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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.

Member: E-cho

Character: Seraphina

Pair: Moira & Asterion

Thread: Coloring outside the lines

Quote: "There is something to be said for how soothing habit could be, when one was trying to avoid words they shouldn’t say." Theodosia, Cinderblock gardens
see here for nominations

Site Wide Plot - The Trembling of a Distant Land
Senna — Day Court Merchant Signos: 10
▶ Played by rallidae [PM] Posts: 2 — Threads: 1
▶ Male [He/Him/His] Hth: 6 — Atk: 14 — Exp: 14
▶ 7 [Year 496 Fall] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 16 hh Bonded: Nestor (Gyrfalcon)

what's done cannot be undone

Dear Father,

Have you seen the flames? If they were not so tied to catastrophe, I would’ve thought them just a little lovely.

In a morbid way. 

I think I am becoming too morbid, in the hallowed darkness of the Scarab. But can you blame me? 

I do not know what it looks like to you in Solterra, but I wanted to assure you that the eruption looks worse than it really is. You should not worry too much.

There is no need for you to come down. We are alright. I will keep things alright.

- Aghavni

Senna’s lips ghosted over the ink of his daughter’s scrawling calligraphy, each one of her carefully blithe words tightening the clench of his jaw. By the time he reached the end of the parchment, a new line had etched itself into the hollows of his brow. 

He shut his eyes and wondered when she had learned to conceal her distress as deftly as her mother.

She told you not to worry. Nestor’s wings brushed softly against the curtains as she sailed in through the open window. She told you not to go. But we both know, the falcon lowered her white head to preen back the feathers of her wings. 

you will not listen. He turned a weary eye towards her. 

“I know.”

He had not followed the rest of Solterra out to gape at the sky when a thundering — louder than the seraphim’s cannons, louder, he’d thought, than the sundering of the world — had sent the crows taking to the skies in great, black flocks. 

(His memories of the chimaeran war drifted in and out like actors on a stage. They visited at unwelcome hours.)

His bones still remembered the makings of chaos. His skin still remembered the heat of flames. He glanced out the window, at the sun not yet hitting the apex of noon.

He folded the letter into quarters.

“If we head for Denocte without delay, we will make it there by nightfall.”

@Random Events | "senna" nestor

where nothing shines

♦︎  ♦︎

Caine — Day Court Scholar Signos: 85
▶ Played by rallidae [PM] Posts: 49 — Threads: 4
▶ Male [He/Him/His] Hth: 8 — Atk: 12 — Exp: 13
▶ 5 [Year 498 Summer] Active Magic: Dream Illusion
▶ 17 hh Bonded: N/A

It looks like something out of a painting.

The black clouds. The scarlet sky. The ember horizon that pulses like a glowing heart, where scarlet meets with sea to collide in sparks of orange and white, orange and white.

Ash flecks Caine’s midnight coat like snow. He blinks it from his lashes, snorts it from his nostrils. He watches, impassive, as the crowds stream past, stricken eyes turned out to the sea. The corners of their mouths tug up and down like gull’s wings as they struggle to find the appropriate degree of horror to wear like a death shroud.

The volcanic air smells like Vectaeryn. It had not been called the Smoking Coast for —

He starts. A wailing child brushes past Caine's wings, and he stills when something wet presses against his feathers. "What —" 

Then, he realizes. That it is not blood, as his first instinct had thought it to be, but something far more concerning. A girl

A sniffling child who, for what reason he has yet to fathom, has turned her tearstained face into his wing like it was a tissue.

Gritting his teeth, he retracts his wings mechanically. What does she expect for him to do? 

She stares at him menacingly, and answers with a louder wail. 

"Alright." Gingerly, Caine extends his muzzle towards her. Alright. There is nothing else he knows how to do, except for what he has always done. His magic taps against the inside of his skull like a branch against a window. 

He cranes his neck down towards her, and his thin smile warns for the child to keep still as flames begin to leap from his silver eyes. His magic snakes along her cheek like a lullaby. She keeps as still as a porcelain doll. 

He shudders when the dreams begin to flow like cold water into him. A stack of half-formed, hazy paintings. He grabs at the clearest one, and hopes that his hunch is correct.

A flash of warm, golden eyes. A curl of chestnut hair. Deep skin, like chocolate. He cuts the flow of his magic like the twisting of a faucet, and scans the crowd for the mother.

"There. Do you see her?" He nods towards a head of chestnut curls. "She's waiting." Go, his lips curl, but the girl is already off before he has the chance.

He shakes his head, quietly unsettled. He forgets that the air smells like smoke, and that his mouth tastes like ash, for the rest of the night-black afternoon.

@Random Events | "speaks" | notes: even I don't know what happened but it's 3 am and I'm beat
rallidae | art

but darkness was here yesterday

♠︎ ♤ ♠︎

Sabine — Vagabond Youth Signos: 5
▶ Played by Kezz [PM] Posts: 23 — Threads: 4
▶ Female [She/Her/Hers] Hth: 15 — Atk: 5 — Exp: 15
▶ 1 [Year 502 Spring] Active Magic: Medium
▶ 15.2 hh Bonded: N/A

s a b i n e
I touch the French window
And leave you behind, one last time

When the earth roars, Sabine knows it is not with rage.

When she casts the spell of her window-wide gaze out across the choking sea and flickers beneath the bruised bulbous clouds overhead, she sees only fear upon the face of mother nature where others see wrath. 

What does the sky know of fury? 

The hum of chaos does not blind her. She sees the tears as they fall from land into water: weeping and inflamed and nuclear-orange.

She wonders, if she were to dip her hand into the ocean, would her skin now fall from her bones? Sabine did not think, even if it did, it could hurt more than when her heart had been ripped out from between her ribs. She still carries the scar; can you see it?

The world has committed treason against itself; nature is bleeding death through an orifice across the water and the girl can only watch as the mighty traipse like ghosts into chambers filled with gas and ash and terror.

She does not follow them. She does not try to save them. 

For she knows fear and her home has always been on fire.

What is another flame to lift the pyre higher?

art created by fiery-vulpes | table by kezz.
[Image: dbnivdi-4dcf9461-8e04-49e8-966c-3f4599c0...KvnIBGQKn8]

Morrighan — Night Court Soldier Signos: 15
▶ Played by Layla [PM] Posts: 23 — Threads: 4
▶ Female [She/Her/Hers] Hth: 10 — Atk: 10 — Exp: 12
▶ 4 [Year 499 Fall] Active Magic: Fire Manipulation
▶ 14.2 hh Bonded: N/A
As if the fires within Denocte weren't enough, now the world appeared to be on fire.

The smoke engulfed the horizon and suddenly everything became dark. It was when her lungs began to suffer from all the shit in the air that she finally decided to go out and see what the hell was happening. She didn't get a good vantage point until she got along the shore and that's when her eyes went wide.

It was like nothing she had ever seen before. The Great War had been one thing with the cries and screams and bloodshed, but this… this was much worse. It was as if the world was tearing itself apart and going up into smoke. The cracking and crunching could be heard in the distance and, for once, Morrighan felt scared. This was something entirely out of her control and there was no telling what was even happening. Judging from the voices and the cries from others around her, no one knew what was going on. Was this how the world ended?

A crowd was beginning to form along the shore as more and more gathered to watch the scene unfold. For Morrighan, she had seen enough and plus she was getting tired of breathing this air. Now it was time to find those that she knew and maybe get answers. It wasn't just Raum they had to worry about, it was this too. The grullo mare, now pissed, pushed her way through the crowd and ran. Somehow, her homeland seemed less chaotic than this one.



now the dark begins to rise
save your breath, it's far from over


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