<![CDATA[R-Vivarium - Northern Alpines]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/ Sat, 18 Apr 2026 12:34:47 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[eepy]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7946 Tue, 04 Nov 2025 01:26:03 -0500 Sommie]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7946
Maecenas suscipit nisl nec egestas ultricies. Sed vitae arcu in mauris faucibus porttitor. Quisque euismod enim sit amet justo maximus finibus. Maecenas laoreet urna at metus rutrum, eget porttitor nunc molestie. Integer leo est, tempor sed turpis sit amet, lobortis volutpat sapien. Nam et aliquam risus, eget convallis mauris. Donec eu enim condimentum, ornare nunc sed, viverra risus. Proin sodales nisi orci, a finibus leo laoreet sit amet. Pellentesque sed odio non mauris euismod malesuada sit amet vel purus. Donec nec sodales urna. Fusce diam leo, ultrices id interdum eget, egestas non nulla. In hac habitasse platea dictumst. Curabitur ornare enim a mauris dignissim tincidunt.]]>
Maecenas suscipit nisl nec egestas ultricies. Sed vitae arcu in mauris faucibus porttitor. Quisque euismod enim sit amet justo maximus finibus. Maecenas laoreet urna at metus rutrum, eget porttitor nunc molestie. Integer leo est, tempor sed turpis sit amet, lobortis volutpat sapien. Nam et aliquam risus, eget convallis mauris. Donec eu enim condimentum, ornare nunc sed, viverra risus. Proin sodales nisi orci, a finibus leo laoreet sit amet. Pellentesque sed odio non mauris euismod malesuada sit amet vel purus. Donec nec sodales urna. Fusce diam leo, ultrices id interdum eget, egestas non nulla. In hac habitasse platea dictumst. Curabitur ornare enim a mauris dignissim tincidunt.]]> <![CDATA[when the laurel grows heavy on your brow]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7942 Sat, 07 Jun 2025 14:55:24 -0400 Dracarys]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7942
a lil joining thread; all welcome! <3

he has not seen hide nor hair of his sister in some time, the summit that she had sought to claim devoid of her scent. though upset roils in his chest, a darkness that threatens to swallow him; dracarys keeps to his plan, with some deviation. with the strange visions he's gotten he hasn't been sleeping well. and because he hasn't been sleeping well, he hasn't been hunting well either. he conserves as much strength as he can to hunt rabbit; small mammals that keep starvation at bay but what feels like barely.

he's thin.

and he's tired.

and he craves the hierarchy of a pack.

and so he set off in search of one, settling for the one nearest his position. he stops a respectful distance from their borders, tips his head back and lets out a low howl to announce his presence; squinting against the sun of the early morning as it rises over the horizon.

speech ]]>
a lil joining thread; all welcome! <3

he has not seen hide nor hair of his sister in some time, the summit that she had sought to claim devoid of her scent. though upset roils in his chest, a darkness that threatens to swallow him; dracarys keeps to his plan, with some deviation. with the strange visions he's gotten he hasn't been sleeping well. and because he hasn't been sleeping well, he hasn't been hunting well either. he conserves as much strength as he can to hunt rabbit; small mammals that keep starvation at bay but what feels like barely.

he's thin.

and he's tired.

and he craves the hierarchy of a pack.

and so he set off in search of one, settling for the one nearest his position. he stops a respectful distance from their borders, tips his head back and lets out a low howl to announce his presence; squinting against the sun of the early morning as it rises over the horizon.

speech ]]> <![CDATA[they all pretend i have form]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7937 Fri, 06 Jun 2025 11:20:47 -0400 Dalmatia]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7937
placed after this thread


It had whispered to them, calling the lovers towards the great expanse of land between the mountains of Northfall and Dawnbreak. An unknown landscape that Dal had only ever seen in glimpses up on the mountains. She never quite looked down as much as she looked out into the world. The spotted dove couldn't resist the summons; it pulled at her heart — something was out there, waiting for them. Though a pit swirled in her stomach, one she tried to ignore, what if it wasn't the runes that called them, but the purple snow? The gray clouds overhead grew thicker as they headed North, when previously, their date by the river had them scattered about. She prayed silently that they didn't hold the suffocating violet snow that Tibbi had talked about — and that she had seen atop the mountain, before they made their way down.

With hope guiding them both, and the small tinge of worry, she walked aside N​ó​ttin, barely letting their sides sway away from touching. She needed him as support, as curious as she was, she had a duty to be there for her love as well. She didn't want him to worry about her running ahead into the vast unknown. They'd already detoured their original path to Northfall for a voice whispering in the wind. A language she wouldn't have known if not for the translation, which seemed to unravel itself within her head.

I hope this is the right way. They were blindly following where the voice foretold; Dal trying to keep from slowing them down. She wanted to make sure they weren't missing anything — though it was hard to know what to look for when you didn't really know what to expect. Nonetheless, she kept her faith, following the way her heart pulled.


]]>
placed after this thread


It had whispered to them, calling the lovers towards the great expanse of land between the mountains of Northfall and Dawnbreak. An unknown landscape that Dal had only ever seen in glimpses up on the mountains. She never quite looked down as much as she looked out into the world. The spotted dove couldn't resist the summons; it pulled at her heart — something was out there, waiting for them. Though a pit swirled in her stomach, one she tried to ignore, what if it wasn't the runes that called them, but the purple snow? The gray clouds overhead grew thicker as they headed North, when previously, their date by the river had them scattered about. She prayed silently that they didn't hold the suffocating violet snow that Tibbi had talked about — and that she had seen atop the mountain, before they made their way down.

With hope guiding them both, and the small tinge of worry, she walked aside N​ó​ttin, barely letting their sides sway away from touching. She needed him as support, as curious as she was, she had a duty to be there for her love as well. She didn't want him to worry about her running ahead into the vast unknown. They'd already detoured their original path to Northfall for a voice whispering in the wind. A language she wouldn't have known if not for the translation, which seemed to unravel itself within her head.

I hope this is the right way. They were blindly following where the voice foretold; Dal trying to keep from slowing them down. She wanted to make sure they weren't missing anything — though it was hard to know what to look for when you didn't really know what to expect. Nonetheless, she kept her faith, following the way her heart pulled.


]]> <![CDATA[rockstar on a centaur]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7936 Fri, 06 Jun 2025 09:23:53 -0400 Amaranth]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7936
Skill:
? || AW for any Avon folks/grandkids!
Maybe 2-3 max for my small brain? <3
[Image: dc4m3i2-87e99cba-7abd-4524-9974-79197204...ovRCBg463c]
Traveling to and from Avon had grown quickly tiresome, and not just in the physical sense of the word. The poisoned water was steadily worsening, the plague sapping the strength of the wolves of Elysium in a very noticeable way. especially grew quickly exhausted, gaunt of face and harsh of cough. It was a small blessing that Amaranth barely needed sleep, for the harsh honking of her mate would have kept her awake regardless.

Amaranth grew more and more worried for her wife.

Thankfully, and 's newest litter were a reason for the two grandmothers to travel out of ground zero and get some fresh air. had granted them passage into the Blushed Meadows at their leisure, and Amaranth had taken the afternoon to utilize the offer.

As she left the plague zone, the sky seemed to clear. The fog dispersed, the scent of decay and acrid water gradually dissipating. The wraith would inhale deeply, taking in the scent of grass and flowers before a fit of harsh coughs rattled through her chest. The woman would slow, shaking her head and pawing at her face as her sinuses burned, amethyst eyes watering as she practically wept toxic tears out of her eyes to flush her system.

After a few moments, she would steady, swallowing phlegm and shedding herself of the memory with a final shake of her head. She would move forward once more, tall frame moving with practiced grace through the auburn fields as she passed the border marker and made her way toward Avon's commons. Her gaze would search the field, ears pressed forward as she listened for the sounds of tumbling newborns.

She had a gift for them ... for in her scruff were freshly woven with shiny, black raven feathers. One for each of her grandchildren.
]]>
Skill:
? || AW for any Avon folks/grandkids!
Maybe 2-3 max for my small brain? <3
[Image: dc4m3i2-87e99cba-7abd-4524-9974-79197204...ovRCBg463c]
Traveling to and from Avon had grown quickly tiresome, and not just in the physical sense of the word. The poisoned water was steadily worsening, the plague sapping the strength of the wolves of Elysium in a very noticeable way. especially grew quickly exhausted, gaunt of face and harsh of cough. It was a small blessing that Amaranth barely needed sleep, for the harsh honking of her mate would have kept her awake regardless.

Amaranth grew more and more worried for her wife.

Thankfully, and 's newest litter were a reason for the two grandmothers to travel out of ground zero and get some fresh air. had granted them passage into the Blushed Meadows at their leisure, and Amaranth had taken the afternoon to utilize the offer.

As she left the plague zone, the sky seemed to clear. The fog dispersed, the scent of decay and acrid water gradually dissipating. The wraith would inhale deeply, taking in the scent of grass and flowers before a fit of harsh coughs rattled through her chest. The woman would slow, shaking her head and pawing at her face as her sinuses burned, amethyst eyes watering as she practically wept toxic tears out of her eyes to flush her system.

After a few moments, she would steady, swallowing phlegm and shedding herself of the memory with a final shake of her head. She would move forward once more, tall frame moving with practiced grace through the auburn fields as she passed the border marker and made her way toward Avon's commons. Her gaze would search the field, ears pressed forward as she listened for the sounds of tumbling newborns.

She had a gift for them ... for in her scruff were freshly woven with shiny, black raven feathers. One for each of her grandchildren.
]]> <![CDATA[We're invincible]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7931 Wed, 04 Jun 2025 13:38:06 -0400 Ksyusha]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7931
For , , , , éabha is set to be swooped

The other day Fiadh had scared off a biiiig bird that was trying to get too close, or was it last week? Longer? Ksyusha had no sense of time, she may never gain a sense of time, but she knew it happened! The six of them have been told to stay in eyesight of the den, and while mammy's eyes were sharp and that leash she had on them was loose...

It's not like they can be in any real danger, right? They've touched the rock before leaving, Fiadh's on her perch on top of the den to get a better view of the lands, nothing can touch these pups except eachother.

So with their boundaries set, Ksyusha ran with a high pitched giggle. Can't catch me!! She called out to her siblings, though if they joined in on her antics or not was up to them.]]>
For , , , , éabha is set to be swooped

The other day Fiadh had scared off a biiiig bird that was trying to get too close, or was it last week? Longer? Ksyusha had no sense of time, she may never gain a sense of time, but she knew it happened! The six of them have been told to stay in eyesight of the den, and while mammy's eyes were sharp and that leash she had on them was loose...

It's not like they can be in any real danger, right? They've touched the rock before leaving, Fiadh's on her perch on top of the den to get a better view of the lands, nothing can touch these pups except eachother.

So with their boundaries set, Ksyusha ran with a high pitched giggle. Can't catch me!! She called out to her siblings, though if they joined in on her antics or not was up to them.]]> <![CDATA[The Rescuers Down Under]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7927 Tue, 03 Jun 2025 20:56:58 -0400 N​ó​ttin]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7927

Guilt riddled him to the bone. It shouldn't have taken him this long to speak of this. But how on earth was he supposed to talk of such things, when a plague had hit their world? When would have been the opportune time? The young Pillar had finally decided to bite the bullet, and let his sister at least know of what had happened back at the tournament.

It was life or death at this point, and he was not about to fail an old friend.So it was time to face the music, and prey to the gods. N​ó​ttin called for Sólúlfur, his voice laced with concern and urgency. There was no time to waste. Her brother waited for her at his den, closer to the inner parts of the territory, and to the glacier that had started to melt again.

Thoughts of Freya ran through his mind wondering when she was going to make her escape and when she would be coming up north. That was if she lived long enough to make it that far. From the sounds of things, she was scared for her life, and for her children. What had they done to her? It had kept him awake at night, horrible nightmares threatening to break him. What if he couldn't help her in the long run? What if he couldn't keep his promise? No, that couldn't happen.

There had to be a way to reach her before it was too late. But with everyone stretched so thin finding runes, he wasn't so sure that a full scale rescue mission was possible right now. Would he have to do this on his own? it was hard to not let the thousands of thoughts and possibilities run through his mind. Now all N​ó​ttin could do was wait. Wait and feel utterly helpless. And just hope that Sol would have the answers he was looking for.]]>

Guilt riddled him to the bone. It shouldn't have taken him this long to speak of this. But how on earth was he supposed to talk of such things, when a plague had hit their world? When would have been the opportune time? The young Pillar had finally decided to bite the bullet, and let his sister at least know of what had happened back at the tournament.

It was life or death at this point, and he was not about to fail an old friend.So it was time to face the music, and prey to the gods. N​ó​ttin called for Sólúlfur, his voice laced with concern and urgency. There was no time to waste. Her brother waited for her at his den, closer to the inner parts of the territory, and to the glacier that had started to melt again.

Thoughts of Freya ran through his mind wondering when she was going to make her escape and when she would be coming up north. That was if she lived long enough to make it that far. From the sounds of things, she was scared for her life, and for her children. What had they done to her? It had kept him awake at night, horrible nightmares threatening to break him. What if he couldn't help her in the long run? What if he couldn't keep his promise? No, that couldn't happen.

There had to be a way to reach her before it was too late. But with everyone stretched so thin finding runes, he wasn't so sure that a full scale rescue mission was possible right now. Would he have to do this on his own? it was hard to not let the thousands of thoughts and possibilities run through his mind. Now all N​ó​ttin could do was wait. Wait and feel utterly helpless. And just hope that Sol would have the answers he was looking for.]]> <![CDATA[it doesn't hurt me]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7920 Tue, 03 Jun 2025 16:34:57 -0400 Hilde]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7920 Skill: Guardian [1/5]
Hilde had always been a skeptic. She never believed in magic, in fate... nothing of the sort. At least, not in Kaldrvegr. Such voodoo-hoodoo had always earned nothing but a scoff from her, perhaps even a jeer if she was in a particularly nasty mood.

Things have changed; that much was obvious. had never left. He'd been taken— and now, she was here, too. Since that day, she'd spent plenty of hours pacing these strange lands, constantly fighting to understand, to think of some reason why this happened, or, better yet, how. There was no single logical explanation that would ever soundly elucidate how on god's green earth she ended up here. How Vidarr ended up here.

It was all bad enough as it was, yet now Vidarr and his packmates had begun to speak of strange runes. A rock had an interesting pattern on it—so what? The woman avidly refused to ever heed anyone's attempts to explain that this phenomenon was important. It was a 'heap of caribou shit' as she worded it.

The night was cold, despite the near arrival of summer. Hilde was cranky—even more so than usual. All she wanted was sleep.

But even that was interrupted.

The stranger spoke in a tongue she hadn't ever even fathomed existed, and yet, each word harbored as much meaning as a native language would. Hilde gasped awake with muscles tense, eyes wide with fear—no. Not fear, never fear. She was simply startled.

Hilde walked past Vidarr with silent paces, slipping out from their den with a drawn-out sigh. 'Investigate the broken edge.' Her teeth gritted in frustration as she recalled the words that odd voice had said. 'It is the hunger.' If this goddamn little dream-creature wanted her to investigate something, why did they have to be so goddamn... confusing about it? She stomped through the forest with a grumble rolling deep in her throat.

You want your damn runes, she growled. I'll find your damned runes. Hilde trekked up the ridges, her sights set towards the fields which stretched far beyond the Vale.
]]> Skill: Guardian [1/5]
Hilde had always been a skeptic. She never believed in magic, in fate... nothing of the sort. At least, not in Kaldrvegr. Such voodoo-hoodoo had always earned nothing but a scoff from her, perhaps even a jeer if she was in a particularly nasty mood.

Things have changed; that much was obvious. had never left. He'd been taken— and now, she was here, too. Since that day, she'd spent plenty of hours pacing these strange lands, constantly fighting to understand, to think of some reason why this happened, or, better yet, how. There was no single logical explanation that would ever soundly elucidate how on god's green earth she ended up here. How Vidarr ended up here.

It was all bad enough as it was, yet now Vidarr and his packmates had begun to speak of strange runes. A rock had an interesting pattern on it—so what? The woman avidly refused to ever heed anyone's attempts to explain that this phenomenon was important. It was a 'heap of caribou shit' as she worded it.

The night was cold, despite the near arrival of summer. Hilde was cranky—even more so than usual. All she wanted was sleep.

But even that was interrupted.

The stranger spoke in a tongue she hadn't ever even fathomed existed, and yet, each word harbored as much meaning as a native language would. Hilde gasped awake with muscles tense, eyes wide with fear—no. Not fear, never fear. She was simply startled.

Hilde walked past Vidarr with silent paces, slipping out from their den with a drawn-out sigh. 'Investigate the broken edge.' Her teeth gritted in frustration as she recalled the words that odd voice had said. 'It is the hunger.' If this goddamn little dream-creature wanted her to investigate something, why did they have to be so goddamn... confusing about it? She stomped through the forest with a grumble rolling deep in her throat.

You want your damn runes, she growled. I'll find your damned runes. Hilde trekked up the ridges, her sights set towards the fields which stretched far beyond the Vale.
]]> <![CDATA[if i'm made up of molecules]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7913 Tue, 03 Jun 2025 10:28:09 -0400 Dalmatia]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7913
skill: ranger

The day spent by the river with her fiancé had been nice despite the reason they'd left the Vale. The newly engaged lovers had left for the search of runes and seeking out of Northfall to see how they fared, if the plague had affected them in any way that Dawnbreak could prevent from happening to their own. Thankfully, from what they could tell from their mountain and the view from the river, purple snow had yet to move, keeping its distance from the Vikings' reprieve. Soon enough, Dalmatia and N​ó​ttin would scale the summits to reach the destination, but for now, they were allowed to rest and explore the river area.

Dal found herself trailing alongside the river, a main source of livelihood due to the far north's unfortunate spreading of noxious territories. Various cervine creatures trod in herds, huddling closer towards the west, not too worried about a lone wolf (who herself was cloaked in their own kind's pelt); she wondered if they even understood that she wasn't part of their own kind. Nonetheless, she stayed cautious, her ears on the swivel and eyes having constant trouble focusing on one area for too long.

Periwinkle eyes glittered, they were not only pivoting around to stay alert, but also for anything that stood out to her — anything at all that seemed "magical". In reality, it made her stop every so often, sniffing at an oddly shaped rock or scratched up tree that could be perceived as mystic writing... Maybe, if you turned your head and squinted properly at it. Which is what caught her up in the current moment, standing a few tail lengths away from a tall alpine tree, its bark scratched with marks — bear clawings or maybe supernatural? She couldn't tell. She turned her head sideways towards the right this time, wondering if, at this angle, she would be able to understand it.



it is assumed is somewhere nearby
]]>
skill: ranger

The day spent by the river with her fiancé had been nice despite the reason they'd left the Vale. The newly engaged lovers had left for the search of runes and seeking out of Northfall to see how they fared, if the plague had affected them in any way that Dawnbreak could prevent from happening to their own. Thankfully, from what they could tell from their mountain and the view from the river, purple snow had yet to move, keeping its distance from the Vikings' reprieve. Soon enough, Dalmatia and N​ó​ttin would scale the summits to reach the destination, but for now, they were allowed to rest and explore the river area.

Dal found herself trailing alongside the river, a main source of livelihood due to the far north's unfortunate spreading of noxious territories. Various cervine creatures trod in herds, huddling closer towards the west, not too worried about a lone wolf (who herself was cloaked in their own kind's pelt); she wondered if they even understood that she wasn't part of their own kind. Nonetheless, she stayed cautious, her ears on the swivel and eyes having constant trouble focusing on one area for too long.

Periwinkle eyes glittered, they were not only pivoting around to stay alert, but also for anything that stood out to her — anything at all that seemed "magical". In reality, it made her stop every so often, sniffing at an oddly shaped rock or scratched up tree that could be perceived as mystic writing... Maybe, if you turned your head and squinted properly at it. Which is what caught her up in the current moment, standing a few tail lengths away from a tall alpine tree, its bark scratched with marks — bear clawings or maybe supernatural? She couldn't tell. She turned her head sideways towards the right this time, wondering if, at this angle, she would be able to understand it.



it is assumed is somewhere nearby
]]> <![CDATA[Hotter than Satan's house cat]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7912 Tue, 03 Jun 2025 01:03:31 -0400 Shiloh]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7912 [Image: shybadge.png]
SKILL : - - - ( 1 / 5 )
Set immediately after this thread

As Shiloh led the procession of two along, he scoured the area for signs of "seven."

He pried at the dimming world's offerings with scrutiny, counting clumps of tree, flower blooms, and even rocks spaced suspiciously close. When he found small collections that seemed promising, he stopped to investigate - watching, waiting, listening for any change at all.

The knight was uncertain what he was looking for exactly, he knew only that the voice spurred them forward in pursuit of whatever lay ahead. It could be seven harbingers of death for all he knew, but he resisted the temptation to rebuke the voice's orders and instead indulged it.

After all, this made the second time the voice spoke to him - first on the Summit, along with the others, and now here. How many times could he smother down his disbelief when evidence continued to mount?

A frown creased his muzzle as he stooped to investigate another dubious cluster of rocks.

Ye see anythin' out o' place yet? Shiloh asked Lugh, yet not looking in his direction as he cleared the patch of rockwork. Fable an' mathair are better at this stuff.

They saw the patterns others didn't, intricate details hewn from nature for those with the eye for it. His expertise lay in matters of survival and control - the sort of things that aided him on the battlefield, but made him less suited for tracking down spiritual aspects such as runes.
]]> [Image: shybadge.png]
SKILL : - - - ( 1 / 5 )
Set immediately after this thread

As Shiloh led the procession of two along, he scoured the area for signs of "seven."

He pried at the dimming world's offerings with scrutiny, counting clumps of tree, flower blooms, and even rocks spaced suspiciously close. When he found small collections that seemed promising, he stopped to investigate - watching, waiting, listening for any change at all.

The knight was uncertain what he was looking for exactly, he knew only that the voice spurred them forward in pursuit of whatever lay ahead. It could be seven harbingers of death for all he knew, but he resisted the temptation to rebuke the voice's orders and instead indulged it.

After all, this made the second time the voice spoke to him - first on the Summit, along with the others, and now here. How many times could he smother down his disbelief when evidence continued to mount?

A frown creased his muzzle as he stooped to investigate another dubious cluster of rocks.

Ye see anythin' out o' place yet? Shiloh asked Lugh, yet not looking in his direction as he cleared the patch of rockwork. Fable an' mathair are better at this stuff.

They saw the patterns others didn't, intricate details hewn from nature for those with the eye for it. His expertise lay in matters of survival and control - the sort of things that aided him on the battlefield, but made him less suited for tracking down spiritual aspects such as runes.
]]> <![CDATA[[BWP - Mass Dream] Forbidden knowledge]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7911 Tue, 03 Jun 2025 00:41:43 -0400 narrator]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7911
Story Unlocked, Part Two : 「 The First Sin 」 

All creatures of Mythris experience this dream.

Those who were not involved IC before will likely be confused or frightened, as they were not aware of anything regarding the situation prior.

You close your eyes and once again feel as though you're falling. This time you know what to expect, and you do not panic - instead, you're better able to control it, floating down, down toward the surface, almost trance-like...

Shiellekigate dre loken etse, the voice says, startling you out of your reverie. You do as you are instructed, and your vision seems to pan and focus toward the eastern half of the continent.

In the aftermath of the Great Rift, creatures of every species weep near the world's edge. It is the scene of a tragedy. Those who had been unfortunate enough to fall into the chasm of the divide as it tore apart now lay at the bottom of the sea, while many more had remained trapped on Mythris' other half - forced to watch their loved ones as they drifted away into the unknown, forever lost to those left behind.

Against the sound of profound sorrow, a small group seems to be investigating further down the sheer cliffside. No one else dared venture this far, whether from fear or despair or disinterest - for what else lay at the bottom but death? - yet it is this pack of wolves, you see them much clearer now, who are willing to risk life and limb to climb carefully down toward something mysterious. Something new.

Cerulean blue.

It was unlike anything they had ever seen before.

Hundreds of glittering azure veins were threaded throughout the very bedrock of the continent, pulsing with energy and a strange power.

The wolves' expressions change from intrigue to desire.

A single wolf reaches out to touch it, and suddenly the vision explodes in a bright light as something almost electric surrounds the rest of the pack, and their eyes begin to glow a faint blue.

Ut sepal dre kindir, the voice whispers, and you watch helplessly as the vision disappears.

The hunger? You try to ask, but the stranger has already been weakened, and no answer is made back.

You wake with a start, and this time the plague has not spread - but somehow, you find the lack of activity even more unnerving.

You must continue to search.


]]>
Story Unlocked, Part Two : 「 The First Sin 」 

All creatures of Mythris experience this dream.

Those who were not involved IC before will likely be confused or frightened, as they were not aware of anything regarding the situation prior.

You close your eyes and once again feel as though you're falling. This time you know what to expect, and you do not panic - instead, you're better able to control it, floating down, down toward the surface, almost trance-like...

Shiellekigate dre loken etse, the voice says, startling you out of your reverie. You do as you are instructed, and your vision seems to pan and focus toward the eastern half of the continent.

In the aftermath of the Great Rift, creatures of every species weep near the world's edge. It is the scene of a tragedy. Those who had been unfortunate enough to fall into the chasm of the divide as it tore apart now lay at the bottom of the sea, while many more had remained trapped on Mythris' other half - forced to watch their loved ones as they drifted away into the unknown, forever lost to those left behind.

Against the sound of profound sorrow, a small group seems to be investigating further down the sheer cliffside. No one else dared venture this far, whether from fear or despair or disinterest - for what else lay at the bottom but death? - yet it is this pack of wolves, you see them much clearer now, who are willing to risk life and limb to climb carefully down toward something mysterious. Something new.

Cerulean blue.

It was unlike anything they had ever seen before.

Hundreds of glittering azure veins were threaded throughout the very bedrock of the continent, pulsing with energy and a strange power.

The wolves' expressions change from intrigue to desire.

A single wolf reaches out to touch it, and suddenly the vision explodes in a bright light as something almost electric surrounds the rest of the pack, and their eyes begin to glow a faint blue.

Ut sepal dre kindir, the voice whispers, and you watch helplessly as the vision disappears.

The hunger? You try to ask, but the stranger has already been weakened, and no answer is made back.

You wake with a start, and this time the plague has not spread - but somehow, you find the lack of activity even more unnerving.

You must continue to search.


]]> <![CDATA[this is what you asked for, heavy is the crown]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7906 Mon, 02 Jun 2025 19:49:07 -0400 Nausicaa]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7906
That fire, it had been growing, and growing, and growing until she could no longer pretend it wasn’t there. That awful seething rage that drove her to Avon’s edges out of fear she’d say something she didn’t mean again. It was like some awful shadow had control of her mouth, and she could only sit back and watch, helpless. She didn’t know what was wrong with her, only it was a fire she couldn’t staunch. So, she just held her sword close to her hand, and played the part of wandering knight.

It was a warm day for winter. The borders held her smell intertwined with the others’, every tree holding a piece of her scruff. Her legs stung with every motion, but even as the sky turned rosy hues, she couldn’t turn back yet. The shadow currently holding her tongue hadn’t tired out yet, and she knew from experience it wouldn’t until the moon was well in the sky. Nausicaa was tired. Bags lined the corners of her eyes, and her mouth was constantly in a thin-lined frown. Every motion reminded her she wasn’t at her best.

Maybe that’s what caused her to go after it.

The acrid scent of a bear. A massive sow, shambling through the tundra. It was too early for her to be awake, and she seemed to know it. But it didn’t stop her from making a beeline for her feeding grounds, and if that meant she could go straight through a wolf territory, she didn’t seem to care. But, as it was, Nausicaa did. Tired, squinted eyes caught the shape as she trundled along, without a care in the world.

Was that what ignited the beast?

She wouldn’t recall this later, as that shadow, that fire of rage, whatever it was drove her from her crouched position in the grasses into a flat run after the bear. The sow didn’t know what was coming, and her roar shattered the evening calm. Victory tasted like bear blood, as the adolescent drove her teeth into what she could reach of the bear’s haunch. The fire was gleeful, satisfaction radiating from her as she held on harder. The sow swiped at her, but she giddily moved out of the way. Maybe she would drive it out on her own? Oh, that would be a sight, would it? Returning home to tell her family she’d fought off a bear alone. Maybe she’d exaggerate a little, tell them it was bigger than it was. That she stabbed it in the heart with her sword. Then ate it.

Maybe, in the end, fantasy did her in.

A line of fire exploded down her face, catching her first above her eye, skipping over her brow bone, then down her muzzle. Nausicaa shrieked a noise, releasing the bear and shaking her head back and forth. Pain wasn’t new, but this pain was. Blood welled easy from the facial wound, and she found herself half blind and unable to catch anything else. She stumbled around for a moment, trying without success to catch sight of her quarry.

Pain. It caught her on her side, then screamed through her tail as she was wrenched from the solid ground beneath her. Vaguely, in some place far away from here, she recognized the claws caught in her tail was all she was hanging by. And the ripping sensation of muscle unbinding from skin and bone, tendons snapping, that was the result of her being thrown from the sharpened claws of the bear. Her shoulders ached when she hit the ground, but that was nothing compared to the screaming agony that her back half had become. Nausicaa retched, coughing and spitting up bile. Her muscles were trembly, and one of her legs didn’t want to work. Her tail felt funny when she tried to stand, but it couldn’t be that bad right? Slowly, she turned her head, looking with her one able eye.

It hung on by mere scraps. Great flaps of skin were hanging loose around viscous, wet muscle, which she could see throbbing with her heartbeat. Shreds of viscera drooled down towards the ground, as gravity pulled at it. There was the flash of blood-splattered bone from somewhere in the pulsing meat. Rope like tendons hung loose around the sections of her tailbone, rising from the sloughing skin. She could reach back herself and just..nip it free. Her teeth itched to do that suddenly.

But she couldn’t. She just stared at the remnants of her tail, breathing hard and heavy.

Should she sit down? Or should she try and staunch the bleeding? Everything was escaping her but the sight in front of her.]]>
That fire, it had been growing, and growing, and growing until she could no longer pretend it wasn’t there. That awful seething rage that drove her to Avon’s edges out of fear she’d say something she didn’t mean again. It was like some awful shadow had control of her mouth, and she could only sit back and watch, helpless. She didn’t know what was wrong with her, only it was a fire she couldn’t staunch. So, she just held her sword close to her hand, and played the part of wandering knight.

It was a warm day for winter. The borders held her smell intertwined with the others’, every tree holding a piece of her scruff. Her legs stung with every motion, but even as the sky turned rosy hues, she couldn’t turn back yet. The shadow currently holding her tongue hadn’t tired out yet, and she knew from experience it wouldn’t until the moon was well in the sky. Nausicaa was tired. Bags lined the corners of her eyes, and her mouth was constantly in a thin-lined frown. Every motion reminded her she wasn’t at her best.

Maybe that’s what caused her to go after it.

The acrid scent of a bear. A massive sow, shambling through the tundra. It was too early for her to be awake, and she seemed to know it. But it didn’t stop her from making a beeline for her feeding grounds, and if that meant she could go straight through a wolf territory, she didn’t seem to care. But, as it was, Nausicaa did. Tired, squinted eyes caught the shape as she trundled along, without a care in the world.

Was that what ignited the beast?

She wouldn’t recall this later, as that shadow, that fire of rage, whatever it was drove her from her crouched position in the grasses into a flat run after the bear. The sow didn’t know what was coming, and her roar shattered the evening calm. Victory tasted like bear blood, as the adolescent drove her teeth into what she could reach of the bear’s haunch. The fire was gleeful, satisfaction radiating from her as she held on harder. The sow swiped at her, but she giddily moved out of the way. Maybe she would drive it out on her own? Oh, that would be a sight, would it? Returning home to tell her family she’d fought off a bear alone. Maybe she’d exaggerate a little, tell them it was bigger than it was. That she stabbed it in the heart with her sword. Then ate it.

Maybe, in the end, fantasy did her in.

A line of fire exploded down her face, catching her first above her eye, skipping over her brow bone, then down her muzzle. Nausicaa shrieked a noise, releasing the bear and shaking her head back and forth. Pain wasn’t new, but this pain was. Blood welled easy from the facial wound, and she found herself half blind and unable to catch anything else. She stumbled around for a moment, trying without success to catch sight of her quarry.

Pain. It caught her on her side, then screamed through her tail as she was wrenched from the solid ground beneath her. Vaguely, in some place far away from here, she recognized the claws caught in her tail was all she was hanging by. And the ripping sensation of muscle unbinding from skin and bone, tendons snapping, that was the result of her being thrown from the sharpened claws of the bear. Her shoulders ached when she hit the ground, but that was nothing compared to the screaming agony that her back half had become. Nausicaa retched, coughing and spitting up bile. Her muscles were trembly, and one of her legs didn’t want to work. Her tail felt funny when she tried to stand, but it couldn’t be that bad right? Slowly, she turned her head, looking with her one able eye.

It hung on by mere scraps. Great flaps of skin were hanging loose around viscous, wet muscle, which she could see throbbing with her heartbeat. Shreds of viscera drooled down towards the ground, as gravity pulled at it. There was the flash of blood-splattered bone from somewhere in the pulsing meat. Rope like tendons hung loose around the sections of her tailbone, rising from the sloughing skin. She could reach back herself and just..nip it free. Her teeth itched to do that suddenly.

But she couldn’t. She just stared at the remnants of her tail, breathing hard and heavy.

Should she sit down? Or should she try and staunch the bleeding? Everything was escaping her but the sight in front of her.]]> <![CDATA[I don't wanna leave you here tonight]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7903 Mon, 02 Jun 2025 17:21:04 -0400 Pluto]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7903 He'd decided to head west, avoid the plagued snow, but nonetheless wanted to make sure there was no sign of Persephone here in the frozen north before moving on. There had been no sign in the forest along the coast, and while he hadn't gone out to the island beyond, it was populated with other scents -- none of which belonged to his other half. Going any further north was largely out of the question, though he'd followed the coast for a while before heading back this way. Part of him wanted to send Ember out to scout for him, but it wasn't worth the risk of him getting caught alone, getting hurt in poisoned lands.
And the plague seemed to have spread. Hades grumbled at its inconvenience, but hoped Persephone hadn't gotten caught in the middle of it and carried on until he had a better plan. Maybe a way to infiltrate was possible, and he only had to find it?
Did he dare try?
He was headed for the other coast, and then the mountain nearby, if he hadn't found sign of her. Then, from there, he hoped he could get a better lay of the land, see if anything lay beyond.
The dark deity wouldn't need to go that far.

It was only a hint of a scent that caught his attention that night, stopping with his brow furrowing to sniff a tree he thought he'd smelled it from. No -- the breeze hit him in the face and carried it again, a strange, familiar, but wrong smell, one that drew him in but he couldn't quite place. It was hard to follow, and Hades had circled the area several times before it started to nag at him. He sent Ember up, and after a few minutes, his twitter pulled Hades in a definitive direction.

He galloped through the snow for all he was worth, sure he knew the smell -- he had helped create it.
Dread filled him.
He did know that scent, warped as it was.
He didn't want to.
Don't be her.
The blanket of fire and cream, in all its silky glory.... was all too familiar. Hades' breath hitched in his throat, and he sped forward with tears budding in his amber eyes; she's just sleeping. She's just sleeping. She's just sleeping.

My sweet asphodel, he called, voice breaking, heart sinking. She didn't move.

He slowed, panting, as he drew near. It was her -- he recognized her, this form, had no shadow of a doubt this was Persephone even clad in the shadows of the night. His heart shattered against his ribcage, leaving behind a raw, gaping hole where her love belonged.

Please, he begged, merely a whisper, and drew around her side to see her face. She was not curled, sleeping peacefully; her paws were the brown of dried, old blood, and she was jilted against a shoulder as if --his breath hitched-- as if she'd fallen. Something had been wrong, she'd needed help! And where had he been?
Arguing with that worthless shit-stain of a little brother.
Reasoning with Zeus to send him to find her.
He would fucking kill Zeus if he ever returned. If the spoiled cunt was smart, he'd find a way to keep Hades from coming back -- he would topple Olympus for this, he would steal the crown of the king of kings just to crush it beneath his foot.
Hades buckled before her, crumbling inside and out, flopping gracelessly into the snow. Tears began to slide from his eyes. He dragged himself forward, heaving for each deep, borderline-panic breath, and used his two massive forepaws to cradle her head gently. He leaned his dark head over her, covering her, inhaling what so very little of her scent seemed to be clinging to the frozen corpse.

He had failed her.

Where would her soul go from this strange world, where not even Zeus himself could reach? Had Thanatos managed to greet her, ferry her soul to safety? Would she find a form once again, here or there? None of the rules he knew to be true could be counted on here, but what he most feared was that she had been snuffed out, a brilliant light that would never again find the chance to shine.
What was he supposed to do now? Find a way back, he supposed, but he didn't have the faintest idea how to do that, lucky for Olympus. Poseidon had mentioned others being gone, too -- Hades didn't know who to look for, but perhaps a search for other deities was the start of their return? Together, they were always more.
He didn't know what came next. Frankly, he didn't care; he lay draped over Persephone, aching at the coldness, the lack of reaction, as if he thought his warmth might rouse her.

Eventually, once he had sobbed himself hoarse and lifted his head from her nape, he noticed the... sludge on her other side, though he didn't know what to make of it. He was careful not to touch it, as much as it hurt his heart to leave her soiled; assuming it was part of the plague, and part of whatever killed her if not the very reason. He sat up and sniffled, shoulders hunched, and jumped when Ember fluttered to the ground beside him. At Persephone's paws, he lay a single yellow arctic poppy.

I'm sorry, he rumbled to her, voice pitched and crackling, Please, Seph. Please come back. I need you.

This couldn't be it.

Hades and Ember sat in silence for a long, long time, and eventually, the lupine straightened and sighed.

I cannot leave her like this.

He looked to Ember.

Show me where you got the flower.

It enjoyed stony ground. He couldn't burn Persephone or send her off in any special way without thumbs, but he could put in the effort for a nice cairn, at least. A medieval thing, he thought, but respectful. Better than leaving her here, like this, to be forever preserved in the moment of her end or eventually scavenged.

He would follow the screech to the area and, stone by stone, carried them back to Persephone. After the first trip he left the bird to guard her, just in case his activity in the area brought along any unwanted attention -- but Hades got a quiet night in which to work. He was further heartbroken to realize he couldn't fix her into a better position.... but again, at least she would be covered, able to rest.

Hades stayed long after he was done. Dawn came and went, the day passed, perhaps even two; he wasn't sure if he slept or not, but Ember fluttered off at some point for a little while once or twice. The sun had sank again at least once by the time he'd even bothered to rouse himself and look around. It didn't seem to matter, nothing seemed to have changed. He felt hollow. He'd expected more of a search, sure, but he'd also hoped so damn hard that she would be okay. It was so hard for a god, even a godling, to be killed -- what terrible place had they entered that a strong soul like his Persephone could be taken?

~

It was the third night (he still wasn't sure how long it'd been) when he finally stood, the ache in his stomach no longer sated by chewing on snow and the bits of rodent Ember kept seeming to drop in front of him. His limbs trembled as he hauled himself from the ground, but he couldn't tell if it was grief or exhaustion. A light dusting of snow fell from him as he shook out the stiffness; when had it even snowed?

He loped off, intending to find something to eat and return.

He wasn't sure where he could manage to hide himself among all the snow, but he supposed he could use a tree for cover and hope something wandered by, too. The tall, lanky brute paused in the middle of the meadow, frowning, unsure and uncomfortable. He didn't like hunting with his mouth on the best of days, and now... well, he barely wanted to go on. What in the world would even look appetizing?

Hades just stared blankly over the tundra, only half-heartedly looking and not bothering to scent. ]]> He'd decided to head west, avoid the plagued snow, but nonetheless wanted to make sure there was no sign of Persephone here in the frozen north before moving on. There had been no sign in the forest along the coast, and while he hadn't gone out to the island beyond, it was populated with other scents -- none of which belonged to his other half. Going any further north was largely out of the question, though he'd followed the coast for a while before heading back this way. Part of him wanted to send Ember out to scout for him, but it wasn't worth the risk of him getting caught alone, getting hurt in poisoned lands.
And the plague seemed to have spread. Hades grumbled at its inconvenience, but hoped Persephone hadn't gotten caught in the middle of it and carried on until he had a better plan. Maybe a way to infiltrate was possible, and he only had to find it?
Did he dare try?
He was headed for the other coast, and then the mountain nearby, if he hadn't found sign of her. Then, from there, he hoped he could get a better lay of the land, see if anything lay beyond.
The dark deity wouldn't need to go that far.

It was only a hint of a scent that caught his attention that night, stopping with his brow furrowing to sniff a tree he thought he'd smelled it from. No -- the breeze hit him in the face and carried it again, a strange, familiar, but wrong smell, one that drew him in but he couldn't quite place. It was hard to follow, and Hades had circled the area several times before it started to nag at him. He sent Ember up, and after a few minutes, his twitter pulled Hades in a definitive direction.

He galloped through the snow for all he was worth, sure he knew the smell -- he had helped create it.
Dread filled him.
He did know that scent, warped as it was.
He didn't want to.
Don't be her.
The blanket of fire and cream, in all its silky glory.... was all too familiar. Hades' breath hitched in his throat, and he sped forward with tears budding in his amber eyes; she's just sleeping. She's just sleeping. She's just sleeping.

My sweet asphodel, he called, voice breaking, heart sinking. She didn't move.

He slowed, panting, as he drew near. It was her -- he recognized her, this form, had no shadow of a doubt this was Persephone even clad in the shadows of the night. His heart shattered against his ribcage, leaving behind a raw, gaping hole where her love belonged.

Please, he begged, merely a whisper, and drew around her side to see her face. She was not curled, sleeping peacefully; her paws were the brown of dried, old blood, and she was jilted against a shoulder as if --his breath hitched-- as if she'd fallen. Something had been wrong, she'd needed help! And where had he been?
Arguing with that worthless shit-stain of a little brother.
Reasoning with Zeus to send him to find her.
He would fucking kill Zeus if he ever returned. If the spoiled cunt was smart, he'd find a way to keep Hades from coming back -- he would topple Olympus for this, he would steal the crown of the king of kings just to crush it beneath his foot.
Hades buckled before her, crumbling inside and out, flopping gracelessly into the snow. Tears began to slide from his eyes. He dragged himself forward, heaving for each deep, borderline-panic breath, and used his two massive forepaws to cradle her head gently. He leaned his dark head over her, covering her, inhaling what so very little of her scent seemed to be clinging to the frozen corpse.

He had failed her.

Where would her soul go from this strange world, where not even Zeus himself could reach? Had Thanatos managed to greet her, ferry her soul to safety? Would she find a form once again, here or there? None of the rules he knew to be true could be counted on here, but what he most feared was that she had been snuffed out, a brilliant light that would never again find the chance to shine.
What was he supposed to do now? Find a way back, he supposed, but he didn't have the faintest idea how to do that, lucky for Olympus. Poseidon had mentioned others being gone, too -- Hades didn't know who to look for, but perhaps a search for other deities was the start of their return? Together, they were always more.
He didn't know what came next. Frankly, he didn't care; he lay draped over Persephone, aching at the coldness, the lack of reaction, as if he thought his warmth might rouse her.

Eventually, once he had sobbed himself hoarse and lifted his head from her nape, he noticed the... sludge on her other side, though he didn't know what to make of it. He was careful not to touch it, as much as it hurt his heart to leave her soiled; assuming it was part of the plague, and part of whatever killed her if not the very reason. He sat up and sniffled, shoulders hunched, and jumped when Ember fluttered to the ground beside him. At Persephone's paws, he lay a single yellow arctic poppy.

I'm sorry, he rumbled to her, voice pitched and crackling, Please, Seph. Please come back. I need you.

This couldn't be it.

Hades and Ember sat in silence for a long, long time, and eventually, the lupine straightened and sighed.

I cannot leave her like this.

He looked to Ember.

Show me where you got the flower.

It enjoyed stony ground. He couldn't burn Persephone or send her off in any special way without thumbs, but he could put in the effort for a nice cairn, at least. A medieval thing, he thought, but respectful. Better than leaving her here, like this, to be forever preserved in the moment of her end or eventually scavenged.

He would follow the screech to the area and, stone by stone, carried them back to Persephone. After the first trip he left the bird to guard her, just in case his activity in the area brought along any unwanted attention -- but Hades got a quiet night in which to work. He was further heartbroken to realize he couldn't fix her into a better position.... but again, at least she would be covered, able to rest.

Hades stayed long after he was done. Dawn came and went, the day passed, perhaps even two; he wasn't sure if he slept or not, but Ember fluttered off at some point for a little while once or twice. The sun had sank again at least once by the time he'd even bothered to rouse himself and look around. It didn't seem to matter, nothing seemed to have changed. He felt hollow. He'd expected more of a search, sure, but he'd also hoped so damn hard that she would be okay. It was so hard for a god, even a godling, to be killed -- what terrible place had they entered that a strong soul like his Persephone could be taken?

~

It was the third night (he still wasn't sure how long it'd been) when he finally stood, the ache in his stomach no longer sated by chewing on snow and the bits of rodent Ember kept seeming to drop in front of him. His limbs trembled as he hauled himself from the ground, but he couldn't tell if it was grief or exhaustion. A light dusting of snow fell from him as he shook out the stiffness; when had it even snowed?

He loped off, intending to find something to eat and return.

He wasn't sure where he could manage to hide himself among all the snow, but he supposed he could use a tree for cover and hope something wandered by, too. The tall, lanky brute paused in the middle of the meadow, frowning, unsure and uncomfortable. He didn't like hunting with his mouth on the best of days, and now... well, he barely wanted to go on. What in the world would even look appetizing?

Hades just stared blankly over the tundra, only half-heartedly looking and not bothering to scent. ]]> <![CDATA[to reaffirm my importance in the grand scheme]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7899 Mon, 02 Jun 2025 13:13:59 -0400 Dalmatia]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7899
set before dal x n​ó​ttin left for northfall.

It was a rather pleasant day in the Vale, the sunny sky overhead with no chance of rain or overcast, life bustling within the safe corridors of the mountains. Yet, since the meeting had passed, Tibbi passed information about the plague towards the further North and about "runes". It created a high-strung tension around the Vale. How long would they have until the purple snow peaked over the safeguard of their mountains? Nonetheless, it didn't stop the spotted dove from giving up hope. She stood as bravely as she could and tried to accept the fact that all she would have to leave the safety of her home if she wanted to help.

Joy was a mix among the emotions, as only a little while ago did proposed to her, promising her a lifetime of happiness, children, and an everlasting love that went beyond what they could even comprehend — a love that would land them in the stars. The wedding would have to wait, she knew, until this mess was over. Their lives would be put on pause for the good of Dawnbreak.

There had only been quiet whispers of the two lovers about their own engagement, but the secret could only be kept for so long (and it wasn't like she was trying to hide that she'd been happier than she had been in forever). The afternoon sun hung overhead as Dal called softly for , a melody of a summons, hoping that they could walk and talk with each other. Somewhere nearby, she knew her fiancé loomed, his presence being summoned by her earlier in the day, asking him to come with her on their walk — maybe even see if the three of them could sift through the inner workings of the Vale, trying to detect the magical presence of the runes.

]]>
set before dal x n​ó​ttin left for northfall.

It was a rather pleasant day in the Vale, the sunny sky overhead with no chance of rain or overcast, life bustling within the safe corridors of the mountains. Yet, since the meeting had passed, Tibbi passed information about the plague towards the further North and about "runes". It created a high-strung tension around the Vale. How long would they have until the purple snow peaked over the safeguard of their mountains? Nonetheless, it didn't stop the spotted dove from giving up hope. She stood as bravely as she could and tried to accept the fact that all she would have to leave the safety of her home if she wanted to help.

Joy was a mix among the emotions, as only a little while ago did proposed to her, promising her a lifetime of happiness, children, and an everlasting love that went beyond what they could even comprehend — a love that would land them in the stars. The wedding would have to wait, she knew, until this mess was over. Their lives would be put on pause for the good of Dawnbreak.

There had only been quiet whispers of the two lovers about their own engagement, but the secret could only be kept for so long (and it wasn't like she was trying to hide that she'd been happier than she had been in forever). The afternoon sun hung overhead as Dal called softly for , a melody of a summons, hoping that they could walk and talk with each other. Somewhere nearby, she knew her fiancé loomed, his presence being summoned by her earlier in the day, asking him to come with her on their walk — maybe even see if the three of them could sift through the inner workings of the Vale, trying to detect the magical presence of the runes.

]]> <![CDATA[offering]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7891 Sat, 31 May 2025 23:14:38 -0400 Teyani ]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7891
aw
She was one of the forgotten. A sielka'rin, nothing more, nothing less.

The name played in her head like a hymn, repeated again and again, and it was difficult to stay focused. How had Aska always kept it together? She wished for his strength now, for his will to feel nothing like unwashed stone. Cold, and immovable, she envied him now.

Holding back a broken sob, she focused on the items before her. A few stray feathers, some bones—splintered and stained—and freshly plucked petals, lain out in a small circle, with one of Talta’s feathers tucked gently in the center. She had nothing else to offer, no food of real substance, no proper gifts, just her words now.

Head dipping low, Teyani moved a step closer, just above her makeshift altar. A beat of silence passed, one that felt loud and angry in its stillness, before words slipped freely. She whispered a prayer, eyes filled with tears, grief settling into her bones like waterlogged roots, clinging and cold.

This was no life she wanted. Where were the sounds of life? The sound of crackling coals, and wood splintering? The constant squeals and peals of children, the warm chatter of kin?

Oh, how she missed them, even if they had made her who she was now. Sielka'rin, just a girl with no home left to call her back.
]]>
aw
She was one of the forgotten. A sielka'rin, nothing more, nothing less.

The name played in her head like a hymn, repeated again and again, and it was difficult to stay focused. How had Aska always kept it together? She wished for his strength now, for his will to feel nothing like unwashed stone. Cold, and immovable, she envied him now.

Holding back a broken sob, she focused on the items before her. A few stray feathers, some bones—splintered and stained—and freshly plucked petals, lain out in a small circle, with one of Talta’s feathers tucked gently in the center. She had nothing else to offer, no food of real substance, no proper gifts, just her words now.

Head dipping low, Teyani moved a step closer, just above her makeshift altar. A beat of silence passed, one that felt loud and angry in its stillness, before words slipped freely. She whispered a prayer, eyes filled with tears, grief settling into her bones like waterlogged roots, clinging and cold.

This was no life she wanted. Where were the sounds of life? The sound of crackling coals, and wood splintering? The constant squeals and peals of children, the warm chatter of kin?

Oh, how she missed them, even if they had made her who she was now. Sielka'rin, just a girl with no home left to call her back.
]]> <![CDATA[sinulle]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7890 Sat, 31 May 2025 23:07:57 -0400 Teyani ]]> https://revamp.vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=7890
aw
Water clung to Teyani like a second skin. Cold, but kind. She hadn’t felt clean in moons. The stream was shallow where she’d settled, barely more than a winding ribbon through the redfern, but it was enough. Enough to rinse the dust from her limbs, the ache from her paws. Her fur floated gently around her, trailing like moss in the current.

The world was hushed, save for the sound of her voice.

She was singing.

Not loudly—barely more than a murmur. The tune was old—a song from home. Something her sisters used to hum when they gathered petals for spring rites, or as aiti would braid her hair. She hadn’t meant to sing it. The words had just…come. And it felt nice, to fill the silence that had become her unwelcome companion.

Kukka kulka, satu pieni—
Sisko nauraa, tuuli vie.
Sormet multa, suu on makea,
Kevät tuo meidät vielä.”

Talta perched nearby, feathers fluffed and head tucked. Watching, listening.

Teyani dipped lower then, letting the water rise to her shoulders, her chest, her jaw. Pebbles shifted beneath her paws. A leaf brushed past her ribs, tugging at her like aiti’s hand. Her voice shook—and then—

The song faded on her tongue, faltering like shattered glass.

Her breath caught, ears drawing back, storm-washed eyes narrowing.

Something was off. A change in the air. A quiet that wasn’t hers. A scent she did not know, and she felt it. That feeling of being seen–of being watched. She knew it well, remembered what it felt like from before.

Teyani stilled her movements, water lapping at her neck. But she didn’t look back, didn’t call out.

Instead—she continued her song. Louder this time. Not for comfort, but for them, whoever it was behind her. A warning, perhaps. Or an invitation. She couldn’t say.

Her voice trembled like the current, but it did not break.

Kuurenka, maan lapsi,
Käänny, käänny, anna varsi.
Äiti näkee, vaikka ei ääntäkään,
Ei ole kiirettä, ei ole vikaa.
Sinun ansiostasi, juuri ja verso,
Nälkäni ei saa sinua kiroamaan!
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aw
Water clung to Teyani like a second skin. Cold, but kind. She hadn’t felt clean in moons. The stream was shallow where she’d settled, barely more than a winding ribbon through the redfern, but it was enough. Enough to rinse the dust from her limbs, the ache from her paws. Her fur floated gently around her, trailing like moss in the current.

The world was hushed, save for the sound of her voice.

She was singing.

Not loudly—barely more than a murmur. The tune was old—a song from home. Something her sisters used to hum when they gathered petals for spring rites, or as aiti would braid her hair. She hadn’t meant to sing it. The words had just…come. And it felt nice, to fill the silence that had become her unwelcome companion.

Kukka kulka, satu pieni—
Sisko nauraa, tuuli vie.
Sormet multa, suu on makea,
Kevät tuo meidät vielä.”

Talta perched nearby, feathers fluffed and head tucked. Watching, listening.

Teyani dipped lower then, letting the water rise to her shoulders, her chest, her jaw. Pebbles shifted beneath her paws. A leaf brushed past her ribs, tugging at her like aiti’s hand. Her voice shook—and then—

The song faded on her tongue, faltering like shattered glass.

Her breath caught, ears drawing back, storm-washed eyes narrowing.

Something was off. A change in the air. A quiet that wasn’t hers. A scent she did not know, and she felt it. That feeling of being seen–of being watched. She knew it well, remembered what it felt like from before.

Teyani stilled her movements, water lapping at her neck. But she didn’t look back, didn’t call out.

Instead—she continued her song. Louder this time. Not for comfort, but for them, whoever it was behind her. A warning, perhaps. Or an invitation. She couldn’t say.

Her voice trembled like the current, but it did not break.

Kuurenka, maan lapsi,
Käänny, käänny, anna varsi.
Äiti näkee, vaikka ei ääntäkään,
Ei ole kiirettä, ei ole vikaa.
Sinun ansiostasi, juuri ja verso,
Nälkäni ei saa sinua kiroamaan!
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