Poll: [NIGHT COURT MEMBERS ONLY -- 1 vote per member -- READ BELOW POST FIRST] Who would you like to be Denocte's new Sovereign? You do not have permission to vote in this poll.
And there she stood, a dying star pulling in those around her like a black hole.
Time was irrelevant, as slow as it was, while the demigoddess watched as those before her slowly - some almost gingerly - step up and regarding each with a pious stare. First, there was @Cicatrix - an immortal, a Star Walker - whose enigmatic appearance was as incomprehensible as Caligo's own, yet so much more vivid. They shown bright, a beacon - soft but warm. The demigoddess regarded them with a gentle gaze but for a moment: "Cicatrix, you may have no physical eyes but you see what Denocte is at its core: A home for all, and for wayward souls."
And then, little @Araxes - how long has she walked Novus' soils? Caligo remembers the day when she was not bay and white and dripping gold, but white and tenderly spotted black with soft, small wings. Cryptically: "Araxes, it has been a long time since you have walked these soils. Tempus wonders where you went."
Oh, the consuming void of her eyes, of her lips, of the wild tendrils of her mane softened just a little bit when she regarded @Willoughby. Although not a Denoctian and although Caligo was fiercely protective of her own... "Is a Vagabond not a lost soul in some way, Willoughby Lovelace?" a twinge of a smile at the corner of the demigoddess' lips. Such a statement was undeniably of a deity's mindset, thinking that those who do not believe are innately lost.
Then, an ombre and gold wolf boy they called @Renwick. The imposing swath of darkness that was Caligo shifted, her head dipped to regard and peer at the eloquent, braided man. "You are certainly are intuitive; you already know that Solterra and Terrastella mourn alongside us, don't you?" Sage words and gilded stare.
There was @Ira then, cutting through the crowd like his sharp gemstone horn may cut through an adversary... if he was any more of a man to give in wildly to anger. "Your father brought you to Denocte, a home away from his own. You, and I, owe much to him for that." She knew - knew Ira's father was gone, knew of the flames that had licked the night sky, knew that deep in his heart Ira held onto a chip of resentment. Caligo's voice, hushed and only able to be heard in Ira's own ear... as if whispered over his shoulder: "The pyre was beautiful."
And the visionary! Oh, how @Kassandra had ran, fueled by a siege and surge of adrenaline through the halls of Caligo's home. But now she approached with almost nervous steps, and the demigoddess fondly regards her. "Your visions are vivid and powerful. One day, you will need to tell me the words I spoke and pictures I painted."
The last - but certainly not least - to step forward was @Katniss. Caligo's heart ached between the voids of her ribs - for she remembers the night that Metaphor was ripped from Katniss and knowing Kibou, from his fellow Denoctians and everyone. It was a day that her heart rang with pain and fury and anger, forbidden from interfering by her Father himself. But all that did not define Katniss in the demigoddess' eyes - rather, Caligo remembered her strength, in the times immediately after leading to now. So she stood, quietly as the champion of battle spoke to her fellow Denoctians - and only when she was done, did she greet her: "Words are as strong as ever, Katniss."
There was heartache and passion in the growing crowd before her; the impact Morrighan and her daughter had on Denocte was undeniable. Each of those who stepped up to offer themselves to the Court, Caligo felt more and more... comfortable. Eyes made of eons of stars and glittering diamonds swept across them one last time, and it was then that she realized the choice was not hers to make after all.
Her head was raised, the wild swath an untamed, beautiful mess that framed sometimes-cruel, sometimes-caring eyes. She looked at them all and motioned for them to come to her:
"Cicatrix, Araxes, Willoughby, Renwick, Ira, Kassandra, Katniss - come forward."
And with the Sovereign-hopefuls before her, she turned her attention to the rest of her Court. "Denoctians!" Her voice, commanding and ever-present, called forth even those who were not yet here to the Court's center.
"Today you will choose who leads you, us, onto the next path. Choose wisely, my children."
Rules to Vote
Voting closes at 11:59P EST on 01/18/21
Before voting or if you are part of this nomination, please read all the below. If you have any questions/concerns, don't hesitate to ask!
Regarding this vote:
When voting, please read each characters audition - both IN CHARACTER and OUT OF CHARACTER portions!
Keep in mind when voting, we are looking for a character who embodies Denoctian ideals, will have substantial enough activity to help drive the court in a positive direction, and solid ideas to bring to the court in terms of events, planning, etc.
You must use your Night Court Court character account to cast your vote - ONLY Denoctians can vote here!
Do not use your OOC account to vote!
One vote total per member, even if you have multiple Night Court characters.
Those nominated may not vote for themselves. They are allowed to vote for a different character, if they wish.
Failure to follow the above rules will result in your vote being nullified.
You can freely post in this thread if you'd like to interact with Caligo or the nominees!
Character Requirements for those Nominated and/or who are chosen:
If you win the member vote and have another character in a Regime position (Sovereign, Regent, Emissary), that character must step down before your winning character can step up. This must be completed within 2 weeks.
If you have entered another one of your own characters into a different Court's Sovereign auditions, you may not win both. In the event both your characters are the number one pick, you will need to choose which character/court you prefer. The one that you pass up will be given to the runner-up.
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 a Sovereign is 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.
01-13-2021, 01:54 AM - This post was last modified: 02-28-2021, 10:41 PM by inkbone
Any character - from any Court - may post in this thread to interact with Caligo and the nominees.
Once voting is over you will be able to immediately claim this thread as completed for signos and/or EXP - even if you don't meeting the post count requirement!
01-13-2021, 02:32 AM - This post was last modified: 01-17-2021, 06:55 PM by inkbone
The stallion was not one to often find himself in the throngs of the Night court. He held his small hovel outside the court walls, occasionally dabbled in the markets, but never had he before been so encompassed by the people. Gareth had never considered himself to be particularly of the people of Denocte. His tribe had come from a small collective in the Arma Mountains, and that is where his heart and home shall always lay. But those mountains, were they not of the lands of Denocte? Were they not of these people? Providing comfort to those who wished to cradle this world carefully in their breast and safe from those outside who would not understand them nearly as well as their Goddess?
Gareth had not been a particularly devout man, raised on limited stories of Caligo. But those stories had meant everything to him in his times of need. Had comforted him in his darkest hours and had soothed his aching soul in the dreary days that came far too often. When he had heard of statues turned flesh, coldness melting into cosmos, he knew that he had to come. Even Noor… His gaze softens as he looks to his companion, the two of them on the edges of the crowd. Even his bonded, whose skin crawled to be inside the walls of civilization had understood the gravity, the need to be present for this once in a lifetime experience.
He should have expected to be in awe of her, to be taken by her mere presence, and to be sure there was that, but it was somehow more. A sense of serenity, of rightness had come over him, that comfort growing with each new face that stepped forward. Gareth had prided himself, though privately, in his ability to keep away from politics. The workings of those above him were not of his concern, and they were not his place to judge. He was, in a way, beyond all of those things. So long as he could tend to those who needed it, and provide services few others would offer, that was enough for him.
He soaked in each word spoken, each member who had the heart to step forward and offer themselves bare to the court they so lovingly called their home and he was moved by them. By their love for their people, by their choice to call Denocte their home. Each lyric struck different chords that resonated so deeply within him it felt as if every inch of his person vibrated, swaying his heart and his soul.
Noor watched his companion, contentment at seeing the man whom he shared such a bond with be moved by something. It had been a long time since the stallion had allowed himself to feel anything this strongly. The first time since Salome had left that he had seen the brute allow his heart to feel full. Such a rarity made it possible for the mushroom festooned elk to endure the crowds. After all, such precious things should be enjoyed.
Caligo spoke, calling for a vote of the people, and while Gareth has never been one to draw attention, he is compelled to move forward. His large frame drawn to full height, the crowds part for him and his companion. When before the Goddess and those who offered their services his eyes wander each of them, taking in their faces, their motives, and in a sense, their very beings. He believes each to have a true heart with good intentions for Denocte. The decision should be difficult, but after seeing them, he knows his choice. He turns to Caligo and bows deeply, mirrored by Noor.
“Caligo,”his lyrics boom among the whispers of the crowd, as each spoke to themselves and those beside. He brings himself to full stature; for the first time he is proud in posture, for he will make himself no less in front of his Goddess.“You ask us to choose wisely our leader.”He looks to each of the equines before him and a genuine and warm smile graces his lips.“Any of these creatures would be a fine fit, and I would be proud to call them Sovereign.” He turns his amber gaze to the Goddess, overcome by the rawness of her beauty, of her presence. “But if I may be so bold,” He steps forward and nods towards his choice.“Ira is a Sovereign I would follow to the ends of the earth. He is everything that I believe this court holds dear. Is it not Denocte that cherishes those who would find home nowhere else? Who better to lead us than a soul who has chosen to make their life here? Who has a desire to pledge themselves to the people of this court?”He turns then to the Sovereign elects, bowing to them.
“I would gladly follow any of you, for your ideals are true and I believe we are all capable of great things.” He lifts his head. “For is that not what we love about our Court? Our fellow Denoctians? Though my heart swells with pride for all of you, let it be known that Ira is the Sovereign for whom I cast my vote.”The dappled stallion bows again before retreating once more into the crowd, his elk companion following until they are but a faint glow at the edge of the gathering.
"Speech"| Noor | @tag | I couldn't resist, the inspiration just struck me. Good luck to everyone!!
01-13-2021, 03:14 AM - This post was last modified: 01-13-2021, 03:27 AM by Gareth
"Is a Vagabond not a lost soul in some way, Willoughby Lovelace?"
Oh, how the words resonated with her when addressed. Willoughby smiled softly, a look of forlorn in her eyes. “Yes, Goddess” she agreed quietly as the citizens of Denocte went ahead with choosing their next leader “that is why... I would like to lead these people. To give my life a purpose and to hopefully make a purpose in their own.” But she already knew it may not be that way.
She may walk away from here like any other place. She may not be the people's choice, an outsider like she was to them. New to Novus, new to Denocte. Only a passing bard playing in the streets, a fleeting creature to these folks. A man she did not know spoke up, allying himself with another called Ira. Willoughby felt her head slip just slightly but she focused on Caligo entirely. “I am humbled to even try, to walk among your people.” she speaks in her same gentle manner.
But that is all she says, and if she is addressed she would speak to the people. But for now? She steps slightly back, allowing the others that the goddess called on to make their statements.
“speech”
if you don't want to see me dancing with somebody new
She is the moon, the stars. Supernovas colliding and stars streaking against inky black.
She is the untamed night that races above, that Cicatrix has longed to touch and grace.
She is... everything that Cicatrix longs for, finds a purpose for. Their heart aches with loneliness at times but in her presence they want to bask in it. Suddenly, there is nothing they want more than to grow closer to her, to learn from her and race the heavens with her on outstretched wings. They have longed for so long that they have forgotten what it feels like to be utterly content and happy.
A breath is taken, thoughts jarred as she speaks to them, and their jaw moves a moment. Nothing slips out, but their head lifts a little more, wings ruffling, feathers shifting and glimmering with their gold accents.
Is this what feeling for someone is? The racing of a heart, the dart of a belly, the sensation as if they've eaten butterflies that they've always admired. The gentle pang of wanting, while knowing they can never have it? But why are they so happy then, basking in her presence. Why do they not mourn the fact they cannot have her?
Perhaps that is what it's like to feel for someone. To admire as if admiring a flower: from afar, without touching and destroying the petals. Allowing it to flourish and being content to see it bloom.
They are addressed and almost startle. Almost. Instead they seem to come back to reality carefully, straightening with pride and gentle grace betrayed by their stature. "Am I not one of them?" They ask, the smile in their voice. A wayward soul, an earthfaring star finally come to land at a place called home.
Cicatrix realizes that they will find their home in Denocte, even without being the lead. They will help build it, help usher those souls into their arms and welcome them to a place they could call home and feel safe.
tagging caligo kind of msfjlskdf
this soft dumb bean has a crush and i am dYING
01-13-2021, 03:42 PM - This post was last modified: 01-13-2021, 03:42 PM by Cicatrix
enough with the lies tell me one
more time my blood your line is this you inside
B
ecause the goddess descended was why she wanted to believe that she was here. In reality, she had followed after Gareth's scent and found herself in the midst of an unofficial sort of gathering. Salome stuck to the outskirts, unwilling to mingle and unwilling to let her old friend know she was here. Her eyes fell upon Caligo briefly before looking away. The divine may weep for mortals, but they did not weep for the undead.
A new leader was to be chosen. Salome did not really care the reasons why the last was gone. She had been outside of Novus until now, but her eyes would find one in the crowd once more. The one called Katniss. She sent a silent vote to the community for her, not wishing an outsider or a new face to lead them. One that she knew had been here longer than the others. One that had experience, but also was a flickering light in the dark. Salome would welcome them as their Sovereign.
(ooc: salome mentally casts a vote for katniss / also yay for completed thread signos and exp xD)
due to being a vampire, she can only thread during the night
The words fall on her like stone, burying her beneath their rubble until her shoulders sag and her world-weary red eyes fill with questions that must go unanswered. Gods walk among the mortals, and the secrets that they keep, they hold tight to their breasts. Caligo cannot tell them? Two ears turn back slightly and the cascade effect gives the purple mare a particularly skeptical air. She wonders how a sovereign can be killed and the demi-goddess would not see how it happened. Cannot? Or will not?
Perhaps she is faithless.
Perhaps she is too bitter to accept the word of strangers, even that of a goddess - or especially that of a goddess - but she casts around her to find anyone else with that same suspicion boiling up out of their hearts. There are none, at least none wearing it obviously, instead awe and devotion and all the things that Rivane has long since forgotten in her many travels fill the courtyard. She shifts her weight uncomfortably, tail licking smoothly through the air until there is left around her a wide berth free of those others milling forward to greet Caligo, to meet those that rise to the challenge of replacing a sovereign reported mysteriously dead. Rivane shakes her head furiously. No.
No to accepting that the Queen has been killed and nobody will ask how or why.
No to accepting that the threat to it is gone when it has not even been spoken.
No to claiming a right to that empty place left behind.
A familiar scowl is twisting her lips. The world around her moves on, almost as if Morrighan's death were a sidenote, and though Rivane did not know the mare that had ruled them, she finds it strange, disconcerting. The walls she builds keep Caligo's hooks from her heart, she does not feel that pull the others do. It feeds into her Otherness, a black pit of loneliness stretching before her like the empty plain of the sea, makes her turn away, her thoughts full of the feeling of running; of escape.
no, wait, a high-pitched voice rings out excitedly in her head. There are small claws pressing against her skin and Beech's small weight in the curve of her back. His whiskers are twitching madly, feeling the air that moves around them. i can feel Kassandra coming!
He's right, of course. That striped neck twists the direction the little rat is leaning, and there, with Oculos struggling to follow through the throngs, is Kassandra, forcing her way desperately between the crush of Denoctians. Rivane pauses, her jaw set stubbornly to one side, the desire to flee luring her with its siren song, but Kassandra is her friend. In fact, aside from Beech and Barley and Breadnut, Kassandra is her only friend, so she turns back, following fluidly through the path of irritation and confusion left in the silver-haired mare's wake, follows until she finds herself at Caligo's head, her shoulder pressing firmly against Kassandra's haunch, wordless.
—
« Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
to keep a drowsy Emperor awake; »
G
old eyes watch with thinly veiled interest, as others emerge from the shadows, inexplicably drawn by their lady of night. His attention shifts, with the same level of indolent intensity, to mask the wolf-like nature of his molten stare — to rest on Gareth. His smile is a genuine one, and he shifts on his haunches to rest a cloven hoof on it's northern most midas point. Then to Salome too. Faces he doesn't explicitly recognise, but they all have that look about them. Quiet determination, a sense of community. They come together in moments that matter both, in love and in loss. Renwick loves them for it, too, they flow like tides and liquid shadows.
It's why he fights, why he falls & why he rises again.
"The law of inevitability favours everyone and no one, my lady." He supplies with a touch of good humour, off-set by the note of melancholy which stubbornly weaves through his words. "Rarely has one court gone without tragedy without another close behind, or falling in tandem." He greets and converses with Caligo as if she's an old friend, of divine making, for he imagines sometimes that Gods & Goddesses too must get bored of continued veneration. A break in the cycle, he feels, if he was divine inclined — would be a breath of fresh air. "You look ravishing this evening." But he is, of course, a flirt at heart and he cannot resist. For she is a force of nature, beguiling and tenacious in her turns, wild as sea winds and his romantics heart and devotion mix one and the same.
His fellow competitve sovereigns receiving a nod of acknowledgement. Neck bowed deep, not quite as polished as his once-tutors would of liked, but that's Renwick to a fault. His approach to conventional is his own, rough around the edges but no less charming.
To Willoughby, he listens to Caligo's words and then her own. "Vagabonds and Denoctian's are not so removed as many would have you think." He winks. They're just stars that haven't quite fallen yet, he feels, into the open arms of their home. Wisps looking for the lantern in the gloam.
Ira wears the uneasiness of a boy donning the cloak of his father; he, unaccustomed to large gatherings, or groups of people, feels his eyes flit from one face to the next. Those he recognizes, he files away; and those he does not, he notes with intrigue, and an ounce of shame. He ought to know more of his Court by heart! He ought to feel as if he is among friends rather than strangers in name, bound by duty.
This thought, however, bring a note of familiar comfort. Ira understands duty, as some are inherent to it. He is one of those unfortunate few, who have never understood any other path. He listens as their goddess addresses them each in turn; Ira smiles (he cannot help it; her words, and the way they are more genuine than any mortal’s) evoke the truest sentiment from his heart and that is one of joy.
(He wonders, for a moment, if Caligo does not meet all their souls at some point; if she does not watch them tenderly, as a mother would, when they depart the heavens to be invoked into bodies).
“Thank you, goddess.” And more softly, so softly: “He deserved all the beauty I could manage.”
Ira believes it. Ira believes it, or tells himself he does. And besides, there is no more time for him to contemplate the truth of the statement; Caligo moves on to the other would-be Sovereigns, and then the crowd begins to glamour in response to the goddess’s closing statement.
He does not expect Gareth to be one of the first to respond, openly, and before all of Denocte. Ira does not expect the genuine outpouring of opinion, or the subtle nod toward his elect. As with some life events, it takes Ira a moment to appreciate the gravity of Gareth’s statement—he chooses him. Ira says only, nodding respectfully in response, “You humble me.”
Ira listens respectfully as other’s cast their votes, or speak with the goddess, and during this quiet respite Ira keeps note of Caligo; he watches her not so devoutly as he ought to, but with genuine intrigue. What could she teach him, he wonders. What wisdom could she bestow, if she so chose?
He does not allow his thoughts to get away from him too quickly, however, but returns after a moment to the gathering. “I, too, as a citizen of Denocte, would like to cast my vote.” Ira offers a small smile, to both Caligo and his chosen prospect. “Renwick. I believe he epitomizes Denocte’s ideals, and would be glad to follow him; but among us, there is no sour choice. Only those who strive to serve our kingdom, and we are lucky to have any of them.”
He does not say, myself included, because it has never been in his nature. He merely listens, stepping back to observe the remainder of the vote.
I was late to the event. I didn't even know it was happening until it had nearly started, and so I had been delayed in getting down the mountain, letting the girls guide the way, a decision I began to regret as the sun set, and cast the world in darkness. It seemed the dark crept down earlier than usual, and I wondered, if that was Caligos doing.
I arrived just in time to here the demi-goddess announce the candidates. I didn't recognize a single name, and became incredibly aware of how little I knew of the night court and it's people, despite being on of its people. It was perhaps time to leave the orders walls. It seemed the order was slow lately too. The other healers had things under control, and I hadn't seen Tenebrae in weeks. He was the main reason I had settled there, I had found in him a friend, and I served little extra purpose there for myself if that friendship was no longer present.
I had to admit, she was a sight. I had held her in little regard since coming here, I held nothing for any of the Novus gods for that matter. But seeing her stand here... she reminded me so much of the firstborns. Full of life, and love for her people, and it sparked something within me, to see that sort of love once more.
Who became the new sovereign meant little to me. I knew nothing of them, though it seemed one of them was a vagabond. I was only here to observe, to watch and learn, and perhaps... to kindle some sort of love for the demi-goddess before me. It was time to start leaving the past behind, and to embrace the new life I had found here.
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