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[The Blinding Light Studio]

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Known as the Celestial Seat, Nyka is a religious city in Northern Sylira. Ruled by four demigods and traversed by a large crevice, the monk-city is both mystical and dangerous. [Lore]

Ruckus [Open]

Postby Jag on December 22nd, 2011, 3:24 pm


Winter 23, 511 AV

The air was dead and crisp and a sun in a cloudless sky barely touched the clay-colored earth with its warm fingers through winter’s thick chill.

“Dog. Here, Dog.” A voice called, followed by a sharp whistle, through the crisp winter air. “Dog. Here, Dog.”

The lilt of the voice was oddly empty, a shadow of what it could have been. The whistle repeated itself, and another, identical Dog, here Dog, was uttered. It seemed like a fruitless effort; before finally, a shaggy brown beast lifted its head from a wooden crate—empty, save for a rat equally zealous in its foraging—and plodded towards what it assumed would be a better source to fill its empty belly.

Instead, he found Jag.

The bird sat squat on top of an embellished archway, head cocked to one side so that a single yellow eye leered, unblinking, at the prize of his efforts. His beak hung open, unmoving, and another Dog, here Dog emerged from him, followed by a ruffling of glossy brown feathers. Dog barked. Jag started, scurried sideways across the sign fixed above the stone arch, and turned his other eye on Dog. Dog barked again; however, instead of balking, the bird screeched, withdrew his head, and began to incessantly repeat the mocking call. DOG, HERE DOG! DOG, HERE DOG! The game soon turned into a display of who was louder, to the inevitable chagrin of anyone in or around the Blinding Light Studio.

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Postby Volans on December 23rd, 2011, 5:02 pm

"Need some help, my feathered friend?"

The voice that spoke was soft, but masculine as well. A shadow detached itself from the tattered darkness of the alley, emerging into the harsh Nykan light of the street. It was a man, sturdy and short, borne of the wintry North; or so it seemed. Eyes deepening to a shade of purple glared up at the archway, traditionally Vantha-dark eyebrows raised in question as he considered the avian perched upon it.

"You're a strange one, aren't you?" the ethaefal known as Volans questioned, tilting his head to get a better look at the bird. A smile tugged at the edges of his lips as he considered the strange animal upon his perch. A bark sounded behind him - his gaze was conflicted, torn to the side as he spotted the mangy dog the bird was seemingly speaking to. The smile grew larger.

"Y'know, they say the smartest of birds are the ones that can speak," he muttered, his voice almost lost in the escalating loudness of the bird and dog's vocal battle. "I think you go above and beyond that definition, eh?...Even if you are currently yelling at a mongrel."

He sighed. "Do you think you could quiet it down?" Volans asked the bird, louder now. More than a few strange glances were spared the man who talked to a bird, but more often than not they were too busy covering their ears to pay him much attention. "I think the people inside the Blinding Light Studio would appreciate it." That had been his destination, up until a moment ago; and now, something new held his interest.
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Postby Shade on December 23rd, 2011, 9:46 pm

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The white raven was curious. Pale as snow and bright blue of eye, she tilted her head and cawed when she heard the call. Shade was in the courtyard busy with the work he was expected to do as Lynk's apprentice. This time he was preparing wood for the forge, cutting it down with an axe into manageable pieces the jewelry forge could handle. Stripped to the waist, wielding an axe, Opal was with him out in the cold winter sunshine chopping away.

*chop chop chop*

Punctuated now and again by a pause, breath recaptured and more chopping noises resounding through the courtyard. Splitting wood wasn't Shadekas' favorite past time, but it did keep him fit and trim along with his other regiment. Opal, having just fledged last season, was on a serious growth spurt. She'd soon be full grown and ate everything in site. Bugs feared her and the birds presence in the Courtyard had greatfully decreased the presence of other things as well. When she heard the call... “Dog. Here, Dog.” The white raven tilted her head and looked for the source.

She took wing, flapping around the courtyard and spotted the new bird perched on the arch. She circled once more, and not knowing any better, back winged to land on the tall wall surrounding The Blinding Light. Tilting her head, she snapped her beak open once, twice, getting a better look at the strange newcomer, and then cawed experimentally. She was no kelvic, nothing but a normal raven albeit white, and had no idea what the bird was doing or saying. But she was definitely checking out something new in her little world.

She eyed the stranger on the ground talking to the bird as well, looking at him oddly. She settled, ruffled her feathers, and snapped her beak once more. This was definitely more interesting than what Shade was doing within.
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Postby Jag on December 24th, 2011, 12:22 am


To Jag’s delight, the call was capable of attracting a more substantial audience than Dog.

The yapping mongrel gave way to a creature dark of hair, reminiscent of a body he could take at will, but shorter, heartier, and much more articulate. Jag leaned forward, head still cocked, studying the peculiar pink gash that presented a line of inane questions. He was suddenly inspired to try it himself, using that fat wet tongue and awkward, flesh-wrapped beak to repeat the stranger’s words back on him. Maybe he’d send him into a fit as amusing as Dog’s. The last time he’d traded feather and wing for the pleasure of filling his lungs with insolent man sounds, his awkward form had learned the shortcomings of man when his feet were not safely planted on firm ground.

Jag croaked, dipped his beak into a torrent of dark brown feathers and shuffled a collection of tail feathers before letting out a guttural clamor that sounded more like iron hitting wood than any discernable call. Chop, chop, chop.

Then a flash of white caught in his peripherals, ripped him from the earthbound inquirer. He flinched. Feathers rose on his flesh; his capped head sunk against the growing mound of mottled brown and black. Jag was no stranger to other birds, although most of his flock had been occupied by much smaller specimens than the white behemoth that found itself before him. The audacious thing let out a quork, and Jag responded with a chirrup and a sharp flip of his wings. It was simple enough to toss aside a finch that dared share his roost, but this thing, this great white creature, would not be so easily swayed.

Dog had quieted, grown disinterested in the gathering, and had padded back to his empty crate to lick the splintering bottom clean of whatever plagued his hungry nose. While ground was deemed safe from the wrath of Dog, Jag found himself having to choose between the defense of his roost and the inquiring mind below.

No, there was a third option.

Jag took to the air in a flurry of dark feathers, but a swarm of light overtook him in the blink of an eye it took him to dive towards the dust-riddled street. Talons became feet, and the short, soft toes on the ends of them dug, wobbled, and maintained his balance against the pull of the ground beneath him. He was lanky and pale and as naked as the day of his birth but he glared up with those thin, defiant rings of golden brown at the alabaster bird he abandoned on the archway, and let out a loud and victorious bellow of laughter.

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Postby Shyda Ormoph on December 25th, 2011, 6:17 pm

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Last edited by Shyda Ormoph on December 27th, 2011, 9:46 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Volans on December 26th, 2011, 6:02 pm

Volans laughed, a clarion sound that meshed badly with the lowset form from which it had originated. Vanthan hands came up to clap dryly as Volans looked over the naked youth who -suddenly, unexpectedly- stood in front of him. The bird was gone, too - one might have thought that newcomer, the semi-large raven of strangely white feathers, might have scared it off. But the burst of light that had preceded the young man's appearance was too much of a coincidence.

"Kelvic," Volans guessed, his voice still full of the frank admiration that had appeared with his outburst. He knew little of the race - none, in fact, save that which came in those ethereal other-life memories that haunted him, but even they were vague and indistinct. Still, the change was too obvious even for a callow observer such as he. "That's...new."

Volans noticed the dog had quietened, perhaps because the form he was so content to argue with had disappeared, or maybe perhaps because he had been distracted by something else. But in truth, Volans cared little about the dog.

The Kelvic let out a bellowing laugh at his own, directed at the bird whom he had so recently fled. Still chortling, Volans walked forward to stand next to the other man, looking up at the other bird with dark eyes of his own. "Do you know him?" he asked, societal niceties lost within a sea of curiosity. "That bird certainly seems to want to know you."

Volans glanced at the other man. He didn't seem disturbed by the man's lack of clothes at all, but, then again, Volans allowed little emotion onto his face that he didn't want. "I'm Volans," he said, smile tugging on his lips, "What is your name? I certainly can't just call you "bird kelvic", now can I?" The smile grew. "Unless you'd prefer that."
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Postby Shade on December 26th, 2011, 9:08 pm

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Shadekas peered through the entrance to the gate, an eyebrow raised, and stripped to the waist even in the cold. He was sweaty and carrying an axe, his eyes flicking from Opal - the white raven up on the arch - to the commotion on the ground level.

He was in time for the transformation and was shaking his head knowingly. Kelvics, in his mind, were interesting but a whole lot of trouble. The man nodded to Volans, eyed the woman, and then studied the bird turned man hesitantly.

"Is this city plagued with Kelvics? This is literally the second one I've seen in so many days." He commented, using his tunic to wipe the sweat off his brow and mop up the perspiration around his chest and shoulders. It was frigidly cold outside and even though he was steaming with sweat, Shade didn't seem to notice. Obviously his work was overheating him.

Opal whistled when she saw Shade, launched off the arch, and back winged down to his shoulder. He automatically pulled a bit of jerky from his pocket and fed it to her. She ruffled her feathers, stared at the kelvic, and seemed trying to understand the whole concept of bird not/bird.

Shade nodded to Volans in greeting then said simply. "Good seeing you Volans."
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Postby Jag on January 9th, 2012, 1:23 am


“Bird,” Jag repeated, clumsy tongue wrestling with words that weren’t mirrored sounds. “I am a bird! So is she, but I’m more.”

The whites around Jag’s yellow-green eyes flared as he fixed a grinning leer on the white raven; she had retreated to the shoulder of a man with food. Volans had spoken, told him his name, and pointed towards reciprocation; Jag’s bare shoulders lifted and sagged. “I’m called Jag. Jag the bird, the plagued Kelvic!”

Winter’s bite was catching up to the man who had so willingly shed his feathers. Gooseflesh rippled across his arms, down his legs; the tips of his fingers slapped along his thighs in an attempt to brush away prickling numbness. He rolled from the balls of his feet to his heels, his hands rose to the warmth of his stomach, and it responded with a guttural growl. His eyes drifted again to the raven; he wet his lips, trying to remember what the jerky had looked like, before it disappeared within her beak.

Jag’s head tilted. He gave the half-clad man a one-eyed stare, and slowly began to unravel the intricate puzzle of labels that had been set before him. An absent hand waved towards Volans, grasped for a shoulder blindly, and tried to forget the creeping cold settling in beneath his skin. “This man is Volans. What are you called?”

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Postby Volans on January 18th, 2012, 9:26 pm

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"Uh-huh." Volans said in reply to Jag's theatrical act. He raised a single brow. "Well, in any case, it's nice to meet you, Jag." he spoke dryly, though a trace of his old humor still lingered in his blackened eyes.

"And, of course you're more. You're a Kelvic, my boy." he said, slipping unconsciously into the sobriquets of his mortal form. He spent a moment examining the young man, eyeing the gooseflesh and noting the sound his stomach made. Volans sighed.

"Here." With no little reluctance he pulled off his coat and threw it over to Jag, leaving him with nothing more than his tunic. "Just give it back to me before you shift?" Volans remembered enough about Kelvics to know how likely that would happen, and he sighed again. A shiver crept over him as the wind blew yet again. He was used to the icy ways of the North, but that had been a long time ago, and this time no snowflake graced his form.

Volans was distracted from his newly freezing state by someone incoming, and there was a faint sort of surprise as he registered it as Shadekas, the monk from not too many days past. He nodded in greeting as well, about to speak when an icy hand landed on his shoulder and the bird-man spoke for him.

"I think he'd like to know your name." Volans prodded Jag patiently, motioning discreetly at Shade. "He already knows mine."
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