Spring’s arrival brought with it an improvement in Eros’ mood, albeit a modest one. He has always loved the season—the fragrance of blooming flowers and joy of life anew. Sleep comes easier with the warm embrace of sunshine late into the evening, too. The sun’s arms have nothing on those of his mate, of course, but he supposes a lousy substitute is better than none at all.
This morning is a good one. The melodious chirp of birds draws him from sleep, the traces of warmth and comfort from his dreams still lingering in his mind. With a smile, he presses a gentle kiss to the tattoo on his hind leg and whispers a quiet “I love you” in what has become his new morning ritual. He hopes Aion can feel it, or that at the least he had told him so enough before they were separated.
Sometimes, when uncertainty and insecurity lie heavy in his mind, he wonders if Aion’s love for him ever dwindles. Just the other day had Eros plucked the petals from a daisy one by one, mumbling "he loves me, he loves me not—“
"He loves me!,” the flower had declared. Eros is inclined to believe it; Aion has told him as much many times before, but oh, what he would give to hear it just once more from the man’s lips themselves. For now, though, the flower’s affirmation will have to do.
Today he seeks flowers, too, but for a different reason entirely. Today, he wants to feel beautiful again. And so, he ventures into the fields of Delumine, marveling at the colors of spring painted across the meadow. The tall grasses tickle his legs and flank as he settles himself in the centre of a patch of wildflowers.
With his telekinesis he pinches a lavender one and tugs the stem from the ground, but a soft breeze pulls it from his weak grasp. He frowns, displeased yet undeterred, and picks another; this time he is able to secure it in his tail before it is blown away. He continues on in the same manner until the entire braid is ornamented, proudly admiring his handiwork when finished. If only I had someone to show it to, he thinks, but maybe it is enough—just this once—to feel pretty himself. @messalina
i'm not particularly happy w this, but i hope it's okay!!
<3
I. The laws of the Day Court are relatively simple in their execution. The Day Court’s sense of justice is reciprocal; what is done unto others will be done unto you.
i.e., murder is met with execution, maiming is met with maiming, taking out an eye is met with taking out an eye…
The punishment for crimes of other natures (i.e., theft, treason, etc.) will be decided on a case-to-case basis. The punishment takes the desires of the wounded party into account, and it is often decided by popular vote.
On very rare and heavily debated occasions, trial by combat might be invoked. This can involve pitting the criminal against one of the Court’s own or against a captured beast and is treated as a public spectacle. Should the criminal survive the trial, their crimes will be pardoned, as it is seen as an expression of Solis’s will.
II. Crimes committed against foreigners will be subject to the laws and justice of the court of the wounded party as well as the Day Court, should it prove necessary.
III. Crimes committed against Solterran citizens, particularly those committed on Solterran land, are considered by the Day Court to be subject to their own system of justice.
IV. Foreigners are allowed to pass through and visit Solterra without escort or express permission. However, the Court emphasizes the importance of requesting passage so that foreigners can be provided with a guide, as the deserts are extremely dangerous to those who are unfamiliar to them.
V. Foreigners who commit major crimes on Solterran land are exiled; should they return, they will be killed without question, save in rare cases of extenuating circumstances. Minor crimes are met with warnings – three are allowed (and, of course, punished appropriately) before exile.
VI. The justice of the Day Court is often served swiftly, but the Court does, on occasion, take prisoners. Most often, prisoners are treated with some degree of courtesy, though brutal methods may be employed in extreme circumstances. Because Solterra’s resources are scarce, prisoners are expected to complete manual labor (often in the gardens) to earn food and water for the day.
VII. Meetings are not mandatory. However, those who do not attend meetings might find themselves a bit out of the loop.
VIII. Alliances are to be regarded with the utmost respect – actions that jeopardize them will be punished with more severity than regular crimes.
IX. In the past, slavery was common in Solterra; it is outlawed in the modern Day Court and results in especially harsh punishments. The black market dealings they were provided by are being cracked down upon harshly. Merchants require licenses, and unlicensed merchants will be subject to harsh punishments, particularly if they are found dealing in unsavory matters.
☼ CULTURE && CUSTOMS ☼
X. Currently, Solterra is experiencing a stiff ideological divide between what remains of the old nobility and the new authority. Those that were in power under the previous monarchy struggle to cling to the structures that gave them power and control and the old conventions of the court, while much of the rest of the court works towards reform.
XI. Solterrans burn their dead; this is seen as a symbolic return to Solis.
XII. Worship of gods other than Solis is not expressly forbidden in the Day Court. However, worship of Caligo would be frowned on, if not treated with outright (though notably unsanctioned) hostility.
XIII. Most major decisions of the current Day Court are made in a public setting so that all citizens who wish to comment on the decisions or argue their points are able to do so; the Regime & Champions are considered subject to the will of the Court, and their decisions should accurately reflect the desires of Solterra.
XIV. The culture of the hierarchical monarchy that existed in Solterra prior to Zolin's death was dazzling and indulgent; it strained the people of the court to poverty whilst providing the cruel rulers with whatever they desired. As a result, much of the court goes out of its way to avoid invoking any resemblance to this culture of glamour and excess - those that do are often looked down upon and disliked.
XV. Solterra has historically been a culture of warriors, and, as such, they are still typically given the most respect in the society of the Day Court; the current Regime is attempting to improve the status of other ranks, particularly given the court's current lack of resources. The Court keeps extensive records on their soldiers, designated by numbers they are given early in their careers, particularly during times of war.
XVI. The great beasts (teryrs & sandwyrms) are given great respect in Solterran culture, seen as extensions of the sun god for their power and violence. Those that can bring down a teryr or sandwyrm have gained the god's favor, at least for a time, and are treated with great respect.
XVII. Certain ranks, under the previous monarchy, were denoted by items and brands; child soldiers wore simple, beaten silver collars, generals wore golden collars (usually with sun symbols carved into them), slaves were generally branded (usually on the right flank with a sun symbol) or given items (such as collars or bracelets) or piercings (generally in the ears) to denote their purpose, high priests and priestesses wore pendants with idols of Solis on them, and members of the nobility wore ornate crowns and wreathes. Many members of the court have abandoned such symbols (if they can), though some still wear them.
XVIII. The Court is in the process of expanding on and declassifying their scant historical records. Corruption and deceit have made many of the documents in the library and archives largely irrelevant, however.
XIX. Surprisingly enough, most of the maps of Solterra are star maps; this is largely because of the lack of landmarks in certain areas of the Mors and the Canyons.
☼ FESTIVALS && EVENTS ☼
- Festival of the Sun : coming soonish to a Day Court near you, full of events for the whole family. And violence. But not just violence, because we’re trying to branch out. A celebration of Solis, the sun, life, and light – open to the other courts, should they wish to participate and seek Solis’s favor!
- The Winter Solstice : The shortest day of the year is a sad occasion for the Solterrans; in the surrounding days, they perform various rituals to mourn their dead and reminiscence on the past year.
- CURRENTLY WORKING ON : Festival of the Sun (sign-ups should be open in the early summer, Novus time), a timeline of the Day Court for all of your history needs (& current events), additional info for culture & customs to accommodate the backgrounds of various court natives and make it easier to make natives to the court, fiddling w/laws, adoptables
- LOOKING FOR : coming soon
IC ||
- coming soon!
☼ SUGGESTIONS & INFO ☼
Hi, all!
- If you'd like to suggest an event or an update to the culture & customs of the Day Court, lemme know here, over PM, or via Discord.
- Same thing with important threads; if something news-worthy happens to your character, toss me a link!
- Technically, we have a discord channel for open threads - however, I know that not everyone's on there, so if you have an open thread up in Solterra, lemme know.
- Also, feel free to link me plot threads/character searches/etc, and I'll find somewhere to advertise them!
The sun was beginning to dip just beyond the horizon when he found Ulric behind the citadel. Somnus stood quietly for some time against the courtyard wall, hanging back, simply watching the Warden as he moved. Ulric had always been an exceptional warrior. In Vallen, in Novus, it didn’t matter. The roan moved with a graceful fluidity that Somnus could never even hope to replicate. Yes, he was graceful and dignified in his own way, but he would never be able to master the pure battle brilliance and stature that he had seen in so many soldiers.
Above them both, Alba whirled about in wide circles in the air, moving silently along the breeze with practiced ease. Should Ulric spot the barn owl, he would know that Somnus was not too far behind; the two were rarely apart. Just for show, Alba let out a shriek that pierced the cool evening air, a valiant cry for one still so young.
It was only when the Warden noticed that he was no longer alone and turned golden eyes his way did Somnus smile, emerald depths glittering with open admiration.
“You’ll drive yourself into the ground at this rate,” he stated in greeting, his accent a deep rumble with warmth and affection, “But an immaculate performance, as always.” Somnus hoped, belatedly, that Ulric didn’t mind his scrutiny, that he had watched as the roan had pushed himself through his paces. He wondered, abruptly, what kind of relationship Ulric had developed towards Kasil. Had they been on as personal a relationship as he and Ipomoea had been with the former King? Or did Ulric only regard Kasil as just that; a King he needed to serve?
The tactician approached, the earth passing by leisurely beneath his hooves. He moved towards the glaive with an elegant confidence, still smiling, completely at ease. Around Ulric, there was no hiding. There were never any reasons for political masks to be held up, for emotions to be grappled back and held behind a front of forced chivalry. Around him, Somnus could simply be himself, and he knew that his sudden gain of power would not change how Ulric viewed him. He was, and always would be, ‘Twinkle Toes.’
Twinkle Toes, the Dawn King of Delumine. He snorted.
Distance lessened so that they were mere inches apart and Somnus breathed in, feeling his stresses melt away. Ulric’s scent, the smell of sweat and a unique musk all his own, were oddly soothing. They were familiar. It smelled like home. Reaching out, the dunalino pressed his muzzle against his Warden’s warm shoulder, an intimate greeting that spoke of trust and friendship, of brotherhood. For a few selfish moments he remained quiet, trying to think of the words to say. Eventually he pulled back, let out a long, measured breath, and found Ulric’s golden gaze with troubled verde.
“We need to talk. Might I borrow a moment of your time?”
Welcome to the most extensive library in all of Novus: since the beginning of the world, the sages of Delumine have carefully snuck away every bit of information they could find, building a stockpile that soon became impossible to hide. For days they prayed to Oriens for a safe place to store it all, for a haven of knowledge in the heart of the gods kingdom. And the Dawn God granted them their wish: from the still-young forest he crafted a library, weaving together the tree trunks and branches with loving skill, bolstering their growth so they became tall and imposing, a labyrinth of interlocked trees and never-ending chambers. Even now the forest continues to grow with the need of the library: wish for a new room one day, and you may just return the next day to find it awaiting you.
All are welcomed to The Library to come and learn; the common practice is to leave a scroll if you take one, and donations to its inventory are encouraged.
But be warned: the forest is always watching.
And it does not take kindly to thieves.
To find the Library, you need only to walk North in the Viride Forest: eventually the trees will grow older, their ancient boughs twisting together to form a nearly impenetrable canopy overhead. You may not even notice the trees becoming walls, their roots forming steps, the path you follow splitting into rooms. This is the only entrance to the Library.
Once the trees become walls and the canopy a room, the path will widen into a large and circular room. Seven additional passageways bridge off from this room: three on either side, and one directly across from the entrance. Each of these side paths branch into additional rooms meant for studying, reading, conversing, crafting, and more.
The centermost opening will take you down a short hallway that opens into a cavernous room. The canopy is sparser here, so that light may filter down to even the lowest of levels. Oddly enough, even during rainy weather this room never seems to become damp; however one may often find dried leaves and flowers scattered about the floor.
Bookcases line each wall from floor to ceiling, with wide, sweeping staircases leading to two upper, asymmetrical levels to make for ease of access. Rows of bookshelves make narrow aisles and small nooks, lanterns hung every few feet to illuminate the titles. Several spaces have been cleared for reading, with ample beds and small tables dispersed around the room. Often you’ll see the small fox-like Helpers running back and forth with scrolls and books clutched in their grasp, often disappearing into tiny fox-sized tunnels. If you ask nicely, they may just help you find a specific book or even retrieve it for you; they don’t speak in the common tongue, but they seem to understand it just fine.
The library is composed overwhelmingly of scrolls, as suits the age of Novus’ technology. Books are scattered sparsely, but are prevalent. Nearly all of Novus’ written history is recorded within the Library; a copy of nearly every book and scroll in Novus is duplicated here, often several times.
Anything an equine could hope to read is found here: from fiction to fables to historical documents to ancient cave paintings and artistry. The library’s Helpers are constantly at work scurrying between the Courts, collecting and scribing and hiding away every bit of literature they could get their paws on. While the collection is not quite complete, it’s close—and it’s collections are constantly added to.
The library is divided into sections: there’s a wing for each of the four Courts, a section for lore on the gods, sections for fictional pieces separated by genre, and also a sparsely-decorated area dedicated to fables from far away lands.
Reading Beds
Scattered throughout the aisles and rooms are small comforts left by the many equines who have come before: decorative rugs protect from the cold dirt underhoof, while blankets and oversized pillows provide a lazy lounging space. Equines can utilize them for as long as they’d like
Writing and Crafting Stations
Dawn Court citizens are the most educated upon Novus. They are often sought out for their wisdom and sage opinions. Their honesty can be quite blunt, and they are often the mediator in troubling times. Their thirst for knowledge and curiosity for life holds no boundaries; it is very common to see them as guests in other Courts, only settling in their home Realm when old age starts to affect them physically.
Additionally you may find a multitude of different stations meant for crafting. Large stones hollowed out in their centers make bowls where wood and plant materials can be ground into a pulp when water is added. Wooden planks are provided to smear mixtures onto. In one room, a sun spot has been opened in the canopy to allow papers, mixtures, paintings, and more to dry. Wool gathered from local animals acts as an absorbent layer when placed directly overtop creations. Textile, ink, and quill crafting stations are abundant.
Study Rooms
Every so often, you might stumble upon a private room set up with anything you might need for a long night of studying: broad tables, comfy pillows, ample parchment and quills. They often are not far from the library’s main room.
Observatory
A peculiar room off to one side boasts a dome-shaped ceiling that has been bewitched to reflect the sky above. It changes with the day, and at night becomes far more vibrant, filled with colors and stars. A collection of maps and scrolls identify and name the constellations, and a strange invention is set up facing the sky, with a holding piece for magnifying glasses found nearby to be placed into. It’s wide enough for two horses to stand beneath at once, and provides a closer look at the skies.
Another device similar to a circular table can be found in the center of the room, made up of revolving devices. Spinning the rings will cause the sky to change, the makeshift sun rising and falling accordingly to create days. This device allows the user a peek into the heavens of both past and future, and can be used to predict astronomical events.
Library Helpers
These grey and brown creatures are not only fox-like in appearance, but also in personality: they love their home, and they have fun with their jobs! They're mischievous little things who enjoy reordering their collections to always keep their visitors on their toes, even going so far as to flip through the pages when the readers aren't looking.
But their playful side can quickly disappear if they feel the Library is in danger; attempt to steal or deface the collections, and you may just find yourself cornered by a pack of sharp-toothed canines hell-bent on revenge.
The Court had loomed on the horizon, stretching into the sky with high, impenetrable walls, at once both beckoning her closer and making her shy away. What was within? Did this place, this high keep, hold the answers she sought after? Jezanna longed to discover, to look within. Perhaps there, she would find at last what she had been looking for. Life, purpose, hope even. Hope that she would be able to find her place among the inhabitants of this world and no longer be a lost, wandering soul.
Jezanna stood just outside the walls, feeling as merely a visitor with no reason to step foot within. She watched the crowd bustling, moving along. But to where, and where from? There was so much she did not know and yet she yearned to know all of it still. It had not been so long ago she had stood on the edge of the lake and spoke with the woman, Aislinn. At least in that she had found some sort of solidarity, a likeness to another which made her feel less trapped. It made her feel as though there was promise, a chance to be more than just another face in the masses as she had feared would happen.
Having waited there for plenty long enough debating it, Jezanna took in a breath and stepped past the threshold separating outside from inside. Finally she made her way inward, careful to watch where she was going and yet so curious that she wished she could look everywhere at once. Immediately her senses were overwhelmed by the markets she happened upon, vendors pushing to sell their exotic products and interested parties weaving their way from stall to stall. More than once she’d been forced to stop abruptly or else risk running into another, or paused to wonder about an item.
Unfortunately she had no means to purchase or trade with the shopkeepers, and shook her head each time she was asked to buy something with a disappointed downturn to her lips. Still, her inquisitiveness could not be dampened. Everything here was new and exciting, and she wished to experience all of it. Her silver eyes were wide with awe and fascination, child-like in the simple joy she felt from being surrounded by so many new and extraordinary things. For a moment, Jezanna’s guard slipped. Here, she did not fear how her truth would be perceived, whether or not that fear was warranted.
She had been watching a pair of young foals romp and run around the street with a smile, forgetting to look where she was going, when she practically ran into another equine. Her eyes flashed in concern as she focused back on what she was doing. “Oh! I am so sorry, please forgive me, I was not watching where I was going,” Jezanna said quickly, bowing her head slightly. Of course she would make her grand entrance by disturbing the peace and sense of belonging here she had desired to find.
"Speaking."
@Reichenbach What better way to introduce two strangers than through a classic run into each other scenario!
In the dead of night, a barn owl flies through the shadows and icy rain to a castle above an angry sea. He lands on the edge of a window; the rough winds tearing at the bells wrapped around his ankles in a harsh song.
His beak is clasped around a piece of folded parchment; haphazardly sealed with the Night Court's embellished crest in violet wax.
In it, the note reads:
Something's happened.
She wishes to see you.
Please.. it is urgent.
"The setting sun through open windows, the honoring of every shadow,
A gratitude for all that follows, it's a glimpse of light in a mine of gold."
The waves of the ocean crashed against the sand unendingly, mercilessly—a rhythmic soundtrack, a steady heartbeat, of all the world. The sun shone brightly from its position high in the sky, sparkling off the arcs of the waves and the individual grains of sand. It was a dazzling image to look upon, and nearly blinding at that. Jezanna welcomed the sun on her back however, reveling in the warmth that soaked into her coat and seeped into her bones. It reinvigorated her, the simpleness of standing beneath the sunshine and allowing it to wash over her as she watched the ebb and flow of the sea before her.
Although the young moon had always been quite adventurous, she now had a very good excuse to go wandering, not knowing the places of this world. She was pleased to know the nearness of the water, and was content to stand there and look out over it to the place where it touched the sky in the distance. Here it was harder to picture the world she had been forced to leave behind for though there had been a sea, she had only seen it from her perch in the sky. To stand here was to forget, for the moment, that she was unfamiliar. She knew so few and so little, and yet she yearned to learn more. Perhaps there was a place she could go, or someone she could seek out that would be able to teach her.
Jezanna stepped further onto the sands, allowing her tail to drag across its surface and the wind to whip her mane. When she reached the packed beach where the waves broke across it she stopped, letting the water wash up and over her hooves. The stretch here was not so large, but she could see further down more areas of sand in between the growth of trees. Though she did not know the names of these places she knew that they were beautiful regardless of whether or not they were what she was used to. It was her instinct to say they were not hers, but the truth is that they were now. Whatever happened, this was her home now. Perhaps it was better if she accepted it now.
She could not help but wonder, however, if she could ever come to love these lands like she had loved her own. Only time would tell, she supposed. With a deep breath Jezanna shook off thoughts of her world and took a few more steps forward, wanting to feel the waves against her legs. Every push and pull of the ocean dragged sand out from under her hooves, sinking her, slowly, further down. A smile played on her lips, the first since she had woken here, and her silver eyes danced in the light. This was a new sensation, and she intended to enjoy it, and to immerse herself in this beautiful early spring day. Her only wish was that she did not need to experience it alone, to share this simple joy with another.
MY QUEENS IS A QUEEN
NOT TALKING BRIGHT LIGHTS AND SHINY THINGS
BUT WE ALWAYS MADE IT WORK
BUILDING CASTLES OUT OF DIRT
WARNING: fowl language.
The night sky weeps in shadows and smoke for their stormsinger.
How brave.
She did not know how long she had been collapsed in the snow blanketing the Steppe. The shadows of unconsciousness have wrapped around her in rose vines, pricking her insides with their thorns. Calligo's dark fingers prod her in shadows, dragging her storm daughter from the grips of unknowing. And eventually, through the last of winter winds that whip around her, Aislinn manages to stand. A struggle.. but enough.
What is it you seek my love? A sense of purpose?
Through the starless darkness, she stumbles on weak legs. She seethes into the shadows, her anger a palpable beast despite the blood that stains the snow below her in dark crimson. Calligo's smoke cradles her ruined wing, her bruised body, as she meanders through the outlier of her home. Her Denocte. If only.. if only she could fly.. she would have been at home. But no.. that fucking bastard had ripped clean the bones under her skin. Her wing was the carnage of splintered bones and bloody feathers, all torn skin and dirt and snow stained red upon the mesh of what had once been one of her great appendages. Now, the plumes were shorn of their beauty where his teeth had marred her.
Solis' Warden had grounded the stormsinger and tied her to the damn earth; and she loathed him for it. Go fuck yourself, you sand sucking son of a bitch.
Now, the City of Starlight sprawls around her, pulsing in firelight and the cool kiss of new spring and revelry. From shadow to shadow she melts, a limping wraith who's blood dribbles behind her in a trail. The bright red of her lifeblood is stark against the sconces and pyres that burn, and what little snow has drifted along the walls. Her beloved crown city is bleak on this night — or is it early morning? She doesn't know. The stormsinger can only feel the waves of her hurricane fall flat with each drop that falls from her torn feathers. Her storm is gone; quieted, hushed, silenced. Only Calligo is with her now.
Her heart jumps as Castle Night rises above her at last. The muscles in her limbs ache, heavy and dragging down, down, down to the core of their earth. She sways, dangerously unsteady, as she barely crosses the threshold of the keep, before her legs give out from under her.
So what does the birdfetching bitch have to say?
"Some..someone," she croaks into the dark, sinking into the cold cold stones. "Please."
The darkness threatens to pull her under once more.
MY HOME IS A THRONE
NOT VERY PRETTY, BUT TOUGH AS STONE
AND WE ALWAYS MADE IT WORK
NO MATTER HOW MUCH IT DID HURT
@rostislav @seree <3
Also open to anyone who wishes to gain exp by splinting her broken wing!
Takes place directly after i may fall.
"Aislinn speech."
