Eternal
Information
summer, year 3
Thick ice and continuously falling snow blanket the entirety of Eternal, brought upon by Noc's wrath. Shelter is scarce, and food even scarcer. There is no climate or biome that was lucky enough to find themselves safe from the beginnings of the Ice Age and so the residents of Eternal must don their primal survival instincts and to just that ─ survive. Ice blockages have grown supernaturally between the islands, blocking Sunsteppe from Sol and Eventide from Noc, effectively trapping each islander on whichever island they currently stand. The Dragonfrost and dusk leopards from Gleamleaf and greater boreus deer from Mountainfade have seeped into all of Noc, Eventide's spectors and Sunsteppe's sculptors have overrun the central island, and the wolves, Ice Piskys, and Creeping Thistle have invaded all of Sol.
OOC announcements
10.12.18 Noc has descended from the stars, and the reunion with his children, the three deities, is anything but happy. The whole of Eternal has been plunged into an Ice Age, and it seems that, for now, it's up to the deities to restore the islands. Will they be able to do so quickly enough? Or will the residents of Eternal know suffering because of the mishaps spread between Helios, Imbris, and Aya? For now, ice blockages have been erected between the islands, meaning that everyone is stuck where they currently are. Where is your character? Tell us here.

10.4.18 What?! An October raffle?!?!

9.22.18 Be sure to check out our gorgeous new map, complete with clickable links to your favorite territories!

8.4.18 Welcome to Winter, as Year 2 draws to a close! OTY Nominations will be up in a day or two ─ while we wait, please check out the Movie Night survey that was linked in our Discord!

7.28.18: Congratulations to the newest members of our team, our moderators Berb and Witty! Thank you so much to everyone who applied - we appreciate every single one of you.

7.24.18: The staff of Eternal are looking for their first MODERATOR! If you'd like to become a part of our team, click here to apply!

7.14.18 Round Two of the To Lands of Old Quest has been posted! Participants have until 11:59PM EST on July 28 to complete their rapid-fire old school battle posts. The information thread can be found >here!

7.1.18 Round One of the To Lands of Old quest can be found right here! Participants have until the night of the 8th to respond!

7.1.18: Welcome to version two: The Wreckage! Aya, Helios and Imbris have all created a beautiful sanctuary in which the characters we all know and love can come by to pay their respects, to place offerings, and seek counsel with the elusive deities. Furthermore, the database has been updated to reflect each level of an ability, the profiles have been given a complete overhaul, and our new layout is more streamlined than ever!

IC announcements
10.12.18 Noc has descended from the stars, and the reunion with his children, the three deities, is anything but happy. The whole of Eternal has been plunged into an Ice Age, and it seems that, for now, it's up to the deities to restore the islands. Will they be able to do so quickly enough? Or will the residents of Eternal know suffering because of the mishaps spread between Helios, Imbris, and Aya? For now, ice blockages have been erected between the islands, meaning that everyone is stuck where they currently are. Where is your character? Tell us here.

10.4.18 Whatever unknown thing that invaded the southern territories in the middle of spring has snaked its icy fingers out and enveloped those remaining territories that everyone had believed (or hoped) to be safe. Wolves, Creeping Thistle, Pesky Piskys, Blackrock's river... Not even Sunsteppe is safe from the intrusion, though it appears -- at least for now -- that the Wreckage remains untouched. Perhaps it should be investigated?

9.17.18 Something isn't right. Eternal still refuses to warm, even as we progress through spring and near summer. The southernmost territories have begun to notice some changes: from Greater Boreus Deer in Mountainfade, to Dragonfrost in Gleamleaf; frozen sandstorms in Astraldune, and even icy wraiths in Eventide. What happened? And what can be done to return the islands to normal?

9.2.18 Springtime has come, but the frigid winter still remains, enveloping the three islands in ice, snow and brutal wind. There are no flowers, nor grass - no foliage at all. The animals are beginning to suffer, as they emerge from hibernation or birth their young, struggling to find sustenance. The air is thick with tension, as a wretched and unforgiving storm brews still in the distance - will Eternal find reprieve from the cold?

8.4.18 Round Three of the To Lands of Old quest has been posted! The remaining participants have one week to get their posts in. Good luck and have fun!

7.27.18 Astraldune is under new leadership! In the wake of Solomon's disappearance, Helios has placed Gryffen into leadership!

6.26.18 Helios has appeared in Sunsteppe! What could he be doing there?

6.19.18 With magic from Imbris, Totem has been gifted with a daughter of her own, molded from clay and infused with a piece of her own soul. Make sure to check out the thread here!

6.1.18: Welcome to Summer!

5.26.18: The Grotto has been unveiled! Imbris paid a visit to Nymphetamine in Prismacove and led him on an underwater adventure to the Grotto, effectively creating a new sub-board for the residents of Prismacove to explore!

Character of the Year:
LELL
Couple of the Year:
HADERUS & GYPSY
Thread of the Year:
ASTRALDUNE TAKEOVER
[PLOT] Darkling, I Listen [Gypsy]
The Trickster

85 Posts
17 Threads
GENDER:
Male
AGE:
3
SPECIES:
Pegasus
ORIENTATION:
Bi/Polyamorous
DOMICILE:
Gleamleaf
ABILITIES:
Memory Manipulation
[T1-Intermediate]
Telepathy
[T2-Beginner]
Enhanced Speed [T3]
PLAYED BY:
Witty
#1
A single, sable, wing, rises from a back painted by the heavens and draped over the ebon stallion like a blanket. A makeshift shield to keep the icy projectiles from the fragile collagen fibers of his eyes. Each shard met his skin with a dull pang, the force with which they flew hurt more than the point of the arrows themselves, he’s been shivering the whole time but the adrenaline coursing through his body makes him forget what cold is. In his mouth his teeth chatter, jaw quivering from a failed attempt to be still, strong, he is much too bullheaded to acknowledge the frost that’s crept up the cliffside.

Lean muscle, from beneath obsidian skin aches from the pressure put against it, the way he had locked his knees and pushed himself against her gales. A feeling he would not be able to ignore come morning- whenever that was, he couldn’t tell what time of day it was here.

There is only anger felt in him now, due to the confusion she was causing, the confusion everyone was causing him. They didn’t make any sense, not a single one of them, turning their cheeks to him with eyes so heavy and familiar.

He didn’t know them, they didn’t know him.

“Stop it!” Shouts proceed to fly from his lips, inky black velvet, traced with the metallic essence of pure gold. Mostly he wants to be heard, heard over the raging wind that spirals out of control over the steppe, sending red clay dust into the air to paint the sunny, cold skies. Soon they would all see red from her performance. Red from the tantrum they seemed to both be having, each for different reasons, each justified. 

With the swift speed he has gained from the God’s,  he throws back the wind with a snap, moving his wings beyond quick. The whites of his eyes narrow, lids squinting to keep out the dirt, tears forming in his ducts from the irritation it caused.

Haderus still has no answers, the gilded female stands before him with anger in her eyes, ferocity that he has not seen matched. When he asks her name, how she knows him there is a shift in the way she presents herself, mere breaths where the armor is faded and cracked. He is not stupid enough to disregard it, but still, she is silent as the grave as she pivots away.

Abandoning him on the precipice of the canyons, the mess of a nest all that’s left.

“Hey!” It is a surprise he has not lost his voice, the raw feeling sliding up his throat, giving his otherwise pleasant vocals a rough, gravelly sound.

“Where do you think you’re going?!” Again he stomps as she flies off, taking to the sky as a great golden bird, but he knows only to chase, snorting loudly before a shrill whinny accompanies his rear. 

Haddy too knows how to fly.

“COME BACK HERE, I’M TALKING TO YOU!” Again the swift speed is paramount in his persistence here, allowing him to close in quickly, tailing her into the sun. Following her for answers, reasons, because he couldn’t let go the fact that she was angry like he had done something.

He didn’t even know this girl, who did she think she was?

Cat and mouse, though it is hard to tell which is which sometimes, the coast greats his eyes with heavy fog and bitter cold. Much colder than the cliffside had been.

“Just land already!” It is increasingly hard to see, struggling to stay at her tail feathers, not because he isn’t quick, but because she dissolves into the gloom here and there.

“I’m not leaving you!”
HADERUS
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
HTML by Witty-Word Count: 630 -Ode to a Nightingale


tagged it plot cuz, why not get some extra points eh?
@ Gypsy
Reply
quiet storm

60 Posts
7 Threads
GENDER:
Mare
AGE:
3
SPECIES:
ORIENTATION:
DOMICILE:
Blackrock
ABILITIES:
Aetos Dios Physiology [T1-Intermediate]
PLAYED BY:
Drea
#2
free spirit, wild heart
I’ve been observing your Earth. I am observing your life, and I’d like to make contact.


The gold-dusted bird fled. After plummeting from her crow’s nest to her false-death, she had shifted seamlessly into the form she’d become so familiar with. When she tries to make her daring escape from the canyons of Blackrock though, an unfamiliar sensation strikes fear in her wild heart. When she spreads her wings and calls for the gust to take her up, she is weighed down by the freeze. Crystalline pellets pummel against her beak and her chest, and she is blinded by the cold. Muscle memory alone delivered her safely from the frigid grip of the chasm.

Her lungs burned as she inhaled frosty oxygen, but it slowed her only slightly. She longs to go, to get away from him and all he has done to her. Once, twice, she hears him behind her, but she thinks that surely her mind is playing yet another trick on her, because he couldn’t possibly be so stupid as to continue this unwelcome pursuit. A swift glance over her left shoulder, and she sees she couldn’t be more wrong. Screeching her disapproval at him, she buckles down and attempts to lose him once again.

Tears pool at the corners of her emerald eyes, the cold and ice stinging with every flap of her wings. Straining against the element she thought she commanded so well, even her wind-bending powers are no match for whatever force is bringing this premature winter. Gypsy is afraid. Desperately looking for a place to land, she tries to spot familiar ground far below her. Finally she hears the words he’s been spewing nonstop since she departed, and it causes her to promptly nosedive.

Eventide is in no better shape than Blackrock, she soon discovers, but at this moment it matters not to her. The woman is overcome with emotion, burning white-hot and angry inside of her. When she’s close enough, she asks her body for a change and fortunately it responds immediately. Legs grow long, hard beak changes to plush muzzle, feathers morph into the tawny pelt she wears so well. Two bounding strides forward, and she’s gained her bearings. Like a prize cutting horse, she’s whirled again on that taught yet well-rounded hind end, searching the skies for him, a woman on a mission. Finally she has him in her sights, and she crow hops forward, shouting to the heavens at him.

LEAVING ME?!? I never asked to to come for me!” Her usually silvery voice is shrill and grating, wrought with shock and indignation. ”Not this time, or any other! You took me! Keep away you daffy little thing!” Each sentence punctuated by a stomp of one of her front hooves, surely she looked a mess out there, yelling at him with the world falling down around them. Gypsy didn’t care anymore.

A snort finalizes her words, and she picks up a collected trot, all at once quite disconcerted with what she sees is happening to Eventide. Overcome with melancholia, it is altogether different than the sorrow that encases her soul dealing with Haderus again. The air is thick, and she feels surrounded. The hoops she wears clang together as her ears pivot nonstop, the gilded female could swear she hears voices all around her. Slowing her gait, her stride becomes uneven, unsteady. The mare blows hard, snorting low in her throat.

The mare has incredible vision, thanks to the avian beast that lives inside her, but even she can barely see the nose at the end of her face. It is choking, heavy, she feels like she’s wading in a marsh. There’s a prickle down her spine she thinks for a moment is her imagination, until she experiences something not unlike a sharp nip from a rodent. Squealing, she’s lost control and bolts, head down, frantically trying to part the mist with the wind.  


In your mind you have capabilities, you know, to telepath messages through the vast unknown.
Reply
The Trickster

85 Posts
17 Threads
GENDER:
Male
AGE:
3
SPECIES:
Pegasus
ORIENTATION:
Bi/Polyamorous
DOMICILE:
Gleamleaf
ABILITIES:
Memory Manipulation
[T1-Intermediate]
Telepathy
[T2-Beginner]
Enhanced Speed [T3]
PLAYED BY:
Witty
#3
“I’m not leaving you,” he would chase her across Eternal for answers, he had questions. Was everyone mad here? Not once had she offered any inkling as to why she knew him, how she knew him, but she was quick to accuse- she is a liar, his thoughts tell him. They were all liars here, turning to him by name and narrowing their eyes, it made his lip curl in distaste.

Who did they think they were?

The air grows cold and weighted, pushing him down when he only wished to stay up, high above the head winds, in hot pursuit. The crazy blonde would not be allowed to just walk away, not without answering him first, he all but demanded answers- chasing her obsessively. If she dipped, so did he, pushing through the sharp winter winds with force, with speed and always managing to ride her tail- it wasn’t a bad view.

“Would you just land already!” It seems he only knows to shout, to holler at her against the ferocity of the gale in which they fly, she too stubborn to land, as for him, too relentless to cease his bird-dogging.

He watches her teeter, straining to stay ahead, though her head lowers, is she landing?

In silent answer she nosedives, a straight shot down, she’s lost her mind and swiftly he plummets behind her- a colored trail of dust staining the sky as he leaves it.

It is nothing to land, placing his hooves against the earth, so practiced and poised, though it is at a trot that he finds his footing, throwing his black head around- this never ending game of tag.

“You’re not a bad flyer, fast, but not fast enough,” the words are haughty and snobbish, the most in character thing he’s done since losing his memories. Haddy was sometimes too egotistical for his own good, so far it had served him just fine, why fix something that isn’t broken?

Tag and she is a poor sport, screaming at him and stomping her feet.

“Took you,” he returns the pitch of her shrill voice, snorting and lowering his head to pin his ears back. “TOOK YOU?! I’ve taken nothing, now who are you, how do you know me?!”

“Besides, If I did that, I would remember. I remember everything,” something about the way he says it is menacing, as if he alludes to a deeper meaning, and he watches her through vapid eyes, waiting for a response. Something he soon enough gets, she is almost gnawing at the bit to cut him with words, it solicits a maddened chuckle from his chest.

The insults roll from them both, she labels him a silly thing and it is apparent the indignation she has caused.

“Who you calling daffy, princess?” Look at her, golden and pristine, probably daddy’s girl, has she ever been told no?

Neither has he.

All the yelling receives notice, an even louder, more shrill call than them both, quickly drowning out anything else Haddy says. Tharn swoops down, finding purchase against the star stallions shoulders, again calling loudly and ruffling his feathers.

“A shouting match? I want to play,” he thoroughly sounded put out, left out, turning his grey eyes on the woman as she hurriedly walks away.

“Oh fine, I see, one of those,” he is frazzled, “too good to play with the bird.”

There was probably more to be said from the Harpy, but Haderus is not easily defeated, taking after her, this isn’t over. A steady grumbling of words leave his sooty lips, unintelligible, even by Tharn.

Something’s changed as he follows, the air becomes suffocating, there might as well be a blanket over his head, his eyes try hard to see through the mist that takes over the coast. A glimmer of her tail again, he could follow that ass anywhere. Tharn pecks him sharply, “Pay attention Romeo.”

A creeping sense of dread and forlornness overtake their path, her path, and when she bolts his heart races instinctively, rushing forth. He wasn’t about to just stand here and let himself get hurt.

Too quick, knocking into her, “Oof.”
HADERUS
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
HTML by Witty-Word Count: 713 -Ode to a Nightingale


this is a lot of word vom .-.

@ Gypsy
Reply
quiet storm

60 Posts
7 Threads
GENDER:
Mare
AGE:
3
SPECIES:
ORIENTATION:
DOMICILE:
Blackrock
ABILITIES:
Aetos Dios Physiology [T1-Intermediate]
PLAYED BY:
Drea
#4
See, I abducted you, so I tell you what to do.
Please close your eyes and concentrate with every thought you think on the things I’m about to say.


Relentlessly, he chases her. Was there no corner of Eternal she could find to shield her from her captor’s grasp? There would be no weakness she would show him, not now, not ever again. The tawny woman had made herself vulnerable to him once, he would not be allowed inside ever again. Creeping into the depths of her mind, he had made himself a home, and though it pained her worse than anything she had ever felt, she couldn’t forget him. A visit to her sorceress-dam was long overdue, she was beginning to think.

Even when she thinks she’s lost him, he’s there, and he’s hot on her tail, as he always was. For a stallion who’d never had a piece of her voluptuous ass, he sure was on it like it belonged to him alone. Her crazy landing-stunt still deters him not, and she grows more and more agitated as the chase continues. Her lungs burned from the exertion in the cold air, and all her appendages were running out of steam quicker than normal. It was a strange, unfamiliar feeling to the woman, her own weakness did not sit well with her.

Out of her peripheral she sees him land, and it is as flawless as she remembers it, so many months ago on the shores of this same beach. Gypsy curses him silently. He was always such a showboat, but isn’t that why she liked him? The confidence, the savoir-faire? Snorting, she rolls her eyes at him and at herself, for slipping into the trap that was him. She knew better, like she’d always known better.

Taunting her, his words are the needles of a cactus, and they make her bristle and pin her pierced ears. She wears a sneer as she turns to face him, but is rendered speechless when she hears his claims that he remembered everything, and that he never took her. Even though his voice is shrill and strikes her inner-ear with a fierceness, it doesn’t shake her from the shock. Something is wrong with her rocket man, and it isn’t the usual, quirky offness that she has grown so accustomed to. This is different, so very different.

They had lie together under the everlasting night that was the sky of Noc over and over. Wrapped in one another, some evenings were spent conversing, others were just comfortable silence. She knew the curve of his body, the feel of his wings pressed against her pelt, and never had she experienced this level of coldness and confusion. He has groomed her over and over, has become as close as he could get with her without physically penetrating her. He should know her as she knows him, as she’ll always know him. But there is nothing, a white, blank page in front of her, an empty shell. It pains her, but why?

The hatred should be swelling up in her, she should find great pleasure in his weakness, in his loss, but her heart has no room in it for such feelings. It had been made whole, then riddled with holes, then bandaged and healed again. As much as she wants to ridicule him, to make his journey harder, she cannot bring herself to such cruelty. Nor does she have time to, because there is a new task at hand.

He has a new companion it seems, oh how easily the eagle is replaced by another. The creature swoops down to pick at them, calling out it’s jealous desires. Gypsy snorts at the beast and threatens it with a hind leg, a dark hoof waived in the air in warning. In her equine form she cared not for predators, lest it be a panther or a kelpie. The vulture is not here for a quarrel or horseflesh it seems, and takes off dejectedly, Gypsy could almost swear she saw it pouting. No longer distracted by Haddy’s parlor tricks, she tucks her own hurt deep down inside of herself and barrels onward. Little does she know she’s venturing carelessly into the belly of a wholly more sinister beast.

Icy fingers down her spine and a nip at her flank cause her to bolt, and turn and run she does. Her jaunt is cut short though as she smacks face first into her inky pursuer, and her own grunt harmonizes with his as they both have the wind promptly knocked out of them. Shaking the daze from her mind, she regains her bearings quickly and speaks harshly to him, voice barely above a whisper.

”Shut it, something touched me. We aren’t alone, and I don’t mean that bird you’ve brought along with you.” The champagne mare can feel the air closing in around them, it’s like a noose around her throat. Voices in the nothingness, shrieks coming from the trees. Whatever forces that are at work seek to cause her to bolt again, to lose her wits, but with tired muscles trembling she stills her racing heart. He is the known, and so he is the solace in this storm for her.

The familiarity that comes with being alongside him once more is too easy for her to slip back into. There is a battle going on all throughout Eternal, for what she has no idea, but a war rages inside of her soul that she knows all to well. As the fog and the wind try to squeeze them into submission, her heart screams for her to let it grow, let it find roots in the depths of him once more. But her mind is more than terrified. It builds walls as quickly as he unknowingly tears them down. The scent of his sweat, the sensation of his breath upon her skin, the sound of his baritone voice ringing in her ears all working together try to trump the doubt that protects her fragile emotions. But Gypsy is not made of glass.

And so she allows the wall to fracture, and lets him into her mind once again.

 
I’m calling the occupants of the most extraordinary interplanetary craft.
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