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Current Novus date and time is

▶ Year || 503
▶ Season || Spring
▶ Temp || 43℉ (8℃) - 70℉ (21℃)
▶ Weather || The weather radar really does seem to be off the charts lately...
I wonder what's going on? (#15-19)


Character of the Season

Member of the Season

Thread of the Season
A land of absence
and root and stone

Pair of the Season
Bexley and Acton

Quote of the Season
"And all the while her mind, her blood, her fierce and fearless heart was singing, singing, singing." — Shrike in We're under attack!

see here for nominations


Private - Wind and Water
Vadim — Inactive Character Signos: 205
▶ Played by Rien [pm] Posts: 44 — Threads: 4
▶ [Male [He/Him/His]] Hth: 13 — Atk: 7 — Exp: 10
▶ 5 [Year 497 Summer] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 15hh hh Bonded: N/A
The hypocrisy rankles him, deep in his bones and his soul.  Though she says nothing, the coldness in her glacial eyes speak volumes.  The silence stretches between them.  He is not a stranger to the harshness of the world and yet... there is a foundation of his world that people are good.  Perhaps it is this lack of cynicism that has left him on the outskirts of the court.  He has known famine and drought and sickness.  He has never known war.  He has never known the intricate games of intrigue that some play.  The only comfort he finds is the sun hot on his back and the fingers of the breeze that tugs the strands of his salt-white tail and stirs the sand around his hooves.  That, at least, is always there.  Regardless of where he has traveled the wind has been there.  Ever changing, flavored by the land it passes over and the people who breathe it, but there.  And it still lends him wings when he runs.

For all her harshness, Bexley has answered every question he's asked- even if he has not always liked or understood the answers.  His head is heavy with the weight of thought, tamping down the urge to question and question again.  His eager curiosity now overwhelmed by the need to reflect and analyze.  One hoof lifts, then sets again on the sand.  He is still uneasy but then is he ever at rest?

"Thank you."  He hesitates, searching for the right words.  He doesn't have them.  How does he express the value of this speech between them?  It is as though she has put cracks in the walls that keep him from truly feeling part of the Day Court, given him a keyhole to peer through.  It is not the full picture and he still doesn't have all the pieces, but it is a start.  


Bexley — Day Court Regent Signos: 440
▶ Played by REDANDBLACK [pm] Posts: 233 — Threads: 24
▶ Female [she/her/hers] Hth: 21 — Atk: 19 — Exp: 46
▶ 6 [Year 497 Spring] Active Magic: Light Manipulation
▶ 15.2 hh Bonded: N/A


It doesn’t matter if he likes her answers. And he obviously doesn’t - the strange, aggravated sheen in his eyes, the tension that lines his body, the lift of his hoof only to stamp it down - but Bexley has given him what he has asked for, the truth, unfettered, and what difference does it make if he’s a little disturbed by it? She was at one time, too. 

Don’t thank me, she says, albeit insincerely. It’s basic decency. Not that Bexley has ever been the biggest proprietor of the concept, but there is something that makes her at least feel bad for this man, like she owes him an explanation, a kind of introduction, so his landing here will be a little softer than hers was, cushioned by the knowledge that there is a culture here, a way of life to be respected.

As Bex starts to turn away, she pauses. Something tugs at her chest - as if there is another thing to tell him, more dangers to warn him of - but then she wrinkles her nose and forces herself to ignore it. Good luck, comes that silvery voice, and with that she disappears toward the Day Court, gold melting into gold.

@Vadim we out woohoo


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