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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 - just the color, just the shape;
Amaroq — Night Court Citizen Signos: 240
▶ Played by griffin [PM] Posts: 3 — Threads: 2
▶ Male [He/Him/His] Hth: 10 — Atk: 10 — Exp: 10
▶ 8 [Year 495 Summer] Active Magic: Ice Manipulation
▶ 17 hh Bonded: N/A
#1

in his own country
Death can be kind


He waits within the thrashing sea. 

Amaroq is a shadow in the deeper colors of the night, almost invisible against the whitecaps that race to thrust themselves against the shore. The silver flecks across his withers might be nothing more than moonlight, his pale hair only trailing eelgrass far beneath the surface. 

The hunger in his eyes is the liveliest thing about him. But for it he might be flotsam washed from some distant wreck, unremarkable. Except, that is, for the wrongness of his color, and the frigid sea around him when all the saltwater should be warm with summer. There is no mistaking him in this landscape, as unnatural as a polar bear in a pine forest. That is why he waits well beyond the breakers. 

He has been watching the citadel. Amaroq has never seen anything like it, those sheer walls of bleached stone, set with lanterns like eyes aglow. He has never seen anything like the scale of the docks, the number of horses and the clamor they make. He wonders how soft they are. 

For now they are too many, and he alone, weary and thin from his weeks of swimming. There had been no moonlight when he began; the ice was thin and splintered and the sun did not set for days. Now there are stars above him again, cold as the pinpricks of his eyes, unblinking as he dips below the surface smooth as a seal and vanishes from view. 

It is cool beneath the waves. In the darkness of the summer sea he returns to the island south of the city, where he has made his temporary home. It is thick with silver-barked oak and they watch like sentinels as he steps from the sea, streaming with water, his breath spilling cold silver into the air. His horn juts from his brow like a mast of bone. 

Amaroq paces like a tiger down the shore, his prints crackling into frost and rime on the sand. His tail lashes behind him, and his eyes do not leave the shining city on the distant shore. 




ooc: to any interested he's on the big island south of Denocte here map!

amaroq



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Isra — Night Court Sovereign Signos: 1,645
▶ Played by nestle [PM] Posts: 152 — Threads: 21
▶ Female [she/her/hers] Hth: 20 — Atk: 20 — Exp: 33
▶ 5 [Year 497 Winter] Active Magic: Transformation
▶ 15.1 hh Bonded: Fable (Sea Dragon)
#2
Isra of the dark surf

"Night poured itself down my throat. Night was my wine and my meat."



This is the first night that Isra has felt brave enough to return to the waves. Perhaps it's the blackness of the sky that soothes her, the way the waves seem flat and icy and nothing like tidal waves. Perhaps it's nothing more than remembering how the sea gave her both new skin and a dragon.

There is no fear in her as she walks past the shore into the gaping blackness of where the world is broken up by the ocean.

Tonight, as she wades out into the shallow water of low tide, Isra feels more like a wild beast of the sea than a unicorn. Each of her steps is nothing more than a whispering song of bone, surf and sand. Her body is nothing more than a place in the night that seems thicker than the shadows and mist floating around her.

The sea feels cool against her skin and all she's happy to replace the sweat of the summer with the salt-water and brine. Fable with his belly already half full of fish starts to hum a low screeching sound (like a songbird who hasn't yet learned to sing). He dances through the darkness as if he's no longer a dragon but a shadow slipping through the almost moonless night.

Find me. He teases, dashing above Isra's head and snapping his tail gently across her back like a crop. Further out another screeching him echoes strangely in the empty silence of the almost revealed sandbar. If you can.

Isra's laughter is bright enough to be a moon when she kicks up her heels and splashes recklessly through the salt-water. Each step makes the water deep and cooler and soon she's swimming like a seal through the waves, her head held as high above the waves as she can manage so she doesn't loose track of Fable's poor song. Surely, she thinks, nothing is foolish enough to challenge a dragon of the sea.

In the darkness she never notices that each molecule of salt that brushes against her skin turns to glittering specks of silver and gold.

Soon the waves calm again and the bottom of the sea slopes upwards instead of down. Fable dives low and nips at her horn (the only part of her that gleams in the little light there is). “Pesky dragon.” The words are too loving to be harsh and they are quickly drowned out by the hiss of sand as she starts to gallop across the island shore.

All she notices is the place where the darkness gathers and seems blacker underneath Fable's wings. She never notices the frosted hoof prints that she's running across or the way something ahead flashes white like a sword.

Isra never notices him at all. Fable does though, and his playing hum turns to a low hiss as he lands between the stallion and the unicorn.

Neither of them expected to find anything but birds and sea and sand tonight.




@Amaroq


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Amaroq — Night Court Citizen Signos: 240
▶ Played by griffin [PM] Posts: 3 — Threads: 2
▶ Male [He/Him/His] Hth: 10 — Atk: 10 — Exp: 10
▶ 8 [Year 495 Summer] Active Magic: Ice Manipulation
▶ 17 hh Bonded: N/A
#3

in his own country
Death can be kind


He had intended to hunt, once the little jut of beach grew accustomed to his presence, once the seals chanced to come near shore again.

But his prints hadn’t even been smoothed away by the surf when the screech of a dragon silences the night-birds and scatters the fish. Amaroq turns his ears back, wary, the tip of his long horn trembling like a spear-tip as he looks out across the waves. He sees nothing but the barest impression of light on the water, touching the crests of the water like a blessing. The kelpie begins to turn away again, to melt like snow into the trees, but the bright silver sound of laughter stops him.

Now he is tense as a wolf near a homestead, except for the tail-tip that twists patterns in the sand. Amaroq considers his three choices - the sea and the trees and the ground he stands on - and settles his weight back on his haunches, and watches the unicorn gallop onto the shore.

For a second (a second that at once seizes him, and frees his heart to wild beating) he thinks that she is a kelpie, too. How surely she surges from the sea! How loving is the spray that follows her, and races up the sand that it might touch her!

Of course she is not, and grief and anger mingle and pierce his heart like a shard of glass, a sliver of ice. It is not the first such wound.

None of it passes across his frozen features - not a flicker in his pale eyes, his wolf’s mouth.

The tip of his horn follows the course of the little dragon as it settles between the two unicorns; it dips in greeting or warning or simple acknowledgement at the hiss. The sound is like a crackling fire, like embers doused by the sea. When Amaroq’s gaze lifts from the beast and to its companion, his gaze is cool.y assessing. He waits to be seen by her, and licks his teeth as he does, imagining drinking the saltwater from her skin.

At last his gaze catches hers, and he inclines his head curtly, though his eyes never leave her. “Lady,” he says, in a voice like snow beneath the midnight moon. His accent is thick with frost, sharp and brittle as an icicle. “What city is that, upon the hill?”



@Isra

amaroq



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Isra — Night Court Sovereign Signos: 1,645
▶ Played by nestle [PM] Posts: 152 — Threads: 21
▶ Female [she/her/hers] Hth: 20 — Atk: 20 — Exp: 33
▶ 5 [Year 497 Winter] Active Magic: Transformation
▶ 15.1 hh Bonded: Fable (Sea Dragon)
#4
Isra who bares her teeth and snarls

“She said you’d come and I swore to eat your heart.”



Isra, at first, sees only a unicorn glimmering like ice in the moonlight. She sees only the whiteness of his tail twisting like a cat's in the sand. The first through that crosses her mind is, oh, I bet he knows how to wield his horn better than I. Her second is, I wonder if it aches sometimes as mine is oft to?. It takes watching to dip of it tracing out the lines of her young dragon to turn all the questions burning on her tongue to dust.

Fable, on the other hand, does not see a unicorn shining like a star in the gloom of the blackness. He sees a bestial nature lurking beneath seal-skin, one that echoes the bits and pieces of the predator laying dormant and quiet under his scales.  There is in his gaze, when he looks at the unicorn who is not-a-unicorn, a challenge befitting an creature that is destined to be the apex-predator of the Novus seas.

But of course he shares nothing of this with Isra. Fable only snakes his head back and forth and tries to shed his tameness like outgrown snake-skin.

The night queen watches him with something near horror in her gaze and she moves closer to press her lips against cool, salted scale. Enough. It's the coldest thing she's ever said to him and that alone chills the feverish challenge in his green eyes.

Isra continues on past him until she's close enough to count the number of dark dapples on the unicorn's skin and the number of times his horn spirals around and around. She smiles and her teeth shine flat and neat in the silver-light. Her own head echoes his slow nod and she's glad as she still remembers the last stallion she met on a dark night for the horn on her brow and the dragon at her back.

But then he speaks before her and she catches the flash on a fang against his lips and all her easiness dissolves like smoke on the wind. The color of her eyes darkens  to something like the bottom of a wave on a new moon.

Isra doesn't need to look to know what city shines bright golden on the hill as if a million stars and fires have gathered into one tiny universe. She refuses to look anywhere but at the curl of his neck and the point of her horn and she's ready, ready, ready. Although she doesn't know what exactly it is that she's ready for).

“Mine.” She almost growls and almost finds it in her regret the cold fury that still lingers in her heart. Almost.

It's a challenge for her to swallow down that fury and pretend that she's not a wolf baring her teeth at at bear. It costs her but she manages to blink back a little of the darkness in her gaze. “That city is mine.” The sand around her hooves evens out and turns to glass blacker than space. When she takes a step closer it groans and cracks in strange spiraling shapes that fill with pearl dust. “Who are you?”  And at last she finally manages to sound civil by reminding herself that she's not a weapon of war (no matter how much she's starting to crave it when faced with fanged creatures).




@Amaroq


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