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Current Novus date and time is
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 Year || 503
 Season || Winter
 Temp || -10℉ (-23℃) to 55℉ (12℃)
 Weather || Winter has left a blanket of pristine white snow in many parts of Novus. Only Solterra remains mostly untouched by the season's frosted hold, but even the desert may feel a cold breath of wind now and then. With Winter now settled across the continent, dreams of Spring dance in the minds of many.

Character of the Season

Member of the Season

Thread of the Season
Coloring outside the lines

Pair of the Season
Moira Asterion

Quote of the Season
"There is something to be said for how soothing habit could be, when one was trying to avoid words they shouldn’t say." — Theodosia in
Cinderblock gardens

see here for nominations

Interactive Quest - dark and deep and secret as a forest
Random Events — Official Novus Account Signos: 999,410
▶ Played by Staff [pm] Posts: 195 — Threads: 84
▶ Agender [They/Them/Theirs] Hth: ∞ — Atk: ∞ — Exp:
▶ Immortal [Year 501 Spring] Active Magic: All Powerful
▶ 8 hh Bonded: All Creatures

the dark night of the predators

It has always been said that the night is a dangerous thing to love. Tonight the darkness seems more dangerous than the blackness of the night before it. Everything feels electric, charged with the fury of a storm that's just now starting to roar like a wounded lion out over the distant sea. 

There is no moonlight to dapple the canopy of the forest outside the swamps, no moisture to dampen the thick bed of dead leaves and pine-needles. The sky is darker than it has ever been. All the stars have been swallowed up by the thick clouds full with the promise of rain. Behind those clouds a shower of meteors streaks across the sky, but tonight they are not for mortals to see. 

Were it not for that approaching storm, the forest and swamp would have been full of Ilati and Shed-stars dancing like pagans before their bonfires. Bone song and the whisper of tarot cards would have run though the night like bells, chanting-- come and see what your future hold. But the storm is coming and all the pagans and old-believers are hiding in their beds. 

They know that the heaviness of this night will bring only death, only suffering. 

Tonight is for predators.

Lilith of course knows this, and she alone moves through the thickest shadows below the trees. In the canopy above her squirrels snap at their young to be silent and owls turn their heads into their downy feathers so that the wolf might no even ear the whisper of air through their lungs. All the rabbits have long since buried themselves deep underground where they shiver and shake to hear the quiet padding of lupine paws above their heads. 

The entire forest bows before the danger of Lilith and her teeth ache with a hunger sharp enough to make her feel like a god. But it's not her belly that aches, it's something deeper (deeper than her heart, her bones and her blood). The wolf's soul aches as if a arrow has been shot clear through the center of her. It feels as if that arrow is attached to a string that tugs and yanks at her. 

Her soul whispers to her, just a little further and you will be full. On and on she walks, driven by that aching hunger.  She walks until a young and foolish stag crashes through the corpse of birch trees. And then she's running as swift as the wind through the trees (swifter than the storm over the sea). Lilith runs because she's hoping the ache is a lie and it's really only basic hunger that drives her on and on and on. 

But then.... 
Oh then!!

Euryale crashes through the trees ahead (on the same deer-trail as the wolf). Ribbons sail behind her like the loveliest shadows Lilith has ever seen. The ache in her lupine heart sharpens to a point and bursts inside her like a dying star. Suddenly Lilith isn't hungry anymore and she doesn't feel like a lonely god stalking the forest. 

She only feels full in a way that no deer or rabbit could ever make her feel.

“Euryale.” The name sounds like a prayer in her mind and she hopes that the mare will hear her. Lilith prays that the predator mare will also have something bursting inside her like a star. 

Perhaps it's the memory of hunger that makes her quicken and burst through the trees in a leap that makes it seem as if she might have wings arching from her fur. Lilith doesn't question what drives her to latch her teeth around the stag's though and send it crashing to ground.

It's there she waits (standing like a guard over the dying stag) for Euryale to join her and take the first taste of their kill.  

@Euryale finds herself strangely hungry just as a summer storm starts to build over the sea. Strange really that she might be driven to the forests outside the swamp on a night where no moon or stars dare to shine. Everything might feel electric, as if the forest holds between a storm more dangerous than the looming thunder storm. 

Just as a finds a young stag to chase her hunting will be interrupted by the appearance of Lilith. a timber wolf. But the wolf waits by her kill, waiting for Euryale to join her. Perhaps it wasn't hunger driving her into the forest tonight after-all? 

Thread requirements: 1 reply, 500 words. Please tag the RE account in your reply.
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Once you respond, you may begin including Lilith in your IC posts.

Thank you for giving me such a darkly lush setting and idea to work with <3

Enjoy! -nestle

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Euryale — Dusk Court Soldier Signos: 65
▶ Played by aurora [PM] Posts: 30 — Threads: 5
▶ Female [She/Her/Hers] Hth: 10 — Atk: 10 — Exp: 10
▶ 4 [Year 499 Winter] Active Magic: Aerokinesis
▶ 16.1 hh Bonded: Lilith (Timber Wolf)
Warning: Blood & Gore

it is an evening, full of secrets. full of wild promise and thrill. thunder, splits the sky open. forest hymms, sing their rustling serenade through the nocturnal hour. it is so very dark, and ghastly, and the darkness settles as thick and heavy as an oil slick.  against, the inky blades of blackness, the moonless, starless night is nothing more than a black hole of moaning eternity - and this moaning  eternity, lathers deep into the earthy loams, with the wild promises and secrets of pagan godesses.

the blackness, collects upon euryale's spine like a hot, rabid thing. the blackness, feels thick, sticky and heavy. lathering. salivating. smothering, through the forests, and dripping an inky matter of oiled shadows through the trees. these shadows, cradle the forest-swamps, in a sea of grotesque, bone-chilling obsidian. the obsidian, seems alive. seems to snake. twist. crawl. touching, every rock and crevice, and smothering the entirety of the woodlands in a thick, smoldering veil of unbearable, torturous heat.

someone is here. the forest is her song. her ritual. she can feel the chanting of the trees. she can feel the harsh wingbeat of ravens. the rhythm of the woods, pounds, violently in her veins. in her heart. in her soul. someone is here for you. tonight, her heart is a wild lullaby, of festering violence and wicked thrill. tonight, she stalks the flower-beds made of rot, and bone-white disease, and laughs with devilish abandon for the freedom she feels. someone needs you.

she prowls and hunts and hunts and hunts, until her breath falls, hot, and ragged, against her breast. until her breath, curls out in thin rivulets of ophidian mist - the curl of wanton need; falling, in hot pangs of misty, gasping surrender against the smooth curves of her lithe flesh. tonight, the forest belongs to our crimson she-wolf, euryale. tonight, she hunts and purrs and wets the thick white of her canines, in their blood ritual.  she wants blood. blood. b-l-o-o-d. and her lips, both purrs and growls and aches to have it all come undone, between the violent shudder of her jaws. against the violence of her kiss.

tonight, it is heat and humidity, that ravages the midnight hour, as up ahead, thunder cackles like a wild beast; flashing bright light, in its exquisite violence. in the darkness, euryale's image is a feral blur of red and azure, against the trees. her silhouette of ravenous hunger, and eternal want, burning waves of wildfire through her ivory-kissed physique - through the wicked woods, she runs. runs. runs. hooves, more like massive paws, thundering after a frightened stag, when a large black wolf appears before her and brings the beast down with a rabid jerk, and the snapping white of fangs in the dark.

euryale feels her heart exploding with both hunger and violence and need and thrill. she feels more like an arrow in her chest, as an invisible string tugs at her soul, and pulls. pulling. pulling. pulling. a silent gasp, leaves the red curve of her lips. she feels her heart soaring, and dying; dying to give birth to a new star. resurrecting, in an ocean of wildfire before the beauty of lilith. the whole of the forest, seems to quiver before the two of them. the whole forest seems to shiver, then bow. bow. bow. bowing, down with limbs outstretched; rising, in a symbol of their offering. the whistle of the dry, caked leaves, and the churning of the black soil, all flows out before the dark universe in a sea of blood. blood. b-l-o-o-d. there will be blood.


euryale, whispers in the darkness. it is all she says before she jumps out, bounding ahead, and the two wolves find eachother in a moment of eternity. together, they brush against eachother in a feral embrace. mapping, the patterns of their fur with the raking of sharp teeth. together, they become one complete soul, and they purr and laugh and sing for one another's wickedness. lilith, runs her wild body against euryale's, till the two of them become one song of violence and love and thrill. together, they turn towards the deer, to share the midnight feast as euryale takes the first bite and drowns the stag's jugular in a sea of blood.

blood, drips down in wild rivulets of vermillion. blood, drips down in hot waves of warmth. blood, pours and pours and pours, soaking red into the moist, black earth, and is it them - euryale and lilith - growling. snarling. devouring.  making, an empty cage of the meaty beast. together they are one pack that descends upon the stag in a fury of claws and fangs, and as the blood of the stag bleeds its last visceral red, lilith stretches her limbs and throws back her head, to sing a deep, mournful howl. she sings the way a dark goddess, sings; full of hellish abandon and wicked mirth. she sings with soulfire in her veins and passion in her eyes. so that the whole forest may hear her songs of adoration and eternity. so that the whole universe may hear her songs of love and tenderness, for her euryale.

@Random Events


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