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Played by Offline reli [PM] Posts: 28 — Threads: 8
Signos: 565
Night Court Scholar
Male [He/Him/His]  |  9 [Year 499 Summer]  |  18.3 hh  |  Hth: 8 — Atk: 12 — Exp: 20  |    Active Magic: N/A  |    Bonded: N/A
#1

boys, boys don’t cry
boys keep it all inside
It happens unceremoniously—his initial venture outside the borders of Denocte.

There is no great build-up, no intensity of anticipation. He simply…leaves. Grazing somewhere along the grassy fields near Vitreus Lake, an idea sits itching at the back of his mind, and without giving himself time to overthink it, the boy suddenly launches himself to the skies. Ignoring a twinge of pain that shoots through his right shoulder, he surges on leathery wings higher, higher, until the warm summer air is cooled by the expanse of the ocean.

He carries with him five supplies: scraps of charred bronze metal, a bundle of silk, a large black opal stone, a collection of dyes, and a crude drawing. It all began when he had been wandering through the Night Markets, guided by memories, when reminiscing suddenly led to an idea, a promise, of gaining something he had lost. Everything has been stolen from him (even the breath from his lungs, at one point) and there is very little control he has to take any of it back—but this, his armor, a piece of his former life, he can breathe existence into again.

With few blacksmiths living within Denocte, he had been told to travel elsewhere: abroad to the Dusk Court, to find an artisan living within the Citadel there. There are nerves that flicker at the ends of his already-frayed emotions, apprehension that ripens as the foreign empire comes into view, but the red stallion pushes onward. While recreating something of his former self may aggravate wounds that have only partially healed, this is something he believes he must do.

Circling overhead once, Fang lands heavily within the Court’s walls, the impact of his hooves striking the stones reverberating deep through his bones. Standing for a moment, his nostrils curl as he inhales the scents of this strange place. Fearing his anxiety will get the better of him, he grits his teeth and forces himself to move, ember eyes searching for the forge.

tag; @Uzuri
“…”
I try to hide it underneath
fang
x | x





Lost boys like me
are free.
please tag Fang in all replies; magic and force are permitted

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Played by Offline Chaosy [PM] Posts: 77 — Threads: 21
Signos: 35
Dusk Court Sovereign
Female [She/Her/Hers]  |  8 [Year 500 Spring]  |  17 hh  |  Hth: 12 — Atk: 8 — Exp: 24  |    Active Magic: N/A  |    Bonded: Neema (Maned Wolf)
#2


A yelp from Neema caught the mare’s attention, her movements jerking slightly. Rather than continue the work on the blade beneath her hammer, she laid the metal to the side and made her way out of her forge. A newcomer caught her attention and she approached with a warm smile. 

"Hello. I dont believe that we have met. I am Uzuri, sovereign of Dusk. Welcome to my home." She said as she stopped a few feet from the other. There were scents coming from him that screamed of a maker of some sort and she found that she was more than a little intrigued. Before she could speak again, her maned wolf companion was at her side and looking at the stallion with a playful grin. 

There was wariness in the canid’s stance, but she was doing better at being less protective and waiting for danger rather than being scared of the possibility. "He smells different… and his wings are different…" Neema muses to her bonded, bright green eyes flicking over the stallion. Uzi laughed softly and ruffled the thick fur on her back before turning her gaze back to the stallion. 

"Is there something I can help you with?" She asked softly, her demeanor almost motherly as she waited patiently for him to answer.

"Uzuri"
"Neema"
@Fang
Notes:
Credit: Character by Chaosy, Art by LizzArtStudios






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Played by Offline reli [PM] Posts: 28 — Threads: 8
Signos: 565
Night Court Scholar
Male [He/Him/His]  |  9 [Year 499 Summer]  |  18.3 hh  |  Hth: 8 — Atk: 12 — Exp: 20  |    Active Magic: N/A  |    Bonded: N/A
#3

boys, boys don’t cry
boys keep it all inside
It isn’t difficult to find what he is looking for. He follows the darkest plume of smoke that rises above the rooftops, offering awkward half-smiles to those he happens to make eye contact with along the way, the sacks hanging over his shoulders jingling lightly as they brush against one another. Lingering near the entrance of the forge, the stallion hesitates before going in. Instead, he watches the smoke for a moment, his gaze drawn by the smoldering wisps as they rise.

Thoughts tumble in his mind and pull him in different directions—the anxiety of anticipation, the fear of pain, the longings of once-was, and the sorrow that haunts his excitement.

He doesn’t quite know how to feel, or what he should be feeling.

Slowly inhaling through the knot in his chest, Fang shifts his weight to step into the forge before he jerks back again, halted by a pair of vibrant green eyes. There is some familiarity in the lanky wolf that twists his heart (Adira, I miss you) but he is able to recover from the sting of pain by the time a woman approaches from within. She is imposing but kind, and he does his best to mirror her easy grin. “Um, no, we haven’t. Hello,” the boy lowers his head in a short, respectful bow; when he had been a king, he had not cared for such formalities, but he knows well that not all rulers feel the same. “My name is Fang,” his dark lips skew as he meets her eyes again.

He nods in response to her question. “There is, actually. I’m from Denocte—” the briefest pause, his throat constricting around the words that sound foreign and out-of-place on his tongue, because he will always belong to Vasanta, “—and I’ve brought with me various supplies. I want to recreate some armor, and was told to find you, so I was wondering if you’d have the time to help me out?” His tone drifts off into a question at the end, not wanting to burden her but desperate for her to accept.

Reaching back into one of the satchels, he searches for a piece of paper. “Here, I have a drawing of what my armor was like before. I’m not an artist, so I apologize for the quality, but hopefully it’s enough to give you an idea,” Fang laughs softly at himself, handing Uzuri the sketch of his chest armor and holding his breath in anticipation.

tag; @Uzuri
“…”
I try to hide it underneath
fang
x | x





Lost boys like me
are free.
please tag Fang in all replies; magic and force are permitted

Reply




Played by Offline Chaosy [PM] Posts: 77 — Threads: 21
Signos: 35
Dusk Court Sovereign
Female [She/Her/Hers]  |  8 [Year 500 Spring]  |  17 hh  |  Hth: 12 — Atk: 8 — Exp: 24  |    Active Magic: N/A  |    Bonded: Neema (Maned Wolf)
#4


The stallion seemed young, not that she was any judge. Vespera knew she was just old at heart and thought of all as younger than she. With a smile, she watched the dip of his head. "Please, there is no need to bow. I haven’t been at this long enough to earn that yet." She said with a soft laugh, relaxing further. Her bonded glanced between the pair and then licked Uzi’s muzzle before curling up on the pile of pillows in the corner. 

She tasted the court name and had to think for a moment to remember exactly which one he was referring to. Maybe she was spending too much time in the forge when she had the spare moments. "Denocte… Night court, correct? I would be happy to help you." She beamed at him, her chocolate eyes lighting up as she stepped closer. 

She took in the sketch, her mind already picturing what it would look like in metal. With a nod, she looked back up at him. "I find that sketches are just a rough idea. I can see where you were going with it and think I can definitely do the work. Was there a particular color scheme that you were thinking for it? I have materials around the forge that we can definitely add to the piece as well if you desire." Uzi answered, lighting up with excitement at the challenge. She was not one to often forge armor, but it was a challenge she enjoyed.

"Uzuri"
"Neema"
@Fang
Notes: Uzi is all excited lol
Credit: Character by Chaosy, Art by LizzArtStudios






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Played by Offline reli [PM] Posts: 28 — Threads: 8
Signos: 565
Night Court Scholar
Male [He/Him/His]  |  9 [Year 499 Summer]  |  18.3 hh  |  Hth: 8 — Atk: 12 — Exp: 20  |    Active Magic: N/A  |    Bonded: N/A
#5

boys, boys don’t cry
boys keep it all inside
“Night Court, yes. Thank you,” Fang offers the Dusk sovereign a smile, and while it pales in comparison to the brightness of her own, it feels genuine and easy on his lips. With this being his first venture outside of Denocte since his arrival to Novus, he hadn’t been sure what to expect when it comes to an outsider visiting another court, and is pleased to find that there is no hostility. He remembers the brutality of the Ridge in Caeleste, and the bitterness he had harbored for them because of it… And how quickly little grudges dissolve when nightmarish monsters come to prey on everyone.

Briefly flicking his large ears back, the red stallion refocuses on Uzuri as she inspects the drawing of his armor. She seems enthusiastic to lend her aid, which eases his fear that he might be infringing too much on her time. “I appreciate your help. The armor doesn’t have to look exactly as it once did, but it would mean a lot to me to have it as close as possible,” he says, nodding at her question.

His original armor had been gifted to him from his family, and he thought it meant a great deal to him then, but years of defending and protecting the people of Vasanta (his true family) had built memories around the armor that he will always cherish.

Shifting his weight, Fang glances at the sketch that she holds, motioning to the different parts as he mentions them. “The metal is bronze, with accents of black opal stones, and the silks are meant to resemble flames in color. Here, let me show you the materials I have brought with me,” lowering his head and tilting his shoulders forward, he allows the satchels to slide from his back and onto the cobblestone at his feet. There’s a bundle of silk to be used for the tassels that will hang to protect his skin, as well as some dyes to color them. He noses a large black opal stone from underneath the silks, which can be cut down for the accents.

Brushing his whiskered muzzle against the charred scraps of bronze, the stallion hesitates for a moment. “You don’t have to use these, I’m not even sure you can in their state—but they are all that’s left of the original piece,” he can hardly see his reflection anymore in the parts that aren’t blackened. There are memories here, images of fire and monsters and destruction—when he breathes, he can feels the ghosts that continue to haunt his scars from the battles.

Clearing his throat, he pushes forward, and swallows past the thickness of the memories. “I figured they might be a good reference, if nothing else,” Fang shrugs his shoulders, trying to be nonchalant about his shift in tone.

tag; @Uzuri
“…”
I try to hide it underneath
fang
x | x





Lost boys like me
are free.
please tag Fang in all replies; magic and force are permitted

Reply




Played by Offline Chaosy [PM] Posts: 77 — Threads: 21
Signos: 35
Dusk Court Sovereign
Female [She/Her/Hers]  |  8 [Year 500 Spring]  |  17 hh  |  Hth: 12 — Atk: 8 — Exp: 24  |    Active Magic: N/A  |    Bonded: Neema (Maned Wolf)
#6


Uzi nodded as he spoke, mentally running through the names and faces that she knew and trying to remember who came from Night court as well. Caelum, Absynthe, Polar North... As of yet, she had not met any from the court that were worrying, though she was still on her mission to be at least on speaking terms with as many as she could be.

Uzi nodded as she listened to him. The sketch gave her much information, but as he brought out the materials, she felt like a child on their birthday. "I may not be able to use them as is, but I can definitely combine them with fresh bronze to incorporate them back into the armor. It seems that there is a story behind it." She answered, as she moved to her collection of metals that were ready for use. The blacksmith glanced between the bronze of his armor and the pieces she had, selecting those that were as close in color as possible.

There were emotions under his attempt at being nonchalant, but she would not pry. That was not her place. He would tell her if he desired, or not. "It seems to me that there is much that can be learned from the pieces and it will help me to shape it, but they can also be reworked into the piece to give you as much of the past armor as I can. I will warn that it will take me a bit of time." She says softly, her eyes traveling over his form to try to take in measurements. He was bigger than she, brawnier as well. That being said, she was also able to see where her own frame could be used as a reference and how to best work on fitting the armor for him.


"Uzuri"
"Neema"
@Fang
Notes: <3
Credit: Character by Chaosy, Art by LizzArtStudios






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