Novus
an equine & cervidae rpg
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Novus closed 10/31/2022, after The Gentle Exodus

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Played by Offline Dyzzie [PM] Posts: 64 — Threads: 7
Signos: 50
Vagabond Tactician
Female [She/Her/Hers/They/Theirs]  |  10 [Year 501 Spring]  |  18.2 hh  |  Hth: 7 — Atk: 13 — Exp: 29  |    Active Magic: N/A  |    Bonded: N/A
#1




P a n g a e a


everybody in the world are you with me?
it's too late to try to run, we run the city
it's my time, it's your time

The mare stared out into the sea, ignoring the silence of dusk settling around her. The wind wafted around her, causing her bound up mane and tail to float slightly, but her eyes were hard, cold, uncaring, unseeing. Ears twitched, before her muzzle unhinged, fangs glinting in her muzzle, razor-sharp as a predator's should be. A shriek, a call, reptilian, fear-invoking, tore through her vocal cords, a sound last heard millions of years ago, when creatures the size of small mountains traveled the land, reptiles of vast sizes. Her ears pitched forward, desperate for a call, desperate for a response from Duellum. But, there was nothing. Silence. Still. No, scatter of claw on rock as he attended to her side. No familiar feel of his own canines nipping at her flesh in play, offering to mock fight with her to let her loosen the stress, the tension.

She was truly alone wasn't she? Fuck. When had this happened, why had this happened. It hardly seemed fair. Trapped in a world she was not used to. The trees to small, the ferns non-existent. The air to dry. Nothing was familiar here. There were no sounds of her people. No dinosaurs to cross the path with. Nothing. Nothing but these weak, frail-minded horses that seemed to be so peaceful. Bah, don't they know what peaceful got you. Dead. It got you dead when something bigger, more dangerous fucking showed up with a red-tinted gaze of blood lust and hunger. Pangaea wouldn't sink to that level. She knew better. She knew what awaited those who hid behind peace and laziness. Death. Fucking Death. And she wasn't doing it. She had battled all odds to get to this point. She'd been the sole survivor of her clutch. She'd survived her pack being massacred. She'd slammed Duellum back into his body when she almost lost him too. Grasped his soul and refused to let him leave, to let him escape. Sure, he might not be alive in the same sense, but it was damn close enough. 

And he had kept her from being alone. Funny how that shit's all kinds of fucked up now. This place made her feel more alone than ever. Her ears pinned back, the feeling of metal in her ears as soothing as the heavy, cold metal around her neck, the bangles in her mane and tail that kept the unruly curls pinned down. The saurian-horse turned from the water, walking along the edge of the beach, hooves dainty, her hind claws curling so they wouldn't catch and leave drag marks in the sand. Did she look a frightful mess to anyone who saw her? Scales, and claws? Fangs, and slitted eyes. Wings that mirror a bat more than a bird (and a pteranodon more than a bat at that). Would the ones in this world be afraid of her?

A cold sneer twisted across her face. They had better. She didn't have time to deal with them. No point really. She'd learned the hard way, packs only lead to heartbreak, and while this world might not be so cutthroat . . . well, she was a different sort anyways . . . Who would really wanna break bread (or steak, if she had her choice) with a creature like her? Yeah, it was easier to be alone. She wouldn't be alone for long anyways. She'd find Duellum, he was all she really needed anyways.


held me down, now it's don't-give-a-fuck time

"Speech"
Thoughts
@Faction
Notes: Figured I'd also set this as an all welcome, incase anyone wants to brave dealing with Faction AND Pangaea in the same thread.

it's go time, it's show time
sing it with me everybody, let's go

Artwork ©Sephinta






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Played by Offline Chaosy [PM] Posts: 15 — Threads: 2
Signos: 5
Day Court Battlemage
Female [She/Her/Hers]  |  11 [Year 500 Spring]  |  18 hh  |  Hth: 18 — Atk: 22 — Exp: 29  |    Active Magic: Necrobotany  |    Bonded: Sors (Necrobotanic Maned Chupacabra)
#2



Novus was an odd place, a place that the plain little mare was still trying to figure out. Sors was beside her as usual, something that the equine took great comfort in. If she had been forced to learn this world alone, she would have been a disaster. One odd side effect of the portal and new world was that she finally had a better grasp emotionally. She had been less crazy since the transfer.

That was part of why they were out together. Sors wanted to explore the realm, and Faction was blindly following as she let her mind work through the strange puzzle that had been given to her. "Are you ok? You are rather quiet…" The canine remarked, glancing up at her with is orbs that served for eyes. 

"What? Oh… yeah. It is like a fog was lifted from my mind and I am trying to understand it." Faction remarked softly, pressing her muzzle to his shoulder blade and smiling. They were approaching the sea, which was changing the scents that danced along her nares. That was when the shriek echoed around them. Faction’s head jolted up, her eyes seeking anything that could have caused it. Beside her, Sors started to scent the air more intensely. 

"There is something ahead… not like you… but equine in some form… female, if the scent is anything to go off of." The canine commented as they stepped forward. Faction nodded and kept a wary eye ahead. Seeing the creature, she paused a healthy distance away. 

Every inch of her was on edge, the sense of predator screaming through her. Draconic wings, predatory claws on those rear legs and more hair than she had ever seen on an equine. Clearing her throat, she readied herself to flee if attacked.


"Um… Are you alright?" She called, unease spiking through every nerve the mare possessed.

"Faction's Words" - "Sors' words"
@Pangaea
Notes: Note to self, this is pre hunt XD





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Played by Offline Dyzzie [PM] Posts: 64 — Threads: 7
Signos: 50
Vagabond Tactician
Female [She/Her/Hers/They/Theirs]  |  10 [Year 501 Spring]  |  18.2 hh  |  Hth: 7 — Atk: 13 — Exp: 29  |    Active Magic: N/A  |    Bonded: N/A
#3




P a n g a e a


everybody in the world are you with me?
it's too late to try to run, we run the city
it's my time, it's your time

The saurian mare snorted gruffly as her gaze narrowed out around the world, the sea that crashed against cliffs and beach. It was odd, to tell the truth, being so close to the water. There were no reptiles breaching the surface. Mosasaurs hunting in the depths, plesiosaurs snapping birds out of the air. Just. Silence. Stillness. Peace. When had she ever been in a place with such peace? Had she ever experienced such a thing before? So she snorted quietly, and chose to just ignore it. She wouldn't be lulled by soft gentleness. She'd be on guard, watchful.

She hears movement, and new scents in the air and it's what first makes her pause and her ears twitch back. She turns slowly, eyeing the mare with the odd creature, canine but plant by her side. Pan's eyes narrow as the mare shifts to stand taller, wings folding against her sides. A partial dominance display to discourage either from attacking - she just didn't know these equine very well around her . . . and too many saw her as a monster, with pitchforks being called forward to chase her away. It's why she had been locked up for so long afterwards.

Pangaea snorted at the sudden question, the woman turning away from the two slightly as she clearly thought over the question, "Depends on your definition of alright, and in what regards you ask it." She finally conceeds, before glancing back at the canine, "Forgive me if I'm rude . . . but . . . what is . . . your friend?" She adds, her guard still up while such an unknown is present, her gaze still watching, pupils slitted, in case the vaguely canine-plant chose to attack.



held me down, now it's don't-give-a-fuck time

"Speech"
Thoughts
@Faction
Notes: I have no idea where this is going?

it's go time, it's show time
sing it with me everybody, let's go

Artwork ©Sephinta






Reply




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