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

Private  - it's kinda hot though

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Toulouse
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#1

toulouse


All things considered, Toulouse was rather bored so far with this new world.

Apart from his initial deposit onto the bleach and the treacherous climb to safety, he had yet to be truly challenged. He’d always considered himself to be a diamond: lovely and sparkling, yes, but even more importantly he could handle the pressure and the intense heat required to form such gemstones. Both were merely tools to him, a means to becoming more beautiful. He could, he would endure it all willingly. Beauty was pain, was it not?

The thought brought a twisted smile to his pale lips, twirling a tendril of hair around his telekinetic grasp. Perhaps he should have been a god, what with his dashing looks and powers of persuasion. He had successfully tricked men and women alike into admiring him—and that was the purpose of any deities, was it not? To give the mortals a false sense of comfort while reaping the benefits of worship for their own selfish gain? It all sounded like a pretty good gig to Toulouse.

“But a god of what?” he mused aloud to himself, sinking to his knees within a small cluster of aspen trees. The grass was a cool and soft bed, the trees casting a refreshing shade over his golden back. It was a picture perfect haven of relaxation—the only thing missing was an altar boy to feed him grapes. “Beauty, perhaps? I’m sure I could rival Persephone, and all those other fabled goddesses… don’t you agree?”

The golden man had slipped into the habit of talking to himself recently, to make up for the loss of his proverbial shadow’s responses. Had he known better, he just might have admitted it was the loneliness finally getting to his head. As it was he simply ignored the practice altogether, choosing to pretend instead that it was normal. Or, better yet, to imagine that familiar figure beside him once more, every response in his head an actual conversation between the two of them. Even now he cast back and ear, allowing his eyes to drift sideways so that he might scrutinize his literal shadow, as if expected it to stand up and materialize into a breathing horse.

“I agree, the younger generation really does need a role-model… a god as beautiful as us.” A small crystal vial appeared from one of the folds of his scarves, its cap unscrewing in the air to spill a rosy-hued liquid down the line of his crest. The scent of roses filled the air as he began working the oil through his unruly tresses.

For a few moments he was quiet, focused on his beauty care. He hated to think what the sun and heat might be doing to his hair. The oil helped prevent harm, it was true, but he was running out quickly. And Novus was still a foreign land to Toulouse who had yet to see a market stand set up, let alone one selling perfumes and hair care. He wondered, did they even know what such things were here? Admittedly, the few other souls he’d encountered had flaunted less than stellar personal hygiene… 

He tossed his mane back over his shoulders, so that it hung long and curled over his withers, the vial of oil disappearing back from whence it had come. “I’ll be honest, it would seem that they could use someone like me here.”

He cocked his head thoughtfully then, suddenly intrigued by the way the light danced through the leaves overhead.

“…Only to help them, of course.”







the motherland don't love you,
the fatherland don’t love you.
so why love anything?

the faithless; they don't love you
the zealous hearts don’t love you.
and that's not gonna change.

ut deo.



@reichenbach <3
”here am I!”



art: © x coding: © x










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Reichenbach
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#2





REICHENBACH
it's dark, there's no need for lights
when the fire in his eyes burns so bright




It was pleasant to be outside the borders of Denocte, and easy enough to pretend that those he passed did not know who he was. He could ignore the looks and the whispers easily enough, though the shadows that coiled and danced around him drew closer to his body, hiding in the nook of his elbow or the shadow of his jaw. Still, when he reached the vastness unendingness of Eluetheria Plain, there was barely a soul in sight — and such loneliness made his heart beat strong and true, energised.

Reichenbach strode forward, finding pleasure in the smallest of things: the brush of grass against his strong legs, the sweet way the breeze tucked his ebony curls away from his handsome face... the space that went on and on and on. A glint caught his keen eye, and Reichenbach turned swiftly toward the spark of light, his argent gaze settling on a nearby figure. 

Perhaps he wasn't completely alone..

.. and the longer he looked, the more familiar the figure under the tree became.

A great grin cracked The Night King's black lips, his booming laugh easily reaching Toulouse across the Plain.

Toulouse

They had been friends, perhaps more than friends, briefly whilst he had been travelling the world — worlds, as it turned out. Certainly many ex-Helovians had found their way to Novus, whether through the Rift or some other means... but Reich had never expected the old sleuth to fall through. 

He made his way toward the pristine man, his coins jingling as the baritone of his voice carried on the breeze:

"Toulouse! Of all the men I never thought to see again."



@Toulouse ! 


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Toulouse
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#3

toulouse


Aside from the sound of his own voice and the wind whispering sweet nothings through the trees, the grove the palomino lay under was quiet. He was alone, only his shadow around to keep him company.

'A perfect summer day,' the wind seemed to say, the tree branches creaking in response. 'Better to just lay here forever, forget about your worries...'

What worries? Toulouse had everything he wanted here: shade, his rose oil, and his shadow. 'Better leave the shadow behind, strike off on your own for a change.'

Oh, so the wind had a mind of its own now. His golden ears quickly disappeared into his mass of curly hairs, displeasure pulling them downwards against his poll. What a useless thing to say, forget your shadow. He couldn't shake himself of it if he wanted to, why would the wind even suggest such a thing? It was like telling him to cut off his own leg, or shave his mane. Impractical and downright stupid.

He was about to come back with an equally snappy response, to show the wind that he was not someone to be messed with, when a baritone voice cut him off.

"Toulouse! Of all the men I never thought to see again."

He stopped mid-thought, mouth still open as his brain rushed to formulate a response, but the words trickled slowly away like water through his fingers. The gypsy man was exactly as he'd remembered it: dark, chiseled, and downright handsome. It was as if time itself couldn't have marred him, as if grey might never touch his hair or wrinkles disfigure his convex profile.

”Reichenbach, you sly devil,” his voice was smooth like honey, a purr against the velvety backdrop of the wind.

Mustering together all of his strength and grace, he forced his gaze away from the bay man’s starry eyes, casting it back up into the leaves overhead instead. One heartbeat passed, then two, his breath painful now through his tightened throat. Was this what it felt like to crush, he wondered?

No matter.

”I was beginning to wonder when I might see you next.” ’I didn’t expect it to be here.’ His hair, despite the oils he’d applied, was nothing less than a frizzy mess, and surely he would have grass stains now on his pale coat—hence why he remained stubbornly on the ground. He certainly was in no position to entertain guests, especially not this guest, who made his heart lurch in such a pleasantly uncomfortable way.

But then again, how could he possibly say no?









the motherland don't love you,
the fatherland don’t love you.
so why love anything?

the faithless; they don't love you
the zealous hearts don’t love you.
and that's not gonna change.

ut deo.



@reichenbach idk where this came from
”here am I!”



art: © x coding: © x










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Reichenbach
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#4





REICHENBACH
it's dark, there's no need for lights
when the fire in his eyes burns so bright




Toulouse remained as pristine as he always had, his coat silken and his hair elegantly coiled — at least, to Reichenbach's eyes it looked as such. He'd never given much thought to his own hair, and so it did what it pleased... namely bouncing every which way and that and habitually sliding into his eyes. As a result it was wild and unkept, and nowhere close to the slick golden curls of his companion. 

Toulouse did not look aged — but he'd always had a kind of age-fluid look, as if the years did not touch him. It was easy to imagine the fine-boned man immortal, captured in aristocratic art throughout the years.

”Reichenbach, you sly devil,”

His voice, too, remained as warm and honeyed as it always had been. 

”I was beginning to wonder when I might see you next.”

As if he'd always expected to cross paths again. Reich couldn't say the same. Though he'd seen Helovian citizens passing through (some familiar, most strangers) he had assumed Toulouse would have found a different path.. for what reason he could not say. Perhaps because the elegant sleuth would have fit in so very well within the aristocracy of Veteris. 

He smiled warmly, his keen eyes bright as he asked;

"You know I have to ask — what the hell happened? We've had many Helovian's through but none have managed to speak of.. the end." 



@Toulouse bleh sorry this is a bit crappy!


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Toulouse
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#5

TOULOUSE



Toulouse’s ears pricked forward in interest, his green eyes seeking out Reich. He hadn’t given much thought to the other Helovians—a select few had crossed his mind, sure, but the curly-haired man had never had much trouble picking up and moving on. But other Helovians had made their way here, to this Novus?

Now that was news.

How was it that everyone could find their way here, to a place he’d never even heard of before? Up until now, Toulouse believed Novus to be a new world, a metaphorically clean slate for the pale gelding. Full of new people and places and opportunities to reinvent himself… 

"You’ve seen other Helovians here?” The question slipped from his lips like water, smooth and unsuspecting. “Who?”

His mind was turning faster than the speed of light now, twirling a lock of golden hair through his telekinesis. It twisted faster and faster, around and around, tightening itself into a knot and then unwinding it—suddenly aware of the nervous tic, Toulouse stopped. His eyes lowered slowly to observe the strands, admiring the way a few caught the light and turned golden.

"Well,” he started slowly, a lazy drawl in the summer breeze. "It certainly was sudden. Absolutely chaotic.”

Lies usually came so easily, but there was a hesitation on his lips this time. He told himself it was because he had the lower hand here—he had no way of knowing what the other Helovians here knew, nor what they had told. 

But if he was truly being honest… Toulouse didn’t want to lie to this dark-haired gypsy. 






colossal we come
these renegades in the ring
where the lost get found 
in the crown of the circus king

just surrender~

@reichenbach you’re fine ;u;  
notes


enfanir art










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