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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

Private - put an axe in my baby's head
Apolonia — Day Court Youth Signos: 665
▶ Played by RB [pm] Posts: 18 — Threads: 4
▶ Female [She/Her/Hers] Hth: 10 — Atk: 10 — Exp: 10
▶ 1 [Year 502 Spring] Active Magic: Perception Manipulation
▶ 15.1 hh Bonded: N/A
#1


I'M GONNA DO TIME BUT SHE LOOKS GOOD IN RED -
[Image: apolonia_by_erasvita_dcmlqry_by_beccazw-dcnhnsj.png]


The night outside is soft and cool, and Apolonia sheds it as soon as she steps inside the keep, overwhelmed by the bodies, the music, the warmth.

She is in a room that sparkles everywhere she looks. Blown-glass balls, overflowing with baby’s breath, hang from the ceiling and shed glittering light on the bardiglio floor. Curled ribbons woven from scarlet and gold drape staircases and marble pillars. A violin, a string quartet, wails a bright, sad song from somewhere Apolonia can’t quite see the source of the noise, and it’s that hot whine that plays and rattles in her ear as she drifts to the table of masks and picks one up.

It is a delicate thing, carved from opal, that shimmers and twists in the waning light. It might be gold, it might be silver - Apolonia thinks it might be different depending on which angle you see it from, how much you’ve had to drink. A delicate rose gold filigree lines the outside of the mask, studded in places with black feathers, and from the bottom drip a line of white diamonds that make a carpet, a curtain against her jaw and high cheekbones. She lays it against her forehead, where it covers her third eye easily, and disappears into the crowd of people.

She is slim and fits easily into the packed room, wearing her way like a silverfish through groups of dancers, poets mumbling under their breath, couples pressed up against the walls. She wonders vaguely if her father is here, and what he would think of her like this - pretending to be Decoction, pretending to belong.
 


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Veer — Day Court Soldier Signos: 690
▶ Played by nestle [PM] Posts: 20 — Threads: 1
▶ Male [He/Him/His] Hth: 10 — Atk: 10 — Exp: 10
▶ 6 [Year 497 Summer] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 17.2 hh Bonded: Najjad (Gryphon)
#2
the divine beasts
"It will stop your breath, how cruel I can be."


The mask Veer chooses is simple only in that is it made with only two things-- ore and diamonds. It was of course both the brightest and most simply made mask on the table. He chooses it because tonight he wishes to seem gaudy and shallow, another easy mark for smugglers and crows to look at and whisper to each other, that one, he seems rich and foolish enough to steal from.

Because at night, he knows, it's so easy to want to dissolve into the shadows and rise as something too violent and feral for walls and glittering orbs full of flowers. And so he dawns the mask with a smile and is careful to walk only in the places where the light reflects from the walls like star-shine and is softer than moonlight.

Perhaps that is why he notices Apolonia right away, for the way she moves between the others, like a fish instead of a shark. Veer, of course, knows who her mother is and remembers from the hunt that she could move like a shark if she wanted too. The memory of it makes him smile still. He was young and hungry once.

Now he's only hungry.

The tides of horses part before him (mostly though it's for Najjad who walks fearlessly between the horses and snaps at their tails just because he can). Their eyes catch on him and if they whisper anything at all he's glad to hear it, gladder still to make a secret note of those who whisper dark intents. Later. Veer promises Najjad as the gryphon flicks his feathers restlessly, Later I will let you lead me to them.

“You shouldn't try to blend in so.” He whispers (like a subconscious devil) when he's close enough to lower his lips towards her ear. “You are no more a star than I am a moon.” His smile is bright and dangerous and it glows between his dark lips like a sickle moon.

We are made to be golden. That almost sinister smile seems to say as it reaches up to crease the skin around his golden eyes (that catch the glittering diamond light). Deep in that tunnel between then Najjad adds, golden things are made to burn.

At his side his feathers rustle louder than any whispered secrets in the entire room. Even the soft violin seems like a breeze underneath the sound of his wings.


@Apolonia


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Apolonia — Day Court Youth Signos: 665
▶ Played by RB [pm] Posts: 18 — Threads: 4
▶ Female [She/Her/Hers] Hth: 10 — Atk: 10 — Exp: 10
▶ 1 [Year 502 Spring] Active Magic: Perception Manipulation
▶ 15.1 hh Bonded: N/A
#3


I'M GONNA DO TIME BUT SHE LOOKS GOOD IN RED -
[Image: apolonia_by_erasvita_dcmlqry_by_beccazw-dcnhnsj.png]

She feels his presence in the room like a rabbit feels a fox. Pure lucid evil.

They have crossed paths before. At the hunt, where he circled above in the hungry halos of a vulture; sometimes in passing throughout Solterra, brushing through the markets, the inner court, never exchanging more than a glance or a greeting. He has never quite made her feel safe. Something about how tall he towers over her or the heat in the gold of his eyes.

But Apolonia is more gun than girl and she makes herself feel safe when needed.

Over the heads of the crowd she sees the dark shine of Veer’s wings and the handsome curve of his head and slips her hurlbat from her sheath as easily as she would take a step or calculate a strike. There is no effort in it. There is no pause in her stride and no faltering in the path she marks. The weapon comes out smooth as water, twirls in a gentle circle at her side in a motion she’s practiced a million times before. She pulls her shoulders in, narrower and narrower until she might very well be a ghost, and watches carefully as he comes up next to her. 

When he speaks she can’t help but grin a little, a bright dead thing.

Moon you aren’t, she answers dryly, and turns her eyes up to him with a look of wan disport. The dark lashes flutter like butterfly wings. Under the white opal of the mask and the dim light sighing down from overhead her gaze is a million meters deep - might be blue, might be yellow, might be black and totally endless. Maybe a black hole? 

Her expression falls again to stone, though there is something easy about it, almost relaxed. She spins the hurlbat at her side like the orbit of a little sun and it cuts through the air with the casual sound of warning.
 


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Veer — Day Court Soldier Signos: 690
▶ Played by nestle [PM] Posts: 20 — Threads: 1
▶ Male [He/Him/His] Hth: 10 — Atk: 10 — Exp: 10
▶ 6 [Year 497 Summer] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 17.2 hh Bonded: Najjad (Gryphon)
#4


veer
It will stop your breath, how cruel I can be.
But you understand, don’t you?


V
eer watches her come alive and bare her metaphorical teeth at him, and something in him grows dark and almost bitter. Beneath all his glitter and gold he feels like a wolf who has just discovered that all the rabbits in the world have shriveled up and died. Najjad growls low as the strange feeling spirals between them and the rumble echoes like a storm in the hollows of his beak.

He tries to swallow it down and smile as wickedly as the world expects a god to smile.

“I'm not in the habit of gutting children.” There's something uneasy in the way he settles his feathers at his side and the way his eyes shift darkly behind his mask. It's as if he's trying to whittle down the sharpest of his edges to something only as dangerous as the dull  blade of a well used guillotine. “But perhaps,” His molten gaze catches on the closeness of her shoulders and then the steady whirl of the bat her side. “you are in the habit of bashing in the skulls of men.”.

When he laughs then it falls like a taunt and echoes sharply in the hall. Around them a few eyes snag on the golden stallion covered in jewels and he smiles at those wandering gazes (of course they stare at a universe of a stallion).

Veer is not a bright dead thing. He is brightest of all the living things-- brighter than a deity and their ancient religions.

But she is a clever girl, and he smiles to see something dangerous spark behind her mask. A stone, he knows, is a deadly thing when it's wielded like a blunt, heavy blade. “Care for a drink?” Each of his teeth flash like diamonds in his smile when he flicks his tail towards the table piled with sweets and drinks that surely, by now, have been spiked.

“Or are you afraid of where a black hole might lead if you were foolish enough to fall into one?” Veer can't help but want to see how sharp the edges of all her cold stone could be.


@Apolonia | "speaks" | notes: <3
rallidae


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Apolonia — Day Court Youth Signos: 665
▶ Played by RB [pm] Posts: 18 — Threads: 4
▶ Female [She/Her/Hers] Hth: 10 — Atk: 10 — Exp: 10
▶ 1 [Year 502 Spring] Active Magic: Perception Manipulation
▶ 15.1 hh Bonded: N/A
#5


I'M GONNA DO TIME BUT SHE LOOKS GOOD IN RED -
[Image: apolonia_by_erasvita_dcmlqry_by_beccazw-dcnhnsj.png]

O’s gaze on Veer is as easy as it is unimpressed. 

She was not raised to be afraid of men, tall and dark and overbearing though they might be.

She watches him with heavy lids and a smile so faint it is almost phantom riding over the soot of her lips, directed mostly to the gryphon at his side - it could be said she is more interested in him than in Veer, how he sparkles in the dim light, the sharp curve of his beak. It reminds her a little of the honed edge of her own blade. Not bash, she corrects him, and tilts her head, dog-like.

An empty space follows where she could announce any sort of phrase - something to make him laugh, or a more truthful telling of how she would take him apart, not with clubs and rocks but with the discipline and exactness of a surgeon - but instead her smile widens slightly, and the glimmer in her eyes flares to a peak, and she only watches him with a little more humor.

His laugh almost matches the way mirth glitters like mica against the mottled blue-yellow of her gaze, but not quite. 

A drink, O repeats. She is not quite foolish enough to expect that it could really be just a drink. You forget my age. It seems stupid, improbable, even, that a girl with all her sharp teeth and edges could still be young enough to find herself incapacitated by a drink, but the truth is that she is still a child, nevermind all the ways O fights against the ministrations of her youth.

And even if she weren’t a child, she would not be foolish enough to take a drink from the likes of him.

 


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