Posted by: Jericho - 06-05-2018, 02:48 AM - Forum: Archives
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It was early morning, and once again Jericho had shaken off slumber just before dawn to continue exploring the lands surrounding Delumine. Or, in this case, the waters. Since arriving in Novus, the stallion had frequently used the river and the large mountain range as landmarks for navigation. He had yet to explore the latter—he’d climbed enough mountains on his way into Novus to put off that particular adventure for the time being—but the former had caught his attention, and he intended to spend his day charting as much of its course as daylight and distance would allow. As the sun came up, Jericho made his way down to the river, took a luxurious drink, then began to walk south alongside it, keeping the mountains and dense forest to his left.
He had only been walking for an hour when he reached a fork in the river. Standing on the bank, the stallion looked out over the water and weighed his options. At his hooves, one branch of the river swung west, a tumble of rocks and rapids. Given the volume of water, this seemed to be the river’s primary course. The other branch meandered in a general southeastern direction. Compared to the rapids, this option looked positively peaceful. A decent amount of water still flowed down this branch, but it was visibly quieter.
Quiet was fine, Jericho thought, remembering how many times he’d already forged the river and considering the unpleasantness of battling a strong current so early in the morning. He turned back, walking along the edge of the water until he found a calmer place to cross. His hide twitched at the cold that enveloped his body as he sank into the water, and he shivered slightly in the crisp autumn air. Best to get his exploring done before the river became too frigid to swim.
Grimacing, he paddled to the far shore and clambered onto the opposite bank, coat dripping over the smooth river stones. In a bid for warmth, Jericho moved into as brisk a trot as he could manage on the uneven footing and headed for the creek. It was really a shame, he mused, shivering, that Delumine wasn’t bordered by hot springs instead.
Open to all but tagging @Efphion upon request! He’s at the beginning of the creek, right where it splits from the Rapax River.
So little time, and so much to explore! Since his arrival in Delumine, Jericho had taken the opportunity to acquaint himself with the surrounding lands. The place may be a temporary home, but he intended to familiarize himself with as much of it as he could. To be sure, it was a strategic move. He had been trained to approach everything with the eye of a soldier and scouting unknown territory for advantages and hazards was standard protocol. However, he was also a hotblooded young stallion who found it all too easy to respond when adventure called. And if he met a girl along the way, all the better.
This morning, he’d set off towards the east, crossing the river in the misty pre-dawn light and slipping into the dense wood that he’d come to recognize as the border of the court. Noting the craggy mountains in the distance, he’d veered north through the forest, traveling until the trees gradually began to thin and he arrived at the edge of what appeared to be a wide expanse of rolling plains. A soft sigh escaped his lips, an involuntary response to the scene before him.
As he waded into the tall golden grasses, a pang of homesickness flashed somewhere in the stallion’s belly, brought on perhaps by the familiarity of the landscape. It was no mountain valley, but it bore enough superficial similarity to his homeland to remind him of all he had so recently left behind. Or, perhaps it was only hunger, Jericho thought with a wry smile, noting that homesickness had a rather…rumbly quality. He walked further into the open and climbed to the top off a small knoll, giving himself an easy view of any who may approach. Only then did he drop his head and begin to nibble on the last of the late summer grasses.
"speech"
Image Credits || original coding by kaons; modified by shady
The grand keep housed many halls, and many souls. There was always some sort of fray or throng for the Night Court denizens to take part in. There were many who indulged their hedonistic desires, and still, she found the citizens of Denocte to be some of the most respectful. Noctiilucent wandered through one of the many, vast halls within the keep. The stench of smoke wafted through the open air, it had no source that she could place. It hadn't really bothered her any though, she doubted she'd seek it. Noctii listened to her daggers collide with the stone ground, the steady rhythm of her steps soon mesmerized her. It had been awhile since she'd drifted off into a trance that took her back to her homeland. It wasn't that she never thought of Reth, but it was that she rarely thought about the meanings of the events that led her here. The horned minx hadn't realized her gaze had traveled skyward as she moved. She wasn't noticing much of anything anymore.
The steady four-beat rhythm of her walking gait created a gentle song in the background of her thoughts. Her trajectory was not clear to her consciously, but she was drifting toward the collection of books and records that were housed in the library. Noctiilucent breached the doorway, broken from her trance by the change in how the ceiling overhead looked. Her cerulean orbs were momentarily covered by her ash stained lids. A small "oh" escaped from her lips as she realized that she'd just wandered through the keep somewhat recklessly. The minx shook her head as if to dispel what was left of the trance she'd just been in. Noctiilucent moved further into the room, it was dimly lit as dawn had not yet begun. She hadn't realized that the whole night had passed while she wandered the halls aimlessly, and lost in thought. No wonder she hadn't run into anyone.
"Speech"
Notes: Sorry for the awful starter. ;__; I'm struggling with starters rn
Tags: @Aethelind
Words: 324
The stretching horizon wavered beneath the hot, all-consuming rays of the sun. There was not a single trace of any breeze nor was there any signs of approaching storms. Beneath the ruthless heat of the sun, an ash draped minx glided across the dunes of sand. She moved as though she were the fluid the sands had so desperately craved. Effy was born to excel in this type of climate, literally. The Arab descended minx laughed to herself at the thought. She would excel here, especially now that she knew her snake of a sister was here. Travelers passing her had confirmed this to her, and all that was left was for her to join up a kingdom. She'd sought one that boasted the heat of the sun, a replacement for the poor bastards of Reth that cast her out. Next on her list would be to destroy her sister, a traitor of Reth. No matter her feelings for their homeland, she hated her sister far more. At least Effy had been cast out, without a choice. If given a chance, she'd return and claim the throne from the pathetic king that sat upon it. She'd burn Reth to the ground with her fury, and ascend to Goddess of the Sun if she had her way. Xamis could be made to bow, that she was sure of.
As Effy carried on over the hot sands, the sheen of sweat upon her pelt became more pronounced, both in the realm of visibility, and the sensation of a dampness of her pelt upon her ash stained back. The silver that dangled from her neck was nearly hot enough to burn her neck, each lick across her flesh was hot. Each time it danced away, the front of her nape was granted a temporary relief. A mirage-like figure wavered into view as she crested the top of a particularly large dune. She blinked forcefully, the sand tumbling down her face as though they were tears she'd wept as she wandered the barren desert. The image before her steadied, informing her that it was indeed an ancient structure made of stone. A triumphant smile slithered across her carefully etched face. This was what she'd been searching for, despite all the warning's she'd been given by travelers. They didn't believe she'd make it, not knowing the landscape and seemingly appearing weaker than she was to them. Effy was a child of the sun, and she found it laughable that they thought she could not bear its ruthless nature.
Efphion approached a large opening in the wall that she assumed was the entrance. The walls were coated in a thick dust and were worn from the sandstorms that surely swept over this region. As she breached the walls of the structure she called out. "I demand the presence of your leader! I am home." Effy's voice echoed off the walls, and structures within the city that seemed to be asleep in the heat of the midday sun. She waited in her solitude, sure that she would not be alone long. "The mouth of the city sleeping midday. Who will greet a former queen?" She mused aloud now, begging for anyone to gain enough interest to come and lead her home. Effy wasn't leaving, she'd made up her mind about living here with her treacherous journey here.
"Speech"
Notes: First Effy Post! Listing as M for swearing and possible violence (which is very welcomed!)
Tags: OPEN | @Seraphina
Words: 560
Word of a very important summit had reached the serpent’s ears, one in which all four Sovereigns were supposedly to meet in the presence of a god. Up until this week, Toulouse hadn’t even known there was a god in these strange lands—at least one that was more than fable or fantasy. But when the earthquake had caused the ground to tremble and roll beneath his hooves, that had been everyone’s reaction:
It seemed silly to him, to attribute a natural disaster to a god. Of all the things gods were said to be capable of, why would they choose something so irrelevant? And why now?
He supposed he would have to educate himself a little more on this new world he found himself in. Everyone seemed so devoted, so quick to label both blessings and curses as the work of their deities.
But what made a god besides power?
Toulouse wasn’t familiar enough with these lands to know what they looked like before the earthquake. For all he knew, these trees were as old as they looked, and the clearing a carefully tended landmark. Doubt hung heavily on the Palomino’s mind as he slunk through the shadows, wandering around the perimeter of the wall the trees formed.
He came to a stop with a huff, his breath fogging up the early morning air. Whatever it was that was going on here, Toulouse was determined to be in the middle of it.
The arrival of fall had brought with it dark clouds and fresh rain, wind and water lashing against the cliff face. The storm was unrelenting for days, a furious and powerful display of nature that drove many inhabitants, both equine and others, to seek shelter within the Court. It is only the first of many storms to come in the following months, but it seems especially ferocious.
Despite this, when the weather finally decides to lessen @Asterion will feel a tug at his very soul. Something that he can't quite place will draw him to the Cliffs, and guide him to a rocky path leading down to the shoreline. The Regent may not know what exactly he's doing there, but one thing is certain: he's there for a reason.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rain was still falling—albeit at a gentler and steadier pace—when the Pallas’s Gull appeared.
She drifted on lazy wings, allowing the wind to push her this way and that way as she drifted along the coastline. There was no fear in her eyes, nor worry that the storm might suddenly start up in force again. She was confident and strong in her flight; the slightest shift of her angled wings was more than enough to pull her from the gale’s grasp. Her flight was her own, and she was loathe to let nature dictate where she went.
The gull was searching the beach for possible food—or shiny shells to collect, either would do—when Asterion appears on the beach.
He wasn’t the flashiest of creatures—she’d seen horses dubbed in the finest of silks, with the most intricate of braids and expensive jewelry piled upon their frames. He was simple, yes handsome, and perhaps that is what drew her to him. The wind slows, and she drifts ever nearer, floating in a sweeping arc around the wandering equine. Her eyes, as black as coal, size him up with an intensity that seems lost of him.
Once she’s made her decision, she wastes no time.
The gull races down the shoreline, glancing over every rock and pebble and discarded shell she passes until—there.
She swerves and dives, her body dropping to the ground so that she might collect her prize in her red-tipped bill. The shell is black and ordinary on the outside; some might go so far as to call it ugly. But she knows better. It’s the perfect shell, and she’s collected it for him.
With a few deft beats of her wings she’s back in the air, winging her way quickly back to the bay. The rain has all but stopped now, a bit of sun peaking through the rain clouds and illuminating Asterion in light. The Pallas’s Gull slows the closer she comes, until finally she is able to drop the shell at his hooves. It lands face up, so that its most vibrant and iridescent layer is exposed to the world. A diamond in the rough, much like Asterion himself.
She lands next to the shell, and looks up at the Dusk Court Regent expectantly.
Should he pick the shell up—accepting the avian’s offering—Asterion will have found himself a new friend in the Pallas’s Gull.
As the storm calms, @Asterion will find himself wandering the shores near Praistigia Cliffs. As he walks, he may notice the lone gull who seems to be wandering as aimlessly as himself: once he does, the gull will begin her quest to find the perfect mussel shell, and upon doing so will bring it back to Asterion, as a sort of peace offering. If he accepts the shell, he'll be bonded to the Pallas's Gull.
Asterion has met his bonded.
Thread requirements: 1 reply, 500 words. Please tag the RE account in your reply.
How to tag this account: @*'Random Events' without the asterisk!
Once you respond, you may begin including Cirrus in your IC posts.
A party, how wonderful! Really, Relic loves social events, and as a sage, he finds it of the utmost importance to meet the members of his court as well. The kirin hummed as he made his way through the meadow, the twilight heavens above dancing on his scales and horns, even on his hooves as he took steps through dark grass. It was a beautiful night for a party, a crisp early autumn, and he bobbed his head slightly.
So far, there weren't many, but he was happy to nod toward his sovereign with a warm smile, before looking away from her gilded frame, her hair like molten gold water. Instead of poking around others, he settled himself near a fire, lifting a book from a handy little satchel (borrowed), and he carefully opened it to read over it.
always one decision away from a totally different life
-- ♕ --
The path to the fields are wooded and wild. Trees arch overhead, their boughs growing thin, their leaves carpeting the forest floor. Each step is a tune of rustling leaves, their air is damp with afternoon rain – but it is long now past. The clouds have cleared and the pieces of sky seen through the thinning umbrella of boughs is crystal blue and hazy with the late hour.
The forest gathers around the track, pushing in and narrowing it down until only one horse can pass at a time. Ahead is a small window of foliage that opens out into the fields.
Dusk has turned the blue sky gold and then to red as it halos the setting sun. The light shines low, setting amber leaves to glow like embers and red leaves to gleam like rubies. Everything here in the fields is painted in shades of gold and red. Everything is readying itself for winter.
As the sun sets, the cool begins to set in and great fires are dotted around to warm those who wish to gather here. Assorted drinks and foodstuffs are spattered around the meadow, the swaying grasses the only song until a band come with instruments and voices.
All is set for the Twilight Party, an event only for Terrastellans. Their numbers had grown, booming brilliantly, but with it were so many faces the Dusk Sovereign did not know. So she stands, near a fire, its light turning her mane to liquid gold as it cascades down her neck. She waits for them all to gather, for their evening’s party to begin
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Okay my loves, this is a meet and greet do. We have had so many wonderful chars join our Dusk ranks and I want this to be their opportunity to meet other members and get involved – make plots and have fun.
So, you can reply to this thread if you wish to speak to Florentine or begin your own threads to talk to others. Old members, I ask that you write with a new char and that everyone speaks with someone their char has NOT met before. If you start group threads, by all means have someone your char already knows in it, but make sure there are also 1 or 2 they DON’T know.
It will only be only a short lived event, taking place only on one IC night. I do not want to get over ambitious with something like this when we do not know what the SWP will ask of us activity wise. So you have until end of play on the 11th June to get your posts up! Tag them with the title ‘Twilight Party’ so people know which threads are part of this. Go and have fun my lovelies <3 <3
Was it just him, or was the air cleaner outside of Denocte?
Smoke had remained long after the last of the dragon fire had burned away in the mountains. It clung to the peoples’ skin, clogging the streets of the city with their bonfires and festivities that never seemed to end. At first, Toulouse had eagerly awaited each night: when the sun went down, the Night Court came alive with music and dance. The drinks never seemed to stop flowing, and the food he’d offered to him had been both strange and addictive. It was easy to lose your mind and your inhibitions in such a place.
But eventually, the days and nights began to blur together in a seemingly never-ending cycle. Even Toulouse grew tired of it all, yearning for a reprieve, for the night to simply end.
And so, when the Gates finally did open, he was quick to slip away. No goodbyes, no hesitations. He disappeared into the dusk, chasing the falling sun in an effort to leave the night far, far behind him.
There was not enough secrets in the world to hold him back this time.
He wasn’t sure why he returned to the sea; it was as if his hooves moved of their own accord. Before he knew it he was standing at the cliff’s edge, not unlike the way he had only months before.
Has that much time passed already?
Musings drifted through his head like a lazy river as the palomino gelding stepped ever closer to the cliff’s edge. The waves roared and crashed beneath him, the water throwing itself against the rocks with a ferocity unparalleled in nature. Time moves so quickly here. Maybe it was just a Denoctian thing; Toulouse hadn’t spent enough time in the other corners of Novus to see if his hypothesis held true.
For now, he was just happy to feel free once more.
He closed his eyes, drinking in the cool, salty breeze brushing across his face. It was tangling his hair into all sorts of knots and snags, he knew. But for the time being, he couldn’t find it in him to care.
Posted by: August - 06-04-2018, 05:58 AM - Forum: Archives
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A U G U S T
August did not often stray from the realm of Terrastella, for his home was one of ravenous beauty and as such he truly had no need. Vespera's celestial majesty had never ceased to steal his breath like a spirited thief in the night so that under a thousand dying days he could wander forever across her creation, never feeling the fingers of boredom or restlessness at his throat. For all her grace, for all her kindness, his goddess had carved splendour into the earth; casting marshland against limitless plains against the splintering splitting sea. But that did not mean he could not appreciate the work of other forces - August was not one to sneer in the face of majesty, even if it was not his own. The world was quiet as he moved through the forests that had sprung up in the empty space between Delumine and Terrastella - they punched like victors toward the blue-glass sky and defied the disunion between its neighbouring courts with their teeming abundance. It felt wild here: untouched and untamed, not inherited by thirsty kings or hungry gods and perhaps that was why he loved it so. Was Vespera watching him now, as he wove through plush shamrock-green thicket that had been kissed by foreign lips? He hoped not. Knowing it was naive to wish her omnipotent gaze ended at the Terrastella border did not stop him from wishing it so regardless. She had seen too much already: too many times he had lurched backward into the seedy abyss of red alcohol that took from him all but his sanity, and yet at least, then, he did not have to feel the plethora of things he had felt before.
But that was then and this was now. He could not flounder like a choking child in the shallows for too long; she was gone, and he was changed and that was the way of the world.
Skin the colour of molten mahogany etched into a canvas of dappled light as he brushed beneath the canopy, his hooves thudding against the soft earth like a promise of atonement. The morning chorus filtered down from on high, and as August breached a clearing he had come to know so well, he felt something unfurl in his sternum. Relief? He couldn't say. Deep within it stretched like a cat rising from a long sweet slumber and filled the cold spaces between his bones with a colour he could neither name, nor remember. But he didn't protest, for it was kinder than the clanging bars of his mind's callous attempt to cage him like a broken beast, and he knew, well, that this feeling of newness and absolution would not last long. It never did. Silently he moved toward the creek that bubbled at his feet, knowing that the falls from which it flowed could not be far now, and eased down the bank with bunching muscles that rippled and arched like gleaming waves beneath his skin. Summer was still warm in her coffin and the cool grip of autumn was kept at bay by a sun that had never been easy to spurn; the day was young and mild and that was encouragement enough for the soldier to slip into the running water to baptise himself of all the sins he had born since the last break of day.
