From far and wide, the scholarly, the devout, and the nonbelievers flocked to see if the words were true-- though deep in the hearts of the most sincere Deluminians, they could feel it. Oriens, descended again amongst his people! The God of Dawn’s pale, gilded, royal shroud swept o’er the sky, awakening all beneath it, silver clouds of floating filigree gathered artfully at the horizon. Across the land, there was celebration. Children had sewn banners of owl feathers and hung them from the walls of their abodes, the limbs of trees; they threaded their hair with azure irises and sunflowers in golden bloom.
Atlas had come to this strange and distant land and when he’d arrived, sea-beaten and mentally battered, he’d taken refuge in Terrastella, under Vespera’s mystic, but protective, touch. And he’d fit in there, then, with the weight of his sins and his secrets bearing down on his shoulders like a yoke of penance; he’d sworn himself to social abstinence, to distance from those around him, and he had promised himself he would never, ever, make another friend for fear of what could be lost. And he had been blistered and raw, emotionally, and content to hide away from what he desired, what he craved.
But he was built for wandering, was Atlas, and it was not long before his feet had forced him forward. He had traversed the length and breadth of Novus in his search of the stars and their knowledge, and he had come to know and love many souls, and found the wisdom within them. Rhone and the confidence and wisdom of the sturdy shore, Mephisto and her dutiful travels, Kibou and the enlightenment of youth; and with each step, and each word, Atlas had shed his old skin, and his old wounds had become scars, and instead of hiding in the soft silk-touch of dusk he had plunged himself forward into the dawn.
And here amongst the scholars and the rustle of parchment as they gathered to discuss and dissertate, he realized he felt at home. Here, where the drive for knowledge, for learning, was a fire in the hearts of each Deluminian, only here, did he feel his own heart come to rest. And it was only when the fog had cleared and Oriens was there, himself a beacon, and the quills came to still and the only sound was the scrabbling on the mossy cobblestones as bodies brought themself prostrate beneath their King of the Dawn.
Something swelled in Atlas, something strange and foreign but comforting and proper, like a puzzle being solved, all ten-thousand misshapen edges finally coming into place. He felt the spirit of Nathely beside him and heard Nashira’s voice and silver-sharp laughter in his head; he had left his far-off homeland on a whim, seeking something new, something better, and had never imagined he would have the chance to actually be the perpetrator, the driving force behind improving the world. Atlas had never wanted the reigns, never wanted a position of leadership, but he looked up now at this god of new days and in his heart, a key turned perfectly in its lock, a song long-forgotten swelled to the forefront of his mind, and with his next breath, he shed the sand-stained stranger doomed to wander forever in atonement for a birth he hadn’t asked for.
Atlas, golden and resplendent under the pristine light of Dawn, stepped forward. His head was high and his voice did not shake:
“I would shoulder this task, my lord. I would lead your people.”
Atlas had come to this strange and distant land and when he’d arrived, sea-beaten and mentally battered, he’d taken refuge in Terrastella, under Vespera’s mystic, but protective, touch. And he’d fit in there, then, with the weight of his sins and his secrets bearing down on his shoulders like a yoke of penance; he’d sworn himself to social abstinence, to distance from those around him, and he had promised himself he would never, ever, make another friend for fear of what could be lost. And he had been blistered and raw, emotionally, and content to hide away from what he desired, what he craved.
But he was built for wandering, was Atlas, and it was not long before his feet had forced him forward. He had traversed the length and breadth of Novus in his search of the stars and their knowledge, and he had come to know and love many souls, and found the wisdom within them. Rhone and the confidence and wisdom of the sturdy shore, Mephisto and her dutiful travels, Kibou and the enlightenment of youth; and with each step, and each word, Atlas had shed his old skin, and his old wounds had become scars, and instead of hiding in the soft silk-touch of dusk he had plunged himself forward into the dawn.
And here amongst the scholars and the rustle of parchment as they gathered to discuss and dissertate, he realized he felt at home. Here, where the drive for knowledge, for learning, was a fire in the hearts of each Deluminian, only here, did he feel his own heart come to rest. And it was only when the fog had cleared and Oriens was there, himself a beacon, and the quills came to still and the only sound was the scrabbling on the mossy cobblestones as bodies brought themself prostrate beneath their King of the Dawn.
Something swelled in Atlas, something strange and foreign but comforting and proper, like a puzzle being solved, all ten-thousand misshapen edges finally coming into place. He felt the spirit of Nathely beside him and heard Nashira’s voice and silver-sharp laughter in his head; he had left his far-off homeland on a whim, seeking something new, something better, and had never imagined he would have the chance to actually be the perpetrator, the driving force behind improving the world. Atlas had never wanted the reigns, never wanted a position of leadership, but he looked up now at this god of new days and in his heart, a key turned perfectly in its lock, a song long-forgotten swelled to the forefront of his mind, and with his next breath, he shed the sand-stained stranger doomed to wander forever in atonement for a birth he hadn’t asked for.
Atlas, golden and resplendent under the pristine light of Dawn, stepped forward. His head was high and his voice did not shake:
“I would shoulder this task, my lord. I would lead your people.”
SPEECH !
About the RPer
Sunsides (Sunny)
24
Not officially! I was once part of like a 'limited edition' race on another site before, it was fun. Honestly I like playing characters of power because I like being involved and included! I like to matter. I like coming up with good ideas based on everybody's input and the idea of stepping into this sort of void where Oriens had to come down and restart everything himself seems... refreshing and clean to me.
Yes
I love the people on Novus, I love all the designs and characters, all the crazy subplots that people get into; but I also love the chance to have things happen organically, by just having characters go out and interacting with each other and see if something sparks, either a love or a hatred or what-have-you. Everyone is so open and willing to throw up open threads or plot with every other person, it's really nice.
Sovereign Questions
Atlas was originally a Dusk character because I imagined his story playing out more like his backstory, which is to say tragic and emo; but instead his personality has kind of changed to be less of the 'tragic wanderer' and to be more of the 'wandering scholar', which is literally listed in the Dawn Court blurb. He wants to learn and discover but also to share what he has learned and discovered, and facilitate the learning and advancement of others. He is kind and level headed and every time I post with him his ghosts pop up a little less and a little less. He gets along with everyone, but he's also not naive, and has been through the ringer enough to kind of have a sense of what is right and what is wrong.
My vision for Delumine is a happy, welcoming place, where ideas and discoveries are created and shared. I want to sponsor more 'wide' plots that affect multiple people and places and maybe discover new things on Novus? Atlas is, like, the least war-like character I have, so he would want to have open relations with the other courts and essentially want everyone to be BFFs. He would work to restore Delumine, not necessarily to glory as he despises wealth and superfluous prosperity, but at least to some remnant of comfortable functionality.
Love you guys and hope you like this lil gay man <3
