Novus
an equine & cervidae rpg
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Novus closed 10/31/2022, after The Gentle Exodus

All Welcome  - the man without a name

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Grey
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#1

the air is cold, the night is long
I feel like I might fade into the dawn
Fade until I'm gone

Grey leaves the strange, glowing pool behind him, and yet still it seems to cling to him. The edges of his vision distort and blur, creating strange silhouettes and shapes that are not really there when he turns to look at them head on. The magic in this world has looked inside him and seen what he always knew was there: cowardice, failure. Disappointment. The strange magic, hot and bright as the sun had seen these things about him, seen who he truly was, and it laid its hands upon him and cursed him for it.

The unicorn walks, and walks, and eventually he leaves behind the tall swaying grasses of the plains and steps beneath the canopy of a forest, where the world is hushed and the night is ever dark. Every blurred shape, looming in the edges of his impaired vision is a danger. A danger that, when he turns to face it, has disappeared back among the trees. Every whisper of wind through the autumn leaves, every rustle in the underbrush, sets his mind on edge and yet he still never comes across any true danger. It is all within his mind conjured by the bane this world had placed on him.

Grey wonders if he will forever walk the world and fear the shadows at the borders of his vision.

He leaves behind the warmth the pool had promised him and wonders, perhaps, if he had partaken in its offer if he would have continued on better for it. It is too late to turn back, for he has committed to the frosted touch of his skin and knows that it is all he has truly earned in this life, if he even earned the love, the life which Amaranthus had so freely and so readily given him. The god has always believed in him, but the unicorn still feels unworthy of such conviction, even now as he follows Amaranthus’ words to find Novus, to find his purpose.

A breath escapes him, and it does not condense on the chilly autumn air like it should. He is walking death, walking dying. Perched evermore on the precipice of the afterworld, with frost crystals clinging to his blue-tinged skin. Then, Grey stops walking, as finds himself on the bank of a river cutting through the forest like a chasm. Grey stops, and he stands on the rocky outcroppings jutting out and around the rushing water. And he stares at his broken reflection and lets the shadows crawl out of the edges of his vision and he listens to the sounds of the night forest and wonders why. Why had he come?

"Speaking."
credits










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Ulysses
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#2

I peeled myself out of the shadows as I walked further into the labyrinth that was the forest of the Dawn dwellers. It had been months since my mother had deposited my spindly frame at the swamp I had been calling home since, months of growing and forming into the young adult that I was now. No longer were my limbs too long for my frame, my mane stuck up like some sort of weak mohawk, no longer was I just a feeble child wondering what I had done to deserve being deserted...even if I had been left by a creature who had never shown me any sort of affection you'd expect from a life bringing vessel. Inky ears flicked on my tarnished crown as I strode confidently into the unknown, the brisk autumn breeze tickling at the base of my hairs, lupine orange eyes darted about, not quite ready to be noticed by the dwellers of these parts. Not quite ready for the social contact that would come once I removed my own shadow-like form from the depth of the darkened world.

The sound of rushing water moves through the music of silence, redirecting the path that had no direction. Where there was rushing water there would be a place to rest for the night, or even a few days until I prepared myself for a not so grand entrance into the world once again. I chewed my lip, feeling the scarred skin give as blunted teeth sank and the metallic taste of my own blood coated my tongue once again, by now this was a norm, I yearned for the pain I knew I was supposed to feel when the life giving fluid rushed out from torn, jagged edges of flesh. The pain that had caused my own dam to be afraid of me as she ran off into the mist.

There wasn't much time to miss what I have never had before the sound of the river drowned out the thoughts in my head, the spray of water kissing my scarred limbs that if looked at in a certain angle still carried a slight bit of the awkwardness of youth. A smirk tugged at the scarred, bleeding corners of my lips as I drew closer to the rocky shore of the water, until the grey form caught my eye. If the moon hadn't hit him just right I probably would have been too caught up in my own mind to notice him. Inky ears flicked back into my tangled tresses, "Fuck..." I muttered as orange eyes drifted between the creature staring at his reflection and the shadows I could easily disappear back into..

"speech"

ULYSSES
if they laugh, fuck 'em all
@Gray | oof, I don't think I have written in like...seven months.. |lunarblues










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Grey
Guest
#3

the air is cold, the night is long
I feel like I might fade into the dawn
Fade until I'm gone

He doesn’t see the boy in the shadows, for his dark frame is just another invention of his mind, played out by the blurry vignette on the edges of his vision. He doesn’t see the boy in the shadows, for he looks only down at his reflection, choppy and misshapen on the surface of the river as it rushes along heedless of the life clinging to its banks. He is a ghost in the night, coat shimmering slightly under the touch of moonlight, white shock of hair hanging against his neck. Eyes, silver and pale as a star, staring on, and on, and on.

A noise, a voice, sounds quietly from nearby. Grey’s ears flick to catch the sound and he wonders what beast has come to claim him. But when he lifts his head, eyes peering past the makeshift shadows in his sight, he sees a boy. Oh, but how he blends into the darkness except for bright vermilion eyes, such that even still looking upon him something in the unicorn thinks he does not exist. He blinks, and frowns, and draws a little closer. His hooves scrape against the stone, resounding through the silent forest around them.

“Not a beast of the night, then,” his voice is gruff and chilled like the touch of his skin. The boy comes into view when a breeze shifts the canopy above, dappling his very corporeal figure in moonlight. Why was a child wandering around a forest at night by himself? Surely Grey is not concerned with his own well being. He had called to death once, and death had not come. Not entirely. Not before a light had stepped out of the sky and filled him with life. Returning him to a life he had not wanted.

But this boy? Surely in any world there are things that roam the night and threaten someone so young. “Where is it that you belong?” as though he has a hope of returning him. As though he would have any idea of where that place might be. Grey did not even know where it is that he belongs. Not any longer. Perhaps he had hoped it was on a mountain top, somewhere far from here, with a god made of quiet strength and undeserving amounts of love. Now he is not so sure.


"Speaking."
credits


@Ulysses









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