[AW] when the chips are down - Printable Version

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when the chips are down - Seraphina - 10-17-2018

☼ s e r a p h i n a ☼

when the fires are consuming you
and your sacred stars won't be guiding you

Unbeknownst (or, perhaps, entirely known) to the sun god, the silver was in fact at her books again – though she was damn near tearing the pages out with frustration.

Always something, isn’t it?

That was her problem, she thought, always expecting to find some sort of mathematical solution even when hell had frozen over. If there was anything that she should have learned from all of this – from gods returning to life and the entire land uprooting itself – it was that there was not always a solution, or, at the very least, not one that could be found tucked between the yellowed, ash-scented pages of history. She had hoped, against her better judgement, that she would stumble upon some poorly-cited historical incident where the Day Court had been covered in ice and snow for some inconceivable reason, and that might lead her to some sort of answer, some way to fix things -

But there were no answers to be found, and, as she stared down at a page that she was sure she’d scanned half a dozen times already, a sense of futility settled in her stomach like a stone.

They were fine, but…

The three patrols she’d sent out to the Mors hadn’t come back.

She wouldn’t send any more of them to their deaths. Had they simply become lost in the snow? But the warriors of Solterra were accustomed to finding their way in the endless monotony of desert sands – surely, in a group, she hoped that her warriors were competent enough to navigate their way back home. The other, more sickening possibility was that something waited for them in the snow. (For a moment, the paradoxical lash of flame burnt at her withers, then nothing. She could taste blood in her mouth.) One thing was perfectly clear to her: they couldn’t remain holed up behind the walls of the court forever.

She flipped the cover of the leather-bound tome in front of her closed, looking away dismissively. New problems required new solutions. It was her job to find them.

(But, gods, if it wouldn’t help to have some sort of fire magic – or magic at all – at the moment. It wasn’t as though they could simply shovel out the blizzard on their doorstep.)

Ears twitching back to lie flat against her skull, she breezed out of the library and into the frigid cold that had consumed the battlements. Freezing wind twined through the snow-white of her hair, catching in the pale, lurid sunlight; she let a shiver run her spine. The landscape was unrecognizable, each familiar ridge and contour and distant silhouette swallowed up in a sea of snow – as much as the smooth sandstone, slick with ice, beneath her hooves told her that she was home, it felt as though she were in some other world.

Her eyes, instinctively, sought the glow of the sun without quite staring into it. She still wasn’t sure if he could hear their prayers, much less if they were thought rather than spoken aloud, but...he was around. She knew that much, had felt his warmth at her side and remembered the gold sheen of his sides as well if it were yesterday. It couldn’t hurt.

Solis. Do you have some idea of how to fix this? I’ve…found nothing, and I’m running short on ideas. Short of setting the entire court (or realm) ablaze, anyhow.


notes | a post? seems unrealistic. anyways, seraphina is alive, and, shockingly...has her nose buried in a book.

tags | open <3


RE: when the chips are down - Saphrax - 10-18-2018

It seems oddly fitting that Saphrax has arrived precisely when he has. The irony is so abundant that Saphrax almost chokes on his spit when he comes into the air space of the day court. Here he comes, sexy flames and all, only for them to be hidden in a blizzard of wind and snow. He HATES snow and cold and everything about winter. This blizzard was certainly not helping him to make an entrance. Normally he would glide into the perfect landing, ensuring that everyone had eyes on himself. And yet…here he was, clouded by the snow and in fact, he couldn’t even see the ground. It would be highly unfortunately should the ground simply come up and decide to say hello when he was not ready. That would be a disaster and Saphrax simply could not take the bad publicity. He had to make an impression after all.

What was also ironic was the fact that Seraphina was hoping and praying for a fire magic to make it’s way into her court and clear the blizzard. Saphrax was definitely fire – a whole sexy body of fire. And yet…his fires produced no flames – not now at least. Saphrax could feel the magical energy flowing through his veins. It would not be long before he might gather his fire powers – that he might be restored into his former glory…whatever glory that might have been.

You see, my dear friends, is that Saphrax had never truly been anything of consequence. He had never held a high ranking, never fought a great war, never led a herd. In fact, he didn’t care about any of that mundane shit at all. He was just here to make an impression, to have all eyes on him, and flood this land with sexy fire babies. Goals people…Saphrax had them.

However, despite the blinding cold, Saphrax carried onward, his wings flapping with a sense of beauty and sensuality. His speed was slow as he finally made his descent, his altitude slowly dropping until he could finally start to feel the warmth that naturally came up from the planet’s core. It was with grace that somehow, Saphrax was able to land in a perfect fashion. Even if his visibility was next to nothing, he was determined to fake it until he made it.

Once he was sure all four of his feet were on solid, albeit icy ground, Saphrax gently folded in his wings and settled them lightly upon his side. He couldn’t even bear the thought of his beautiful wings to get damaged. Oh the horror!

Eyes scanned the Day Court – what he thought might be the day court. Head shook lightly, ensuing that his crest of beautiful feathers hung perfectly along his neck. The same was done to his tail feathers, ensuring that each was laid correctly after flight. After all, Saphrax could not afford any ruffled feathers.

Just ahead, Saphrax can make out the outline of a figure. Her color appears to blend in just slightly with the snowy backdrop. In fact, if he were being honest, Saphrax blended into the snow much better with his nearly white coat. It was his flames that blew his camouflage. However, Saphrax didn’t mind – he wanted people to look at his flames.

Steps lead him forward and towards the female. He can smell her from a mile away and she smells glorious. It has been far too long since he had been in the presence of the much fairer sex. The stallion continues forward until he’s at a respectable distance. Only then does he hope his lips to speak. “Excuse me ma’am, might you point me in the direction of the Day Court?” While he’s pretty confident that he’s already there, he needs to illicit a response out of her. He’s never been good at small talk, so this is the best he can come up with for now.


RE: when the chips are down - Seraphina - 11-08-2018

☼ s e r a p h i n a ☼

when the fires are consuming you
and your sacred stars won't be guiding you

Saphrax might be disappointed when he finds the woman, for she is no portrait of delicate beauty; Seraphina could only be called lovely in the purposeful way that one might call a well-sharpened, finely crafted blade lovely. She is all lean muscle, and, as she moves to look at him, her stance, though not particularly tense, is imposing. Her features are dark and weathered, and her eyes – her eyes have seen too much for her face. She’s older than she was, no longer child-queen or frightened girl just growing into her adulthood with a crown like a noose around her throat, but she still isn’t old enough for the ages behind her eyes. And as she lets her odd stare, a sharp contrast of fire and ice, linger on his own, the look in her eyes is cold enough to put the frigid wind that swirls about them to shame.

She thinks that the preening bird in front of her is one of the fairer creatures that she has seen – he reminds her of the phoenix that she has seen in the company of that Dusk Court woman, Israfel, and the artful way that he lands is something to be admired. (She has a certain respect for beings that can fly.) Her gaze creeps watchfully down the feathers of flame that decorate his scalp and hips, the burning of his wings – a fire mage, hmm? She wonders if the flames are just for show, or if they would burn if touched. (If not, she thinks that they are little more than useless decoration; she needs something that burns, not simply something that gleams. The sun – not its reflection.) He asks where he can find the Day Court, and her response is almost immediate, practiced from years as a patrolling guard. “You stand within its walls,” she says simply, her voice impassive, “though it is not usually so…frigid.”

She allows a moment’s pause between them before she inclines her head at him, allowing curiosity to replace her frustration; now that she was a Queen, rather than a mere patrol guard, it seemed so rare that she was able to encounter strangers on their first visit to the court. In spite of his poor timing, Seraphina couldn’t help but wonder what had drawn him to Solterra – and not just because, as its Sovereign, she needed to know everything that occurred within its (presently snow-covered) sands. “What brings you to Solterra, stranger? Why do you seek the Day Court?” If that curiosity bleeds out into her tone, however, it is well-guarded; her intonation barely even rises with the question. However, something in her voice is cool and commanding, with a hint of the authority that she has grown into oh-so slowly. She did not like it much when she had first borne the crown, when she was so young and inexperienced. She is still not so sure that she likes it, but she has grown into it.

She offers him no introduction of her own, in spite of her questions. Seraphina had learned that she preferred to remain anonymous, whenever it was possible – even if this stranger had no reason to know the queen of the court (or, perhaps, if he sought it out, he did), she had no desire to give him her name just yet.  


notes | !!! <3 this is rambly. but also I have a lot of feelings about my girl being like, a whole five years old in-game now.

tags | @Saphrax


RE: when the chips are down - Saphrax - 12-11-2018

Saphrax is expecting a pleasant greeting, but instead, he’s met with a cold stare. If it were not so damn cold outside, he might assume that her stare was the thing that was making him shiver. It’s cold, much colder than he had seen in a long time. She was stressed, or so he assumed. He might not know exactly why her eyes made her appear far older than she probably was, but he knew enough to know that he should probably tread lightly around her. And yet, Saphrax has never been one who easily dances the line of politically correct. He is usually the one who is the exact opposite of politically correct.

As he stands there, he can feel her eyes on him, watching him, studying him. As if on cue, the vain stallion seems to arch his neck to make himself appear more beautiful than if he were relaxed. He lets his feathers flicker, drawing her eyes on his wings, his crest, and his tail feathers. While he might have the body of a stallion, he had the feathers of a bird – a testament to his half-phoenix heritage. Saphrax had to admit, even in the blizzard, he was looking sexier than ever.

He asks her where the day court is, hoping she might be able to point him in the right direction. This was the place he was asks to go to and it was here that he had flown to. At her words, he nods his head in understanding. “Good…because I detest the cold.” While he can occasionally admire the beauty of a snow-stricken forest or field, he does not want to live there permanently. “What is it normally like?” Perhaps he should have done a little more research on the Day Court to know that it was normally a hot desert – another thing Saphrax is not particularly found of, but it would remind him of home.

When she asks what brings him here, he recoils at the term stranger. While he supposes that he is in fact a stranger, he doesn’t want to be seen as such. He’s old enough to read between the lines, to see that she was wanting to know if he was friend or foe. “My name is Saphrax…and I come in peace.” Stereotypical, he supposes, but he doesn’t really want her to feel threatened. If she feels threatened, she might attack, and his skin was perfect and pristine. He did not want to risk her making him bleed over his beautiful white coat.

He tries to relax his posture, to appear as least threatening as he could. A fight was not what had brought him here. “I was told your court needed bodies. I’m new to Novus.” He had been wandering for far too long and it was high time he finally settled down for a little while. At least, he hoped he could settle here. From her cool greeting, he was a little worried he might not be offered a place to stay.