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Played by Offline sid [PM] Posts: 26 — Threads: 6
Signos: 140
Day Court Citizen
Male [he/him/his] // 7 [Year 496 Summer] // 16 hh // Hth: 10 — Atk: 10 — Exp: 16 // Active Magic: N/A // Bonded: N/A

home is behind the world ahead
there are many paths to tread

The desert, like all other things eventually do, had grown boring. 

Since his escapade into the night court, the capitol to the north had grown suspiciously quiet. There were rumors, of course - the silver king was said to be plotting another great feat to bring one of the courts to heel. Sometimes the shadows whispered that his rage for denocte knew no bounds; other times, they claimed a new target somewhere in the west. That was only one of the rumors, albeit one that often took different faces. 

Toulouse had also heard that the crow had left solterra, that he had slipped out unseen and vanished in the night. A girl in the markets had told him the king was sick, that a server boy she knew had served the king medicine in his bed. The next day he’d heard from a soldier that the king had ready sent out half of his army, hunting for the relic on the island. The day after that, a blind cripple had prophesied that the king’s very own pet monster would consume him in his sleep, three days hence. 

That was a fortnight ago. 

No matter how many tales the pale man heard, none of them proved true. King Raum of Solterra was, as ever, an enigma: distant and cold, shrouded in secrecy. 

But his secrets were no secrets at all, only pretenses at mystery. Solterra was quiet, save for her peoples’ sobbing. Even now, as Toulouse flicked an ear back behind him, he swore he could hear them gnashing their teeth. 

Eventually, more exciting talk had reached him. He had hesitated, if only for a second; he had a job to do in Solterra, a duty to serve. But then he had laughed, and the next morning had found him deep in the Mors, trudging towards a new horizon. Toulouse had only ever shown loyalty towards one man, and his desires always lined up with his own. 

And thus does he find himself in Terrastella.

He isn’t sure what he’s hunting - only that there’s something to be found here, something more tempting than even the Relic of Tempus, in part because of the history, the notes, the secrecy. He couldn’t have stayed away even if he’d wanted to. 

The tall grasses of the Susurro are pale, as pale as his own skin, dancing along his legs as he wades through a sea of gold. Today he has left his scarves at home, the better to feel the sun and wind upon his own skin - only his diamond horseshoes remain, and the green pendant wound about his neck. 

He lifts his white, horned head to the sky.

And smiles. 

@open to anyone!! 
taking part in the halcyon scavenger hunt c: 

@redandblack not sure if i did this right but 
happy to participate!

sunshine mixed with a little hurricane

dancing all alone in the morning light
you came in like a wave when i was feeling alright

Played by Offline Laine [PM] Posts: 1 — Threads: 0
Signos: 230
Dusk Court Medic
Female [She/Her/Hers] // 9 [Year 495 Spring] // 14 hh // Hth: 14 — Atk: 6 — Exp: 10 // Active Magic: Ritual Healing // Bonded: N/A

it's a long way down to the bottom of the river
There was work to be done and so Sigrun had set out from her home in the heart of the swamp to see it done. Her stores had been growing thin and needed replenishing. They needed doubling, perhaps, if she wanted to be ready for the trials ahead, and not everything she needed could be found close to Tinea. The fields were the first step on her foraging foray and though she was careful in picking her way through the long grasses her mind was more than occupied.

Terrastella--and beyond that the rest of Novus--waited for her and to the Witch Doctor it was difficult not to see it as a ring of wolves ready to begin the hunt the moment her people left the safety of their hidden halls. Her vision had showed her a people restored but the isolation that had once saved them was now the obstacle to their growth.

It was time to meet the wolves.

A flash of gold catches her eye, movement in the tall grasses, and painted woman is pulled from her thoughts to focus her attention a figure moving on a collision course to her own path. “Lone wolf… But is your pack nearby?” barely more than a murmur on her breath, the words carry all the weight of her dark thoughts.

Do I start this now? Do I have a choice? She doesn’t. The impulse to fade back before she can be noticed is curbed. Go forth, Sigrun, the world is waiting. To hide is to die. Resolute in her purpose, Sigrun obeys.

She picks up her step, moving to intercept the stranger at a trot and when he lifts his head she calls out. “Be still, child, and tell me your name.” Her voice is calm, matronly, though the cadence is strange. There are half-beat pauses between each phrase, and she turns her head to glance around looking back at her target only when she quiets.

She slows as she approaches, peering at the figure before her who is as polished as she is dull. Rusty eyes squint appraisingly, giving her a slight nearsighted and takes in all that she can see. ”You don’t belong here.” It’s not a question, not even a judgement, just a flat statement. ”No you don’t belong here, shiny thing. Don’t look at the sky too much while you walk, not around here.”


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