YOU HAVE UNTIL 11:59PM EST ON 07/25/18 TO POST YOUR APPLICATION!
searching the void
Upon the frosted peaks of Veneror and the stone pedestal that Tempus had erected for the Summit, they had all stood. Caligo had watched them from above, the chill of the night sky whipping her hair into a frenzy that none of them could see.
Her heart, guarded, had swelled as she looked down upon the Regime of her Court. As the massive trees that locked them in together receeded and freed all, she felt the tightness within her chest release.
Her Children were safe.
Proud gaze shifted to the rest of her Children; they were as diverse as the stars and faceted gems that littered her pelt and hid away within her eyes. She admired them so, seeing a piece of herself in each Denoctian.. and it was then, as she cast her gaze upon the rest of her Children, that she looked away from the three of them. And it was only then that she lost them.
As the Summit had concluded, all of the Regimes had made their slow returns to their respective Courts. Caligo, bright and shining even though her skin was darker than any void or black hole, waited to greet them.
At the very North-most boundary she stood, her silhouette solid and unwavering, her eyes brighter than any galaxy as they stared off to the horizon peak. It was there she stayed for days, waiting for them. But hers.... they never came.
And they never would. No dragons cresting through the clouds, no glistening white and gold scales, no rolling storms and ivory-kissed wings, no glittering gold and charismatic smiles. Caligo felt her heart break and crumble, her chest swelling. For the first time in so many years, the galaxies within her eyes glistened with the tears her mortal form afforded her.
But tears would not return them to her. Slowly, onyx hooves turned from the North-most border. They may be gone and she may not know where to, but the rest of her Children needed her more than ever now.
To the center of the Night court she returned, and in place of sadness was confidence and pride. Her lips settled into a fine, serious line, diamonds glittering and dropping off of her hide as she walked amongst the mortals.
At the center, she stood still with wild, violent hair that whipped around her, enveloping her form in a comforting void. She knew her Children would come, but this was not just for them. The voice called, booming across the entirety of Novus; its tone cool, solid, and firm.
WITHOUT FALSITY, I WILL SEEK YOU AS YOU SEEK ME
THOSE WHO HAVE NOT RETURNED ARE NO LESS SPECIAL TO ME, BUT WE HAVE NOT THE TIME TO WASTE.
PROVE TO ME YOU ARE WORTHY OF WHAT I OFFER, AND I WILL CONSIDER YOU, WHETHER YOU ARE A CHILD OF CALIGO OR NOT.
BUT HEED ME, FOR I KNOW MORE ABOUT YOU THAN YOU EVEN KNOW OF YOURSELF.
Prove yourself in front of those before you and Caligo herself, and you may just find yourself blessed by the Denoctian demi-goddess to rule in the stead of those who have left us. Let the trials begin.
Rules to Apply
Before filling out the form found at the bottom of the page, you must read the rules and guidelines below, as well as everything posted on this page! Please ask us if you have any questions or concerns at all!
Character Requirements:
You can audition both existing characters and brand new characters, however both are required to make an IC post responding to Caligo! This thread has been temporarily opened so that both OOC, pending, and accepted IC accounts may make their replies for the audition.
Anyone from any Court can apply.
Your character must be at least three years old.
You do not have to create a character account unless you are chosen. In the event that you are chosen as Sovereign, you will have 2 weeks to create your character's profile (it should be easy, since all of the information is already required to fill out the audition form).
You can try out with as many characters as you'd like! However, each needs a fully separate post and application in this thread.
General rules and requirements regarding Sovereigns:
Regarding Sovereign vulnerability: Sovereigns will be deemed Vulnerable if you make 10 IC posts or less per month (this means that it will be extremely easy for anyone to win a Challenge against you), and posted absences only make you immune for 2 weeks.
Sovereign activity requirements: To promote activity within their respective Courts, the Sovereign must setup 1 IC event every other season.
Once you are selected and your profile approved, your first duty will be to create a Court Rules thread in your respective Court forum. Read this thread for things you can do as Sovereign.
Regarding this audition:
All auditions are due by 11:59PM EST on 07/25/18. Novus-standard time is listed in the sidebar.
You must make an IC post replying to Caligo AND post the OOC audition form! Both must be included in the same post, with the IC post first and the OOC audition form underneath it.
Please, only reply to this thread if you are auditioning for Sovereign.
The IC post can have your own personal coding and art - but that will not affect the outcome.
All responses to this thread will be considered complete, whether they are actually finished or not. Please do not post Work in Progress auditions!
Please do not alter the OOC audition form itself. Although we love to see special coding and pretty pictures, we want to be as impartial as possible - and as much as we'd like to say we're fairly objective, special coding and pretty pictures can impress us! We want these to be bare-bones.
As you're filling out the audition form, pretend you're filling out an actual profile. Make sure you adhere to all Character Rules set out here.
We'll be judging on writing quality and how well your character fits into Denoctian ideals.
Each member who auditions will be awarded 100 signos (per member, not per audition)!
If you have read through the rules, understand the requirements, and still want to audition for Sovereign, please make an IC reply addressing Caligo and put your completed OOC audition form (below) underneath it!
Code:
<button class="acc_ctrl"><h2>Click here to see this character's OOC audition form!</h2></button><div class="acc_panel">
<div class="tcat"><font style="font-size:20px; font-weight:bold;">About the RPer</font></div><blockquote><blockquote>
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">Thanks for auditioning! Let's start with your name.</span>
What is your OOC name?
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">Great! How old are you?</span>
How old are you?
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">Have you ever held a Position of Power before?</span>
Have you ever had any characters in a leading position, on or off-site? What did you like about it? What did you not like about it?
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">What aspect of Novus are you most excited about?</span>
Tell us something that stood out to you when you read the Guidebook, or something about the site in general.
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">Introduce us to your character. Who are they?</span>
Name of your character
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">How many years of life have they experienced?</span>
How old are they? Format like "Age [Year XXX]" - youngest allowed is 3 [Year 498]
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">We have to ask... what is their gender?</span>
What is their gender? Format like "Male [He/Him/His]"
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">Along those lines, who are they most attracted to?</span>
What is their orientation? Format like "Heterosexual"
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">What breeds run in their veins?</span>
What is their breed? If there are more than two breeds, please put the most dominant breed followed by "X"
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">Spectacular. How tall are they?</span>
Height in hands. Format like "16.0 hh" - make sure it somewhat aligns with the breeds you mention above! Must be between 8 and 21 hands high.
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">We'd love to see them, if they're not too shy!</span>
If you have any image references, link to them here - do NOT put image codes, just put the links.
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">They're gorgeous! How would you best describe them?</span>
Character appearance here. At least 200 words. Make sure you follow the Character Appearance guidelines.
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">No one is perfect... what are their positive and negative traits?</span>
Name at least six positive and four negative traits.
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">They sound interesting. Would you mind expanding on their personality?</span>
Character personality here. At least 300 words. Make sure you follow the Character Personality guidelines.
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">Here comes the best part! Tell us about their past... the good and the ugly.</span>
Character history here. At least 400 words. Make sure you follow the Character History guidelines.
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">Why would your character be a good candidate to lead that Court?</span>
Tell us why your character would be a good choice to be Sovereign of that Court. Match up their ideals and values with the Court and the Deity.
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">What would be their goals as Sovereign? What would they do with their new power?</span>
What are your plans for the Court? What rules would your character set? Would they hold any events to garnish activity?
<span class="sidebarheaders" style="font-size:12px;">You've got us convinced. Is there anything else you'd like to add?</span>
Here's your chance to add anything else at all!
</blockquote></blockquote></div>
To tag this account: @*'Random Events' without the asterisk.
Please be advised, tagging the Random Event account does not guarantee a response!
07-04-2018, 12:49 AM - This post was last modified: 07-04-2018, 01:43 AM by inkbone
Abandoned by their regime, there were very few left of the original faces Araxes had known. Many had left before the gates were locked, and she remained the only Champion left. Rosti was around, his status as Warden known, but they were the only survivors of the purge that the infamous gate closing had become known as.
Many times, she questioned herself on her choice, torn between her people and the family that lay on the other side of the gate. In the end, even her screams at the locked doors and calls for the regime had gone unheard. In the end, it had changed her, had revealed to her that maybe not everyone could be redeemed. She knew the old regime certainly could not be.
So the speckled mare had retreated to her library, to her books and herbs, the many comforts that she could offer the citizens that needed them the most. They had come, she had helped, and while her mind rolled with the many possibilities to revive some parts of the Court, she heard the boom of a voice.
Small hooves scrambled under her body as she lifted herself, and she marched out of the library, down the corridors, and outside the door of the court. There, in the center, stood Caligo herself, a creature of the stars and night, dripping them from her hide as they flickered to the ground. Immediately, Araxes' ears went back slightly, and her wings tucked tight to her head. She wasn't sure if she was nervous, or irritated. The words rolled around her head, and her chest puffed slightly, just as her wings ruffled and feathers stood on edge.
"Worthy?" Her voice burst forward without a second thought, and Araxes, ever the calm and gentle, stepped down toward the goddess. The one that had been supposed to protect them, the one to help, to soothe. "I know you're a goddess, Caligo, but who are you to judge us as worthy? You, who.. who stood by as the regime burned the pass! Where were you when they closed the gates on us? When they refused to answer their champions' calls? Their peoples' pleading?" Her chest puffed more, and her hooves stamped slightly as she squared herself, face to face.
She was not entirely angry, she was.. disappointed, and it showed in the lines of her features, the way her voice shifted as she spoke.
"You could have stopped it, stepped in. Instead we... we had to watch as our families were torn apart. As we were threatened with harm from a dragon that lurked the pass if we dared step outside of the gates. I.. even if Tempus himself said something against it, you could have done something, anything!" For a moment, she choked on a sound, and shook her head a little, her disappointment bleeding through. "The people of Denocte... my people, deserve someone that won't turn their back on them. Someone that won't shut them away behind gates because of foolishness. This... this isn't the past anymore. There are ways to call a truce with politics, instead of hiding away. We can't hide anymore... I won't let it happen." Araxes puffed again, determined, the glint in her eye.
"I love my family, and my people. Denocte can come back stronger than ever, and.. because of this.. I am putting my name in the hopes of being Sovereign. To pick up the pieces of what the disaster of the last regime left behind. I miss the Night Court that I saw when I first came here, when I was first picked as Champion of Wisdom. I've been here long, and to see it wither away broke my heart." She swallowed, and her wings tucked against her head instead of being flared out, once more settling in as she stared the goddess down.
Thanks for auditioning! Let's start with your name.
Jekyll
Great! How old are you?
27 (28 soon RIP me)
Have you ever held a Position of Power before?
I have though it's been a while. I enjoyed it while I could (even when they got knocked off their throne in fights)
What aspect of Novus are you most excited about?
I've been excited about Novus the whole time as a whole are you crazy?
General Information
Introduce us to your character. Who are they?
Araxes
How many years of life have they experienced?
6 [Year 496]
We have to ask... what is their gender?
Female [she/her]
Along those lines, who are they most attracted to?
Pansexual
They're gorgeous! How would you best describe them?
a soft creature built from marble and flecked with onyx, araxes is leggy and gentle in appearance, a sloped neck and body complimenting her looks all too easily. well built, it's obvious she's a female from even afar.
she's very simple in color, taking on the base of white with pink unders and peach hooves. the pink is also around her nose, making her a little sensitive to light but nothing horrendous. black marks her in soft spots everywhere, as well as marking her eyes in stripes instead, both of which are a slate grey to blend in with it.
a simple color, she's anything but. with the odd appearance of wings growing from behind her ears, they really act like a mass of feathers, but they do flap and fold and move like any bird's wings would. they ruffle and fold, and tuck in against her mane. they flap, they stretch, they move, just as any wings would, but for most of the time she keeps them folded against her head, namely to not get too many stares.
she sports a mane of white that's wound in to a single large braid, loose at the end and usually draped to the ground. some times it's easy to catch her with it on her neck as well. her tail is black and thick, spreading out just as long as her mane does as well, drifting behind her. while her mane is more well kept, her tail tends to be tangled and knotted, sometimes carrying extra bits of twigs or leave or some sort of debris from her wandering.
Personality
No one is perfect... what are their positive and negative traits?
Positive: quick learner, energetic, extroverted, peaceful, curious, slow to anger, lover
Negative: heart on her sleeve, curiosity, pacifist, sometimes a bit too emotional
They sound interesting. Would you mind expanding on their personality?
araxes is a bit childlike, in some terms. she's very much someone to walk in to someone's space, to press in to it and explore them, but only because she's curious. it's a downfall of hers, that curiosity, and it's like she can't be sated. she wants to learn and know everything, and she absorbs it all like a sponge as she learns. ara isn't naive, however, so don't take her curiosity for naivety. she is very much smart about the world, she just chooses to not believe there's bad in every corner of it.
a bit fanciful, she's quick on her feet, thanks to her learning streak. there isn't exactly a mean bone in her body though. while her tongue is sharp, her emotions get in the way and she immediately feels remorseful for hurtful things she'll say, even if she means them. it takes a lot for her to dislike someone too, and getting her to talk bad to their face is something. sometimes she may not regret it, but ninety-nine percent of the time, she does. it's just how she operates, as her anger is slow burning and doesn't make much of an impact, even when it does surge.
she's also very fanciful in terms of finding others attractive or liking them. it's somewhat silly, how she develops a crush or two, but she's very much open when it comes to that. she prefers not to settle with one other, and will gladly (usually) settle for two or three, in their own little 'herd' of love. it's a belief of hers that everyone should love everyone, and she doesn't see why it should be maintained to just one being. being open with emotions is usually her thing though, meaning she may or may not come off as a bit much at first. don't be put off though, she's a sweet creature that will look past any exterior to the interior and see who they really are. looks don't matter to her.
THAT BEING SAID Araxes has definitely come a long way since she's first stepped hoof in Novus. her time in Denocte has molded her to more wise and more of a scholar and healer, working closely with the people and learning from them, loving them. she's trusting by nature, and has learned the meaning of to trust too much. her eyes have been opened, and rather than fester and simmer (though she's still hurt recently) she's beginning to see things as they really are. she's developed since i first introduced her, growing more mature and less fanciful and daydreamy, focusing on her tasks as well as becoming more empathetic to others around her.
History
Here comes the best part! Tell us about their past... the good and the ugly.
araxes was strange from birth, in some terms. she was born normally, well, almost normally. there was something a little strange about her. her parents weren't sure what to do with her, or what was wrong with her when she was born and had two budding wings nestled behind her ears. it was a strange sight, though not entirely unwelcome. they loved her the same as any parents would love a daughter.
she was raised normally, and as she grew, so did the wings, carefully stretching and growing feathers, as well as fluttering and moving on their own when she was excited. they became a tell tale thing for her moods, fluffing up when happy and flapping, tucking in close when scared, sticking out when angry. to her, having the wings was a normal thing.
most of the herd she grew up with were polyamorous lovers, meaning her parents had each other as well as a couple others in their family. this meant that araxes had plenty of attention when she was born, and could be passed around the adults to be cared for when someone was feeling ill or just needed a day off. it was a wonderful system, and one that wholly imprinted upon her.
when she was two she said her goodbyes to her parents, and wandered on her own. for a year she was on her own, picking up new knowledge and learning what she can. she's made friends, and she's made enemies, just as any normal person does. however, when coming upon novus, she found herself gravitating toward the courts and their gods, finally settling in the night court. while she wasn't exactly night court material, she found it to be a home, and over the last year she began to learn of others and more on the stories that filled the lands she had come upon.
it's still strange to her to see monogamy, and she doesn't wholly understand it herself and likely never will. however, she's here to stay and to learn more about others, despite strange looks that she gets sometimes when she walks by with the wings on her head. they're still a tell-tale sign of things, always pinpointing her mood.
more often than not she's spotted in the neutral lands, always wandering in an attempt to learn more about the world around her. this allows her to meet those that would be in other courts as well, and she enjoys having new faces to meet and greet.
SINCE NOVUS however, she's stuck more to her court. She learns about the others as well, has learned, and has gathered much knowledge about them. She's been with Denocte through and through, even when torn by her choices. She's found in the Night Court library with her books and herbs, her salves, her potions, her tea. Her knowledge.
Sovereign Questions
Why would your character be a good candidate to lead that Court?
Araxes has learned and developed since I first created her. While at first, she wouldn't have made a good Sovereign, she's come to line up her ideals with the Court and due to the recent events of the gate closing (among other things), she's grown leaps and bounds. She would fight for her people, despite being a pacifist, and she loves them through and through. While not the most intimidating creature, she's grown more wise over time with having a family and pushing through struggles. She can and will take on challenges head on to bring Denocte to the glory it should have.
What would be their goals as Sovereign? What would they do with their new power?
First off, gathering more members. While the gate closing was something that caused many to leave, she would be welcoming and attempting to bring in members once more. She doesn't want to wipe away what happened, she wants them to all learn from it, to grow stronger and more bonded, to learn they needn't hide or fear anyone in power. She would likely toss up a festival at first (she actually wanted to but there were no other champions to convene with to launch the idea omg), but would also immediately move to the other courts and patch up bonds and form treaties and new hopes that things can be put behind them. She is not the past sovereigns, and will do her utmost to put herself away from them. Other than rebuilding what has been torn down, Araxes will seek out to strengthen their bond with Caligo (now that she has shown her face) and perhaps learn that it's not the best to blame the deity that can't intervene.
You've got us convinced. Is there anything else you'd like to add?
I love you guys and this made my muse explode omg. Good luck to everyone auditioning as well <3 I don't have much else to add
Black-eyed flowers spatter the fields. Cool wind blows through swaths of bluegrass at the foot of the Arma Mountains. The soft white noise of crickets blooms from the dirt. Overhead, what might be this year’s harvest moon shimmers a strange shade of blood-red, shedding thin, warm light onto the path below, a path that Bexley Briar is traversing with iron-willed dedication.
No longer is she Solterra’s golden girl. The Regent’s gilded skin has gone dull under a fine layer of dust; the blue of her eyes has lost its ocean turbulence; what magic used to play over her, a veil of sparkles and light, is buried deep and locked away. Even the chain around her neck seems to have faded, mattified, lost its metallic glow, and its place against her throat is cast into darkness by the shadow of her clenched jaw. The scene is ugly. It is desperate. It is a strange, awful sight to see when it lives on the skin of a girl who has never, ever, been ugly nor desperate.
Gods are unkind, she has realized, and so is everyone else. What is there left to be beautiful for?
Gods are unkind, or at least hers are. They are falsities. They are syrup dreams spun from want and blood, dreams that she has fallen out of far too many times. Una did not save her, and neither did Solis. It is dizzying to look up at the sky and think of aloneness rather than guidance, but perhaps that is the price Bexley has paid to see the truth, the now-unhidden adult world, the sub-surface, real universe that promises little and delivers on less, a universe fashioned from teeth and blood and bone. That awful reality bangs a sickening drumbeat in her chest. The reality of aloneness. Of estrangement. Of a syrup dream gone bad.
The scar on her face throbs suddenly. like it has its own heartbeat.
A soft old tune plays over the fields, drifting sweet and somber from the lantern-lit marketplace that opens up ahead of her. Bodies swarm the streets. Gauzy yellow light ripples over the cobblestone. It is a familiar scene, everything from the ribbon-draped stalls to the heady smell of incense, the sight of opalescent figures wandering the inner court.
She knew them, or had known them. Acton, Raglan, Reichenbach - so many Crow boys accidentally stealing her heart, and all of them ghosts, now, in the crowded streets of Denocte. All childish loveliness and unbridled enthusiasm. Bexley’s heart aches to see their specters walking the cobblestone streets, to see all her past loves gone and faded like the last bars of an old song. A choking feeling sits stony in her throat, pricks her eyes with the brackish threat of tears, and for a moment she feels her will waver. But it is only a moment, and when it passes he is all herself again, focused, driven, hiding her heartsickness with the deft hand of a practiced illusionist.
Bexley is nothing if not stubborn, and she knows what she has come for.
A crowd stands clustered in the center of the court, whispering, shuddering, unsettled. Above their heads a darkness glimmers and twists, like an oil-slick on water; wild onyx eyes shimmer black against the blue night; tiny prinpicks of stars wink in and out of existence against the satin-dark of Caligo’s skin, and from behind the mob, Bexley gazes upon Her with an unsure kind of reverence, as a deer worships a hunter, as a cynic worships Ragnarok.
She steps forward.
It is a quiet kind of brutality that convinces the crowd to let her through, a respect for the grimness in those dirty blue eyes. Clothed in dust and stubbornness, head high, shoulders tensed, gaze fiery, when Bexley’s voice leaves her lips it is iron and silk, righteous as ever, tangled with want: If you know me, you know we are the same.
Gods always behave like the people who make them -
She tilts a sad, cunning smile toward the deity, a smile lit with teeth and wolfish charm. Solis betrayed us both. I pray to no church but that which serves its people, and yours does. Rage, stifling and ice-cold, rushes through her chest like frost over petals, and Bexley has to consciously steel her breath so it won’t sound like a death rattle, but she does, and meets Caligo's gaze with fierceness. Reichenbach loved me, and I loved him, and this court. Every Crow in Denocte has seen me visit. Every politician on this continent has heard me come to the defense of Denocte. Even when it looked like they didn’t deserve it.
Her voice softens, fades.
We deserve what loves us. Is that worthy enough for you?
About the RPer
Thanks for auditioning! Let's start with your name.
RB!
Great! How old are you?
18!
Have you ever held a Position of Power before?
Yes! Bex is regent in Solterra right now, and on my last site I had a main character who was a herd leader for multiple years IC before his daughter (also played by me) inherited it.
What aspect of Novus are you most excited about?
I love our community and how staff are able to keep the site exciting with plots and IC events multiple times a year. Novus is the first place in a long time that I’ve seen with this amount of continued effort put into it extending past the first couple months of opening.
General Information
Introduce us to your character. Who are they?
Bexley
How many years of life have they experienced?
5 [Year 497]
We have to ask... what is their gender?
Female [She/Her/Hers]
Along those lines, who are they most attracted to?
Bisexual
They're gorgeous! How would you best describe them?
Bexley presents a beautiful picture of femininity and she knows it. Built short and more stocky than fragile, her huge blue eyes, thick reddish lashes and delicate facial structure give off the immediate impression of someone who is nothing more than innocent and attractive, but the smile on her face is more often mischievous than it is genuinely pleased. What detracts from this look of supposed innocence is the large, raw scar that splits her face into two equal sectors, trailing from just under her left eye to the corner of her mouth. It is often the first thing people notice when they look at her; the tale of the wound is a touchy subject. An excess of off-white curls make up her mane and tail, and are so thick that Bexley’s body sometimes seems overwhelmed by the amount of hair attached to it; most often the ways are kept loose, but sometimes they are braided or pinned back for battles or important first impression. Her coat is a very yellowish chestnut that looks entirely golden in direct sunlight, and minimal sabino markings have splashed her with uneven white stockings that reach past the knee on every leg, as well as a white facial marking that covers the bridge of her nose and coats the underside of her face up to the throat while leaving her cheeks and forehead chestnut. A thin gold chain hangs around her neck, an accessory that she’s been wearing for the vast majority of her life - as she’s grown into it, it’s become snug around the base of her jaw, but Bexley refuses to take it off, as it was given to her by her parents and remains her only reminder of the home she left behind. Her brother has a matching one, and so the necklace, while not a full show of Bexley’s childhood wealth, is extremely important to her. When she speaks, her voice is always deeper than one would expect it to be, feminine but low pitched and smoky; she laughs loudly and smirks more than she smiles. The scent of rosewater and incense smoke, always follow her.
Personality
No one is perfect... what are their positive and negative traits?
Intelligent, ambitious, attentive, dedicated, friendly, confident
Petty, righteous, self-absorbed, unempathetic
They sound interesting. Would you mind expanding on their personality?
Catty, loudmouthed and extroverted, Bexley operates on her own wavelength, which is that of a girl who has an excess of confidence and a lack of the common sense and humility that holds most people back from reaching their full potential. Dangerous situations, risk-taking and petty revenge are her specialty, though you’d never guess it by looking: purposeful plays off her very feminine appearance, complete with eyelash batting and girlish giggles, lead people to think that she’s nothing but a dumb blonde. Bex can be easily swayed by compliments and the attention she gets for looks, and while she prefers to run her schemes very independently, she’ll never turn down an opportunity to be worshipped and put in the spotlight. This, combined with Bexley’s penchant for all things beautiful ,and the materialism ingrained in her since birth, makes up the classic Barbie side of her personality - but her love of playing ditsy and cute is only a coverup for her real personality, that of a girl that is overtly ambitious, conniving, and will steamroll almost anyone to get what she wants.
She’s turned a 180 since her days as a calm, quiet child and grew instead into a mercurial being, a hedonist at heart who obeys whatever wants float through her head and remains focused on herself only. For all her practiced planning and trickery, Bexley is still naturally impulsive. Though she doesn’t do it often, she does know how to hold her tongue, and always seeks to learn about others before she reveals anything about herself.
Attentive and quick on the uptake, Bexley considers herself a problem solver and is not easily spooked by challenges. She trusts her gut and will happily take on basket cases or help other people with their deep-rooted issues if she thinks it’ll help her in the long run. A social butterfly, Bex has an extremely limited inner circle but a way of making everyone feel like they’re friends with her anyway, bouncing from group to group in order to find out what she wants to. An absolute refusal to lose her games and a lack of genuine sympathy makes Bexley - though she’s often underestimated - an unexpected but dangerous enemy, as well as a valuable addition to any circles she finds worthy of her time.
The rare soul who is able to crack through both Bexley’s catty exterior and Machiavellian second layer will find someone who has been shaped by trauma since her earliest days. Untrusting and violent as she is, she cares deeply for the people she loves and houses an undying loyalty to those who have been good to her. She is secretly soft-hearted. Her elevated sense of righteousness, and almost-maternal need to protect herself and others, makes her formidable when it comes to what she loves.
History
Here comes the best part! Tell us about their past... the good and the ugly.
A golden child since the moment she was born, Bexley’s childhood was entirely sunshine and riches, filled with the doting over-affection and under-discipline of her parents, the immediate respect and worship of those that lived in her homeland, and, best of all, the built-in partner in crime of her brother, Laszlo.
For millennia, the Briars had ruled over Greer-Briar, the populace protected by the watchful eye of the demigod Una; her daughter was Bexley’s mother, who married a mortal foreigner and birthed an heir and heiress to the Briar throne. Being the youngest sibling in the family, and a girl, Bexley was coddled immensely. Provided with jewels, attention, and whatever else her heart desired, the time she spent at home was blissful. The last princess of a well-respected family absolutely brimming with royal blood, it would be hard for anyone not to get sucked into the black-hole of riches and entitlement, and Bexley was as impulsive as the next teenage girl; she let herself fall into a lazy, hedonistic lifestyle, with days marked only by new pieces of jewelry or trips to the coast with her friends. But the highlight of her days always remained her brother. She and Laszlo would go off on adventures through the mountains, wreak havoc on the other kids, and for years used their blissful ignorance to avoid the lessons that would eventually be pushed on them as they learned to become royalty.
At a little past two years old, her world began to dissolve. It took quite a while for her to notice; at that point, Bexley was still extremely sheltered, and stubborn enough to see only what she wanted to see. But eventually, the unrest of the common kingdom - one she had considered entirely separate from her perfect family - began to bleed into her life. Her parents held hushed arguments; jewels went missing from their stash; Laszlo was taken from her more and more, in order to attend emergency meetings and attempt to grasp his place in politics. Alone for the first time, Bexley’s hedonism ran as rampant as ever, but with no one to go to she became secluded and bitter, finding the sharp, angry side of her personality that had been missing previously.
And then the climax came, in an explosion of civil struggle that burned Greer-Briar to the ground. People were angry. Too long had Una ruled with and iron fist, and all the Briars had to be punished for it. Bexley had no idea, had only just learned what anger even felt like for her, couldn’t possible imagine the rage of the common people and the vendetta they held against her family. The Briars were perfect in Bexley’s head, but the citizens they lorded over suffered for their greed and pride, lacking in resource and community due to Bexley’s family’s inane control over them. Hundreds of years of Briar tyranny had leached their homeland dry. Families had been split, commoners imprisoned for simply disagreeing with the king, slaves taken and heirlooms stolen, and people were tired of it. With the leaders of the revolution knowing there was only one way to end the Briar lineage, Laszlo was executed.
Bexley took a look at the body of her beloved brother and knew that there was nothing left for her. Her parents would be dethroned, her riches taken, her status stripped, her pride run over. She had one chance to leave - start over, and be worshipped properly. Despite everything, her confidence had not wavered. Ichor, not blood, still ran through her veins. Her intelligence would be wasted if her brain rotted away inside her skull, cleaved in half by some angry commoner - that intelligence needed to be recognized, but it surely wouldn’t by these people. Stealing away in the middle of the night without a word to her parents, Bexley steeled her resolve and found her way to lands unknown.
Since arriving in Novus, Bexley has expanded her horizons considerably. While she’s risen to power in the ranks of the Day Court, not even Solterra can keep her locked in place; Bex wanders often and is known to make friends with the strangest of people, from the farthest reaches of any court. Having proven herself in battle against the Teryr, serving Seraphina, and standing up to Solis, her confidence and stubbornness has only increased as she pushes against her boundaries and fights tooth and claw to defy people’s expectations of her.
Sovereign Questions
Why would your character be a good candidate to lead that Court?
Bexley knows very well how it feels to be shunned by Solis, and, in a larger sense, how it feels to be shunned by her peers - people have often disregarded her due to her looks and not taken seriously despite her intelligence. Similar to Caligo and the rest of Denocte, Bex is very passionate about what she loves and has learned watchfulness after years of trauma, but she remains stubborn in the face of adversity and will fight tooth and nail for what she believes in, devoted to her own goals and the very few people she considers important. Bexley relates to much of Denocte and Caligo’s struggles, and personally believes that because of her close friendship with Reich and many of the Crows, she should be the one to step up and save Reich’s reputation and the Court that they loved.
What would be their goals as Sovereign? What would they do with their new power?
Bexley’s goals as Sovereign would be to rebrand Denocte as a Court full of trustworthy and loving individuals, rather than one of only thieves and tricksters; she has seen the beauty that the Night Court holds, and would not want to hide it away from the world. Ever the partier, it’s likely Bexley would throw lavish festivals and bestow gifts upon the other Sovereigns to rebuild Denocte’s political connections, while attempting to convince the populace that the only way to achieve lasting peace is to open themselves to the other courts. A more severe punishment would be put into place for those who threaten Denocte’s political safety. In Bexley’s eyes, forming alliances is of utmost importance in order to retain the Night Court’s vibrant culture and allow them to live in freedom.
You've got us convinced. Is there anything else you'd like to add?
I love you guys and I’m so excited to see everyone’s auditions!
07-06-2018, 01:48 AM - This post was last modified: 07-07-2018, 10:58 AM by inkbone - Edit Reason: fixing table so it wouldn't break the signature! <3 -
I'll be a stone, I'll be the hunter,
The tower that casts a shade
***
To pass the night nestled against the Tarrasque's leathery neck, made safe in the cage of one of her loosely-wrapped arms, felt like preconsciousness. Her pulse beat a slow, steady tattoo against his flesh with the unseen rivers of blood cascading through her veins. Her breaths kept a low, thunderous rhythm that enveloped him in walls of sound.
For the first time in the countless nights, he slept like he had when he was a colt: deeply, completely.
But the night did pass.
Raymond woke smoothly, spurred on by a sense of awareness, of purpose, that had taken root in his breast. Ruth slept on, her mind a pillar of warmth pressed catlike against his own. For a brief moment he weighed the logistics of scaling her furled arm and securing freedom for himself from her unconscious possessiveness. He weighed, too, the consequences of staying exactly where he was - but again, the pangs of purpose spurred him forward. However great the agony of separation after so brief a time reunited, duty called him elsewhere with a cold and insistent drumming.
Ruth.
The slow, deep sussuration of her breathing became a guttural, plaintive groan as she too began to stir. A wash of indistinct color poured through the link, and he placed the plane of his white-streaked forehead against the curve of her mighty jaw. I need to leave for a little while.
No, she groused sleepily, curling her arm more tightly around him. Stay.
Raymond shook his head, I have things to do. What passed through the bond then was a plea in pictures and emotions instead of words, as clear to him as when she would make yowled demands at his feet.
I'll go with you. He laughed loudly - a sound equally amused and sad. He was no brutal warlord to allow a machine of conquest and destruction to walk alongside him into the capitol of Denocte, carrying in her wicked, bladed shadow the very same threat of tyranny that had lurked here beneath a dragon's wings. Perhaps someday - for he could never condemn her for the reality of her existence - but not today. Not yet.
Ruth groaned plaintively and the sound echoed like whalesong through the mountain range; after a moment, the long fingers opened like the petals of a jagged flower, releasing him back to the outside world. The silence of the wilderness descended upon him like a thunderclap after so long spent cocooned within the Tarrasque's grasp.
Thank you, my dear.
Her tail switched unhappily against the ground, crushing a small boulder, but she did not rise with him. Turning with fresh resolve toward the heart of Denocte, he allowed his blade to skip lightly along the rusty pebbles of her skin in an affectionate, reluctant farewell.
The time for resting had past. Now, he would act.
---
The journey to Night Court's center from the most secluded corner of the Arma Mountains gave Raymond ample time to reflect. His soul ached with the bruises inflicted by revelation after brutal revelation, throbbing with scars of an intellectual and emotional awakening he would never have expected to come so late in his life.
He had come for truth and to chase away the specter of a dragon and the creeping rot of a neglected throne. He had come to protect Calliope from the wildfire raging in her own heart, to avenge the white flashes of fear in Isra's eyes, to make certain that every uncertain, darting glance cast in the streets and every flinch at a bird on the wing would be answered with steel and blood and the reverberating peal of justice.
He had come for all that; what he'd gotten was silence and then the agonizing flames of rebirth, forging him anew as the waves of his own making broke upon his shores.
There would be no judgment for Reichenbach. Whether he had vanished against his will or fled rather than face the charges leveled against him, neither he nor his regime had returned to take up the mantle of their rule, and in the vacuum that remained Raymond felt a sense of belonging take root in his wanderer's heart. He'd risen from the ashes of a broken paradigm; he could give that back to Denocte.
The first thing he saw as he arrived was Caligo, a black panther glittering with diamonds as she stalked amongst the other mortals that her summons had attracted. His expression was stone, his eyes stormy, and a presence stirred at the distant corners of his mind as Ruth grew restless with the depth of his severity. He had never met a god he could trust - he was not about to make a mockery of this meeting by pretending to do so now - but he knew as any tactician would know that trust and partnership could be quite separate things indeed, as long as their motivations aligned.
And he wasn't about to scold her like a petulant child for her absence in the face of Denocte's suffering. It was not Caligo who had brought the kingdom low, but something within the kingdom itself. Why should anyone expect Caligo to step in and set it right? Any of them was capable of accomplishing as much, if they would but step up in earnest.
The red stallion stepped forward, radiating the same primal fierceness that had raced Calliope across the beach and called Reichenbach to answer for the fruits of his declining regime. He was a wild and primitive creature, naked and unashamed before her, and neither the diamonds cascading like starfall from her flesh nor the dark infinity of her eyes bade him avert his eyes as he addressed all gathered before the goddess of night.
"My name is Raymond, and I didn't come here to sell myself like a fat pig at market." Words are wind, and no mortal here could hope to judge him by what he chose to say, and Caligo wouldn't - for he could easily say anything in an effort to impress. His voice carried through the crowd with a bard's relentless confidence, projected rather than shouted for the benefit of all in attendance. To Caligo specifically, he continued, "You are the Night Mother; I am certain you already know my worth."
"You know what I risked for the sake of your children when they were mere strangers - and what more I'd pay for the sake of those I love and serve."
He had faced dragons and demons and pestilent beasts, waded through filth to cleanse the souls of the innocent, devoured the sins of others that they might live even one day in liberty. He had stepped into the ashes of Denocte's blighted mountain pass and seen soaring potential and a kindred tenacity in its resilience. He wanted to see the sky sparkling with diamonds again, as undoubtedly it had in its vaunted past.
"I ask only for the opportunity to do so."
***
Raymond
And at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
When the man comes around.
About the RPer
Thanks for auditioning! Let's start with your name.
@Odeen
Great! How old are you?
28
Have you ever held a Position of Power before?
I have played multiple leaders on a variety of different games - from a stallion on a harem-based game who was king of his particular island for nearly a full real-life year to characters that were leaders on more kingdom-based sites. Some of those characters were elected through an IC or OOC election, others challenged for their positions and won, then defended those positions.
I have been a staff member/administrator on multiple RPGs in the past, including one game I co-created.
I have also held officer positions in a couple of my World of Warcraft raiding guilds. As healer officer, I dedicated myself to being knowledgeable about all of the healing classes or at least know who to point people to if they had questions or needed to improve, and I was also in charge of organizing healers on a fight by fight basis so we could progress through difficult content. Most recently I was a raid leader for about 6 months, and in that position my role was to research and explain raid mechanics and organize our raiding roster to make sure we had the classes and roles we needed to get things done.
My favorite part about taking on a leadership role is being able to be a bit more intimately involved in whether a kingdom or team succeeds or fails, and being able to "lead by example" if you will by approaching everything with enthusiasm and inspiring others to do the same, step out of their comfort zone, and grow in-character and out-of-character all at once. My least favorite part I would have to say is having to come to terms with my own limitations. You can't possibly interact with everyone at once, so I had to learn to prioritize and optimize my time. You can't possibly make everyone happy with your choices as a leader all the time, so I learned how to be fair, logical, and transparent with my assessments and expectations. I know that whenever I hold a position of power, other people are counting on me to be there, be honest, and be a positive force for the whole team.
What aspect of Novus are you most excited about?
My favorite thing about Novus is the richness of the lore, and the fact that players themselves can impact the lore either by creating adoptable characters or by creating whole mini-factions. There is a lot of depth and organic growth in the game, and if you're looking for connections or a purpose for your character it's pretty easy to either find a corner to fit into - or be the change you want to see in the world (literally!) by decorating a corner for yourself. I also love the frequent events that are mainly about mixing of characters that wouldn't otherwise meet on a regular basis, like seasonal festivals hosted by each herd. The world feels very vibrant and alive, and I've loved being a part of that in some way.
General Information
Introduce us to your character. Who are they?
@Raymond
How many years of life have they experienced?
9 [Year 492 Winter]
We have to ask... what is their gender?
Male [He/Him/His]
Along those lines, who are they most attracted to?
Heterosexual
What breeds run in their veins?
Technically he's full-blooded Rendari - for the sake of build, he's got a sort of mutty thoroughbred look
They're gorgeous! How would you best describe them?
To the uncritical eye, Raymond would be remembered only by the bright copper-red of his coat. A wiser individual would recognize him for what he is: either a powerful ally or a dangerous foe. He has a slender, sinewy build, and carries himself with the measured restraint of a viper coiled to strike. His martial upbringing is carved into the intentional way that he moves, the sheer economy of motion. His mane is sparse where it grows at all, and he keeps it cropped close to his crest.
He has a long, dexterous, leonine tail reminiscent of a unicorn. Also reminiscent of a unicorn, he has a single horn, but very much unlike a unicorn his horn grows at the end of his tail in the form of a wickedly sharp scythe.
Now the obsession with precision makes a bit more sense, eh?
Raymond's tail blade is not just for show. Maintaining its deadly edge is a matter of racial pride and maintaining his edge is more of a matter of personal pragmatism. Raymond has spent the better part of his adult life alone and prepares for the worst case scenario. If his charm cannot get him out of a tight spot, his combat skills will.
Personality
No one is perfect... what are their positive and negative traits?
Positive: Cunning, just, thoughtful, pragmatic, tenacious, patient
Negative: Vindictive, independent, slow to trust, pessimistic
They sound interesting. Would you mind expanding on their personality?
ENTJ: The Commander
Raymond is an observer, first and foremost. While not quiet by any stretch of the term - often he speaks first and longest, and enjoys engaging others in conversation - he views interaction as a tool to gain information or persuade others. He will wring every ounce of value out of empty chatter and put it to use if he can. He has a well-developed sense of humor and uses it often, which makes the rare times he loses his temper all the more shocking when they occur.
He is affable as often as he can be and treats others with genuine respect until they prove themselves unworthy of it. As far as Raymond is concerned, the importance of one's political station is either completely unrelated to or negatively correlated with the respect that they deserve. He enjoys giving gifts to those he cares about, and is pretty good at remembering things about other individuals even if he's only met them once. People are important to him, even if he keeps very few of them close enough to potentially hurt him.
Raymond keeps a cool head, doesn't spoil for a fight, and generally won't willingly get into combat unless he has no other choice or has already guaranteed a positive outcome for himself. He adheres pretty strictly to the "measure twice, cut once" school of thinking and isn't afraid of speaking frankly with others. He is what one might call a voice of reason. This restraint, patience, and prudence are seen as necessary because, when he does get tilted, he tends to tilt off the face of the planet and will stop at nothing to destroy or dismantle whoever or whatever has wronged him.
He has a strong sense of personal justice but little patience for any concept of institutional law and order, so his methods of achieving what he deems to be right can become quite grey at times. Having been burned by the establishment once, he would prefer to defer to his own standards and principles, and views reason as the most potent tool for determining morality. He values loyalty above all else and does not break ties lightly. As such, he still views Calliope as his queen in a way despite them having left both her kingdom and her throne long, long behind, and will go to great lengths to assist or defend her.
History
Here comes the best part! Tell us about their past... the good and the ugly.
While exactly what Raymond is is far less important than who he has become, it might be beneficial to know that he began his life as a respected yet unremarkable member of a tribal race called rendari horses, which were known for their brightly colored coats, bladed tails, and fierce dispositions. The rendari took pride in their rituals and discipline - a necessity in a society where even the very young carry weapons - and Raymond would have lived and died as a defender of his clan but for the cruelty of ambition.
Where some preferred to lend their strengths toward conquest, the dal'rend of Raymond's clan hoped only for peace and prosperity among his people. Neighboring societies made far better allies than victims in his eye, and years of honest toil had carved out a stronghold and a budding diplomatic network with other rendari clans and foreigners alike. But some among the clan thirsted quietly for the glorious tales told of blademasters and bloodshed from the days of old. They chose to practice their new ethos first upon the dal'rend and those who shared his vision, murdering them in their sleep before they could raise the alarm.
For the last time in his life, Raymond was blinded by his own naivete.
Only a warning from the lips of a dying comrade spared him from the same grisly fate. Faced with the prospect of a valiant, suicidal charge against the usurpers, Raymond was forced to flee.
After that day, he seemed to disappear as far as the clan could tell, and the fate of one wounded exile was no bother to them when there was conquest to be had. But the new dal'rend would find as they worked to cement their power that the wilderness suddenly seemed more treacherous for his war parties; allies dried up like water in the desert. Strangers anticipated their tactics and thwarted them more often than not. The rituals that had kept them and their blades keen and ready for generations were suddenly a crippling weakness.
Raymond moved on only when word came that the new dal'rend had fallen, his stronghold left for the carrion birds. He carried nothing with him but himself - every trinket his words had bought traded away again just as quickly, every drop of blood spilt to further his cause left to stain only his memories - and the lessons of his ugly work. He watched everyone with the distrustful scrutiny of a hungry dog and exploited their strength to fortify his weakness. He fought with information where his tail blade could not hope to reach. Honor was a child's fantasy. Even the sacred traditions of his people were not too high a price to pay for justice. He could never show his face among the rendari horses again.
With no home of his own Raymond did what any self-respecting outcast would do and started walking. Various shenanigans ensued - none of which are collectively important, except to say that they happened and served to propel him forward in his own narrative, hardening him against such fancies as hope, charity, and law - until he arrived at Ravos.
It was full of all the intrigue and dangerous tribalism that had done him so poorly in the past, but the land was steeped in strange magic and preyed upon his curiosity. It was then that he met Calliope.
She was more beast than unicorn. He offered his strength to her cause at first by the sheer ballsiness of her pitch, but grew respect the honesty of her savage elegance and her reckless pursuit of a sort of justice he understood well. The allegiance he had meant to give as a means to obtain leverage for himself grew into proper loyalty the better he came to know her. When the rift called them to leave Ravos and Velius behind, he did not hesitate.
But the rift was a vicious thing. He arrived to find Shrike - Calliope's closest companion - dead, and Calliope herself mad with vengeful fury. Only the cool logic of his own harsh lesson, now long past, was sufficient to calm her bloodwrath. But she was not one to be harnessed and led by well-placed words; she was a roiling sea in a tempest, depthless passion and terrible conviction. He might save her life by soothing her rage, but nothing could turn her from her hunt. Accompanied by his new companion Ruth - a strange hairless kitten found near death in the western riftlands and nursed back to health by Florentine - Raymond returned to Velius, to the seat of Calliope's once and future power, and returned with a silver cuff he had forged both as a focus for her power and a token of his loyalty.
He developed a strong bond with the spirited kitten on their shared journey, though he would never have admitted his fondness for her out loud. Instead he poured all of his remaining spellforging power into the delicate sapphire-adorned collar she wore. The enchanted collar would protect its wearer from virtually all harm, both physical and magical, thus ensuring her safety. Together they returned to the Rift, where he presented Calliope with the token from her lost kingdom.
When the rift fell to ruin, Raymond left with her, but not without cost. This time, as they crossed through the tumultuous Rift, Ruth lost her grip on his back and was torn loose, tumbling deep into the heart of the rift.
He reunited with Calliope in Terrastella and, while coming to terms with the death of Ruth, he became aware of trouble stirring in Novus and set out to gather as much information from others he met as he could. Several individuals he met - including a young visitor from Denocte - spoke of strange or troubling developments in Denocte, but when he attempted to investigate he found the gates had been sealed and the land was somehow scorched.
It was not until the portentous developments on the Summit of Veneror Peak, when at last the gates to Denocte were opened again, that Raymond was at last able to obtain the answers he sought. When he reached the Night Court he encountered Isra, a mare that had been caught up in the events that had blighted the Arma Mountains and sealed Denocte away from the rest of Novus. She told Raymond how she had nearly been trapped by the dragonbreath turned against the regime's own people, and when they demanded an explanation for their actions the regime refused to heed them and locked themselves away. Given how doggedly he had fought against corruption, tyranny, and cruelty in his life, he could not sit idly by and let Denocte fall to ruin. He chose to become a Denoctean himself, so that he could elevate and revive the struggling kingdom from within.
Sovereign Questions
Why would your character be a good candidate to lead that Court?
While Raymond may at times seem flippant and coarse, one cannot deny the passion with which he pursues his goals once he is set on a path. Wherever he goes, he seeks to preserve freedom - not just his own, which he undoubtedly prizes - but the freedom of others, however much or little he knows them. He will freely offer advice or counsel to others, pulling from his diverse life experience. Privately he wants everyone to one day become their best selves, as he believes he was robbed of the chance himself thanks to the twists and turns his life took.
He is highly observant and analytical, rarely acting rashly, and holds skepticism as one of the greatest virtues one can have. It is not enough to tell someone you are a force for good - you must demonstrate it, and until someone has demonstrated their character when the chips are really down he will not trust them. While he understands the practical benefits of tradition, he doesn't believe there are any sacred cows. If an individual, a group, or cultural norm is exploiting or harming people who cannot defend themselves, Raymond will do what he must to cut out the rot at its roots for the greater good.
What would be their goals as Sovereign? What would they do with their new power?
First and foremost, Raymond would do what he could to help repair any damage that may have been done to Denocte's reputation by the actions of its previous leadership and the subsequent closing of the gates. He would impress upon the citizens of Denocte that while it can be good to be careful before trusting others, there is greater strength and security to be found at home by harboring more open relationships throughout the rest of Novus - exactly the same way that they have built relations with societies from foreign lands to establish the Night Markets.
He would formally do away with institutions of the Night Court whose sole purpose was to mete out fear, pain, and injustice at the individual whim of their leader, and promote a stronger Denoctean society by incentivizing citizens to learn from each other's strengths, weaknesses, triumphs, and mistakes, thereby lifting each other up as a unit.
While Denocte is traditionally a band of misfits, represented by a goddess who herself was scorned by the other gods, he would work toward a more open and accepting society because the kingdom gains nothing but turmoil by visiting the exact same scorn they suffered upon others for absolutely no reason. He would also insist upon being a more accessible and available leader - in part because he finds that the best way to resolve any problem is to see it coming before it becomes a problem, in other part because he really prefers the outdoors anyway (haha) - and do what he can to appoint a regime that supports and enables those ideals. He is a fan of get-togethers, so he would love to be able to build and strengthen bonds by hosting events and parties, and potentially arranging friendly competition in battles and stealths between kingdoms.
You've got us convinced. Is there anything else you'd like to add?
While one could hardly say that he bleeds Denoctean blood quite yet, he has seen both pain and potential in the kingdom and wants to do everything he can to help it flourish. If Caligo were to grant him that opportunity, he would be able to demonstrate that he is as loyal to Denocte as he is to Calliope. Also, I've personally got some great ideas to expand the lore and get some fresh blood into the court!
aut viam inveniam aut faciam
07-06-2018, 08:03 PM - This post was last modified: 07-06-2018, 08:32 PM by Raymond
here was an emptiness in the streets, a lack of the brevity she had grown so used to filling these court walls. The torchlight flickered on, bodies passed her by, hooves clicking on the cobblestones, but they celebrated nothing. Not the little victories, not the everyday joys that normally made them smile. The regime had first shut them in, locking them off from the rest of Novus, and then they had opened the gates, walked to the summit of Veneror and then they had disappeared. As the days had gone by, Jezanna had tried and failed to search for answers. There was nobody left for her to seek them from, nobody who seemed to know what had happened or why it had come to this.
In the end, Jezanna and turned to herself. Could she have done something different? No, most likely not, but she could do something now. She could accept that things were changed irrevocably, they were changed irrevocably, and that there was no erasing hurt, or pain, or mistakes, only learning and growing from them. She had realized that, standing out in the dry grasses of Sideralis Prairie, looking up at the fading night sky. How many times had she looked up at that same sky and wondered if her parents were looking up at their own sky and waiting for her, hoping she would come back to them? How many times had she stayed awake all night, pacing the streets, the library, the corridors, unable to break herself of the habit of tracing the heavens while the rest of the world slept.
The Night Court had been altered, affected more deeply than simply surface scars and burns. The pass would regrow, and it would grow back greener and more beautiful than before. With time, and care and attention, this Court would do the same. Given time, the people would regain the sparks that made them who they were, would maybe stop carrying ghosts on their backs quite so heavily. Jezanna wanted to do more, be more, for her home, her fellow citizens. What, though, was the right answer? What could she, a commoner, do that the regime did not, that others could not.
When the voice rang out through the skies it reverberated through her bones. Her heart thudded, her eyes widened. A shiver skipped down the length of her spine. Jezanna stopped where she walked the cobbled streets of the court and drew in a breath. Was it possible that the demigoddess of the night had come? She turned, pressing through the gathering crowd, her steel blue coat brushing up against bodies of black, gold, white and every color in between. All who were near gathered in the center court, pressing closer and closer to the demigoddess’ shadowy, diamond studded form. The were whispers, exclamations, anger and joy and then there was Caligo. Strong, statuesque, standing before the crowd with eyes like stars. For a moment, Jezanna forgot how to breathe.
And then, she composed herself, all shuddering skin and flickering lashes and unsteady heart, and she moved through the mass of bodies. She stood before the demigoddess of the night, patron deity of Denocte and she wondered: is this how the beings on her own world had felt, whenever she or her parents had stepped out of the heavens? She could not feel more mortal now than standing before the great sovereign of Novus’ night sky, but she also felt closer to the life she’d left behind than she had in months. There was a swelling in her, a rushing of warmth that she could only describe as belonging, as conviction. As purpose.
At last, Jezanna spoke.
“If you know me, if you know where I come from, who I am, then you know what I've done.” She paused, silver eyes calmly holding Caligo’s in her own, laying herself bare. She had no reason to hide anymore. She was Jezanna, daughter of the sun, Solace, and the moon, Lunaris. She had been the second moon. She had walked the sky, looked down over a world that was in her hands and not known enough to care for it properly. “We have both let people down,” she glanced at Araxes, brave, fiery Araxes, “The same as others have let these people down.” Her glance landed on Bexley, who she only knew from what she had heard, and Raymond, who she did not know of at all, and yet here they stood, before the demigoddess of the night. Jezanna was no longer immortal, perhaps, but she would always hold her deityship close. She could never forget what it meant to hold a nation in your hands, could never forget what it had taught her, about grace, about leadership, about choices.
She spoke of course of Eidolon, the very man who had dragged her here, taken her away from her home, her family, the ones she cared about. But it had been her own doing, the doing of her parents, that had made him feel like he had no other choice, that the only way to find love was to take it for himself. She knew that now. When her parents cast him out, Jezanna had said nothing, had never stepped in at his defense or to hear his story. But, he had been her people too, not just the ones who had inhabited her world since the beginning of time. Eidolon had been new, been different, but that didn't mean he deserved less, meant less than anyone else. The young moon had done to him what this world had done to Caligo.
Now, it was time to atone for it. Now, it was time to make a different choice.
“What Night Court needs, what your people, my people, our people need,” she said, glancing once more toward those standing before the demigoddess, “is a chance.” A chance to show that they were more than what circumstances and rumors and the past said they were. A chance to show that they were as capable of peace and deserving of understanding as anyone else. What they needed was someone who could give them a fresh start, to grow and to prosper and to thrive. “What they need is hope.” Hope for a future, where things would be different, for everyone. Caligo may have a choice to make, but her decision wouldn't only affect the Court that she called home, but every court and every being in Novus. If Jezanna could do something, anything, she would do it without hesitation.
Thanks for auditioning! Let's start with your name.
Katherine
Great! How old are you?
23
Have you ever held a Position of Power before?
I've held many in my years of RP, from brand new positions where I've created the lore, positions, etc. from the ground up, to where I've adapted to an already existing group and built upon it. Previously I held a leadership position for approximately a year and a half worth of OOC time, and currently I only hold a leadership position on my own site, which is a small project and would not interfere with my ability to hold a position of power here on Novus.
What I really enjoy most about having a character in a position of power is the ability to shape an IC people, to bring together characters and people, and to create events that everyone can enjoy, and it's why I seem to always come back to them again and again. I like creating things, building things, that everyone can enjoy, not just a select few. My least favorite aspect of leading I would say is that I can be a people pleaser. I love to take everyone's thoughts and opinions on board because their thoughts matter, but at times this can make it difficult to do things the way they need to be done. It's something I'm constantly working on and I believe recently I've been getting better with it.
What aspect of Novus are you most excited about?
One of my favorite things I first read about in the guidebook when I joined was bondeds. Never, on any site I’ve been a part of could characters have their own familiars. It’s a fantasy element that I love from books and films and although I really like magic I have to admit I am way more excited to give all my characters awesome bondeds someday. There’s a lot of things about Novus I love, from the community, to the world and its characters, and they're all reasons why I joined, but this was something that struck me as very unique coming from my specific RP background.
General Information
Introduce us to your character. Who are they?
Jezanna
How many years of life have they experienced?
4 [Year 498 Spring]
We have to ask... what is their gender?
Female [She/Her/Hers]
Along those lines, who are they most attracted to?
Pansexual
What breeds run in their veins?
Holsteiner X Arabian
Spectacular. How tall are they?
14.3 hh
Appearance
We'd love to see them, if they're not too shy! Here
They're gorgeous! How would you best describe them?
Jezanna is a simple beauty, swathed in the colors of a gentle, peaceful night. The majority of her coat is steel blue in color, fine and smooth to the touch. This is only broken by the rabicano-like marking on her abdomen, a soft white covering her belly with subtle striping and speckles almost like stars scattered throughout. This same soft and sprinkled white covers her throat and forms a sloping mark which begins around her eyes—which are shocking and silver against her dark haif, with the faintest of pupils—and narrows until it reaches the end of her nose. Jezanna’s hooves are cloven and seem to shimmer like moonlight, flecked with luminous sparks. Where her tail is long and flowing, dragging along the ground, her mane is stick straight and cropped abruptly at a sharp angle. Her mane is an inky blue, like a deep midnight sky, but her tail is quite the opposite; completely white at the end and fading halfway up into the color of her coat at the dock. From between her ears Jezanna sports a pair of antlers which match her mane in color, large and curving up and forward. Overall, she is of medium build—although a bit smaller at under 15 hh—with fine features and a sloped neck.
Personality
No one is perfect... what are their positive and negative traits?
Intelligent, kind, intuitive, inquisitive, loyal, social, passionate, stubborn, reserved, pacifistic, naive, free-spirited, idealistic
They sound interesting. Would you mind expanding on their personality?
Jezanna is a gentle soul who cares deeply for everyone she comes into contact with. She is empathetic and intuitive, often able to pick up on another's emotions which, she feels, helps to give her a better connection to whoever she meets. Her eyes display a true kindness that really knows no bounds regardless of who they look upon, and beneath that is an incredible intelligence that speaks to many more years of experience than she could possibly have seen according to her mortal age. When tested she can be cunning and clever and quick on her feet--though she lacks in much physical strength and fine tuned fighting ability--and a lot of this comes from her curious, childlike way of wanting to learn all that she can possibly learn. Jezanna is eager to ask questions and to discover the world around her, and she seeks out and soaks up knowledge like a sponge. In many ways she is wise beyond her years, but still very much youthful and naive.
The midnight girl has so little worldly experience, and although she has learned so much she still sees the good in experiences and people. She wants to believe that everyone has the best interests of those around them in mind the same way that she does, but Jezanna has come to realize that it's not true, that some people act selfishly and for themselves, regardless of how it affects the ones around them. She's learned that sometimes, in order to good by the ones you care about, sacrifices may need to be made. Jezanna has a passion for others and their wellbeing, and would quickly stand up for what she believes in without question. She believes in hope and in doing the right thing, even if it's not the easy thing. She believes that there is always a different, better path to take. Perhaps in that way she is still idealistic at heart.
Jezanna is very friendly, a regular social butterfly who enjoys getting to know others and make friends wherever and whenever she can, but she has yet to be completely honest about her life as a deity and the world she came from. She will always hold her past close to her, and be grateful for the lessons it has taught her, but her fear is that other may treat her differently because of it. To her, nothing is more important than who she is now and what she can do for the ones she cares about. She has a stubborn, independent streak, more often than not wanting to prove that she is strong and unafraid regardless of what she faces down. Not altogether unyielding but certainly not one to simply stand back and take what is thrown her way or allow herself to be controlled. Jezanna is a take destiny by the reins sort, unwilling to let things happen to her without doing something about it.
History
Here comes the best part! Tell us about their past... the good and the ugly.
Calafir was the beginning, and they created the sky, the clouds, the grass and the water. They built a world and then filled it with creatures of all shapes and sizes. Seeing that his children were unhappy, Calafir then made two more in his image who could lead his creations, guide them, and offer them light. Solace, the sun, was first and Lunaris, the moon, came later. Though they rarely crossed paths, in time, the two deities fell in love and from their passion was created a child. Jezanna was born swathed in stars and midnight skies. She was the second moon, smaller, gentler than her mother with a heart as warm as her father’s, and she roamed the skies more often than either of her parents. All loved her but she was young and sheltered.
Jezanna spent a lot of time on the ground, among the creations of Calafir, and she was rarely ever involved in the politics of the world by her parents. They allowed her to grow in her innocence and wonder without realizing the detriment it would have to their daughter. The first time they ever allowed her to watch them deal with such things as their godly duties required was the day a dark figure emerged from the shadows and introduced himself as Eidolon. He was nothing like anything Jezanna or her parents and seen before, and in their uncertainty they sent him away, telling him he had no choice but to leave their world, not even considering that it was his world, too. Knowing no better, the young moon simply watched him walk away, believing that her parents knew what they were doing and believing it was for the best.
He left, eventually, but he did not go alone.
Jezanna’s parents became unreasonable, paranoid even, after that meeting and they kept her from visiting the world even though she so longed to be with the ones she cared for down on the earth. Inexperienced and stubborn, she used a dark night to sneak out on her own and travel down to the ground. It was there that Eidolon found her, wrapping them both in his strange, shadowy magic and stole her away, transporting them away from their world. The pair landed on Novus and upon waking Jezanna came to figure out she no longer had any of her abilities, could no longer spend nights walking across the sky among the stars. Quickly she too realized that she had a ticking clock on her life. Her immortality had been stripped away and she was trapped.
In the beginning, Jezanna rejected the idea of any place being home other than the world she had been born to. She was angry with and resentful of Eidolon for stealing her away from everything she had ever known. In time, however, the young moon met new faces and made new friends and she discovered that she cared for the citizens of the kingdom she had found herself in. Slowly but surely Jezanna began to accept her new life and this new world until, one day she realized she felt it in her very soul: this was where she belonged. At some point, without her even noticing, Night Court and all of those within had become her home and her family and she was okay with it. She had stood with and for them and she knew that whatever came she would continue to do so.
Whatever had brought her to Novus and to Denocte—call it fate, destiny, divine intervention—Jezanna knew it was her chance to make a difference and to learn from the mistakes she had made in the past. She knew now that her parents had been wrong, and she had been wrong, and it was time for her to make her own choices and lay her own path.
Sovereign Questions
Why would your character be a good candidate to lead that Court?
Although Jezanna is no longer immortal, she is still a deity at heart. She understands what it’s like to be looked up to, and trusted, to have responsibility on her shoulders. But she also took it for granted and never imagined that she would ever be without that power and immortality. She was young, and she didn't understand how to use her power either. When she first came to Novus she was innocent, and certainly naive and idealistic, but even in the time since arriving she has built relationships, and grown exponentially beyond my vision for her. When she first came to Novus she rejected that it could ever be a home to her, but for each passing day, every crisis and joy, she’s been changing along with the world. Only by coming to Novus and becoming mortal, does she understand how she should have used her power as a goddess. Now, she wants to use that knowledge to lead Night Court out of a dark time.
Despite being ripped from her own world and brought to Novus, she’s come to accept and even truly feel this is where she belongs and as thought she was brought here for a purpose. During the event of the Raven Gates closing, Jezanna spoke with wisdom, maturity and reason, and although the threads fell through, she immediately went searching for understanding. I think she has shown the honorability, grace and perhaps most importantly, strength and adaptability, to take on a position of leadership, with the allowance and ability to continue grow within the role. She has stood up for the citizens of Denocte, and would do what was within her to protect them and see them happy. Jezanna was an imperfect goddess, and she is an imperfect mortal, but she wants to do better, and make better the world she now lives in by learning from her past mistakes, the past mistakes of others, and listening to the people.
What would be their goals as Sovereign? What would they do with their new power?
Jezanna wants to rally the people of Denocte, she wants to foster peace and trust. She’s aware that there is a whole world out there that she knows very little about, including the other Courts and inhabitants of Novus, but she feels especially that the Night Court needs her. The first thing she would want to do is speak to her own Court, reassure them, build morale and community among them. A stable house cannot be built without a strong foundation, and they and the Court are her number one priority. Then she would want to travel to the other Courts to learn about them and their people, to hear their stories and thoughts, to promote harmony and build relationships. Jezanna would, first and forever, want to ensure the safety of her people and the continued growth and prosperity of Night Court, even as she would want to give them a new chance to show the world that they are not who events may have painted them to be. She wouldn't want to try to erase the past, because it can't be erased from the minds of people who were affected by it, but she would try to repair the bridges that have been burned and hope that with time and care, wounds would be healed.
You've got us convinced. Is there anything else you'd like to add?
Ever since first joining Novus with Jezanna, I’ve been searching for something, some plot, some event, some change, that would spur development for her. My initial plan was to move her up from Commoner to Sage, perhaps even eventually to a Champion position, and I even early on expressed an interest to have her be Emissary as I believed the position suited her. For awhile, nothing happened and she stagnated and I kept reaching out for plots that never seemed to come along. This, it feels right, and I knew I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to try for it
Regardless of the outcome, I'm excited to see all the auditions that may come and to watch events unfold about the future of the Night Court.
07-11-2018, 09:08 PM
Played by
e-cho [PM] Posts: 243 — Threads: 27 Signos: 0
I paid the price and own the scars why did we climb to fall so far ?
A battle cry echoes across the lands, an angry whisper stirring tempests in its wake, a mournful scream shattering the peace of the world freshly disturbed with the reawakening of the gods. Gods to whom Moira does not pray. Gods that she knows little to nothing about. Gods that now control every aspect of her life.
Briefly she wonders, pulling questions from the sky like snowflakes in the winter, grasping at threads in hopes to find the tapestry has finished itself, curious to know what should happen now that the Regime of the Night Court has fallen. It is only the seductive whisper painting murals when her eyes are closed, the trickle of a voice tickling grass beneath her feet, that draws her nearer. In her ears, her heart thunders more loudly than the dying embers. Ash floats through the air, and the mountain pass feels more like a burial ground than the gateway into a world of splendor and wonder. Through the pain and loss and suffering the people have endured, she knows that Denocte - a resplendent gift in all its glory - must continue. From mountaintops on high she's returned, trekked through a valley of death and ash, a land of destruction and sorrow, into the arms of ember and flames. It licks hot against her feet, touches idly upon her sides as a lover would in the night, and through every inch of the fallen forest she burns. Moira Tonnerre felt the call from Caligo like the thrumming of her heart, the reverberations settle in her bones as though to call her home at last.
How long, she muses, has it been since a place felt like a home? The Estate has always been the one location that held her heart, for it held Estelle, the Twins, Eluoan. Now? Now Estelle is surely missing, Eluoan would have found a new pupil, and the Twin... Only the spirits knew where the Twins have gone in the year she's been away. Faces flash as vibrant as the days she met them, Eik, Caine, Bexley, Seraphina, Asterion. Her heart cringes, falters, as the twilight creature appears as though an apparition. He took to her like the sea to the shore, yet there is a distance, a canyon separating them, that even she cannot cross. But it is not for these people that she now travels back through the great gates whos maw is open like a dragon's, whose gates are flung open for any to prance in and enter and destroy all that she is learning to love, it is not for those faces that she approaches the Court.
Through the pass she goes with no fear, only determination that will match any wildfire, any tsunami, any hurricane in force and strength, painted upon her carmine face. It is not a smile she wears as amber eyes look into the waters - waters where she met Raum. Waters that are so still they could hold death in their hands and even he would not know that it is there he would slumber and meet his end, waters that show lies and dreams all with just a flick of your eyes, waters that bring peace and healing and the possibility of a future. Sorrow should be plain upon her face for all that will no longer be - the Gypsies disappearing in the smoke, the Regime taking to their dragons and riding the great beasts into an unknown future, all those hearts who no longer laugh from Reichenbach who she never truly got to know. And yet, when she sees her reflection it is only that of a woman who will break and bend and burn and rise again for the sake of a people that were not given a choice.
For she knows what it is to be chained. She's felt the flames as they licked her skin. Moira's been trapped and lied to, deceived and broken, and through it all she withstood.
If she were louder, if she were a lion, a battle cry would be heard. But she is neither loud nor a lion, and there is a subtlety to the phoenix that is soothing like the waters lapping against your skin, like your mother's hand as she strokes your forehead and sings you to sleep. At last she arrives to see vacant streets and hollow eyes. Permeating the air is not the joy, the music, the laughter and incense she has come to know, learned to be fond of, but instead a sullenness has settled. What should happen now, surely they all are wondering. To those who she sees, she smiles as though the moon and stars all radiate from her, she gives them the sun when there are storms, silently she promises to do all she may to help bring the light back in tomorrow.
Four others are there - horsemen of the apocalypse riding in to offer what she knows she may never be able to give, but she wants to. Who is to say she will be caged once more - Caine spoke once, telling her how her family is here no longer, how strong she can be without them, she did not know then how much she would cherish his words now, let them pound through her veins with the drumming of her heart. She looks to the goddess gowned in black, emblazoned with starlight that puts Moira to shame. However, this is no beauty contest, and even if it were the Tonnerre girl would be under no impressions she would stand a chance of winning. As she looks to Bexley her courage falters for but a moment - the lion girl would be much more suited to a crown, but she does not know the Court and how to heal the brokenhearted. Has she felt the same pains, lost the same family?
"Caligo," she says, eyes tracing over the night the goddess dons. Every nuance, every corner, every black hole that draws her in. After a pause, after she catches her breath and brings her harried thoughts together, she dips her head low and smiles. It is glowing, gentle, and perhaps more loving than the one Eluoan taught her to wear. "My friends," Moira includes, looking to each who is there. They are all so brave for coming, and she cannot help but feel grateful for how others can be so giving. "I cannot say that I am a native here, nor that this is where I saw my life leading me when I was young. There was but one goal that has been a constant, a northern star: to heal. I have seen the mighty fall and felt death hold my hand, I know sorrow and loss and I see people in need.
These people, your people, and...perhaps they are my people, too - we ache as one, we feel as one. With the loss of our Regime our hearts are broken. In these times, we need no warrior, no prince charming, no politician. They need to know they are safe, they are cared for, and they will be loved." With that, she shifts, looking to the grounds as though it held her future, as though she could read how Caligo would smile or shun her in equal measure, how she would judge her with those blazing eyes, with a heated stare that would melt her into nothing but water to nourish the plants and disturb the pebbles. "I care for these people as I do my own family, perhaps more, for they are teaching me so many new things. How to love, how to be loved, how to know my own worth. Caligo," she breathes, flames blazing once more in her soul upon an alter, eternal and unending. "I am not raised with gods and goddesses, you do not walk among my family. I never learned to pray, but I learned to fix what was broken. If you let met, if you see fit, I would like to learn to pray with them...with you, and I would like to help mend their broken hearts so we may all bring the light of Denocte back into the eyes of every citizen. If you deem me fit to help, I will help them swell like the tide to meet the sky, and together we shall rise as one, united, once more under your banner with faith renewed and hope kindled in our hearts." Humbly she dips her head once more, silence settling like a lion upon a lamb, a cloak on her shoulders, wrapped tightly around her throat. Will she be spurned for her words, laughed at and mocked? Already she knows how to handle the comments, the rudeness - it has been a test of patience and endurance for the entirety of her life, one more on the pyre would not be a difficulty. All she knows now is that her patience must last longer, for a decision must be made sooner or later, and more may yet come.
code: e-cho; image: unsplash
in this house of broken hearts we made our love out of stacks of cards
About the RPer
Thanks for auditioning! Let's start with your name.
E-cho
Great! How old are you?
21
Have you ever held a Position of Power before?
I have, but it's been a while! There have been a few herds on other sites that I've run or helped run. I adore seeing people get involved and coming up with new things so that we can all grow together. I like plots and action and love pf cuddlepuddle guys? and things to bring people together which was a lot of fun to plan out and enact ! On the flip side, I can come off a bit strong and try too hard to make everyone smile. Sometimes I have to learn how to bend and where to draw my line which I think I'm getting better with being surrounded by such positive people who make me feel at home.
What aspect of Novus are you most excited about?
Passive vs Active magic is definitely something newer to me being as I've only been on sites with just magic and tiers of them. I think it's a really unique aspect here that really adds to the site and gives us goals to work towards ! On top of that, the marriage bond with the gods is just the cutest and coolest ? Being a person who is fond of happily ever afters and raised on Disney not even sorry, I really like that the gods can bless a marriage and make it even more dynamic and interesting between the characters. Plus, who doesn't love planning a nice ceremony to see those we love happily joined together?? or in-laws coming to battle
General Information
Introduce us to your character. Who are they?
Moira Elizabet Tonnerre
How many years of life have they experienced?
5 [Year 497, Spring]
We have to ask... what is their gender?
Female
Along those lines, who are they most attracted to?
Heterosexual
They're gorgeous! How would you best describe them?
Hailing from a sprawling family of Arabian descent, Moira is no different in build from the many who inhabit this tree. From her head to her toe she exhibits the breed's finer qualities. A beautifully dished head holds large, intelligent eyes rimmed by dark, kohl lashes and glisten and gleam coolly with any who see her. They are a welcome sight, their faint yellow glowing something of an intrigue, and hold no judgements until one's true colors shine through. Delicate nares quiver when in the presence of someone new, shaking as she breathes them in and pushes them out once more. Teardrop shaped ears tilt curiously upon her diadem, often buried in the masses of thick, wavy ebony hair that is braided and piled into various buns atop her neck. It is a neck that arches ever so elegantly, long and curving it draws the eye down to her sloping shoulders and barreled chest. Curvy lines of her body are easy to follow back. She's found to be a slender woman, petite among her family when her wings are excluded. It looks like even the slightest breeze might knock her over and uproot her from where she stands, but those who are wise know it takes much more than that.
Moira is the skies at dusk set on fire. Burt hues of orange and flaming reds culminate upon her like she was cast from the heavens themselves. A darker burnt sienna bathes her face and was daintily dipped upon her feet so that she is as contrasting as night and day. Upon her back and knee joints a paler orange sorbet was dribbled like starlight, as bright as the day is long. Twinkling from various points along her body, bright glowing patches like starlight flicker and play with one's attention. However, nothing compares to the swanlike coloration that is her only marring feature, much to her family's disdain. White is painted about her eyes like a mask, it arches over her left shoulder and slashes over her chest - a reminder of her purity and her father's transgressions. Carefully the pale eggshell white dances up onto her left wing, ending shortly after intruding. Her wings are as glorious as she - bright flaming red with orange and yellow flickers in the light. They look like a streak of fire when she soars through the sky. A shooting star, a true sight to see!
EXTRA: the glowing portions on her body are inactive until the magic can be obtained ! So for now they're just pretty yellow spots. ^_^
Personality
No one is perfect... what are their positive and negative traits?
[+] loyal, clever, studious, tenacious, soft, caring
[-] brooding, secretive, jealous, resolute, irritable when tired
They sound interesting. Would you mind expanding on their personality?
Moira Tonnerre is a captivating woman in looks alone, but that is not where she truly shines. Her intelligence is something to be rivaled, and many would say she should have taken the route and become a sage. In a way, she is, but her thirst is for that of the healing arts. As she grew from girlhood into an adult, her tutor instilled in her strong instincts of moral rights and wrongs. A creature of intrigue, she keeps to herself unless her trust is gained. Preferring the solitude of a sanctuary or infirmary, Moira is not one that is oft found in crowds. Silence is her savior, isolation her reprieve. She seeks quiet moments in her day to gather her wits once more, for being around others outside of her family so often exhausts the girl far more than she'd like to admit.
Such withdrawn tendencies also keep the sun child from unwanted attachments. Having been raised unwanted by the majority of her family only to have them change their opinion has taught her to be reclusive and careful of those she keeps in her company. Estelle is her only constant, and one she has proven to be quite selfish with and selfless for. It is quite possible that Moira would throw herself on a fire for those she loves, but heaven should have mercy on any who betray the fiery woman. While she's caring and a rather loyal woman to those who have earned her trust and respect, should they ever turn their backs she can be a vindictive creature possessing every terrible thought known to womankind.
When not in the company of others or tending to wounds, Moira finds herself curled close to the nearest source of heat be it another breathing entity or bonfire with a book in hand. She carries a notebook which she's always scribbling something or another in. Having come from a woman of the arts, Moira herself inherited something of the ability and enjoys drawing. None of those drawings have ever seen the light of day, nor does she intend for them to do so. As stubborn as she is, it would be a miracle just to get her to genuinely smile at a joke, even if she found it unerringly funny.
History
Here comes the best part! Tell us about their past... the good and the ugly.
YEAR 497
Deemed Moira Tonnerre upon the day of her birth, she was something unexpected in the family. Her mother, her sweet, naïve mother, was the victim of something that wasn't quite love, but a sort of infatuation. She'd loved the arts and excelled in them; an extremely talented woman who caught the eye of many a suitor not for her beauty, but for her talent. Something of a renowned creature in the places they lived, Gizelle was a prized possession. Coming from a decent family, it was her choice to whom she would be auctioned off to, for she was under no illusions this was anything but that -- which would provide the best for her family to move up in the world. And so, when M. Tonnerre came about, she found herself enchanted with him. He was Apollo himself; a burning Adonis that lit her world on fire. She was a swan beside him; so pure and lovely a winged creature. And even though she could soar among the clouds, Anselme Tonnerre grounded her as no other could.
In a turbulent sea where she had been drifting, he was the lighthouse that brought her home. So they were married quickly, and Gizelle was brought into the luxurious world of the sprawling Tonnerre's. They were a well-to-do family of the upper rings in society, and their numbers were many. The marriage was not what the Tonnerre's would have chosen, for none of their ancestors had wings, and now this blight was brought upon them. Still, he was a favored child, and from his union only happiness would be seen to all those outside of the walls that surrounded them. Lust turned to something of passion, and soon Gizelle was well on her way to giving birth to the starlet that would be Moira.
- spring
She came in screaming as any healthy child would and was just as brilliant as her father. Much to the Tonnerre's dismay, the inkling of wings sprouted from her petite shoulders, and a cheek was turned from the start. Despite those who shunned Moira, Gizelle and Anselme loved her fiercely. A gift from the fates, Gizelle would whisper over and over. It was from them - the moirai - that Moira was given her name. Traditionally, the Tonnerre's gave French names to their children. After all, when in Rome one does as the Romans do. It was another mark on the stick, a notch that would follow Moira until the day she was cast out.
Moira grew quickly and with grace. And by six months old, she'd become fast friends with her cousin, Estelle. Estelle Tonnerre was the embodiment of what the family wanted and adored in the physique. No finer pairing had come close to her, Moira would hear her aunts and uncles whispering. Even their matriarch, Moira's great grandmother, smiled on Estelle. So for the two of them to become friends was ghastly. Yet this opened their eyes to the gem that Moira was. It is said that the rarest flowers blossom in the face of adversity, and how she bloomed for all to see! Physically, Moira was pristine with the hazy early morning skies imprinted upon her skin during the summer fires lighting it brightly. A single patch of ivory flowed upon her chest and over her left wing. Such blemishes were ignored for the personality that shone within.
Where Estelle embodied the physicality of a Tonnerre, Moira was a Tonnerre through and through. She had not been spoiled, yet still she carried herself with such pride and dignity. Every movement was soon watched, and her generosity and spirit shone through. It was her attentiveness that won out in the end, for Moira was a brilliant pupil. In their classes, she excelled above many of her cousins and was something to be mentioned in passing. Always a secretive half smile lit her young face, and soon enough she was the prized jewel of the Tonnerre family just as Gizelle had been to her own parents.
YEAR 498
- spring
Having survived the first winter which had taken many a child when she was younger, Moira went through the ceremony with Estelle to become a true part of the family. From blood to blood it was taken and given. Anselme and Gizelle could only stand on the sides and watched as Moira's shoulder was cut, bleeding profusely, and Myriam (a distant relative) stepped forth to bear a matching cut upon her unmarked shoulder. Their blood mingled together in the dirt, and once more when the wounds were cruelly pushed together so that there was an ebbing and flow as they mixed within. This was not what Moira remembers. It is the process after that struck her curiosity and holds it still.
A healer entered then, and each child that withstood the trials, that bore the blood and true mark now, was healed as any of their ilk should be. He was a kindly man, if not holding himself back. The easy movements with which he swayed between the children and donors caught Moira's attention, and then those bright amber eyes followed his energy flow as light glistened from the cuts. He came upon her like a dark ghost, a plume of smoke and shadows, only to meet her inquisitive gaze with a chilling silver one. Almost equally as intelligent as his own, she stepped forward as the others hadn't, boldly removing her hair from the afflicted area and offering freely for him to see. No ghosting of an expression crossed his face, but there was respect in those flashing eyes as he dipped his crown down and blew upon her skin. Once more bright light poured from the man tending her, focused on the cut to seal and hold in that which she would treasure forever. The angel-sent child watched as sinews and fibers first began to knit themselves together once more, and then stared harder as the skin healed over and only a faint pockmark was left as a testament to her trial.
From that moment forward Moira knew she wanted to follow in the path of a healer. Estelle, on the other hand, came forward and accepted her mark as well, but was much more disgusted. While she did not faint from the blood, she was appalled and chose the path of a courtier instead. A life in the lap of luxury, the two were opposite in every way, yet seemed to fall together over and over.
They made a pact that day upon entering the family - where one went the other would follow.
- fall
"Moira! Moira, you're so pretty, say you'll be mine?" The little boy smiled like a fool right in front of her. He was a distant cousin within the Tonnerre family; some great aunt or uncle's child that had been in the class ahead of her. He wasn't the most brilliant, but his silvery color reminded her of the healer so she'd been his friend, but commitment wasn't something that Moira was used to. She'd raised her brows then and looked over to Estelle. Her friend smirked and stepped forward. "Hey, shut up kid. Moira doesn't like you okay? So you can go now." "Oh, it's you Estelle. You don't speak for Moira, so don't. I asked her, not you. Stupid girl." He'd turned back to Moira then, stepped closer and whispered gently "One day, Moira Tonnerre, you'll be my wife ! You better believe it."
"No." Vacant eyes swam over the boy. "Leo isn't it? I'm sorry, but I'm not interested." She'd kissed his cheek then, tasting the single tear that had escaped, but watched as determination settled over the harsh planes coming in as the boy grew into a young man. What good would he really be in her quest to ascend in their family? Nothing, really. Her mother mourned her refusal, and her father sent a formal apology to Leo's father. But Moira knew he would make an appearance in her future, and it was a delicious challenge she looked forward to when the time came.
More propositions came, and one by one they were all turned down. Estelle was Moira's only constant, and Moira was Estelle's northern star. Throughout the rest of the year they kept to themselves. Holed away in gossamer gowns and silk, the girls were as thick as thieves. It was a concern that the two didn't care to expand their circle outside of one another, but the girls were never bothered. They whispered conspiracies and had their own internal competitions. Estelle excelled in the physical aspects - the beauty of the pair, and Moira was the brighter of the two. She became a phoenix in their family. Reborn from the ashes of her mother's infatuation and cradled in the hands of love, Moira was what they wanted and presented for others to see. Many even pretended her wings weren't there - overlooking the blight for the better half of the girl.
She accepted the love that was only partially given as any gracious daughter of the Tonnerre's would.
YEAR 499
- early spring
Estelle was born first, turning two and thinking she ruled the world. From the sidelines Moira watched as her cousin pressed herself against men's sides, curling into their touch like a cherry blossom opening for the first time. She was still but a girl, yet she was learning the art of seduction. Her mother often scolded her, but Stelle didn't care. Always the supportive creature, Moira helped when the girl would come home puking, settling her stomach with focused precision and tucking her cousin in before anyone could find her. She'd developed a penchant for drinking when it wasn't healthy, and Moira was left to tend to the girl with few virtues left despite how the family was slowly beginning to turn their backs on her.
It wasn't Estelle's fault her parents just didn't seem to give her enough attention. Being the youngest of three other children was rough. It was something that Moira would never know, for the family's matriarch had long since decided that they were not to have another child. One winged abomination was enough, no matter how lovely Moira had become she was not to have any siblings. Their approval was something she sought without consciously doing so. What would it be like to have another of her own flesh and blood to call her own ilk? Of course, the Tonnerres were full of children at any given point. They were a sprawling entity that cherished family above all else. Any given year had three to ten children. But not every one of them chose to take on the Tonnerre name, or they were simply cast out and shunned.
She was lucky that had not been a decision forced upon her.
- summer
The time had come for apprenticeships to begin which mean that Estelle and Moira would be separated not only from one another, but also from their parents. Once deemed the black-sheep of the family, she was now their precious dove who showed much promise in the art of healing. Her natural curiosity and sharpness of mind gave her an edge over the others, and the silver man who had healed those at the ceremony the year before chose her to bring into his home and take under his wing. Eluoan Tonnerre was rather stoic and kept to himself.
Upon her arrival, he opened his home to Moira and introduced her to his family. His wife, a younger girl with pretty brown eyes, had passed the previous year. It was a tragedy that none spoke of, and even though she kept quiet, Moira mourned his sorrow when Eluoan would not. Still, he introduced her to the twins who were a year older than her. Two boys who were as striking as their father if not moreso with distant, calculating eyes and a penchant for keeping to themselves. It was them against the world, and Moira was reminded of her cousin who she was not to see for a year. Florence and Gael, no matter how distant, took a liking to Moira.
They gained her trust crumb by crumb, and soon opened up to her as well. They were to be the next doctors within the family, but they were allowed to remain with one another. It had always been that way. There were two types of people in the world: them, and then everyone else. Even their father struggled to tell them apart from time to time, and so they'd become bitter with almost everyone in the Tonnerre family. Any social gala was taken lightly and they did not interact. When they were to be presented to the family, they had gone yet shown no interest in the ladies presented to them for their pleasure. It was a mockery of what a Tonnerre boy should be.
Despite their oddities, Moira found herself rather fond of the twins as well. She learned their quirks as no one else cared to, and when they played a game to see if she could tell which was which, she mastered it. "You're not as clever as you think," she'd murmur behind half-lidded eyes with a faint smile. And as much as she was pleased, they were much moreso than Moira ever would be. Suddenly, their shell was fragmenting because the world outside was leaking in. She'd done what no other had. Moira had found some way to break through.
Florence and Gael stuck to her like glue, teaching her their tricks and everything they knew about the family. It was a lot to absorb, and proved more exhausting after her lessons with Eluoan through the morning. But she was an eager student and listened ardently, hanging on to every world the twins let slip. They liked her. It could be pushed so much to say that they even grew to love her, but neither would confess. Moira was much too focused. She was what they had been when her age if not more. A studious slip of a girl, she proved a rather lovely companion throughout the long nights.
It was in this manner that Moira passed the year. Lessons with Eluoan in the morning, visiting patients who were sick, checking on their matriarch to ensure optimal health, and then further studies with the twins after dinner. By now, it had become a routine that she was rather fond of.
YEAR 500
- winter.
It had been too long since Moira had seen Estelle. A year and a half had passed and her heart yearned for her. Snow was falling heavily outside and the young woman, now three and a sight to behold, Moira sat curled up in a great chair with her favorite book open on the arm. To her left, a glass of tea was steaming before the fireplace that was a dull roar. Its coloration matched the burning hue of her skin that was awash with reds and golds. Glimmering yellow eyes stirred as the tapestries wavered and the door was thrust open in the great hall.
Upstairs, Florence and Gael slammed out of their rooms to come racing down the staircase, barreling around the curves to gasp at the bottom. Eyes bulged out of their head at the silver woman who was bloody and in tatters before them.
"Estelle!"
A gasp was ripped from Moira's throat, her book forgotten on the armrest, eyes traveling over her dearest friend. Estelle was ruined. Hair frayed, split, in tangles, and cuts lining her body. Blood dripped from her flanks. Bite marks pocked her neck. Tears streamed down her face silently as her own silver eyes landed on Moira. Moira who had been unwanted from the start. Moira who had worked harder than anyone Estelle knew to surpass all expectations. Moira, her sole companion that had supported her and then abandoned her when they were to go off to train. Moira... Who was pristine in her scarf and mittens, running towards her. At last Estelle began to sob, shaking until she could barely stand, and threw herself on her cousin.
"I'm sorry," the silver woman panted, clawing at Moira's back as though that would make everything disappear. "I... I tried to resist. And then they were upset. Moira... Moira I can't stay. If they find out - no one can know! Don't tell them please, please Mo." As she shivered in Moira's embrace, Moira stroked her neck and looked to the twins.
They were frozen in place. "Get El please," was all she had to whisper, and the moisture in her own eyes was enough to thaw the twins who raced upstairs now, knowing their whole world was about to change.
Eluoan Tonnerre came at Moira's request. As emotionless as the day she'd met him, he took Estelle and knew she'd been soiled. A pitying glance was thrown towards Moira who couldn't meet his eyes. She knew... She knew that he would inform their matriarch and Estelle would be thrown from the family. Her badge of pride she'd received when but a year old would be cast from her skin and she would be unwelcome in these halls once more. Everyone knew this day was coming, but none wanted it for Moira.
Moira... The girl who would follow Estelle to the grave.
"Come on," her said at last, gently guiding Estelle towards their kitchen. There, he tended her wounds as Moira made porridge and cider. Carefully she held her cousin, wrapping her in blankets once Eluoan was finished, and holding her close to her heart.
"You're so foolish, Elle. So, so, foolish."
"I tried to write you," Estelle murmured at last, pain lacing every world, "but they would not send the letters. You are our angel-born. I am their demon-sent. Where I raze the crops, you sew seeds of goodness. Why me, Moira? Why did you choose me?!"
It was almost a scream that hit Moira, even as Estelle lashed out once more and slapped her across the face. Florence cringed, seeing red, and almost lunging at Estelle had he not seen the broken expression on Moira's face. "Because," she whispered, pulling her cousin closer, almost clinging to her as though Estelle were her lifeline, "you and I are two faces of the same coin. You are my heart, Elle." No sound escaped when the tears did, she did not allow herself to shudder and shake as her cousin did. Instead, her face went blank for a moment, withdrawing into herself. "When you go, Elle, you know I will come with. Where you go, I will go to."
The men heard her admission, but they knew it was pointless to stop her.
YEAR 501
- spring
Estelle was held under trial as any in the Tonnerre family was allowed. Found guilty of imbibing on another's flesh, one taken by another woman no less, her scar was burned from her shoulder. Her screams still haunt Moira in her dreams. When the judgement came and it was decided Estelle was Tonnerre no longer and would be leaving the compound, Moira stepped forward.
"I will go with my cousin," she said to a silent court. Dismay crossed them all. They did not wish to lose Moira - their Moira. "Estelle was mine first, and I was hers first before I was ever deemed Tonnerre. Without her, I am of no use. Please, allow me this, for with or without the Tonnerre permission I will leave you when my cousin goes."
"There will be those who follow you, Moira. There will be those to report back and others to protect you. Travel with care, sweet child of ours."
Their parting words meant little, she did not expect Florence or Gael to accompany them to the borders after they'd packed their belongings. Still, they did. Estelle was largely ignored outside of the angry glances the men threw her way. Moira had become theirs as well, more than the rest of the family's, and they weren't ready to let go yet. "We'll follow soon, Moira. Keep your eye on the horizon and look for us." Florence kissed her cheek, and Gael kissed her nose. They held her close for what could have been the last time, and held each other longer after Moira untangled herself and followed her cousin into the unknown.
- winter
They'd traveled much of the Summer and Fall. Estelle had fallen sick and so Moira went ahead to find herbs. Leaving with a heartfelt goodbye, her treasured notebook that held the part of her heart that Estelle did not possess was left in her cousin's care and off she set into the world. Snow met her at every corner, but she was determined to help her cousin. It is through a wood she stumbled upon Novus and into its rich new life!
YEAR 502
- Spring
Through the outskirts of courts she'd roamed until a mountain pass met her at the doors of the Night Court. It blocked her - or so it had for but a moment until the need to find a certain herb that would help Estelle pushed her forward. The other courts did not hold the plant she sought, but perhaps this new place would. It was within the borders of Denocte she found a people who did not just live, but thrived without ever having to leave their home. Their hearts captivated her, their art held her hostage, and so when she was found alongside the Vitreous Lake gathering her own store of medicine, she was invited in as a caretaker among their ranks. Graciously the Phoenix woman accepted, having been alone for so long and starved of small interactions.
- Summer
The summer brought with it many more adventures than her quiet spring, the time where she settled into her newfound home. It is during this time she met new faces, including Reichenbach, for the first time. They offered a new way of life, something exciting, something that stirred her heart and gave her wings to soar with. Caine was the first face who awoke her in the Library of the Night Court. He was a rather curious man who infuriated her beyond all measure, yet she found herself yearning to be nearer even when he was gone. Soon after, Asterion came into her life as sweetly and softly as the music at the Music and Art Festival they attended together later that season. Before the festival, however, a man of white and spots - Eik - came into her life and brought art and painting back into her heart where it was silenced for so long. Upon returning to Dusk once more with Eik, they went to the festival where Moira found a fond friend in a golden lion woman - Bexley, and another who was as lovely as her family in appearance, and hauntingly wise: Seraphina. Too long gone from the court, she returned to find a new friend once more, a sweet Pegasus mare named Aethelind that scared the daylights out of her with her wings. It is here she passed her days until the time when the Regime was called away just before the Fall leaves began to show their glimmering faces, and only then did she venture once more from Court to gather more herbs for the shelves in the infirmary, where she could be found when not lurking alongside the lake or reading up on new plants and old in the library's darkened corners.
Sovereign Questions
Why would your character be a good candidate to lead that Court?
Passionate, protective, defensive, disbelieving, watchful
Where do we begin? Moira, darling Moira, was born the daughter of a passionate woman, an artist, a gypsy who sold her soul for a man and entered into a lustful, but not always loving, home and relationship. She taught Moira to sing and dance and smile, she showed her how to laugh and paint and love life. It is from her mother where she learned that all things have the potential of being beautiful no matter the exterior, that life is what you make of it, and through the toughest of times you can endure if you simply try. While her mother is a much changed woman, and Moira still has aspects of herself she has yet to come to terms with, she has brought a little bit of light into so many lives already. She loves with her whole heart once exposed, she feels with everything she has, she wears her heart on her sleeve despite her best efforts. Moira protects her family fiercely, and the memory of them even moreso. She was raised a lady into a society of judgmental people, but more than that she was raised as a healer. As such, it was not only her pleasure and pastime, but also her job to know and understand people, to be aware of what might be wrong before they ever realize what is happening. Moira is starting to learn who she wants to be and is finding facets of herself she never knew existed, and it is all thanks to finding a home, not just a house, within the NC. As such, she is extremely grateful and feels a connection to the people and a need to do what is right. She cherishes them more than she realizes and will do everything in her power to be sure that their happiness comes to fruition. I truly believe that Moira would move heaven and earth and even challenge the gods to see her court flourish and her family smile.
What would be their goals as Sovereign? What would they do with their new power?
Fostering peace among not only the people, but other courts is always ideal. First, however, I think she would start from within - heal that which is there to help it grow and blossom and then invite others into the fold, to share in their wealth and nurture bonds of friendship between people. She wishes to help the Night Court heal, but also to bring back their music, their history, the richness of life that they offered to a wayfaring stranger like her. By no means is she, nor I, power hungry. I don't even know if Moira would grasp for it if it was dangled in front of her like a freshly baked pie and she loves her sweets, it's a problem. However, she wants to work to increase the emotional wealth of the people so that they may live a life that is full and welcoming and warm. Like the fire that guides you in the night, she will give them warmth and something worth living for, a home worth coming home to, and a family worth waking up to.
Moira is a firm believer in a person showing their true character and does not judge based upon first meetings. Like an onion, she'll peel away your layers until you make her cry when she reaches the center. Her court will be one of tolerance and acceptance above all else. She does not shame others for their choices in life unless they are truly evil. She does not force beliefs on others, for she would not force them upon herself. But she will protect her people from within and without by whatever means necessary.
I think Moira would want to set up many events. In her own family, there were ceremonies where children would be presented when they came of age, and I think she would very much like to start that up here. A grand event to celebrate the life of the children and welcoming them into their new adulthood. It would be like a ball, a coming-of-age thing like what was once done in all the Victorian novels. The kids will all celebrate it at the same time, one event to showcase them all and possibilities of their futures that they choose within or without of the court. Other courts would be invited with their youths as well under agreement of peace.
Another event she would love to see would be a cooking competition every now and then. Let's see who can come up with the best soup or the sticky bun that's the sweetest. Fostering a little competitiveness never really hurt anyone, and she would put in place small celebrations and events to push this within the community. From hosting baking competitions, to races, to having each Chairman elect someone from their field each season to be showcased and honored for their dedication and devotion to Denocte and Caligo, there would be many opportunities to join in on within the court !
Personally, I have a few designs to release as adopts as many of the courts and bring more people and art-lovers around!
You've got us convinced. Is there anything else you'd like to add?
Oh goodness, I'd just like to thank you all so much for this wonderful opportunity and wish everyone the best ! I've read through the auditions and my goodness I'm so grateful to be in a place with such lovely writers and wonderful human beings! Good luck to everyone, and thank you staff, for this amazing opportunity!
Cheers <3
xoxo e-cho
07-18-2018, 03:23 AM - This post was last modified: 07-28-2018, 04:20 PM by Moira
She's slow to descend from the mountains, loathe to leave the dead and the trees that have just started to turn red and yellow and brighter than any sunrise. Everything up high is precious. She imagines the rocks that scatter beneath her hooves sound like a song when they clatter against each other and go down as she goes. The air radiates with the song and as she hums she feels like a bee, thin-winged and fragile among a towering land of flowers that bloom in more colors than she can name.
With no fire at her back she's lazy in her descent. She sings her wordless songs to the small dragons that appear from the shadows like owls. They are all twisting heads and impossible speed as they frolic upon their wings through the low branches and swoop low to devour the mice and rodents that hide in the thicket. The mountains are alive as she descends and she lingers where the low sun blazes and relishes in the way it feels harsher than the moon-glow oft does.
It feels like a revelation to feel the sun, the light, the heat and feel fearless and free, free, free.
And when the clouds begin to cover the sun the air starts to feel thick and heavy. It feels like a weight at her back, a predator that nips at her heels and yells at her to hurry. There is something alive in that air, purpose that's thick enough to breathe in and feel like drowning.
So Isra runs. She runs like a deer, leaping over rocks and trees with a careless sort of abandon. She runs like a sea over the sands, a star falling across the night-sky, a mare that has only known what it is to run. On she runs until time matters not at all and only the throb of her heart and the pull of air into her lungs count out minutes and hours.
She runs until the rocks and sloping earth turn to cobblestone and the trees to stone walls and roofs that sometimes block out the sun.
There's a mare ahead, black as the darkest seas with drops of glittering diamonds and pearls falling off her like rain from the sky. Caligo speaks and the sky seems to tremble. The walls around her feel like they shiver in their foundations and the dust at her hooves rises like sleepy dragons that glitter not like decay but star-shine. Isra watches the goddess and it feels like the moment has slipped out from the words inside her soul, pages given form and letters made of bone, blood and heart.
The others are braver than she. They are all nameless horses but one and she's slow to recall what words made the world tremble and diamonds fall like weather. Isra was too lost in the beauty of this thing to listen. This meeting and all the ways the mortal's eyes glow like steel and moonshine and purpose consumed all her thoughts.
But then the words gather into something that makes sense, language that means something more than the way she thinks in poetry and shifting magic that looks like horses. Isra feels, watching the others offer up their dedication, like she is the next page (musty with wear and blank as the darkest of darkness). She could be a void for all the need she suddenly feels to fill herself up with something more than sadness and solitude.
Isra feels as if she could devour all their words, swallow up the fallen diamonds and pearls and rise like the sea when the moon barely brushes it as it sinks below the horizon.
“Oh.” She says and it sounds like a the start of a story, crowned and etched out in holly leaves and thorny roses. It rings in the bell-chime of her hooves when she moves from the shadows. She's careful to avoid all the glittering diamonds when she joins the others. She avoids looking at the steel in their eyes that she cannot dream of reflecting back.
With a blink she turns the pages of herself, remembering the heroines that spoke and breathed only with the power of her words. She thinks of the dragons that rose and fell in the magic of her breaths and the seas that sunk pirates like her smiles drown out her own sadness. She remembers and the next words come out like a spell woven with words and moonlight. “I know what it's like to be broken and cast-aside. My soul remembers how to suffer and shatter into star-dust and shards of glass. I know how to be made of fire and of ice. I know how any of us can be made to feel. I have lived it all.”
Flip.
Isra turns another page and it feels like her bindings are perhaps not steel but leather, supple but strong enough to swing by. “But I also know how to dream that there is more than sadness and sorrow. There are a thousand stories of hope living in my soul and a hundred happy endings for each of them.” She blinks. It feels like a reflection of black and when she presses her eyes closed hard enough to sting the blackness flashes white, white, white. “I'm only just learning that I can be more than story-teller. I'm learning that I be more than the one who can do nothing more than spread the word of others far greater, far braver than myself.” Idly she lifts a hoof to toy with all the diamonds scattered around them. For a moment she needs to forget that the others watch her with steel gazes and fire that raze and consume to her small, smoldering flames.
“But perhaps,” Isra bleats and the words flicker like a star behind fast moving thunderheads.“Perhaps, this Court and I might learn together, heal together, hope together.” Oh she wants to turn her words to steel, to swords that pierce the weighty air with whistling purpose. But she is still herself and all the gods in the worlds could not hope to make a weapon out of her. So her words fall only like willow leaves, paper-thin and fragile on the breeze that carries them away. “We could dream together.”
Finally she lifts her eyes and pretends she is some great heroine that laughs as a dragon's fire devours an entire forest around her. Caligo's gaze feels like a dragon's, glorious but dangerous and Isra hopes she won't be consumed by the glory of the gods.
“Perhaps.” It's the last thing she says and it echoes like an offering on a glass altar. She meets that diamond god stare just one final time and remembers that despite it all she still lives.
* * * * * an exploding star, you consumed yourself
About the RPer
Thanks for auditioning! Let's start with your name.
Nestle
Great! How old are you?
30
Have you ever held a Position of Power before?
I have. Through the years I have played Gods, Queens, Herd-leaders and owned several games.
What aspect of Novus are you most excited about?
I love all the lore, both for the site and that which has been created for all the courts. I love the idea of creating a world within a world and discovering new cultures through IC writing. It really lets everyone's imagination shine through their words.
General Information
Introduce us to your character. Who are they?
Isra
How many years of life have they experienced?
4 [Year 497 Winter]
We have to ask... what is their gender?
She [she/her/hers]
Along those lines, who are they most attracted to?
Heterosexual
They're gorgeous! How would you best describe them?
Isra is still learning this new body, the ways it is different and the ways it is familiar from the one the ocean-god took from her. She is not much taller, and the way she walks still feels the same: long legs that seem hesitant to even strike the ground. But now she is a rich dark bay, almost disappearing on a moonless night, and where once her hair was shorn it now cascades down her neck, black as a raven's wing.
Strangest of all is the horn, tapering to a fine point that she still sometimes catches out the corner of her vision. She is not sure she could ever use it, but she is grateful for it all the same. It's nothing more than another splash of black against all the darkness of her. When the moon is high enough it glitters like pyrite and flashes wickedly where it tapers to a sharp, deadly point.
The only beautiful part of her are the places where the ocean-god left his marks. On her belly there's a dusting of scales. In the right light they are ocean blue with flecks of glittering green that flash like iridescent fly wings. The scales fade out at her legs, swallowed up by the shadows that happily fill in all the sharp edges of her body.
Her eyes too were marked by him. Where they once were a soft, golden brown now they're all blinding, heartbreak blue. They blaze against the plainness of her face, flecked with gold when she gives one her rare smiles. It's the ocean you see in her gaze, a dark haunting sea that prophecies the way she will die in the end.
There is only one reminder left of the life she lived before, the one she tried so hard to end. On her left leg a brittle, rusted chain twists about the hollow birdlike bones of her. It's coasted in brine and in some places dried seaweed clings to the joints of the chains. When she moves the chain rattles and sings, a tolling bell-chime of misery and sadness. The sound it makes haunts her every step she takes.
Personality
No one is perfect... what are their positive and negative traits?
Positive: Well-spoken, intelligent, clever, hopeful, survivalist, dreamer
Negative: depressed, jaded, distant, quiet, tragic
They sound interesting. Would you mind expanding on their personality?
Isra is more tragic than anything else. She oozes out her sadness, her history and the way that the sky can't quite shine in the way it did before. There is always a cloud around her, a thickness of space and silence that follows her everywhere. Ever a slave (in her soul, where it counts) she sticks to the darkness, to the places where she is forgettable. More often than not when an eye lingers on her for too long or someone's lips tilt into a smile when they see her she runs, fading back into the quiet places where only dust thrives.
She has no idea how to live, not yet and so she lives in silent solitude. Rare are her smiles. Her voice is rusted with brine and misuse. Only the darkness hears her stories now, only the ever-night.
Cleverness is the only way she survives now, taking when she needs and buying when she can. It's a lonely life, this cold and bitter existence of her. But it's the only life she has and so she has forced herself to live it. There are still moments, when the silence is thick as oil and dangerous as quicksand,that she wants to forget it all-- forget she's lived at all.
On she goes day after day in her cycle of eating and sleeping in the dust and decay. She must be a ghost now, she often thinks, a ghost of things that could have been.
Some nights the stories are too great, festering as they do in her broken heart, and she has to whisper to dark nights. The dust scatters with her whispering tales of a world greater than her own (in the moonlight it looks like snowflakes of diamond dust) until the words run like rivers. Isra whispers, unending, until the words dry up and the end of the story leaves a bit of peace in the tundra of her soul
It's been months since she's shared a more than one story at a time with anyone more than the moon and she often avoids the sea when she can. The solitude has taken away some of the hope she had when she came to the Night Court in her new body of beginnings. For while her skin has forgotten all the brutality it's suffered her heart has not and her eyes still see the end over and over again.
Sadness, she often thinks, is the only thing she'll ever be. But there are moments when she survives, when she looks at monsters who smile an leer, that she thinks there is nothing than can end her. Her own sorrow and the sea could not end her nor could a dragon. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. She thinks the word perhaps and it sounds like hope in the words that run through her blood.
Perhaps she's learning that sadness and fear not the only emotion left for her to feel.
History
Here comes the best part! Tell us about their past... the good and the ugly.
There's no happiness in the story of Isra. There's no greatness, no hint of prophecy written on her flesh. She has ever been nothing, only a whisper of skin and silk in the lonely darkness. The only thing beautiful about her are the stories that live in her head and sob past her brittle lips during the dawn (before the sun rises when there is no darker blackness).
Isra was born from a slave, a whore who's only jewels were chains and droplets of blood. She was tucked away in the far corners of the brothel, hidden from the violence in dark places where she could hear everything but see nothing. Baptized in the screams and bitter laments of slaves, Isra only knew respite from the hellish brutality of her life in her bright imagination.
Until she was three she would spend her hours whispering tales of heroes and villains and places where light always swallowed up the blackness. The slaves would sit around her in their quiet times and be lost in the grace of her worlds, forgetting if only for a brief time, that they would be better off dead. On she went like that, until the day she turned three.
Then her entire, tiny world fell apart.
Her communion into the brothel was cruel, brutal in a way that few other slaves had ever experienced. That night she was broken, a child made into a adult and shattered all at once. Her body was left battered and wrecked. She was more blood and bone than pure flesh in the morning. While the physical wounds of that night healed and faded her soul never recovered. Isra learned to hate her body, her life, her future and everything in between.
The only peace she had was on the night she would sneak out to the sea and whisper her stories to the sand and surf. During the day the tales would fester in her heart, boil in the blackness behind her closed eyelids as she suffered over and over and over again.
One night, barely a year into her new reality, she decided it was all to much and waded deep, deep into the sea. She thought they heavy weight of her chains and the cold, cold stone of her soul would drag her down, down, down where the world would be silent and blessedly dark. It was the first brave thing Isra had ever done, to welcome the brine into lungs and lips that had only know stories and screaming (so much screaming).
She never knew the primordial god of the sea was there, listening to her whisper beautiful fables night after night. Long ago had she given up on the gods and religions, to her they were cold and cruel and no better than those that bought her flesh over and over again.
But the sea god loved her, the broken woman-child that cooed to the waves until she feel asleep under the moonlight on the cold, hard sands. So when she welcomed death he denied her. He took her down to the darkest places of the sea-floor. There he coated her in his adoration. Her skin made of gold and blood and scars was ripped away. He made her brown (dark enough to be black in the right light) and gave her a horn to protect herself if her broken soul ever decided that it wanted to live, live, live.
Only a chain, rusted from the saltwater remained to remind Isra that she was born a slave. Sometimes, she thinks he only left it to remind her that it's to the sea she'll go in the end. The cerulean scales that lightly dust her belly never let her forget that parts of her soul are still not her own.
Once she was changed, coated in her new plain flesh, the sea washed her out to some strange shore. There boats waited, filled with gold and wares to be traded. Upon one of those boats she stowed away, curled in a dark corner with a wealth that belonged to someone else. There she once again had only her stories to keep her company as the seas took her far, far away.
That is how she found herself on the docks of the Night Court, plain and easy to overlook under the stars.
Since arriving Isra has learned that she actually wants to live, to be something more than sorrow and a soul that belongs to a slave. She was in the mountains when the dragon came to the pass and she still has a small burn scar above her tail from the incident. From there she ran to the Dawn Court, watching the others drink and dance. She wondered at the darkness in her heart, the sorrow that held her to the shadows and kept all her stories but one silent behind the cage of her teeth. That sadness drove her back to the night, back to all the dead and suffering that she left behind in her own fear.
Once she arrived she met a devil that rose with rage on the edges of a story she told him. He was red like blood but there was a certain glimmer in his eye that awoke something in-between the shattered fragments of her soul. She left him to his letters, wanting to forget his name and the fury that flickered like a tempest in the air around him. But he found her again, on the mountain-side in the night and together they buried bones and talked of rage that she imagined felt hollow in the end. Together it felt like they healed, forgave and remembered that there is more than sadness and justice and hate in the world.
And so when she heard the summons she followed the clarion call of the moon and felt something rise, like the sea that drowned in her, between her ribs and lungs. It felt like her heart and it for once it didn't feel cold and brittle enough to shatter over and over again.
Sovereign Questions
Why would your character be a good candidate to lead that Court?
Isra is hopeful enough to rise above her own sadness and sorrow, to offer hope and a story if she sees others faltering as she has. She is clever enough to see what monsters hide behind the smiles of horses (she's bled enough to learn this better than most). Beneath it all she is more jaded and wise than the youth she wears might suggest. The world is what it is and while she doesn't seek to change it she has promised herself that she will survive and that the night she has made her home will survive as well.
Perhaps she's not as brave as a warrior or as sly as a politician, but she makes up for it all with empathy. There is no suffering she cannot understand. She will promise herself to lead with understanding and welcome in an era not only of surviving but of thriving. She's been lost, just as night lately has, for too long and her loneliness feels like a sin now. She knows how some of the current citizens feel and she's been tormented enough through her past to understand the rest. Isra hopes to heal them all along with herself and bury all the old pain, hate and sadness that might be left behind in the wake of the old regime leaving.
What would be their goals as Sovereign? What would they do with their new power?
Isra would want to expand the market and use the merchants to spread the word that the Night Court is a place of healing, a place where the broken can come to escape their fears. She would hold celebrations not for the drinking but for the sharing of knowledge and to protect her borders from war though love and respect. She would have little tolerance for citizens that harm others, slavers and horses who take their pleasure from the unwilling. With the power to end suffering (she's never known power before) she would met out the justice that was denied to her when she suffered and bled as a slave.
She would love to start a safe-haven for the children of all of Novus. Where she can tell them stories, teach them how to survive hate and protect their innocence as long as she is able. All would be welcome to the haven despite any war or strife that might be going on between the courts. The children should not suffer for the sins of the parents. Isra believes they should be given every chance to rise above what every horror fate has given them.
Isra would also start a group made to protect nature, to prevent destruction both by the gods and horses who wield powers they are not ready for. Perhaps there is even a band of horses that have hidden, close to nature for ages that are waiting only to be discovered and welcomed into the new society of the Night Court.
You've got us convinced. Is there anything else you'd like to add?
Everyone's audition is amazing and it's so great to see all the personal growth happening for everyone. <3
