sees no one staring, maybe no one is, maybe everyone is but it doesn’t even cross his mind. El Toro slips through the crowds like anybody else and it makes him feel like a god in disguise. He is free. Free until the battle is waged on the snow-blanketed desert, free until he rips out the hearts of his enemies with horns of white marble and is known.

A folk hero.

He wanders the market now, its crowds thinned from fear and cold but it still smells like hot spices and burnt hair. Hunger is the only blade that cuts his joy; he looks for something fun, something interesting, because it is unlikely he will ever get a taste of home again. There’s a stand open, some plump old stallion flipping cakes turned orange by spice, his mind sending them into the air and back down again, flames licking too close to the colorful banner above. It smells like grass and the strange smells of this land. A pretty filly and her friends enjoy the cakes with some kind of dripping, honey-colored sauce, a hint of rose intermingling with the hot cake. He grins and winks at the girls, who giggle and look at the ground and each other. Toro says to the man, ”I’ll take one.”

this is between "shine bright like a--" and the next day. all welcome <3 

"What I say,"

What I think,
credit
plotter
tracker
please always tag the character for replies


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Elif — Day Court Citizen Signos: 600
▶ Played by griffin [PM] Posts: 19 — Threads: 4
▶ Female [Female [She/Her/Hers]] Hth: 9 — Atk: 11 — Exp: 10
▶ 3 [Year 499 Fall] Active Magic: Wind Manipulation
▶ 14.1 hh Bonded: N/A
#2

elif



She winds through the streets of Solterra with all the ease and familiarity of a hawk riding a thermal, but there is nothing predatory about Elif at the moment.

The pegasus, too, has been swept up in the excitement, burning through the court like a fire, like the idea of it alone might be enough to melt the snow. A hunt with Solis himself - and the thought that he had been here, present, is enough to make her thrill like a girl even though she hadn’t been present.

The streets today have a festival air. All that is left of the stores are on offer; few are worried about tomorrow, now their god is on their side. Around her music rises and the wind carries the beloved scents of her home, a stark overlay on the clean cold smell of snow.

She is drawn to the sight of the stallion as much as the scent of the stand he’s at - the swagger of him, the gleam of his horns, the healing slash along his flank. The net of gemstones draped across his hindquarters gleams like his eyes, and her curiosity and her hunger are both so very alive.

“Make it two,” she says as she draws next to him, and then flicks her gaze between the girls (one of whom she knows, and thinks a silly, vapid thing) and the big white stallion, standing proud as Solis himself. “I hope I’m not interrupting,” she adds, aiming for wryness but falling more sharp.

Elif has never been as deft and nimble with her words as she has her wings.




@El Toro

“Do not be afraid to bare your teeth -”





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Caine — Day Court Scholar Signos: 65
▶ Played by rallidae [PM] Posts: 20 — Threads: 1
▶ Male [He/Him/His] Hth: 8 — Atk: 12 — Exp: 13
▶ 5 [Year 498 Summer] Active Magic: Dream Illusion
▶ 17 hh Bonded: N/A
#3






i have made the obscene decision
to do something unforgivable.

T
he Illusionist steps out from the darkness of Solterra’s (recently rebuilt) library and shivers. He is not made for the cold.

A month of snow and ice — in the desert, of all places — has chilled Caine’s perpetually frigid mood to something so terrible and absolute, the citadel’s aging librarian had wondered, once, if the scowl had simply frozen solid along the boy’s obsidian maw. 

It could’ve, for all Caine cares. 

Scrunching his woolen cloak tighter against him, he glares into the frosted afternoon sun and watches in silence as his breath fogs into steam in front of him, a cloud of white against a sea of blasted snow. 

Never, in all his years, has Caine wished so desperately for one thing, and one thing only: everlasting warmth

Begrudgingly, he navigates through the icy streets, each footfall a rebellion against whatever madness the gods had released upon the land. He has heard the rumors. The gods are at fault - they are always at fault. Vectaeryn, Novus — the only similarity among the divine, Caine thinks, is their unsatiatable lust for chaos. 

The market gleams hazily in front of him as he nears, slivers of smoke curling into the sky from the bonfires blazing merrily in the square. 

They have acclimated, the Solterrans. A people of the sun and sand, and here they are, bustling like ants among the punishing frost. Their defiance cheers him, just slightly. The impending Hunt has raised everyone’s spirits, it seems, for the streets are more crowded than Caine has seen in weeks. He never used to care for being in a throng of bodies, but now he relishes the heat they provide.

His black scowl lightens, just slightly. 

The aroma is what draws him to them. Griddle cakes — is that what they call them? — flip lazily in the air, once, twice. Golden and honey-drenched and warm. He watches jealously, a raven in the shadows, as the white stallion brings one to his mouth, and the dark mare following suit. Swiftly, he draws a coin from the depths of his cloak and approaches the booth. 

“I’ll take one as well.” The old man beams at his patronage, and Caine gives a cool nod of acknowledgement. As he waits for the cakes to finish, thanking (not the gods, he hates the gods) the stars that the sizzling of the grill muffles the growling of his stomach, his silver gaze sweeps, cautious yet curious, towards the others. 

“A festive day today, isn’t it?” He offers, not quite smiling, but he is pleasant enough. He will be more pleasant when he sinks his teeth into that warm, oozing cake. “The hunt has worked all of Solterra into a tizzy. Not that I blame them.”



@El Toro @Elif | "speaks" | notes: caine loves griddle cakes more than he wants to admit
rallidae
[Image: caine_headshot_alittlefancy_by_siliencely-dc67lo4.png]

I HAVE MADE THE OBSCENE DECISION 
to do something unforgivable.
♠︎ ♣︎ ♥︎

please tag in posts, contact encouraged


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El Toro — Day Court Soldier Signos: 5
▶ Played by Muirgen [PM] Posts: 50 — Threads: 9
▶ Male [He/Him/His] Hth: 7 — Atk: 13 — Exp: 14
▶ 7 [Year 496 Summer] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 17.2 hh Bonded: N/A
#4
OH, TO BE HERE ON THE GROUND

He is too busy with the girls and the hot cake to see the pegasus, at first, but then she is there, speaking, and his ears shift at the sound of a filly’s voice and then his eyes; she is wings. El Toro’s stomach writhes into something venomous on instinct, he can’t help it, they’re always here, always in his space and between his teeth he grits, ”Hardly,” and he is certain it is the most diplomatic thing he has ever said to a pegasus since his red love.

And then there is another one. Black and nearly as tall, they are two sides of a poorly made coin. Well. Toro is the good side. Alabaster and ebony, land-bound and bird-winged. Horns and dark flesh. He takes a bite out of his griddle cake, slowly, mechanically, and the girls drift away without him. He very much wants to leave, spirits gone from high to low in the flip of a hotcake but the fire still burns in him from earlier, only now it has gone blue and frostbitten, like the burn of cold, itching skin. A drop of warm rose honey slips down his chin and blip - it has gone to the ground.

”A festive day today, isn’t it?” El Toro is silent. ”The hunt has worked all of Solterra into a tizzy. Not that I blame them.”

Opal eyes cracked with lightning fire are trained on this black creature. Near nose to nose. Toro is taller. Toro is taller. I am taller.

”Yeah, well, the cold is something. He takes another bite out of the hotcake though he wants to slam it to the ground. He thinks he might.

@Elif @Caine The Smell of Blood

"What I say,"

What I think,
credit
plotter
tracker
please always tag the character for replies


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Elif — Day Court Citizen Signos: 600
▶ Played by griffin [PM] Posts: 19 — Threads: 4
▶ Female [Female [She/Her/Hers]] Hth: 9 — Atk: 11 — Exp: 10
▶ 3 [Year 499 Fall] Active Magic: Wind Manipulation
▶ 14.1 hh Bonded: N/A
#5

elif



The bull-horned man’s response to her is more biting than her own, but Elif does not mind too much; she had interrupted him, she supposed, both in ordering and in watching that silly gaggle of mares. She is about to say something kinder, something that he would know she means is an apology - but then another stranger arrives, one who automatically eclipses her interest in the first.

For he is black, and tall, and cruel-looking, and wears not just one pair of wings but two.

When he leans in, when her eye first catches him, her first instinct is to smile blandly, pleasantly. But when her leaf-green gaze sweeps over him, she almost drops her own hotcake. How tall he is, how cool his silver eyes, how dark-velvet his voice - it is not difficult for Elif to picture him with blood on his hands, except perhaps for how neat his appearance is. Suddenly her heart is a bird’s against her ribs, and the honey-sweet taste in her mouth is more like sand.

He speaks of the hunt, and the pale man of the cold, and ordinarily Elif would be able to tell how stiff and uncomfortable they each are. But she is lost in her own suspicion. “Solis will help us end it,” she says simply, and at least she is sure about that.

It is not Elif’s way to be tactful, or sly, or use clever words to learn things when blunt ones rise so quickly to her tongue. But both the stallions are huge, towering above her and casting her own shape in shadow, and the cakes are warm on her tongue and in her belly, and now is not the time to be strong-headed. (She can almost hear her mother in her head, admonishing her, though this does little to make her want to act a lady).

So she tries, when she speaks, to be friendly and nonchalant - maybe flirtatious, like the young mares who are now surely rethinking taking their leave, with two strangers so tall and handsome (never mind Elif caught between them like a stubborn burr). But all she wants to know is if the black stranger is Solterran, if he has been here long - long enough to be involved in the black market, long enough to murder her brother.

“Are you travelers that the blizzard has grounded here? I’ve not seen either of you before,” she says, and only just keeps it from sounding like an accusation instead of what she had intended.

Maybe another bite of the cake and the honey would sweeten her words, her voice, her suspicions - she tries it, just in case. But when she glances back at the black pegasus, her eyes still carry all the heat of summer grasses about to catch and burn.  





@El Toro @Caine

The most awkward threesome ever

“Do not be afraid to bare your teeth -”





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