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Novus closed 10/31/2022, after The Gentle Exodus

Private  - Dearest Runaveig,

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Played by Offline Sonneillon [PM] Posts: 12 — Threads: 4
Signos: 335
Inactive Character
#1

  
there are bullet holes where my compassion used to be
The Night Market,


at one point in my life it had been a thing of my nightmares but these days I think that enough time has passed that no one will recognize my face.  If they do, then they certainly have forgotten the reasons why they remember the long, black, narrow nose that pokes around from venue to venue.  My ambling pace, coupled with a favored right forelimb, suggests that I have not seen a bed for days.  


Its true, I can't remember the last time I saw the backs of my eyelids.


I have been running and running and running, running, running, for a very long time.


I arrived in Denocte last night after a long-winded journey from the bottom of the sea.   Yes, the sea.  Magic granted me the ability to walk through water as if I belonged there.  Gravity granted me the ability to sift through the sands like some kind of bottom feeder -- an accurate metaphor for my position in life as well as a literal situation.   It is strange to know what kind of magic is out there - to know how much it can change from border to border, from land to land.  That the Slip is very real, and that it happens to us all,


And,


at one point or another we always end up here in Novus regardless of wherever it was we were before.  Some of us though .. some of us pop out of the ground here like dandelions.  Some of us truly belong here.  Others, like me, we are only here to complete a mission.  We don't belong here and Novus knows it.  There is a tangible wave of tension that surrounds me.  A field of energy that, if one were empathetic enough to sense, would realize that I am major-stranger-danger.  No magic here though, Novus knows better.  It knows me. It knows why I am here again.


 I'm here because Stephen made me come me here. 

I'm back because I made a mistake.  I lied.  I lied and got someone killed for nothing.

I made a mistake bigger than the one that I made here in this exact spot.  Almost two years ago - I think - I was trying to steal something precious from someone I underestimated.  Two years ago I got this scar on my face that would make me remember - forever - that I was bad at taking things that did not belong to me.  Did that stop me from ever doing it again?


No.  


Until I find what I am looking for, I decide I will lay low here.  There is no way I can risk running into Florentine, not now, I'm not ready.  Her candy boy is gone anyways - the one that tried to properly accuse me of stealing, what was his name?  Nickelback?  Rickledick?  Reichenbach?  Ah, yes, that's the name.  I don't even know if she is still here in Novus or if her own magical knife has taken her light years away from me.  If it did, I wouldn't be surprised.  Quite honestly, if it has, then I am genuinely relieved.  She has a way of weaseling secrets out of you no matter how deep down you try to bury it.  It doesn't matter how dark the places inside of you are, she is a light of discovery .. and I hate that about her the most. 


The market has not changed much since I dashed through it in a highspeed chase.

I recognize the same piles of fruit that I rudely stomped through.

...the piles of rich and rare fabrics that I muddled through and muddied with my feet..

...the familiar fires that tried to burn me as I nimbly capered through them.


Somehow it awakens an old pain in my feet, I remember standing in the live coals as the knife girl rounded on me and stopped me dead in my tracks.  The singe of defeat burned so much deeper than on the surface of my skin.  Burning.  Burning.


Suddenly, I could hear singing off in the distance and I wondered for just a brief moment .. was I that unfortunate to be in the same place as Florentine right now?  Something rooted me to the ground right here.  Right in the middle of a busy crowd.


My ears went back, green eyes looking around, mind screaming 'no, no, don't be here,' I searched and searched and searched.  No buzzing bees, no fluttering flowers, no candy-colored carousel horses.


She wasn't here, thank god.  But some other girl was.  Some dusty, stripy, horned thing that was more beautiful and spectacular than the trinkets I had been planning to lift later at night.  I simply watched her as she drifted from stand to stand, I tried not to look so obvious in my speculation but how could I not?  I was supremely undecorated compared to the Night Court civilians, very dulled and flaking dry scales in the wind like a molting snake.  I was just a shadow.


She drifted like ashwood duff in a warm August air, I was staring at her.  


I was staring like a schoolboy might.


I was staring so long it was almost rude.


Somehow we were close enough, I don't know how long it took for me to finally make my way to her and to do it so casually that it didn't come across intentional.  I'd always be the first one to say something because I had nothing to lose.  So I said 'Hi' to her. The color of sunset was attractive on her and I hated myself for looking.  Immediately I turned my attention to the stand but I didn't even know what it was that I was looking at.  Civilization was a thing that always eluded me, I was and would always be some strange thing that would be separated from the rest of society.  


For a land that celebrates Night, Dusk is a breathtaking sight to behold here - as the sun scarlets the Arma mountains out on the horizon.  As smoke and violet wash the evening in a dreamlike haze.  I am too wound up to get weepy and poetic about it all.  Dusk is the perfect time to steal things - lots of things.  Things you need.  Things you don't need.  A time of smoke and mirrors.  A time of deflection.  A time for crime. A time to get distracted by a girl who has the voice of an angel.


"Were you singing?  Earlier?  I'm supposed to learn how myself but I don't think I'll have much luck.  I'm better at shattering glass with my high notes than I am at impressing a crowd - you though..."


I have ventured too far with too many words already -- I drift off and let my eyes wander over the wares of the table we have come together in front of.  "I'm Only.  I just got here."




ooc:  I am lifting old html off of an old post of mine so if this layout does -not- work or view correctly please let me know. I'm also chained to Microsoft edge because chrome won't let me login to Novus.  o.o  P.S. Sorry for how boring this opener is.  I promise it'll be better. 

O N L Y
and there is violence in my heart


 

@Runaveig









Played by Offline Sparrow [PM] Posts: 18 — Threads: 3
Signos: 20
Night Court Entertainer
Female [She/Her/Hers]  |  11 [Year 500 Spring]  |  14.3 hh  |  Hth: 10 — Atk: 10 — Exp: 20  |    Active Magic: N/A  |    Bonded: Umbra (Pygmy Dragon)
#2



Forget what we’re told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that’s bursting into life.

This was not the first time that she had waltzed through the stage of the Night Markets with lyrics on her lips and a song on her tongue, her elegant steps guiding her with the poise and fluidity of a dancer. She sang as though the world was not there to listen, as though none could hear the sweet, melodic vocals which she used to defer and douse her own inner anxieties and demons. It was a strange tactic; avoiding curious stares and the fear of catching attention by simply singing, doing the very thing of catching attention but becoming so focused on the words of her song and the pitch of her voice to let those insecurities melt away like the ice caps on the Arma.

That was what she was doing now; dancing, twisting about through the crowds, flitting from market stall to market stall and humming, singing twisting melodies and gentle love songs like caresses from her pale lips. Occasionally her words of love and adventure would halt to exchange a few words with a particularly kind vendor, to which she would curtsy cutely before continuing on her path. Runaveig had no goal tonight. There was nothing in which she was searching for, no shiny trinket or item. She simply wanted to get to know this land that, while born and raised, she knew so very little about.

Growing quiet as she once more stopped at another vendor, admiring the flowers and various beautiful, shiny trinkets he had on display, Runaveig had not expected to be approached so brazenly. A dark figure stepped and shifted up next to her, and unconsciously the dusk maiden altered herself and shuffled a little to the right so as to give him more room. Golden eyes lifted and glanced his way, just a furtive thing, to find his eyes rooted upon her. Just as soon as she caught his eye, his soft, pensive ’hi’ echoed in her ears. She blinked.

The man was not one she had seen before, but then again, most natives of Denocte fell into that peculiar category. He was as dark as the very night their court was named after, but it took a moment for Runa to realize that he was not covered in dark hairs as much as he was covered in black scales, almost like Umbra’s very own if not for the lack of an opalescent sheen. Waves of golden hair fell about his neck, other ticks of golden accents quick to be noticed by her inquisitive eyes. Curiosity bubbled like a rude little goblin beneath her breast, urging her to question him and his origins. He appeared a horse, but he had scales that moved and rippled like flesh. How very curious!

In response to his sheepish greeting, Runaveig smiled balefully, averting her golden eyes for the briefest of moments before lifting her head to catch his stare once more. She nearly flushed from the intensity of his scrutiny, but seemed to not mind it. “Hello.” Her response was soft and sweet, just as melodic and beautiful as the vocals that had previously left her lips. When it became obvious that he was more interested in her than the wares upon the table, Runa shifted a little more, not wishing to be in the way of anyone who were genuinely interested in the trinkets that the vendor was trying to sell.

The ebony-scaled man questioned her once more, but this time bringing up the song that she had previously been singing. The dusk-woman’s lips parted in a soft ‘oh’, brows lifting in surprise, but then she smiled, bright, beautiful, and stunning.

“You’re a singer as well?” She asked, intrigue and curiosity coloring her sweet words. “Nonsense, I bet you’re a lovely vocalist. It, um… It was a song about a long-lost love, a song I learned from the gypsies that I grew up with. I could teach it to you, if you’d like?” After all, there was never any harm in two entertainers meeting to practice together. That was the beauty of what they did.

’I’m Only. I just got here.’ Runaveig’s pretty face lit up just a little bit brighter and she nodded.

“Hello, Only. I’m Runaveig. You can call me ‘Runa’, though, if you would like to.” She paused, blinked, and then smiled bashfully, turning her muzzle away as though shy. “I don’t mind.”

From the very shadows around them, a lithe figure seemed to appear out of the very shadows themselves. The petite dragon shifted and twirled through the air, appearing with yellow-green eyes to peer out at the scaled equine dubbed ‘Only’ to land and settle upon Runaveig’s croup. The black, opalescent pygmy dragon crawled up Runaveig’s back to rest comfortably upon her shoulders, seeming to stare and judge the man engaging his bond-mate in conversation.

Runaveig giggled fondly, the feel of Umbra’s claws tickling her spine, then twisted her head around to press a loving kiss upon the dragon’s smoothe forehead. “I’m so sorry. And this is Umbra, my precious best friend.”

"Speaking."
credits


@Only :D









Played by Offline Sonneillon [PM] Posts: 12 — Threads: 4
Signos: 335
Inactive Character
#3

 
there are bullet holes where my compassion used to be
He should know better than to make assumptions about someone he did not know but Runaveig's tender, gentle smile and soft voice was disarming.  Only nearly forgot that his sole purpose for being back was to find Winona, Stephen's knife.  There were so many things about Runaveig that he liked that he forgot to be cautious and paranoid about meeting new people.  There were so many rules he had set up for himself that he was breaking this very moment.  Rules that could save a life, not his.


He thought of the medicine man that was killed last summer, in the breeze of a new August moon.  He made the mistake in committing the medicine man's face to memory.  Whatever Only remembered, Stephen would sometimes find in the lockbox of a brain they both shared.  Not everything was a shared memory but Only had to consciously remember that for everyone he encountered.  The Ilati Elder had been a tragic mistake of Only's and though he was not personally responsible for killing the man in cold blood -- he was the reason the murder even happened in the first place.  If he could blame anyone he would blame the knife -- for it was the loss of Winona which ignited the fuse to the bomb of events which lead to Turhan's death.


Runaveig was beautiful in a way that made Only blush and look down when she smiled.  She was precious to him in his own way.  If he wanted to talk to Runa and to get to know her, he would have to be careful about what information he chose to keep about her.  For his mind was a double agent sleeping, Only had to act as if Stephen were listening all the time.


"I would love to learn a gypsy song."  Only said with a genuine effort to reassure her that he wasn't a creep.  He had to reassure himself too, the darling peach had no idea, he aimed to keep it that way.  Meanwhile, underneath it all, Stephen played darts underneath the floorboards of his more upbeat Ego, striking nerves left and right within Only in an attempt to make him subconsciously loose focus. 


Tick-tock, tick-tock-  


"I assure you though, I might be better with an instrument.  I came to the market to find something that might better suit my talents, or lack there of so to speak.  Would you like to help me find something?"  


Only did not truly know his way around the Night Market, he knew how not to get trapped within it however.  He only had to make that grave mistake once to remember forever the escape routes straight out of dodge.  As Umbra appeared, Only's eyes drifted onto the movement and met eyes with the dragon.  Something within him shifted and self-reflection briefly distracted him from Runa's sweet introduction.  


"What?  I'm sorry,"  if not for his black scaled skin, he would have flushed again.  "Best friend, ah yes.  I had a best friend once. A dragon, that is.  He was so large though." 


And then he got very sick, and Only had to kill him in a terrible and very upsetting fight.  Henry never had a chance after Only froze him to death then shattered him into irreparable pieces.  A part of him relished in the glory of the win but it was only a small part.  The larger part of him suffered but time knew how to dull the pain by distancing memories.


"Are you from here?"  Only wanted to know.  Florentine, like Only, was definitely not from here.  Though Only was not from where Florentine was either - somewhere farther and more obscured.  "I'm from Ord, Nebraska.  A very small community."



O N L Y
and there is violence in my heart


 


@Runaveig   I knows a thing or two about corn and how to grow it.









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