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Current Novus date and time is
... currently in progress!

 Year || 503
 Season || Fall
 Temp || 35℉ (℃) - 69℉ (℃)
 Weather || The iron grip of Summer has slowly faded into the gentler Fall embrace. The morning dew frosts over in the early morning hours and melts by the time the sun hits high in the sky. Many of the trees have traded their lush, vivid green for a more suitable array of red and orange hues. But don't blink, for Winter's cold embrace is fast upon Fall's heels.


Character of the Season

Member of the Season

Thread of the Season
r.i.p. to my youth;

Pair of the Season
Atreus and Fiona

Quote of the Season
"Are there lines she's crossing? Should she toe them or touch them with a pole and stay away wholly? But to avoid such a storm he offers, such a taste of life; to withhold herself from the chance to taste starlight, to love satin and silk and swallow pomegranate seeds not yet offered... She should be stronger." — Moira in
Small as a wish in a well

see here for nominations


Inactive Character

The Character


Age: 5 [Year 498 Spring]
Gender: Male
Pronouns: he/him/his
Orientation: Bisexual
Breed: Andalusian
Height: 16 hh
Health: 13
Attack: 7
Experience: 10
Signos: 0 (Donate)

Joined: 03-30-2018
Last Visit: 11-02-2018, 02:02 PM
Total Posts: 8 (Find All Posts)
Total Threads: 2 (Find All Threads)

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There are different names for what Raam is. Shape-shifter, skin walker, metamorph. Upon coming to Novus, his magic and immortality was stripped and he was abruptly returned to the equine body he was born in. He had stopped aging when he turned four and learned to skin walk, but with the loss of his magic the clock has started ticking once again.

His neck, back, and hindquarters are predominantly white, and his legs and belly are mostly black. The two colors meet in smudges, spots, and slurs. Upon this white and black base coat are mottled streaks and patches of brown across his body. Overall it is as though his genes could not quite decide what color to be. There is no distinct pattern to be picked out of the madness of white, brown, and black. Even his mane is a wavy mass of color.

His right eye is grey and his left is half grey and half gold. These colors he carries with him in every body he wears, unlike his skin/coat/fur color which he changes at will- or at least he did before coming to Novus. His gaze is bright and highly expressive; it is the only part of him that betrays his age.

Having spent many lifetimes in different forms, he is relearning how to be a horse. Thus he has some odd quirks and expressions that will fade the longer he spends in Novus.

+ Empathetic
+ Intuitive
+ Charming
+ Cunning
+ Intelligent
+ Protective
- Tempestuous
- Fickle
- Devious
- Stubborn
- Arrogant

"I wish you could live in my brain for a week. It is washed with the most violent waves of emotion"

Raam's emotions are varied and tumultuous as he comes to terms with his lost power. He can be cruel and kind in the same sentence, a whirlwind of rage and beauty and sorrow. This unpredictability can be frustrating- it is impossible to tell what he's going through at any given point, but he's always in some mood or another. His recent loss of magic puts him in a cranky mood most of the time, although that will hopefully fade once he accepts the circumstance he's in. Alternately, his anger and frustration may only fester and grow- it seems only time will tell.

As far as how others perceive him- he sometimes comes across as haughty, as most immortals do. He can be infuriatingly stubborn once he's made up his mind about something (or someone). He is demanding when we wants something, and god damn persistent. But he's got a lot of charm, and can sweet talk his way out of most anything. He can easily read most people- their thoughts, their wants- and often takes advantage of this to get what he wants from a situation. He is highly empathetic yet only opens himself up to a select few. It is a method of self-preservation, as it gets exhausting to outlive your loved ones.

Raam is a very physical creature. He never tires of the pleasures of the body- sexing, running, drinking, fighting, even speaking- for many years now he has not had that pleasure. With his friends he can be especially touchy, and to the ones he values the most he can be possessive.

His understanding of life, after all these centuries, is that it exists only to keep existing. As such, he tends to be very defensive, almost reverent, of women and playfully competitive with other men.

We do it twice a year, when the weather begins to change. I can't describe to you the feeling that tells us to go. It isn't a feeling so much as a sense of being, a state of mind. Like a single creature we rise on black and gold wings. Without knowing where to go, we know where to go.

We are one soul spread across multiple bodies.

- Except I am different.

I don't know how long I have been a plover- We birds don't think much about time. We are born and we die and the space in between is just a pattern. I've raised chicks, taught them the way of being, watched them raise their own and then die. Over and over. None of them are like me; ageless. None of them are like me; skin changers.

There is no one like me.

As we begin our voyage over leagues of ocean, I look for foamy white splashes, the sure sign of whales breaching. Before this body, I was a humpback. Another migratory creature-- I favor those. Their minds are easier to slip into, there are patterns you follow until imitation becomes being. I don't know how long I was a whale- It was very, very long. But the sun and the wind called to me, so after all those years and with a sadness heavier than words I sang a goodbye song to my pod (my friends, my mates, my descendants). You cannot imagine the depth of emotion a cetacean feels. It is why I stayed so long- I could not bear the sorrow of leaving.

But I am bird now, and we do not feel sadness the way whales do. In a sense we are freer for it. I can remember bits of what it felt like, but my current brain and body limit me. The more different a creature is from my current body, the harder it is to remember. Memories of the red-tailed hawk come easily, but land- and ocean-bound memories are like peering through a foggy window.

We are close to land. It is an island- I can see the clouds gather around the mountain at its center. I am disoriented-- we have been flying for two days, and our destination is two more ahead. We have never stopped halfway before. A strange sense of dread comes over me, something foreign, something not of my avian body. It pulls me back, tells me to keep flying, keep flying, keep flying-

But we are birds, one soul. I cannot tear myself from the flock.

I do not want to.

We circle slowly this new land, surveying the lush forests and smooth fields. We will stay here only long enough to rest our bodies. It is a beautiful place but we have not come far enough. This is only temporary.

I watch my brothers and sisters touch down on a long expanse of green grass. One by one they land, one by one until I am the last, circling. I feel cold and shaky, the sense of dread only growing stronger. They peer at me oddly and call to me with encouragement. You are safe here.

I land and my entire body feels like it is shattering. I cry out in pain as my magic surges throughout my small body. I hear myself screaming as plover, then lion, then every creature I have ever been. It is like all of my bodies are being torn apart at the same time. Only later I will realize that they were not torn apart, just torn from me. My gift, unceremoniously ripped away.

And for what?

When I wake I am lying on the ground in a strange body. I stretch my wings and am shocked to find they are not there. I look for my flock with new, weak eyes. They are gone. As I struggle to my feet and realize there is some nagging familiarity about my body. I swat my hindquarters with my tail and the terrible reality smacks me in the face.

This is the body I was born in.

This is the body I have not been to since I came of age and mastered my skills. And for the first time I'm aware, not just my mind but my body now, I'm aware of time passing. I'm aware of aging. I feel claustrophobic and limited and weak, horribly weak. I need to get out but I can't. My magic is gone, just like that.


It must be found.
Active & Parvus Magic

Raam once held the power to shape shift. He also was once immortal. He lost those things when he landed (quite literally) on Novus, and will be seeking to regain his magic until the day he dies.

Passive Magic


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Raam has lived 36 full lives and countless partial lives. I define a full life as one in which he's become so immersed that he has lost himself to the animal. In this state he loses track of time and often stays in that body for longer than that animal's typical lifespan. The longer he stays in his true body, the more he will remember the details of his past lives. As they are remembered, they will be listed below.

00. Horse (Equus ferus caballus)
01-34. To be remembered
35. Humpback Whale (Megaptera novaeangliae)
36. Pacific golden plover (Pluvialis fulva)

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