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at the laundromat, they’re whispering of war

Sun, 28 Jun 2026 16:03:05 -0400

There is familiarity in these fields.

He knows it will never be the same as his homeland. The peaks of the mountains do not loom above the plains. There are no taiga or red stags to dot the fields. Yet with the arrival of the kin of the clan of Nazgur the land here develops a heartbeat of its own. It pulses with the thunder of Tengri’s breath, it sends horses scattering into a herd. They will be reborn anew;

and still, his boyish heart hopes for peace for his people.

He huffs, walking a brisk pace under the glow of a crescent moon, a sliver in the sky. It illuminates him in a silver glow, and he is not the only one. She stands not too far in the distance. Once betrothed, a worthy match eej told him and kissed his crown. Was it because she saw the young girl as a worthy daughter, more robust than he?

Oyun, he calls out. Dark guard hairs are stiff. She is no longer a pup. She is formidable, eyes intense. And how would those eyes seek to judge him?

she sells seashells by the seashore

Sun, 28 Jun 2026 16:00:26 -0400

The shrine to Aphrodite sits on the beach, just above the wash of the tide but close enough for sand to shift beneath Cupid's paws as he approaches. Directly opposite, across the island and nestled in the mountains and pine, lies Freya's own shrine.

Grandiose temples are outside of Cupid's purview in this body, but he has done what he must for their patrons. Aphrodite's shrine is made of layers of driftwood locked together, with seashells and seaglass tucked into every nook and cranny of the wood, and tied to the branches with vine. In the seabreeze, the decorations sway and chime as they clink together, a musical symphony that makes it easy for Cupid to find anytime. A desiccating corpse of a sacrifice lies at the bottom of the shrine. Cupid noses the tufts of fur and sinew into the hungering sea, then turns back to the shrine.

Elbows sink into the sand as he prostrates himself to the shrine of the goddess who bore him. The sound of murmured prayer is lost beneath the sigh of the waves and the wail of a gull high overhead.

Lupercalia. It is too late in the season for the celebration, but spring is the first season since the darkness that enveloped the world worth celebrating. And Cupid is not willing to let the fickle and violent weather of springtime in these far northern islands ruin Skjoldrheim's first festival in so long. The messengers have been sent. Will any come? Their numbers have dwindled greatly following the harsh and long winter. Cupid knows little of what the world of the mainland looks like now.

It will not matter. Come one, come none. Cupid is steadfast in his faith in the wolves brave enough to call this island home, and in the goddesses that have claimed their people as their own to watch over.

Lupercalia, to celebrate the return of the light, and to remind themselves never to forget the darkness they have survived.

Form submission: Character Creation

Sun, 28 Jun 2026 15:09:49 -0400

Character's Name: Blue

Registered Name: 01

Sex: female

Pronouns: her

Age: 6 years

Species: horse: American Bashkir Curly

Mutations/Genetic Variations?: none

Reincarnation: none

Mark of Mythris: None

Pregnant?: none

Items: none

Notes?: Beginning emaciated. If the "build" and "weight" fields are not indicative of present health and cannot be edited later, then they may be set to "slender" build and "average" weight.

[aw] Roebuck moon

Sun, 28 Jun 2026 15:07:46 -0400

claiming the steppe! welcome too <3 single replies welcome, batu will be leaving with the tianlong travelling party & oyun is in charge!

Manifest is the vigor of the khaan under open sky, through greening sea and lures of tall altargana. The long river valley is hemmed by hills, blocking the bulk of harsh windstreak. Driving the herd to a muster, Batu raises a rough howl, saturating the soil with his stream.

“Camp will be made here until the season turns.” In the vale, against the side-winding river. “Mark it well. Let all who cross the steppe know mongolia has come home.”

He waits for the return of others. He waits for . A counsel of heaven and earth deems their awakening here. 's arrival confirms this, for the khagan's gifted physician would have been dismissed only for a grave cause. Seven months would find the steppe mourning their dead. But grief cannot ensue; there is only the work of rebuilding.

Eye is kept for and , the widowed noyakin. They have no harem to dig their shelter, no nokud to ride out and bring back game. These things he must do before returning to the tianlong— to be trapped in place, amid excess of ponderous possessions and pounded-wall pavilions.

In his absence, “Khatun, is to be heeded.” Only to his sister does the khaan speak of this relationship with the han. “The royal party is travelling. Their land will be under lighter guard for some months. Learn its entry points, but do not rush. We must not tread the same road which buried Nazgur.”

roots

Sun, 28 Jun 2026 13:53:37 -0400

[ ]

Oliver was truly beginning to get tired of it here.

While he could never deny it was a beautiful place, full of a variety of terrains and some that even reminded him of home — well, he was just sure that it was out to get him personally.

This morning had been routine, even positive, as he’d managed to both sleep soundly and catch a meal with little difficulty. It had been sunny, warm, and as he lay out in the open to catch the rays like a cold-blooded thing, he would’ve even described himself as contented.

However, now, soaked through and thrashed around like a leaf in the wind, he was anything but. The bulbous clouds had ascended without a warning, and even faster came the lightning, the gale, the pelting rain. A promising day ruined by a freak storm.

The man was now currently taking shelter in a small rocky cave on the edge of the meadow, just in the tree line. His line of sight wasn’t great, but he could still see out towards the fields if anyone should happen upon him.

Light Divine

Sun, 28 Jun 2026 04:38:32 -0400

Not quite present dated but takes place after the wedding!

returned with the golden bloom. Several, in fact, to see whether it could be cultivated in the Skyspear and what ways it might be dried or applied to other ailments. Setemhotep was grateful. , he suspected, would be more appreciate still. For with this blossom, she would be free once and for all of the curse which ravaged her.

The blue turtlehead gave her back her faculties. But without frequent infusion, its effects faded. She could not leave Satriya, or she would succumb again to the influence of chaos. She had not seen her sons, and for this, Setemhotep ached.

He was glad to be a vessel by which true healing might at last be offered. It was prepared in a tincture with honey and white fish, for no other reason than he thought the ordeal deserved some celebratory pomp.

I think, He even suggested, sliding the delicacy toward her, We might even have reason to break into the wine.

destined to fall

Sat, 27 Jun 2026 23:27:44 -0400

Váli had very few things that made him unique.

Born only to avenge, there was little else in his existence that truly mattered. Sword, flesh, blood. Rinse. Repeat.

Anger brewed beneath the surface of his skin, blood boiling with rage. He used it, this anger. Every word cut like a blade, and every blade swung cut that much deeper fueled by his fury.

It kept away most companionship, and Váli liked it this way. Liked being alone, craved the way others would turn their heads and stare elsewhere when he entered the room.

None could get close, and Váli preferred it this way.

Except one...

But he was gone, too. Driven away, repelled by Váli like all of the others. And the solitude that followed was unlike any Váli had experienced.

Perhaps this was what led to his inevitable downfall.

The blade cut him from throat to the bottom of his ribs. Ichor splattered in a macabre painting across the floor. Agony laced with the anger draining from his body.

He wanted someone to be there. Wanted to take the hand of his companion. Reached for it, even.

But no one was there.

Awakening was hell.

The wound stitched itself up, closing over muscle and bone and sinew. Inch by agonizing inch, it sealed together, and Váli could not help the gasping, guttural cries of a man disemboweled from slipping past his lips.

His paws - paws - scrabbled in the bloody mud beneath him, his body flaring white hot with pain.

And then it was over, and Váli was left in a trembling heap on the crimson earth, breath leaving him in ragged gulps as he attempted to orient himself

Fair Daffodils

Sat, 27 Jun 2026 21:31:27 -0400

\o/

Running through the moorland, a favorite activity, had changed lately into more of a... loping through the moorland. Liss's stamina was much reduced, her appetite bolstered, her wanderlust diminished.

Diminished, but not absent entirely. Though she kept her treks to the borderlands of Camhanaich, she continued to make them. The only thing worse than overexertion these days was sitting still.

She followed grasshoppers through heather, tail wagging, and hummed an old Havir song to herself that floated across blooming fields into the wind.

my ego is already bruised

Sat, 27 Jun 2026 20:37:20 -0400

For but any others welcome if they wish

The sun was beginning to make its descent, casting the earth in its warm, golden hue, enhancing the colors surrounding Jarek as he limped through this vast field. Sunflowers loomed tall above his shoulder and swayed in a gentle breeze. The dog snorted at their laughing faces. Such happy flowers. He, on the other hand, was absolutely not happy. It wasn’t the pain - he relished the sting of it - but rather how absurdly slow he was moving and the rumble of his stomach.

Jarek felt the air as it passed the open flap of skin in his throat, an odd, tickling sensation. The blood clotted soon after he’d escaped the devil wolf, leaving his tan fur tinged the color of rust. The wound in his thigh, however, continued to seep periodically, the deep red blood breaking through despite his body’s attempts to start its healing process. Pink muscle protruded from the opening, shredded between teeth, and scraps of skin and fur hung loosely at the edges. He’d kept an ear out for the sound of water in hopes he could properly clean the wounds, but had been unsuccessful so far.

He knew, from his previous scouting, of the wolf pack to the west, and he’d seen glimpses of water near where they resided, but Jarek couldn’t guarantee that the devil wolf he’d encountered didn’t live among them. If they were all as psychotic as that one, he’d be torn to shreds. He may not have been the brightest of his family, but he was no stranger to assessing risks, and that was certainly not worth it.

Jarek exhaled loudly as he peered at the treeline in the south. It would be another day or more of travel to reach them, he supposed, but it could take longer at the rate he was moving. His belly growled again. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Group Creation Request — Ravorn

Sat, 27 Jun 2026 18:55:08 -0400

Group Creation: Ravorn

in The Giant’s Throne

Group Name

Ravorn

Territory

The Giant’s Throne

Summary

Built upon old bones and older traditions, Ravorn is a community shaped by pagan rites, ancestral reverence, and the unforgiving will of nature. Its members are bound by loyalty, tempered through sacrifice, and sustained by survival. Under the rule of the Rí Cnámh, every hunt is a ritual, every season a trial, and every member a strand in an ancient legacy woven through blood, bone, and memory.

Member Default Rank

Neamhchríochnaithe

Group Admins

Group Leaders

Group Colours: Light Mode

#463329 & #A5D2A2

Group Colours: Dark Mode

#463329 & #A5D2A2

Group Name Colours: Light Mode

#463329

Group Name Colours: Dark Mode

#A5D2A2

Founding Members

Thread links

heart sick

Sat, 27 Jun 2026 18:42:54 -0400

red flowers for summer events

Softness warms her frame, and there is nothing stopping her as she lopes amongst the wildflowers. Dotted across the field, it is the red blossoms she is drawn to, burrowing her face within their centers as if she is a bee in search of pollen.

Their scent is unfamiliar, belonging to no flower she can recall. Not that she has ever been knowledgeable in such things, of course. Nonetheless, they calm her mind all the same, and leave her feeling almost weightless.

Feelings of grief, of anger, of resentment—they are feelings of another woman. They are certainly not feelings that belong to her!

A chuff leaves her, and she rolls onto her side in one breath, cheek pressing against warm, sun-heated grass and into crushed red petals, nostrils flaring. She breathes in slow, deep breaths, tail thudding happily against the ground beside her.

The flowers smell wonderful. Everything smells wonderful. Would they taste wonderful? Considering, her tongue slides across scarred lips, and her eyes widen.

And for perhaps the first time in her life, Tselmuun finds herself considering whether she ought to eat one.

it's time to strap our boots on

Sat, 27 Jun 2026 18:39:20 -0400

The last thing he remembered was the other man, the one he had spent weeks following; one lead after another, most ending exactly as expected. Dead ends and rumors. Tracks that belonged to someone else, but eventually, there had only been one left. he never learned the mans name, only that he had crossed paths with Monty shortly before his son disappeared. Whether he had been responsible or merely knew something hadn't mattered.

He had answers, and Hexx intended to get them.

The conversation hadn't lasted long before steel nerves met a sharper tongue suspicion giving way to violence before either had managed much more than a handful of words. The stranger fought with the desperation of someone protecting more than his own life, and Hexx had answered in kind.

Fragments were all he remembered after that, and a body disappearing into the trees.

—

Hexx opened his eyes to a canopy of green leaves shifting gently overhead, indifferent to the blood dried across his shoulder and chest. He remained still only long enough to take stock. His left shoulder had been torn open badly enough to stiffen the entire leg, several cuts littered his side. Every deep breath pressed against cracked ribs, though nothing felt broken badly enough to stop him walking, it was good enough for him.

So he climbed onto his feet and started walking. His pace was slower than usual, blood loss making itself known with each mile, but he continued all the same. The forest gradually became familiar in ways he hadn't expected until the mountains themselves came into view.

Dawnbreak? He huffed and continued toward home, blood slowly working its way back through the fur along his shoulder with every step.

—

I met you by surprise

Sat, 27 Jun 2026 17:51:18 -0400

located at little lake! territory points perhaps
perhaps?

A statue beneath the setting sun, Tselmuun sits with her eyes closed, face upturned toward the sky. The air smells of wild grass and fresh water, and the steady thunder of the waterfall fills the valley below. The air is hot and sticky, a gift from summer come anew, and she finds herself uncertain if she enjoys or hates the way heat dances across her skin.

An unknown amount of time passes, her mind blissfully quiet for once, until finally the heat grows unbearable. She is panting, tongue lolling from scarred lips, pupils dilated. Her fur feels warm, and her thoughts sluggish. Lazily, her eyes drift toward the tall trees concealing the water from view, and a decision is made before she can change her mind.

Rising to her feet, she sets off on stalking steps, seeking refuge past the towering trees from the relentless heat.

The moment she reaches the water's edge and presses a paw into the dark pool, a sigh escapes her. She takes little notice of the waterfall ahead, the towering cliff boxing it in, or creatures darting beneath the surface, too busy soaking up the sudden chill.

It is wonderful! Cold sprays from the falls, and she can finally breathe again.

Her body, tense with old grief and emotions long left unsorted, begins to loosen beneath the feel of cooling water. Unconcerned with dignity and caring little for caution, Tselmuun picks her way across the slick stones, steps pressing firmly, fighting the urge to throw herself within it! She can only laugh when she nearly falls, water sloshing as she slides forward on wobbly steps.

The new rigme

Sat, 27 Jun 2026 17:35:27 -0400

Down south there would be music and glory, heartbreak and heart’s ease, claws or fang drawn sometimes in the lower chamberways and alleys. And come morning, power and passion and celebration all over again, jostling each other in the Pharaoh’s halls— narrowed for furtive love or quick bloodshed. So it goes also into bedchambers and planted courtyards, where flowering hedges droop over springs and deep-dredged artificial pools.

Horselord retreats.

He remembers plains like these. Remembers with whom he’d been there last, in tiger-iris time, before their fathers had died.

The waif aspired to be one of the khagan’s civil servants then, with access to the court. To Jochi and Tselmuun, Oyun and Rasha.

The steppe shimmers. Batu lopes his way northward.

[TT] what you give me to work with

Sat, 27 Jun 2026 17:24:28 -0400

At long last, Tianlong’s tour through Mythris begins! This will be Stop #1 of the journey and takes place on 6/12.

Tagging those currently traveling with Tianlong so everyone knows who may be present for this part of the procession: Lanyi (& others!)

There is no pressure or requirement to respond to this thread! Anyone who would like to reply is more than welcome to do so. Please note somewhere in your post whether your character is skippable so the thread can move along smoothly.

Members are also more than welcome to start their own side threads in non-claimed territories around this same time frame! Whether your character is exploring, hunting, resting, socializing, wandering off from the main procession, or simply having a little moment of their own, feel free to use this general tour window as an opportunity for extra threads. Please use the prefix TT (Tianlong Tour) in the title

The conditions were ripe for Tianlong to travel. Fortune had been favorable to the dynasty, between the brightening of the world and the conception of the Emperor's next litter – days of celebration, for both the newly wedded pair and that the Imperial Emperor would soon have his heir, led to the decision that their momentum must not cease. They must not become complacent, so close to the cusp of true prosperity.

The sheer potentiality of a long-lasting peace drove Tianlong forward, intent on grasping it for themselves.

There was another faction, not too far from where the Dynasty had celebrated Satriya’s wedding – and it would behoove Tianlong to better know their neighbors. The brief moment that Yue had believed another nation could span the entirety of the continent was the moment that the Empress realized she did not know enough about the lands around her.

What’s more, is that the Empress could not forget how one of her own healers had recently returned home, full to bursting with the pups from unknown origins. It was a personal failing that stung deeply. That was her divine purpose – to offer her shield to those within her domain – and this, she had not achieved.

Furthermore, there was no realm that Yue would bring life into this world, and allow it to be snuffed out due to her own misinformation. So, upon the order from the emperor, the group at the wedding fractured into two groups.

One returned to the eastern jungles, and the other moved forward, intent on securing their fortune through awareness and open-mindedness.

After a matter of days, the scent borders of another’s domain manifested before them. Yue, quietly noting that this was the first time she had approached another nation aside from Satriya and Tianlong itself (both for the reasons of weddings, one of them being her own), approached with such aplomb and affinity for diplomacy that left no question, she wished to be the one to call.

So she did, but not before glancing backwards at those who were with her, steadying them with a deep breath of her own.

Here, they approached the unknown.

and here, they trusted that the ancestors would protect their path.

༻❁༺