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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.

Spotlight
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


All Welcome - -- alone with all that's on my mind;
Lasairian — Dawn Court Medic Signos: 585
▶ Played by cas [PM] Posts: 30 — Threads: 9
▶ Male [Him/He/His] Hth: 10 — Atk: 10 — Exp: 10
▶ 6 [Year 497 Winter] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 17 hh Bonded: N/A
#1
is this a natural feeling or is it just me bleeding?
The library felt endless, all those rows and rows of books, all that was held within each one; Lasairian could only imagine how much was really there. The idea of reading all of them sounded grand, but it was much more reasonable that he would be long gone by the time it might take to get through them all. He had started to read quite a lot where magic and medical matters were concerned, but there would always be more to read, more to learn. Lasairian was ever so interested in all the different areas of each subject there were, and even getting through all of those seemed daunting. But he still wanted to do so.

He still pushed himself to read more, seek out more that had anything to do with the subjects that he was interested in. Going through the rows of books, checking the titles for something that screamed out at him. He wanted something that just called to him for today. It could be anything, Lasairian wasn't passing up anything that just reached out at him right now. Maybe he was just looking for a sign, for something, anything, to direct him on a path that was outside of his norm. Lasairian felt like there was too much that aligned with this place, and wondered if it meant something more, somehow.

He had given up so much getting here, and he ached from those losses, from all that had been lost along the way. He didn't like talking about it, didn't want to go there, but it was constantly lingering on his mind. That much couldn't be helped, no matter how much he had been trying to push it away. Lasairian didn't want to dwell in the past, did not want to be so caught up in what had been that he couldn't see all that was now in front of him. He was worried that was how it would be, how he would keep going. So he tried to throw himself into what he could be here, into trying to be better all around.

On and on he went, searching for that one book that made him feel a certain way, something aside from what he felt in general looking at all the rest of them. Lasairian already had a deep love and respect for knowledge and the books that contained it, so it had to be something that really pulled him in, something that outshined everything else. It could be just a word, or the way a book looked; anything that caught his attention in a way that the others weren't right now. Not that quiet interest he regarded most with, but something more. He had to find that, even if it took all day and all night. So he kept going.
tag — any
template by cas • equine lines by AriesRedLo • border image from hashtag-bg.com


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Mateo — Dawn Court Scribe Signos: 675
▶ Played by Rae [PM] Posts: 50 — Threads: 10
▶ Male [He/Him/His] Hth: 14 — Atk: 6 — Exp: 11
▶ 5 [Year 498 Spring] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 14 hh Bonded: N/A
#2

Mateo thought intention was a fine thing. Much to his shame, he lacked it in most aspects of his life. The problem was not that he did not have the energy for it, but that he simply did not know what to throw himself into.

When the southern sky bloomed in colors of gunmetal and charcoal, Mateo did not go to investigate. Mateo retreated to where it was safe and quiet and there were answers to every question you could think of, if you only have the patience to search for it-- and patience was key. Sometimes the searching took a very long time. The sky was on fire(-- no, the sky was already burned) and while others danced and stomped and bared their teeth for war (what war? who are we fighting?) Mateo retreated and armed himself with the only weapon he ever wielded successfully- knowledge.

His favorite desk, in the quiet room where Ipomoea sought him out not very long ago, is covered with books. The Destruction of Islas is open to a detailed retelling of a volcanic eruption on an island-- Islas (a horribly uncreative name for an island, in his opinion)-- and its aftermath. Birds refused to fly overhead for months afterward, and it was said that all who stepped foot on the isle would be cursed. The author leaned too heavily on superstition and heresay and so Mateo had abandoned it in search of another, more informative read.  (From the abandoned book’s introduction: “The night before the eruption, a cardinal rested outside my window and tapped on the pane three times. I should have known, then, how doom approached swiftly on hooves of black death”… blah blah blah)

He has his nose in a scroll of Warden Thurisson's when someone else walks in, peering closely at the library’s vast collection. Mateo peeks at the other man to see if it’s someone he knows (he knows most Deluminians, on account of his sociable– borderline nosy– debatably not borderline at all– nature) but it isn’t. The pegasus returns to his scroll but the stranger intrigues him. All intent beings do.

After a few minutes he looks up. The scroll does not have the information he had hoped for anyway.

Hey,” he says, quiet but friendly. His eyes are fuzzy with sleep and his short mane tousled. A few feathers hang loosely from his wings, a sign that he has not flown in days. Days-- has he been here that long already? Regardless, he is able to smile sweetly despite his exhaustion. “What are you looking for?” 

- - -
@Lasairian
art


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Lasairian — Dawn Court Medic Signos: 585
▶ Played by cas [PM] Posts: 30 — Threads: 9
▶ Male [Him/He/His] Hth: 10 — Atk: 10 — Exp: 10
▶ 6 [Year 497 Winter] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 17 hh Bonded: N/A
#3
is this a natural feeling or is it just me bleeding?
Finding something worthwhile to throw oneself in was not something that should be done without thought, but Lasairian had felt too deeply about his studies at a young age to be able to see past it. He had known quickly what he had wanted to do, what he wanted to put his time and effort into. Maybe being here had wasted a lot of that, simply because Lasairian had lost the magic he had once held and honed, but the knowledge of it was still something that couldn't be taken away from him. He would always have that, and he would keep building upon it. That wasn't something that he meant to change. It was a part of him.

Yet he also had the medical side to fall back on, and the basics of it that had very little to do with magic. That was why he had gone for the position of medic, why he took that option here. Because he knew what he was doing at that non magic level of things, and it had been very much a part of his studies before, too. Yes, a lot of it had been magic infused and all, but Lasairian had still learned about all the helpful types of plants and herbs, how they should be prepared and applied. Things that did not need magic to work, just were helped when enhanced by it if need be. That was something Lasairian could do here, now.

And it held connections to his past that might be painful, but it was also a way to honor the good parts of that past; to honor the mentor that he'd had. It made sense to do this, go this route, for all of those reasons. So, that was what he had thrown himself into. What he researched the most these days, because he did want to get better at it, did want to reach for something above what he was now. There were different branches to choose from once he got to a certain point, but even here and now he had not decided which would be best for himself and others. But he would get there.

Just not today, while he was going down the shelves, looking up, down and across, seeking out that one book that would call to him above all others. There were several interesting titles that he would have to eventually come back for, but nothing that really jumped at him yet. Lasairian was always looking to expand his knowledge, but there were almost endless books here in this library, and he felt that it would take years and years to get through half of them. How many shelves were just dedicated to magic or medical subjects? Enough to keep him busy with those for a long time, no matter how fast he read.

Still, he had taken his break from that for this, because it did feel like there was some sort of guiding force there with him after coming to these lands, and he wanted to see how far that could go. So Lasairian kept looking, going down the line, the rows and rows upon books. No, nope, nope, he would come back for that later, no, not that, nope— Wait. Someone had spoken, quiet as it was, and it had Lasairian pausing in step to glance towards the sound of the voice, seeing the shadow shaded pegasus there, hearing the question posed to him. What was he looking for. Lasairian smiled warmly back, "something that calls out to me. Something unlike the rest," he responded lightly, looking at the other curiously.
tag — @Mateo
template by cas • equine lines by AriesRedLo • border image from hashtag-bg.com


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Mateo — Dawn Court Scribe Signos: 675
▶ Played by Rae [PM] Posts: 50 — Threads: 10
▶ Male [He/Him/His] Hth: 14 — Atk: 6 — Exp: 11
▶ 5 [Year 498 Spring] Active Magic: N/A
▶ 14 hh Bonded: N/A
#4

To be honest, Mateo had expected a more concrete answer from the other stallion. Something like Ardgo's Fourth Century Deluminian History or The Epicurean Gardens of Terrastella or even something as vague as folklore texts. Something Mateo could work with.

"Oh." A small, disappointed frown colors his expression. "I probably can't help you then." He replays the other man's words-- "something that calls to me. Something unlike the rest." and he tilts his head curiously. "Although... aren't they all unlike the rest, sir?" He is not searching for a philosophical argument, and it shows in the politeness of his words, but for Mateo each book had a magic of its own, a certain uniqueness, be it in the topic or the tone or the language of the writing. It's what made reading so wondrous, because each time it made his world feel just a little bigger. Every sentence made him think something differently, feel something differently.

"I think I know what you mean, though," he says quickly, lest the stranger take offense. God knows the winged stallion has gotten into terrible moods where he wants to read so many things at once that he does not read anything at all. The same would happen with songwriting, or singing itself. The pursuit of perfection, and the impatience to achieve it, so often swallowed itself whole, leaving one with nothing at all but the sense of having wasted precious time.

"Sometimes you just need to get through a few rotten apples before you find a peach, you know? I mean," he takes a quick breath, clarifying his statement before the pale stallion even has a chance to respond to it,"sometimes we don't hear the books that are calling to us, until other books show us how to listen."

Mateo grins then, as if to say but what do I know and flutters his wings in greeting. "I'm Mateo. Or just Teo. Or whatever else you'd like to call me, really." He was quite proud of his many nicknames-- he liked thinking he was someone different to every person-- but most just called him Mateo, and he was proud of that too because it was the name his mother chose for him. And a damn fine name it was, in his opinion. "Anyway, I hope you find what you're looking for."

- - -
@Lasairian sorry for the wait! <3
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