The borders of his own Court were closed - but he supposed those rules did not truly apply to him. After all, Somnus had sent him away once before, had asked him to be his eyes and ears both inside and outside of Delumine. Oh, how Toulouse had bit the inside of one cheek and willed himself not to laugh in the King’s face during that meeting, how he had begged his tongue to not give away his secrets so readily. He did not need Somnus to find out that he was the man that needed watching, not the harmless citizens he’d been charged with. 

Not yet, at least.

Sooner or later he supposed it all would come out, and his time in Novus would come to an end. It was the way of his life, after all; if he never left a world, he’d never get a chance to explore the next. But each time, he was determined to suck the marrow out of every “home” he made before making an overdue exit. His flair for the dramatic knew no limits, truly.

The memory of his first - and last - visit to Terrastella floats idly through his mind. It had been nearly a year since then, when the sinkholes had devastated the land and their goddess had all but laughed in their face for it. Everyone had been so serious then, and so angry. Not that Toulouse blamed them for it, but it had been his first interaction with Novus’ southwestern residents, and the experience had left a sour taste in his mouth. 

But now, it was a much different Terrastella that greeted him. 

He arrived in the evening, but it was as bright as day in the capitol. Bonfires sprinkled the court like stars, with lanterns and candles alike illuminating the space between them.

With all the tensions spread out across the rest of Novus, it was strangely surreal to find one Court seemingly having a party in spite of it all - but Toulouse wasn’t one to frown at the festivities. 

A glass of wine floats along his side, as deep a red as the fabric hanging along his sides, as he drifts down the halls of the capitol. He can hear laughter and music drifting in through the windows, the courtyard outside lively and bright. But for now only his own hoofbeats fill the corridor, and the whisper of his scarves as the wind catches them.

Toulouse is content to let trouble find him tonight. He's a strange man in a strange Court, with only a handful of names in his pocket. 

But a woman catches his eye, leaning against the divider that separates the corridor from the courtyard. There's a tension in the way she stands, something beautifully tragic in her expression. And her color of her skin matches the hue of his blood.

Without stopping to question himself - to wonder whether or not it was a caged tiger he was about to poke, a woman wanting some time alone - he changes direction.

"Why so sad?" his voice is a murmur as he settles himself beside her at the window. "It's a party, you know."




@Moira
better late than never?! 
this should be 
interesting <3