an equine & cervidae rpg
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Novus closed 10/31/2022, after The Gentle Exodus
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9 [Year 502 Spring]








Andalusian x Paso Fino


16.2 hh







Last Visit:

10-31-2022, 12:47 PM




320 (Donate)

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Alecto Vermillio Raptis

And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great, starry

h, they call him a god, they call him divine. He swallowed a galaxy and wore it as a skin, he stripped the sky of its stars and planted them in as diamonds. Look, look upon the flesh of man, of beast, of something smoother than silk that moves like the night moves - carefully, softly, through your life without ever knowing it has come and gone. Alecto. Paint him as your idol, picture him as the face of your tragedy. For he is tragic. And lovely. And sin wrapped in supple flesh that ripples like a lion every time he moves.

One step. Two. It’s hard to look away from a living tapestry when it begs and begs and begs you to come closer, to come touch and feel and live the way he only knows how to live: fully. Bursting from his seams, overflowing with savage confidence, with suave grace, doubt can’t hold a candle to his flame. There is only Alecto and the beating of your heart. One, two, three. It’s thundering louder, louder than the gentle fall of gold-clad feet that would come nearer, nearer still.

Don’t come so close, don’t get trapped when he grins that little grin of inky black and golden starlight. Don’t fall into those molten gold eyes. No one makes it out in the end, no one survives when a hurricane hits. And he is a hurricane. Utterly beautiful, completely terrifying. Alecto, in all his midnight glory, is a sun exploding; you can’t look away, but you can’t stare without being pulled into his black hole. Are you ready to fall?

One, two three. All it takes is three seconds to think you love him. All it takes is one for him to butcher you alive. You might as well have been skewered on his golden antlers, placed as another trophy, another broken heart, in the backdrop of his stall.

Please, please don’t stay. Please, please go before you, too, are lost to his cosmic touch.

likeness, image of
felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,

charismatic - honest - observant - crafty
rebellious - selective - competent - apathetic

By day he wishes he were stalks of wheat because then the world would pass through him and he could kiss their legs and kiss their eyes and tell them it is okay to rest their head upon him. By night he knows he is a wolf and hungers for the taste of blood like he yearns for cobwebs to be brushed from his sister's grave and her hair of gold to be plaited in ribbons and spun in pearls once more.

Alecto is an enigma full of blight, full of wonder. He hides as much as he shows and there is a galaxy of him to unravel. Words are paintings from his lips, made into great feats of art posted up in galleries around the globe, they never are quite truthful and oh - you'll ache to believe him the way that you know the sun will rise each morning - it is a terrible thing to love someone that doesn't quite know how to love you. Such is a topic he won't broach, he won't whisper, he won't kiss. He'll tell you that he loves Tienar about as much as he can love anything; that is, he loves Tienar both completely and not at all. After all, he wonders, how can you love something you've never known?

It's like marrying a storm without ever tasting its rain. Improbable. Impossible.

So he slides around the topic in favor of the color of your eyes, in favor of a topic other than himself. It's so rare to find the storyteller telling you of his story. Then again, everything he says sounds like honey in your morning coffee and melts just as quickly in your ears. It's easy to get lost in the way he pulls you near, in the way he winds a new necklace over your throat like a lover's hand or a vice to strangle you with. Either way, you wouldn't mind because it's him putting it there. It's Alecto, with his silver tongue and sharp eyes that twinkle and make you laugh.

When he's near, anything seems possible - everything seems possible. He'll tell you the world is yours, all you've got to do is take it. He'll tell you the first step is the hardest and he knows - oh gods he knows because he's taken it, too. And this world, he won't tell you, is his. By night, when his fangs are bared in that roguish grin, he dangles it on a string and watches it spin; by night, when his eyes are brightest and he looks most like a god, he sits back and watches as all their feet stomp to the chiming of his flute.

As much a monster as he is your prince, he loves to stay, but oh, he loves so, so, so much more to go. And he will. And he does.

He's forgotten home, he lost it too long ago to remember what it feels like anymore.

I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.

[ You look at him, wide-eyed, stars dancing as they do on his skin, and you wonder where the world finds someone so full of stories. If you were braver, you'd squeak out a question. Instead, you just lean closer and closer until you can smell the mint of his skin, see the gold of his eyes as they dance like moonlight when they turn to you.

You sigh, letting out a breath you never knew you were holding, when his honey-soft voice leaks out, out, out into your world like a song in the night. ]

Alecto Vermillio Raptis is as much an enigma as a woman's mind. It is hard to read him, to pin him down, or predict exactly what it is he'll do next. His future, much like his past, is veiled in intrigue, mystery, and shadow. Creep closer now, lean in, listen close, for once in a great, great while he'll open up, he'll whisper sweetly between the sheets of his home, of the way he chased fire through the skies and found himself here, and of the gossip, the mystery that still begs his lips to be still, that still is found at the corner of his mouth when he pulls it into that smile again.

Some, before, would call him a grinning fool, and perhaps he still looks the part. A salesman must always wear a smile, but he'd much prefer you wear the cloth from his stall. After all, he's worked hard to bring it so far, he's toiled and troubled and fretted for mile after mile, galaxy after galaxy, island after island, just to settle down among the stalls of Denocte and spin stories great and small of his adventures, of the joy and beauty your new scarf or hat or blanket should bring. Perhaps, he'd ask, you're looking for something to catch the eye of a pretty girl or boy? (Of course, of course, you've already caught his, and he'll remind you with a wink, with a peck on the cheek as you walk away with more than you really ought to have purchased.)

His home, he'll say between puffs of clouds floating over the sun, was beautiful - still is beautiful, he'll assure you. It is full of kirins, of those beautiful and strong, of people of all castes, talents. His home, he'll never tell you, held his heart so firmly, so fondly, that he's not sure if he'll ever know to love again.

[ You ask him, like the child that you still long to be, what his family was like, what was he when they were around? You want to beg on your knees, to lie your head in his lap and let him pet your hair while he stairs at the smoke from a campfire and reminisces.

You know you'll be lucky if he'll tell you. Still, you've stayed this long, you might as well stay just a bit longer, long enough to know more... You're always so hungry for his words after the sun goes down. ]

There's a sigh, a puff of breath when the chill sets in, and Alecto looks far off into the distance, into another time. Oh, he won't tell you of his father - a noble of Varan with a chip of their shoulder. His father always told him he wasn't quite up to snuff, to stop dicking around, to get back in the house to learn the family business. What he really meant was that he wasn't quite snobbish enough, wasn't quite enough of a prick to fit in and survive in a world of sharks.

What he'll tell you is that he was his family's greatest disappointment.

Alecto always went out later than he should have, into the bowels of Varan where things that a boy should never see were seen, where he learned how to take care of himself and conduct business in a manner that most certainly was not fitting for his family. In a way, it became his home, and then he outgrew it, too. His father, utterly disappointed, eventually refused to even acknowledge Alecto's existence.

Of course, he can't tell you this. He won't. He'll tell you he was the apple of his mother's eye, obviously, and that his sisters were all darlings. You'd love to meet them someday, you'd be more than delighted. Alecto spoiled them rotten...

But that's all in the past.
Everything is.

[ You watch as dawn creeps closer, your hair in elaborate braids you've never seen, a new scarf draped over your shoulders to keep you warm. Sometime during the night you fell asleep to the lulling sound of his voice, to the cool caress of his hands along your scalp.

Looking around, it's hard to believe that he's disappeared, vanishing with the night again... He always seems to do this. But he'll be back again with the falling of the sun. ]

Active & Parvus Magic

Passive Magic

Bonded & Pets

Armor, Outfit, and Accessories

Small Accessories:
- One ring he wears on a necklace about his throat with a dragon's eye stone at the center.
- One flute who knows where he keeps it though.

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Played by:

e-cho (PM Player)


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09/17/20 Character application accepted; +20 signos for visual reference. -SID