Why does this happen to him? Why is this the second time this has happened, and why was it from a different set of deities this time? Had he been so cruel in past lives? Certainly he'd been a shit in the beginning of his life and dark and hotheaded and.. a lot of things, but he most certainly didn't deserve any of this shit that's been handed to him.
The champion of battle stood his ground as he finally stopped. He was still tall, still broad and thick, still bulky but.. not himself. No. He wore scars and horns and a blind eye and tattered ear and yet here he was, standing as an absolutely different beast because he had decided of ALL things, to go take a damn dip in the Oasis for the umpteenth time, and he had come out like someone had poured bleach onto him.
He was livid, with ears clamped and teeth grinding, hooves pawing and hitting the ground just as hard as he would have before. His head tossed and his good eye flickered out, gold instead of red, as he puffed out a breath and finally released a bellow to the herd, calling them out from the reaches of the court.
He might as well explain what the hell was going on before they decided he was some sort of newcomer to the herd or something or another of that accord. His voice was the same, his attitude was the same, but now he was a roiling wave of magma that kept folding over itself and consuming everything before it, and his curses were aimed at the governing deities of Novus.
OKAY SO due to circumstances, I had to sell Levi's design, and thus he was approved to have a new one due to what happened. his new one comes with the fact he went to visit the oasis and when he came out he was... different. it's implied heavily that the deities had something to do with this, but he also wants to let the herd know it's him and his grump ass still
It was the perfect night. The sun had set a few hours ago, and the air of the desert had slowly begun to cool. The moon was full, glowing beautiful and pale in the dark, starry sky. There was only the persistent bubbling sound of the small waterfall pooling into the clear blue oasis lake. The picturesque scene might have been more picturesque had it been visited by an elegant pegasus with a long, flowing mane and tail. But this was not the case. Standing at the edge of the oasis was a zonkey pegasus, her striped silver coat coated in a thin layer of sand and dust. Her mane stiff and short and dirt.
Kijazza normally wore a cute red bow on her tail. It was not present at the moment. Her short, compact body ached and protested of exhaustion. She looked as if she might have been scrounging around in the desert all day. For anyone else knew, that might very well have been the case. She trotted, slow and heavy, over the lush, green grass of the oasis floor, making her way to the clear blue lake. She paused at the edge. Then, she fell in. It was the only adequate word to describe how she entered the lake up to her torso.
She let out a drawn-out groan and a soft sigh. "Ooooooooh, that feels good." The cool water seemed to soothe her aches and pains. She closed her eyes to enjoy the moment.
She was not overly fond of the quiet, but she could appreciate the scenery, and she could definitely appreciate the time to relax. Now was her time.
Kijazza's trek up the mountain was a long and ardurous one. She ran out of breath frequently and had lost her footing no less than three times already (thank goodness for wings). It was not, of course, an appeal to the gods that sent her all the way out to the mountain. No, no, of course not. It was the call of rare stones and fascinating rock formations that kept her determined to climb up Veneror Peak. She thought gleefully of the samples she could collect, of what she might learn, and it pushed her forward, no matter how much it made her stocky legs ache. She stopped short of actually entering the worship site itself and relieved herself of the heavy pack on her shoulders to begin her observation and study.
Kijazza, like any Novus resident, was familiar with its gods. She had heard stories from Fabulene all the time when she was a foal. There was also that one time she met an old Dawn Court sage while engaging in trade with the area, but it barely registered a blip in her life history. It was only a couple of years ago that she had decided on an agnostic viewpoint in regards to the gods. There were too many questions, too many things that put doubt in the existence of the gods, and not enough answers. And yet, Kijazza kept an open mind. It did not seem like an impossible idea that gods might exist. She paused as she chipped away at some rock with a chisel and looked further up Veneror Peak where the site of worship laid.
She might have to try and run some tests some day. What tests she could not be sure... how did one test the gods? She was sure she would figure it out. Eventually. In the meantime, she finished chipping off some more rock samples and resumed carrying her pack. She started to trek up to the site of worship, and she paused a moment at the entrance to admire the great twisting stone pillars that decorated the clearing.
She trotted over to one and put her hoof upon it, a look of admiration and wonder on her face. Regardless of whether they were naturally occurring or constructed by skilled artisans, she could not help but be impressed. She took a moment to continue to eye up the stone pillars until the shrines to the gods caught her eye.
Naturally, she gravitated to Solis' shrine. Being a citizen of Day Court technically meant she was under this god's jurisdiction... or whatever, right? She bore neither ill will nor admiration as she looked on at the shrine. She figured it was appropriate enough that she was a member of the Day Court. Out of all the gods, she felt like she could probably identify with Solis the most. Well, sure, she didn't really understand the whole battle-lust thing he seemed to have going for him, but the sense of humor? The confidence? Guy seemed like he'd know how to party.
"Nice place you got here," Kijazza remarked, aloud. She sat upon her rump and opened up her pack, pulling out a canteen of wine. She took a swig of it.
"It must be pretty nice being a god. Getting to lounge around all day and do nothing and get people's respect and admiration despite not doing anything. You even get some gifts out of it! Nice." She nodded her head casually. She was aware that she might as well be talking to herself, but that really hadn't stopped her before.
She looked through her pack a moment, then pulled out another canteen of wine which she laid in front of the shrine, perhaps as an offering. "You can never carry too much wine, am I right? It's good stuff. You know, even if it's entirely possible you and your fellow god and goddesses could just be an old mare's tale that's gained too much traction over time, I don't mind sharing this with you. Why? Because if I drink wine alone, it makes me look like I have problems. If it's with someone that at least some equines think exist, then it probably counts as a social activity."
She grinned at the shrine, displaying a row of large flat teeth. "Hey, you know what could be fun? If you had any kind of inclination to show me a miracle right now. That would be great. You probably haven't done one of those in a while, right? I mean, could be a good icebreaker. You're just sitting there talking with someone, and then - boom! FIRE IN THE SKY!" She reared up a moment, then sat back down again.
"Or, you know, you could be a total party pooper and not do anything like usual."
She fell silent and seemed to sulk a moment, then brightened upon catching sight of something glimmering just a little beyond the shrine. "Oh, hey! Are those the kind of sedimentary deposits I think they are?" She started to rush towards them.
The sun glanced off his silver body as if it were a blade, skin like steel that flowed silkily over the supple curve of his alluring body, an suit of argent decadence that nuzzled into his razor cut bones. Velorca was on the prowl. He had preened himself this morning, ensuring his burnt butter eyes glowed serenely and that his storm coloured lashes were lengthy and elegant. His hair had fallen as it always did: perfectly, silkily straight and soft as a Terrastella morning. He'd tucked it back with an elegant pin - a golden serpent with a sparkling diamond for an eye, eye-catching a regal, or so he thought to himself as he smiled at the mirror.
As he'd left his room, cloak-less, the sun had tried to snatch grasps of his body, sliding from curve to curve desperately until he'd finally stepped into it's full embrace. Now he lay comfortably in the suns heat, basking upon expensive imported rugs as he read a scroll about the Rahilah, golden eyes sucking up the words swiftly and hungrily even as he batted his lashes at every passerby. He smiled languidly as he read, stretching often so as to show off the full, luxurious length of him, the utter perfection.
The sun bore down, endless and tyrannical, and Velorca thought nothing of the King that had just found his demise. He had told Maxence vengeance was coming, he had said that his reign would be short and bloody, and that Solterra did not need a foreigner for a King. The Commander had not listened, and their fierce home had punished him for it. He was simply a King in a long line of Kings, attempting to take control of a wild thing. There was no taming the Sun, nor the desert, nor the Davke.
Velorca stretched once more, his long limbs supple and smooth. A young soldier paused as he hurried by, staring for a moment too long to be casual. Let the politicians figure out what to do with the Courts, he had other matters to attend to.
Posted by: Aislinn - 11-26-2017, 02:26 AM - Forum: Archives
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AISLINN
SHE TASTES LIKE MOONBEAMS AND LAVENDER
She could almost taste the kiss of winter on her lips; the soft grey of the sky above promising the falling of snow. The breeze that flirted with each of her feathers and tossed her mane sending fingers of ice trailing down the curve of her spine. Standing outside, at the edge of the bustling market square, she shivered. Despite being a statue of shadowed marble and stars, the stormsinger was not equipped for the cold biting her in little nips. Her body uncovered and craving the warmth of the layered furs on her bed and a stomach filled to the brim with hot tea. Aislinn was a warrior born and bred, honed and trained. Surely, she could brave the chill settling into her bones for a few moments to relax, to wander, without prowling the streets. She was off duty, for once.
After a long shift that poured into the early morning, the streaks of rosy dawn mottled the grey sky far above her. The tell-tale gold of autumn fading away, wilting into the brown of yearly decay as winter soon rushed in to claim this world and the next. She was exhausted, but not nearly enough to drag herself to her tower room; instead, the soft beats of market goers and morning song called to her. The smell of warm bread lulling her, the clinking of trinkets and barters loud through the usual drums of street musicians. In the heart of the City of Starlight, even when Calligo was fast asleep, her Court was alive. Forever passionate, boisterous, and teeming with revelry. Merchants and bakers and travelers crowded the streets, braving the frost coating the paved stone and the promise of snow flurries in the air. Winter was nearly here, and yet, her kingdom still lived on like an eternal flame.
She melted into the crowd, a graceful shadow of smoke and stars, as she smiled at each patron and morning-goer that passed her. Her path was an aimless one, as she greeted and spoke with familiar faces, as well as new ones. Aislinn's wings were tucked at her sides, desperately holding onto whatever warmth the ebony dark of her skin could hold. The bright blue of her eyes molten embers, missing nothing as she scanned the warriors hiding in the shadows at the edge of the walls. Even now, she did not fail to do what came so naturally to her.. to protect and to defend the place she rightfully called her second home. But some days, she had to force herself to relax.. to take a step back, to trust fully those who she called comrades, to put faith in those who stood by her against all enemies.
One such comrades caught her gaze through the growing crowd; her smile warming as her orbs flickered with recognition. "Kaisar! G'morning," she greeted, pushing through the market square and coming to stand by a familiar face.
@kaisar aislinn is being a baby omg. here you go sweet pea <3 up to you if you'd like him to be on or off duty or not dear lol
“Annette, do you think it possible for one to walk so long and so far as to simply perish along the way, not even aware of one’s death? If so, I think that soon enough I will arrive at Hade’s door.”
What had started off as an excursion to the lands of Denocte had turned into a week-long trek over excruciating terrain. Though hard to admit to herself, Messalina may have… miscalculated the distance between Dawn and Night, and she was paying dearly for her mistakes.
By some miracle she had made it this far, past rivers and meadows and mountain ranges, relying solely on her keen intuition and a battered map. "How I hate the scoundrel who sold me this map—was it not he who assured me the journey would take no longer than three nights?” she scoffed, scowling as she recounted the precious coins she’d traded for a useless map. Of course, the girl failed to consider how her keen intuition might have been more at fault than the poor sage’s accurate estimate.
Her journey to the Night Court was driven both by curiosity and necessity. It had been a rocky transition to life in Delumine, fraught with desperation and prickly interactions with the locals. At the end of it, she’d managed to obtain lodgings, a way to make some meager coin, and a bruised ego (still recovering). Thanks to the girl’s prior education, she’d become a sage’s assistant by day and a performer by night. She detested both jobs—the sage was as ancient as the trees, and the tavern she performed at was filled with nothing but intoxicated travelers more intent on bedding her than appreciating the elegance of her dance.
But it was the constant talk amongst them of the wonders of the enigmatic Night Court—their King Crow (whatever that meant), the streets filled with trinkets and music, and most importantly, the talents of the populace—that drew Messalina’s attention. She’d never encountered individuals as talented as she in the arts, and her curiosity was peaked. And if the rumors were true, the citizens paid good coin for splendid performances, something her near-empty coffers would sorely appreciate. It was decided. She would journey to the Night Court, stay for a full moon’s cycle, then return to Delumine jingling with coins and swathed in finery.
A smile parted her pink-satin lips as she fantasized about the luxuries she'd soon be able to purchase. A large chunk—scratch that, all—of her wages went towards restoring herself to her former glory. And while gold baubles weaved through her ivory braids, and a heavy embellished cloak settled gracefully around her shoulders, she was bitterly reminded of how she’d dressed her dolls in fabrics finer than her current ones.
Messalina halted her steps as water lapped around her ivory hooves. A lake as smooth as a mirror emerged in front of her: Vitreus Lake. Perhaps she would arrive in the court at nightfall, if nothing detained her until then. A blood-red ripple drew her eye to the water’s surface, and she exhaled at the reflection of the rose nestled behind her ear. "If only you were with me, Annette. If only Mother hadn’t left me to suffer on my own, from riches to rags overnight." Her voice dropped into a low whisper. "If only I’d been worthy enough to accompany her, wherever she is now."
— ♕ —
@Mila notes: I finally put this up! <3 messa's naivety really shines through in this post o_o
He had not intended that outcome-- just a child in the eyes of society, but Ivanskir had seen to it that his grandson's order was upheld. A thief, and a repetitive one. The Mark of Sin had been prominent on his chest and he had defiantly looked into the eyes of the law without a care in the world. Kasil could still see those eyes in his dreams at night, glaring harshly down at him as if to blame him for his untimely death. His grandfather had called him out from the sideline of the court, his yearling fuzz just beginning to shed into the sleek sheen of adulthood -- and asked Kasil what he thought should be done in accordance with their laws.
This man, he explained, had been caught three times for stealing from his fellow court members and justice had yet to be determined. The boy had considered all that he had learned at the heel of his grandfather and of that which he had learned in the sage's libraries. When he opened his mouth and recited the correct answer, it was as swift as anything he had ever seen. One moment he was a timid voice, urged to speak and the next there was a great howling as the thief was dragged from the court in chains. Later, he would be forced to attend the execution and meet the eyes of a child no older than he, the daughter of the thief that he had been stealing to provide for.
Her face stood out to him even now, in his memory.
A snapping branch, caught his mind in a way that forced him to let go of that memory. The King of Delumine turned his head slowly, the golden diadem glinting in the light that could barely seep through the leaves that had been thinned by autumn's turn. Dusk was settling upon the lands, daylight delivered from Solis' hands into Vespera's gentle embrace. Sometimes Kasil mused that Oriens and Vespera were twins, thus why their two pieces of the day were both so short and equally as glorious. It would make sense to him, but he had read nothing of it in the Dawn Libraries so he could not confirm. Perhaps if he were ever lucky enough to meet a god, he might ask just to satisfy his own curiosity. His ears twisted towards the sound of the snapping branch, his eyes sharp in the dying light. He was grateful for the distraction from his melancholy thoughts, so consumed by his responsibilities and their weight that he could use an intervention -- even a dangerous one.
The Sovereign unfurled the wings painted in rich swatches of mahogany, the tips of the velveteen feathers brushing the ground as he prepared for whatever was to come.
-le gasp- an open thread! with the king?!
First dibs to @Somnus and/or @Ipomoea coding by Avis
The first thing that catches him straight from a tear between worlds is the cold.
In the Riftlands the weather had followed its own mad rules; feral magic had driven it wild. Deserts were born of seas and caves crumbled into canyons, but rarely did the wind blow with a bite and a whisper of colder to come. Now that he considers it, Lysander has never seen a winter.
He can’t say he is eagerly anticipating the prospect. Nevertheless, stagnation is dullness and dullness may as well be death –
And besides, Florentine is around here somewhere. That is enough to make this world worth exploring. Not that he has the option to leave; once he has been unceremoniously birthed into this November-gray meadow, the window between the worlds knits itself shut.
There is a quirk to his dark lips as he watches it go, though he says nothing, only wonders for a moment what will become of those left behind. Perhaps the little Anthousai had left other tears for them to escape through; perhaps she’d be back with a way to save them all.
It would not surprise him, but then not much did.
Next he stretches, long and languid as a cat, and scratches his neat arch of antlers against a black knee.
Only then does he take in the world around him. Green-brown grasses blown flat with the wind that riffles its way through his dark curly hair, and thick furrows of clouds like fields that stretch from horizon to horizon, and nearly nothing else. If he is unimpressed he does not show it; he only begins to walk, a gait as feline as his stretch.
He knows it is only a matter of time until he finds someone. Lysander is never alone for long.
@Florentine for the mentions, and @Crux if you wanna talk midnighters - but anyone welcome!
Oh, it’s a bad, bad ritual
Oh, but it calms me down
Winter winds, premature but full of ice, carry the Dusk girl in above the jagged peaks. Its chill bites as her limbs and ruffles the golden feathers of her wings. Its touch upon her cheeks is the promise of snow flurries, and white, white mornings yet to come.
The ground has long ago opened its arms to the impeding winter and frosty grasses crunch beneath her feet as the Dusk girl lands. Florentine’s breath is a cloud of frost that withers and fades into the silvery blue of the morning sky.
The dawn is dreariest here, the land so consumed by night that the flower girl wonders if only daylight truly knows how to conquer the dark. Dawn light so weakly glimmers that even the mountain peaks feel only a weak phantom of Delumine’s glory.
Her feet skitter skip, weaving around sparse grasses and frost painted rocks as surely as a stream pours down the mountainside. Yet this girl is not as sure as water here, because, with every beat of her wings that flew her closer and every beat of her heart, she wondered why.
Why is she here at dawn and not at night when Denocte awakens with eyes of blazing fire and smiles that dance and dance?
Her every step is light and feverish, the dagger beating erratically at her breast. It’s every stroke against her breast reminds her heart of its wings and her soul of its restlessness. Dusk’s crown is heavy upon her head, but where it should have turned the girl as steadfast as an elder tree, rather, she has become its leaves, set free by the wind.
The wind has blown its flighty girl here and she will now never know why for her eyes settle upon a shadow-drenched figure. Its presence is familiar enough to dash every thought from Florentine’s mind and fill it with the song of gypsy coins chink and sighing feathers; none of whose are Reichenbach’s. The Dusk girl knows her lover too well and this shadow is too slender, too fine. It walks like a dance and stalks like a cat and sounds a drum beat in Florentine’s breast that lights the her up like gasoline.
Aislinn She breaths the name with white, white smoke and wonders just what this dreary dawn has in store for these two girls.
Posted by: Liesel - 11-24-2017, 12:50 AM - Forum: Archives
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L I E S E L
she must be a descendant of wolves, for her skin is like pure moonlight
She often trained in the forest, dancing and dodging through trees with an unmatchable agility, her dainty hooves tapping and rasping off of bark and leaf litter alike. There was a timelessness to Viride Forest that did not reside in any other place in Novus, save perhaps their temples and shrines to the Gods that were worshipped here. Liesel herself had never been a particularly pious soul, preferring to live her life without concerns of the afterlife, simply choosing to live each moment as fully as she could.
It had been more than a few months now since she'd joined the Dawn Court's warriors, choosing to train and fight among the warriors of Delumine and to protect the city she had come to call home. It was a sound city, based on knowledge and wits rather than battle-hardiness and strength... something that gave her all the more reason to protect it. In the time before now, the time that came to her in flashes of turquoise and royal blue, the country, nay Kingdom, she had protected had been run by a greedy family, one that often wanted to expand.
The Dawn Court, as knowledgeable as they were, did not need to expand. Their knowledge was hidden in every crevice and cranny of the ancient Court, protected and cherished. They had everything they could ever need in their Northern lands - but would Solterra think the same way. Liesel had not been the only one to note Maxence's particular interest in their fertile lands, though she'd had no time to discuss her thoughts with the other warriors of the Court. In fact, she'd mostly done her drills and trained alone - she'd had little time to make friends (a rare occurrence for the summer girl).
Pausing in a moment of silence, she heard the sound of approaching hooves and whirled gracefully, her silver hair settling about her razor boned face as she stared through the emerald forest.
@Ulric ugh sorry I've never been good at starters!!
