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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

Private - but the steel around your heart is starting to rust
Israfel — Dusk Court Warden Signos: 10
▶ Played by Sparrow [PM] Posts: 82 — Threads: 15
▶ Female [She/Her/Hers] Hth: 22 — Atk: 18 — Exp: 31
▶ Immortal [Year 496 Summer] Active Magic: Pyromancy
▶ 16.1 hh Bonded: Solaris (Phoenix)
I am the fire, I am burning brighter
Roaring like a storm
And I am the one I've been waiting for
Screaming like a siren
Alive and burning brighter
I am the fire

It was subtle, at first, the changes of her own body. Israfel honestly thought nothing of it at first, but then it happened. One morning she woke up in her chambers and noticed that she was rather round.

Winter was upon them so it was only natural that she put on a little bit of weight, right? Her body was preparing for the long freezing nights and the short days. The length of her coat had grown quite a bit this winter season, managing to hide a bit of the strange, sudden weight, but there was no doubt that the Warden was a little bit rounder than she remembered being even just last season. Denial, of course, was her first reaction, because the other alternative was beyond terrifying.

”... You haven’t been eating that much,” Solaris said, her words both welcome and obnoxious as she glided in lazy wide arcs around the Sun Daughter’s head, ”Not enough to gain that much weight, anyway.”

Israfel’s pink lips twisted up in a snarl and she narrowed her eyes, staring daggers of fierce vermilion up at the Phoenix. “Then what else could it be?” Wisely, Solaris chose not to answer.

In the back of her mind, however, she was somewhat certain that she might know. Judging by Solaris’ own sidelong looks and knowing glances, the Phoenix knew as well. It had been awhile since she and Ulric had shared that passionate, frantic night together at the creek, just the two of them chasing the meaning of ‘hope’ beneath the cover of darkness. It was fleeting, and they hadn’t seen one another since then, but the blue roan was on her mind like the plague.

Leaving her chamber that morning, Israfel moved through the halls of the citadel at her usual confident pace, cloven hooves drawing her along at a cocky sashay. It was a cold morning, the freezing grasp of winter in full swing, but the Sun Daughter wasn’t bothered by the chill that lingered in the hallways. Her body ran unnaturally hot, and as she carried herself down the halls her body seemed to steam beneath the cool air. Stopping a nearby soldier that straightened upon seeing her, Israfel inquired where Asterion was. He thought for a moment before answering.

’I saw the King leave just a bit ago, heading towards the cliffs. Try there?’ It was as good of a place to start as any. Thanking the soldier and leaving him to continue his business, the Warden pressed on, navigating the halls of the Dusk citadel by heart. By now she knew this land like she knew her own body. Although with the most recent developments, perhaps that wasn’t the most appropriate of comparisons to make. Regardless, she soon stepped outside and stretched, allowing her wings to fan out with a few cracks from her shoulders. The chilly air was a nice reprieve and soothed away the sweat coating her brow, but soon enough she pressed on, stepping out into the cold morning and moving casually through the snow. It was only when she was a good distance away from the citadel itself that she took to the skies, kicking up snow during her take off.

Overhead she soared, the cold air making her eyes tear as she searched the white coated land pass by beneath her very hooves. It didn’t take too long to find him, an earthen stain upon the otherwise crisp snow-white of the cliffside. Tucking her wings close, Israfel dove down, down, down, stretching her legs out to brace for landing, her hair windswept and terribly unruly. Landing with surprising grace but kicking up a considerable amount of snow and ice, the Warden jogged to a halt a few paces from the Dusk King and grinned, mist curling from her rose-kissed lips. Beneath the sheer drop of the cliffs, the waves churned and crashed against the stone, creating a pleasant ambient noise to her ear.

“Mornin’.” The greeting was said easily enough, called between the brief distance between them. Gilded wings came to rest upon her round sides and Solaris lowered herself to her bonded’s croup, the massive Phoenix nodding her head towards Asterion in a sign of respect. “Just the man I was looking for.”


Please Tag Israfel in all Replies!

Asterion — Dusk Court Sovereign Signos: 1,435
▶ Played by Griffin [PM] Posts: 328 — Threads: 34
▶ Male [He/Him/His] Hth: 42 — Atk: 38 — Exp: 87
▶ 7 [Year 496 Winter] Active Magic: Water Manipulation
▶ 16 hh Bonded: Cirrus (Pallas's Gull)

       A S T E R I O N

                                   in sunshine and in shadow*

It would be a mistake to say that Asterion’s visits to the high cliffs with the surf crashing below have increased of late, when for years now they have been his haven; still, his returning there has become more habit than conscious respite. The king had risen with the pearl-colored dawn and walked beneath the still-hanging moon to see the sun come up over the water.

As always, the bite of the cold is a balm to his ever-running thoughts, and he lets them go as though they could be carried out with the current like so much flotsam. Somewhere below him, Cirrus is hunting; her cries mingle with that of the other sea-birds, another familiar layer of sound to the winter day.

For a moment he can almost pretend everything is normal, and everyone is safe. But even the horizon holds no promises anymore, not when he has seen it spill smoke and ash, not when the earth has groaned beneath his feet. Then there is Raum, and his bloody-handed reign, another monster he isn’t sure how to fight. Like whitecaps his worries rise up again and for all his endless love of the sea, for all his tireless care for his people, Asterion wonders if he might not yet drown beneath them.

The bay is glad, then, to see the pale shape approach on wings far wider than any albatross or eagle, accompanied by a bird so bright she puts the midnight stars to shame. There is no laugh on his mouth but one lives in his eyes to see his Warden dive like a falcon for the bright powder of snow, and he ducks his head in greeting as she approaches.

In many ways he is still the boy he was before Novus, untrained in feminine experience; even if he had been the type to notice Israfel’s new roundness, he would likely not guess the why of it. With her gilded wings tucked against her sides, the only thing the king notices is the bright glow of her, a gleam from horn to hooves, and all he thinks is that he is glad to see her looking happy.

“You look well,” he says, and matches her grin with his own. “I didn’t know winter suited you so.”

@Israfel <3


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