there's a harvest buried in the bottom of the sky; and, i'm thinking, what will then become of you? i...

In the beginning there was darkness and those that danced within it. At every start, it's always that way. Darkness giving birth to light so every creature can understand the gift of illumination, of warmth, of safety. The Darkness rules for longer than most sentient creatures can fathom and then, The Creator builds new things. To the Straz, it has always been The Gardner: a loving hand spreading seeds without any intention on which will grow to harvest or not. Every seed gets planted, every sapling gets nurtured and fed and eventually, the light begins to bloom for better or for worse. Perhaps that is why the slip of folded time and space beside the collection of all knowledge of all creation is called The Garden: flowers only know things through flower ways.

StrazStraz is a word older than old, a signature for unique stars themselves: the Petals of Heaven. They are transitions, slips of creation that are neither here nor there, existing as gently as petals on the wind might. They were not the first lights of the universe and they are hardly the last of the unique ones but they are special. Every seedling is. Even those that die, which every Straz has; that is their true birth. A light that loses to the angry darkness before overcoming to be something new. It's rare — too rare, in their taste — but true; four lights that were broken by the old dark and learned, somehow, to bleed twilight into new life and form for themselves.

So, in the beginning, there was darkness and those who danced within it. And when the dancers learned their grace in light, the darkness was an envious thing. Dominant, and strong. It broke with beasts and misfortune. It shattered at the world and took the stars of the heavens and crumpled them whenever it could. The Gardener did Their best to stop this, to build fences and safety, but creatures always get in; that is the curse of tending to too large a field, after all. With every seed unsure, you are never aware of what patch will need tender care the most. Some seeds are stronger than others, though. Some grow wild over the trees and soil. Some fight back, even against the sharpest of teeth. The Straz were like this: dying stars that decided to bite back.

First came BozurBozur, the healer of the light and stars, rising from defeat like a savage light that refused to break; the eldest of the Straz, the first petal to sweep back against the winds of destiny and ride toward something new. This the harvesting of stardust and strength; the first true season of the spaces bewteen life. Next, DaylaDayla who sprung forth like the songs of birds in early morning light; the second eldest of the Straz, who carries forward to split darkness down the middle. The burning brightness of stardust and the cosmos; Dayla comes like summer, the wholeness of life between youth and harvest. NelumNelum fought back next, the elegance of light and the stars, swirling as petals falling from their stems and beating darkness back. Nelum came as the bathing of light: the luxury and elegance of refined brightness, just as winter graces the land and covers all with unblemished snow. Nelum washes the seasons in new beginnings and ends of the past, welcoming the last of the Straz thereafter. RuzaRuza burst through the darkness too eager, too loud and bold and bright; it was their siblings that eased them into something calmer, something routine and bemused. Still, Ruza is the wild growth of the stars and light, the eternal return through all of creation, Spring of cosmic knowing.

Four undead stars, singularities in their own right, unique through all of space and time. And they would learn to play, to use both light and darkness in the everlasting garden outside of their humble spot in the universes. Moving, as it were, like pollen, always making a home anywhere they landed, the roaming CeiuxCieux — The Flowers of Paradise, the Petals of Heaven.

The Cluster was such a strange thing to those who saw it, not so much a garden as its light seemed more like a "planet" that would be lost to history books under the name of Nibiru. It was a point of transition: a fold in the everlasting sky that sometimes glowed before the gods visited. This made it, to most, a distant planet the gods lived on: a mystical and mythological place no one could ever see or understand. From the first sentient to stumble into a Straz to the last, the stories bloomed: Nibiru, Asgard, Valhalla, Elysian Fields, Irkalla, Summerland, Hel, Avalan and more are all taken from bits and pieces of the stories and places imagined by the first humans to weaves tales together. From Sumer and Akkadia to Greece and The Vikins, Siberia and Mongolia, and even tribes through India and China, the Straz became the figures of stars and forgotten, just as 'Nibirbu' was, but the feelings they left in people built new shrines and temples to be filled by the powers of Earth.

But it was not just The Milky Way the Straz made playgrounds out of: it was an exploration of all the dimensions with which transitions flowed. Of all the possibilities, only five dimensions mattered: the twelve realms. Each of them a triumph of light and power, a flourish of life. But each of them tangled into the tides of war and violence. Mishaps and misadventures plagued the Sumerians, chased the Whakaora, burned the fields of the Emberek. And in the end, nothing came out in new light; there were only victors and losers, the righteous and the fallen. So, the Straz took a chance at doing their own gardening, hoping that one single forest could grow wild enough with life and twilight that nothing would come to a brink of destruction again; death only to keep growth thriving.

It took time. There were seedlings everywhere. Gestures of light and winds, trying to send the right kind of growth where it had to be. They wanted, so badly, for things to work on Earth and then — it seemed nearly impossible for anything to last. So, the Straz did the next best thing: an earlier start somewhere, a place where armageddon could maybe be held back for longer than anywhere else. Worlds of darkness, places the Straz could teach life to overcome the chaos the way they themselves had already done. They slipped into a universe where they could do just that, a dimension connected to the Immense Heaven they were already toying around with: Dast Aker (The Fields). There, the Straz stood their ground, uniting the natural inhabitants of the few sparse worlds growing, guiding them into being true civilizations.

The beasts of chaos and darkness were hardly a trouble, but the Straz knew that becoming actual god-heroes would never suffice. Civilizations rose and fell far too quickly when hung up on the notions of something beyond; people made use too quickly and creatures forgot too swiftly. So, The Straz did the next best thing: each one to a planet, to gather the best that they could, with one simple offer. "Fight, and the power of your lives will spin forever." Onosay was first to be conquered, with eight species and various subsects of them coming together to conquer the grand beasts of chaos: the celove, sormend, sfinga, luontai, morse koje, kitvor, yantam, and the ravarx. Together, they fought with the Straz, listened to the way to overcome the darkness together and for that, a new universe was forged: one bound by the eight nearly-immortal species, each one given their own rules and rights to power supported by the roaming petals of the skies.

Xorsanea was no different, though the central stars of the galaxy meant less species developed enough to want to fight, at first. Just four species stood with the Straz and proved themselves mighty enough to conquer the darkness: the beicud, suungro, poslus and kitvor. It seemed, to The Straz, a good plan. The dimension thrived, grew and bloomed. Planets became habitats of safety and security and even when there were troubles amongst the sentients of the lands, seas or skies, there seemed solutions that were not war and destruction. Armies were for safety from the monsters that rose as the universes spun on; they kept safety and order from destruction, protected all the nations and lands that hadn't yet come to fruition. It was, for better or worse, the garden they had always strived for.

But they would learn, in time, that weeds untended do grow for more than stress. They poison. They destroy.

you know well: when it hits me, it could raise these bones again & i wish that the rumbling would shake me 'til i'm still...

A single being is neither minuscule nor magnificent enough to defeat the universe. On their own, sentient beings shouldn't have had enough influence over the meta of moons and sun suffused shadows to alter the course of anything. But living is barely more than a chaos of existence itself; eventually, things craft and crack into new dark pieces. It was not a dismantling of the laws or existence itself as much as it came a slow business where in instant by instant of weakness, strength was found. Uncertainty and fear became a new creation. Impossibility became, in the oddest fall from grace, the absolutely possible.

There were always rumors. The weakness that hit once every century. The way that light shifted and suddenly hearts felt heavy, softer. But celove had no motivation for exploring myths of old beyond the turmoils of the economy they'd built; they wanted to sustain and survive, to build and flourish, not explore beyond their own means. It was the death of Aviti's own yalo that caused the need to know more; no Sakti Ravich had ever fallen ill to death before, all of them choosing to live the end of their days quietly, simply, after giving the crown to the next in line. Houses changing power, seats drifting from what house proved to have the best plans for Xemabu to continue to grow and take care of its subjects.

Things changed when Aviti took over. Slowly, and sometimes for the best in the eyes of the subjects of Xemabu but they did change.

The first drastic change was Aviti's marriage: not one of the noble houses at all but a local priestess instead. The first of many but, in a mark of power, the only one to obtain the title of Revich and give children who would take rule one day. Kuhra was kind and welcomed in the early seasons of their rule — beloved, even. Not a sentient of the capital hadn't heard of Kuhra's gifted ways in the Temple of the Triple Suns and soon, that word spread far and wide. Aviti stood at their side a glimmering tower of hope: the lost Revich who had lost too much and now held a beauty and wisdom in their own hands for all the universe to witness. A blessing, straight from the stars themselves.

And so, every expansion was a gift, for centuries. It wasn't until Kuhra was in danger with their own pregnancy that things drifted; Aviti had always held darkness but the thought of chasing down creators and gods had never crossed their mind. Destiny would not dismiss their will twice over, however, and the hunt for the Lost Islands rumored to house the Straz themselves was the new conquest to be had. Every hundred years, a weakness; every hundred years, then, there came a chance to conquer destiny and rewrite the stars themselves. Nothing would stop the Empire from expanding then: no immortality, no scions, no destiny or fate.

It took two shots: 200 years of an effort, to subdue the Straz. The first alignment stole Dayla and Ruza from the Islands; the next took Bozur then Nelum. And they did not simply take them: the Dynasty broke the Straz apart, learned to tear them asunder and use their energy. The first three were the experiments; the last... the last became the ultimate weapon for the empire.

armaggedon is flooding through the living room & i, triumphant, stand off dead & tense. we didn't...

"The sadness will not cry out of me," Kuhra held onto their own vacant body as Aviti sat beside them. "One fears if it ever starts, it will never end."

This is how the plan came to action. Not with need for power, but need to prove that no destiny would hinder progress. Selfishness painted in hues of sympathy and healing.

Atsel and Ortasi Lesinar are the false children of a lost pregnancy. In the haze of salvation, Kuhra was lost. "Yes, anything," the Revich of Sakti would tell Aviti. "One simply must." Anything to stay with children, to raise and treasure the gifts marriage and the empire had given. Who cared about far off worlds and galaxies that no one of Xemabu would ever likely visit on their own? What was one lost city, one lost province, when there were babies to raise and the near loss of everything to come back from? The light of Xemabu was darkened then, turned into a coal mine warning with no birds to chirp; delirious and confused and caught in the illusions of purpose, Kuhra became a fiddle for Aviti to use just as surely as Ortasi was.

It was Atsel that was always a problem.

Splitting the darkness from the bright had been easy. Doing away with the vastness of a Straz gifts was another process but, still, simple; daggers and crystals, vessels and shade. Things found a way, through heart sparks and mind moves. Technology infused with magic, after all, was a simple task for the Revich. Aviti had even managed a device to keep the darkness not only bound in a vessel that could be used but to keep the living body nearly completely without will. Ortasi was, for better or worse, a puppet on a string: no thoughts beyond response, no will beyond the commands given. Prompted to destroy, Ortasi would swallowed a universe just to complete its given assignment. Atsel, the brightness of it all, was ever different.

Like, somehow, the brightness had always been the dominant aspect. Like it had always found a way to be superior to all that dark.

Even just trying to contain the brightness, with all its innovations, in a vessel was difficult. For days on end Atsel would bloom light and burn rooms. For weeks, the young Carevic would be thinner than sunrays and fade through everything, or charge up brick and stone as if it were meant to explode and decorate the sky. It took time, too much time, to figure out how to use it for better purposes: a tool, like Ortasi, but in much more delicate affairs. If willful was what the brightness would be, then willful Atsel would become. The young royal who was locked in towers and chambers but given everything a heart could desire. A royal who was taught the downfall of magic and subjects, how dangerous the world was, how awful it could be to anyone not prepared for a real battle. Even when Atsel aged and swore preparedness for the field, no differnt than Ortasi, they felt, it seemed like more reasons were there to avoid ever stepping out of imperial grounds.

There were ways for Atsel to help, anyway. To bring joy and life to the universe. To give back, from afar. The power harnessed from the Carevic began to have purpose, to have use; no longer did Atsel glow and burn and destroy, they gave light willingly and this light had the will to serve. Weapons were made. Tools, for the cities. Vehicles and devices. Suddenly, the empire was not simply expanding: it was magnificent. Everyone sang praises of the Carevics, the way that Kuhra had been so bright and lovely and so, of course, the young Carevics were going to do the same. Heroes! Atsel would sit and hear from every visitor, every worker of the grounds, of the way they people only knew praise. The Bright Carevic. The Kind Carevic. The Gentle and Wise and Beautiful. Stories, as far as the empire could expand towards, all speaking of the brightest light Dast Aker had ever known.

So, what need was there for more than that? Living in luxury, of a belief that every person touched by the greatness of Vosxod Selsele was made better for it. Subjects would send gifts of praise and worship, celebrations would be had all over the land — and Atsel was told of it all, given witness through windows and recordings, even brought out to perform for visitors of noble houses and royal families of afar. It was not a prison by any means but a sanctuary; a safety that needed to be assured, because Atsel learned how often the palace would be under attack and often had to stand up to fight for themselves. It might have gone on forever, a simple practice in belief turning into truth, had it not been for Aviti's evergrowing greed.

It was the middle of the night, with Atsel at a young 476. Not a raid for once but a break in — a thief, they thought, rising from bed with a start and staring into glowing eyes, sharp as a cat in the wild. Atsel felt the hand over their face before they could scream, and a promise being whisperd in a voice as soft as the moonlight. "Not here for harming, young prince." They barely understood the language spoken and yet, it filtered through, like it had been lost knowledge that lingered in wait for use. "But you need to wake yourself up." The fight came fast, then, and quick; the Carevic gave as much as they could before a device fell from the invader's satchel and rolled to the floor. Then, the waking truly began.

Kixipole had kept within its own universe many of the old ways. The stories of Straz, the efforts of wildness. But what Atsel watched unfold on projections of light within their chambers were anything but traditions and kindness. The ravages of war, the turmoil of take over. Atsel had always understood that violence was a difficult thing to stomach, in a way, but watching gave their stomach a twist they hadn't expected. And that only became worse when their heart lodged into their chest as they watched the truth: their weapons, used to strike down children, used to steal from parents and force them into shackles and slavery. Faces, then, Atsel could nearly recall. From other nights, from other battles. People who had come to the castle in search of something and found only death. Wanting no more of it, the Carevic tried to fight on; but the light would not come and their orbs fell to the sight before knees met the ground.

The truth would be found, the young thief said, if the prince simply looked hard enough. And it was the last thing the stranger could say before Ortasi came in the room and darkness tore their head clean off their shoulders. It took weeks for the blood to leave the stones. It took months before Atsel could even try to sleep again. But, when they did, something was new there; like another story playing out, Atsel began to dream of a place far off and familiar. Words that sang to them and an air that made tears roll down their cheeks. The scent of salt seas and mountain soil. The warmth of something in the heart. And then, the violence; each time, Atsel's eyes would try to turn from the pain of what happened and focus instead on a shadow, on a figure that loomed on the edge of a shore and listened. And then, the Carevic would wake with a start, falling from their bed and feeling their heart race.

If the prince simply looked hard enough...

The problem with a Dynasty is the secrets have too many places to hide. Each night, Atsel began to search, finding excuses to need to stay in different locations, in different palaces and stations. Each night, nothing came but new rumors, new stories and possibilities, and then Atsel would sleep and watch dreams again. The first true clue, the first notion of a fact, came simply then: Ekimi mentioning a dream of chaos and fighting, of salt seas and mountain soils. It was too familiar, too real, and when next Atsel slept, it was Ekimi's face on one of the bodies falling.

The downfall of using a dimensional weakness is that, any sakti or technology powerful enough to harness it is also under its affect. And as the new alignment of the planets came into focus, Atsel grew more and more aware of the strangeness of the Dynasty, the palace and their own family. So, they began to plan, to harvest an idea. And that proved almost unnessary.

On a search for a dagger that had come to dreams, one that stabbed before filling with crystal and light, Atsel stumbled into the a chamber normally locked, only to find soldiers who had tried to attack the palace the night before. Only, they were without armor now, and they huddled with their children and Atsel heard what their own palace guard was saying: "Only once more, in a few moons. Then you can go free. No use fussin' when the end is so near, is there? Less your cedo there wants to be a plaything." The sickness the night of the watch came back to Atsel, then, and there was nothing that could be done; the guard was downed in a moment's notice and Atsel was letting their orbs fly to tear the chamber asunder. The slaves were liberated, charging through a broken wall, and Atsel took to fighting their way through the halls. Or, they intended to, before they saw a brunt and beast of a subject come wandering through.

Blue MoonsBlue moons / Eternities
The ScionsThe Scions / Zodiacs
MomentsMoments / Time Flow
Scion SaktiScion Sakti / Zodiac Vessel
InfinityInfinities / Eternity Creation
AfterlifeThe Afterlife / Inner Dimension
AsyAsy / Legendary Worlds
SpaceFiziya / Formative Years
CabiCabi / Sacred Key
SparkNanta / Endless Light
PWRMasina / Dynamic Light
ApexTocka / Star Essence
Die Wati / Pale Rider
Sun Vasel / Cosmic Order
Vein Ostium / A Gateway
Vide Nturi / Empty Spaces
Gravis Tacija / Gravity Well
Eat Xware / Eternal Hunger
Mem Cenje / Tribute Worlds
Twi Sumrak / Half-Lights
Her Xaro / Orbit Gem
Sade Sade / Nimbus Growth
Cis Blivs / New Breaks
Clau Avslu / Event Horizon
Orb Sfera / Cosmic Orbs
Sky Kula / Stellar Ambit
Draa Bacti / World Trajectory
Tort Praxi / Meteor Shots
Toss Cnost / Universal Track
Syndra Zirme / Force of Will
Box Lisce / Eternal Reservoir
Usvo Usvo / Soaked Up
Nomi Nomi / Cosmic Sustenance
Izuc Izuc / Galaxy Brain
LvlUp Comtin / Heartened Dark
Zasus Zasus / A Dark Devour
Krug Znica / Scion Emblems
Bios Vzae / Scion Links
Mime Harma / Scion Merging
Spos Spos / Scion Shapes
Vodov Vodov / Scion Host
Dolz Dolz / Eternal Blessing
Semok Semok / Boundless Power
Besmr Besmr / Immortal Cores
Carx Carx / Star Cycles
Sakti Sakti / Magic Wellspring
Xesis Xesis / Always Growing
Dvos Dvos / Ineffable Sky

Name Atsel Lesinar & Ortasi Lesinar

Day & Age 03 Janzel & 479

Height & Weight 362 CM & 127KG

Home Planet Xemabu (Precious Wings)

Residence Vosxod Selsele Palace


⚝ nelum ceiux was one of four stars that formed an asterism known roughly as "the garden" near the collective. they are siblings and the only straz to have ever existed, with nelum being the second youngest; the other three are bozur, dayla and ruza.

⚝ the birth of the straz created the endless war of light versus darkness in the universes. the paragons, who thrived in darkness and shadows, were constant enemies of the straz no matter where they wandered. not all paragons are evil, however, just as not all a straz does is soft. the damndest thing that straz did unto the paragons themselves was to force them to be born into the flesh of the would-be living — to learn to respect the true birth from darkness into something more. for this, they resent the straz and in the end, an elder paragon named taro was the one to find the way to whisper into aviti's ear how to break the straz apart.

⚝ ortasi is motile while atsel is ocytic and their bodies are represented as such — as in, ortasi has static sexual organs while atsel does not. neither has been raised to truly comprehend the nature of their forms, however, and nelum was never a creature of truly tangible force to associate directly with any physical form that matters.

⚝ like all humanoids in dast aker, atsel is uniquely designed internally. they can regenerate their inner organs, thanks to a benefit of having three hearts. their nose contains an extra minor vomeronasal organ that, along with rostrocaudal pores produces mechanoreceptors to accompany the electroreceptors their veins embody to enhance their senses.

⚝ ortasi rules over the warriors refered to as the batza which are front line warriors that move mighty with their general. atsel, though left in the palace, actually has their own section of the royal army as well: the waltz which are more mystical soldiers who move with the scions that atsel has used for some battles.

⚝ along with influencing the waltz, atsel is the power source behind all the artillery of the dynasty. every blade, pistol and vessel is fueled by a perpetual energy that draws from atsel's core, which is part of what makes the ceravic so necessary to keep secret and far removed from the rest of the world.

⚝ as carevic, atsel speaks in the royal third person like the rest of the dynasty's leaders. the terms lugal, ensi and sar-ri are both roughly similar to the terms 'we' and 'one'. they are the acceptable terms atsel may use to speak.

⚝ as an ocytic royal, atsel is a purely sky spirit, giving way to the most delicate and light form of body along with a rather small stature despite the power to resist and enhance to withstand anything they need to.

⚝ the Straz would gift the origin species of onosay and xorsanea with enhanced natures, including immortality for a select few. this is why they were killed slowly, every century, so that the gifts they gave would weaken over time. onosay was crafted with eight immortal species and xorsanea with four immortal species. both universes also share common animals as frequent as birds, dogs, cats or rabbits on earth.

⚝ the original 24 scions of the dimension the Straz created are still the ones that all civilizations within it look to in the stars. each rotation of 30 degrees, roughly, manifests a new scion of birth but every birth is paired with the other scion of that period. that is: nevin births also relate to sumur as their negative sides and shadow scions.

⚝ the universes of onosay and xorsanea both operate in orbits that mirror something like n-point circle. onosay holds six planets: three outer planets and three inner, with numerous moons for each planet. xorsanea holds eight planets: three inner planets and five, large, outer planets with numerous moons. both universes are roughly 28 million years old making them fairly advanced for such young clusters. both universes are filled with superplanets on scope of the milky way: as all sentient species are much, much larger, the planets themselves reflect such.

⚝ originally, both universes were created from the husks of chaotic beasts trying to torture the civilizations already living on sparse planets near warm stars. of these, only 14 of the planets are still inhabited; another 24 have been incapable of sustaining life for as long.

⚝ The Straz believe in a kind of multi-verse connection more limited than other celestial beings recognize. They call this multi-verse Dvansfera which is bound by the notion that events within these dimensions and universes bleed into affect of one another; this is why there are similar physiologies, metholodigies, food and even some languages that can interact. Dvansfera is the root of what became Norse cosmology, though Dvansfera is based on a more expansive notion: 12 Influences.

dast aker itself is built on an hybrid economy of commodity finance and precious metals. xemabu is perhaps the wealthiest of all the planets, with onosay as the wealthiest of all the universes touched by the dynasty, in both goods and coinage, as the central hub for trade through all of the extended dynasty. their main export is luxury goods and bespoke crafts, with their main import being tax gains and offerings. as citizens are allowed to use sakti for their property and wealth, the entire of onosay seems to live beyond poverty — but few live as well as the elite of the dynasty.

⚝ socially, dast aker's discriminations are based on merit and "class". the oligarchy allows for the legitimazation of various syndicates and guilds for warriors, sakti practitioners and various crafts while encouraging public works projects that enforce a unity of the dynasty. their only true taboo is bad hygeine, and social ills include shapeshifting, fixed prices, and gambling.

⚝ though there are still four seasons in dast aker, the three suns rotationally alter the lengths of seasons; roughly, one seasons lasts for 3 years, giving way to a full rotation of 1728 degrees — or, one full cycle of the universe per season. each day is a degree, and there are still roughly 30 days per two scions, creating 3 year seasonal cycles. their temperatures are less harsh in most portions of planets, however, meaning seasonal drifts don't mean going without harvest all 3 years of winter and so on; it only alters where the farms migrate. it also creates plenty of room for public works projects when farmers choose not to migrate for the season and want to still work. a new 'month' is marked as a solar dance and a new year is marked as a lunar bloom.

⚝ there are six noble houses of xemabu, the original six celove. each of them is named after a raptor species and handles an aspect of rule under the dynasty even today. the six houses are: lesinar, kostol, orao, misar, sokol, and zecar.

⚝ the planet of xemabu is a large and atsel has never even seen the edges of castellumoven before this grand attempt at an escape. citizens from all over have sent worship and gifts to the carevic but none have met atsel in the flesh save on very, very rare occasions.

⚝ carries on their person two great chasms just to hold all the materials they require. somehow, whatever they really need is usually found somewhere in the bag.

⚝ also stole two of the more important artifacts from the palace, which are both used to harness energy from atsel and to fuel the weapons and vehicles of the royal army. without them, the kingdom is, essentially, on a time limit before becoming nearly powerless.

⚝ atsel's one true talent they have been allowed to harvest is a unique and singular form of combat known as daimas. daimas is a hybrid style that mixes dance and combat, utilizing weighted slings, flails, chains, whips, silks and fluid movement. it is both a performance style and a combat class

⚝ the revich (Monarch Over All) for Xemabu has done all they can to erase the knowledge of Straz across all dimensions and universes, leaving instead the name of Rexin Stars on all record books which, roughly, means Begging stars to mock their image as defeated and demure beings.

⚝ one of atsel's few joys in the halls of the palace are celebrations of holidays. though they cannot actually celebrate with the general public, there are grand traditions that even the royals abide by within their walls for the days of celebration throughout the dimension:

  ❇ 08 Dlan, a civic holiday known as AnagenAnagen. It commemorates the dawn of new growth. Associated with rebirth, sakti and private festivities. Tradition calls for public story telling, charitable donations, exchanges of treats and playful duels.

  ❇ 01 Taaji, a spiritual holiday known as LinisteLiniste. It commemorates an old storm, mental clarity and spiritual calm. Associated with clouds, yellow flowers and obsidian stones. Tradition brings about new alliances, declarations of peace and family gatherings.

  ❇ 06 Narijin, a cultural holiday known as Ratsurasturutsar. It commemorates the inversion of heirarchy. Associated with games, trading places and playful metaphors. Tradition says people are honored as lords, children are bosses, and playful mockery of the royals move through the lands.

  ❇ 11 Fenjer, a spiritual holiday known as ApedagAp'edag. It commemorates a cure for disease. Associated with health, eternity, redemption, light and garnets. Tradition calls for seven sun cycles featuring tests of strength, exchange of compliments, playing of instruments and sexual indulgence.

  ❇ 09 Vliku, a civic holiday known as QamariQamari. It commemorates a bet and a new moon. Associated with eternity, wisdom, style and mystery. Tradition calls for public races, parties, contests of wits or cleverness and acts of daring.

  ❇ 03 Jandzel, a civic holiday known as TeomaTeoma. It commemorates the birth of twin horizons. Associated with birth, promises, will, beauty and power. Tradition calls for contests of strength, dance performances, games of chance, fields of flowers and an exchange of gifts or vows.

  ❇ 05 Ailo, a cultural holiday known as RehemaRehema. It commemorates compassion and sky spirits. Associated with the moons, night time and communication. Tradition calls for celebrations from dusk until dawn and includes an exchange of gifts, bright decorations, face painting and light festivals.

  ❇ 05 Milenka, a civic holiday known as SumphrnSumphorni. It commemorates collective harmony, heart clarity and grounding habits. Associated with the horned ones. Tradition includes public nudity, prayers for well being and festivals of paper.

  ❇ 10 Azdaj, a civic holiday known as TajnaTajna. It commemorates the great mystery of the old ones. Associated with discovery, reflection and carbuncles. Tradition calls for public parades, athletic competition and forgiveness of debts.

  ❇ 12 Da'Mras, a civic holiday known as FiruziFiruzi. It commemorates a victory for all. Associated with colorful flowers, poros, kindness and rewards. Traditions call for celebrations to last for five sun cycles and to include: a new tree and animal honored for each cycle, exchange of gifts, public singing, public dancing and grand feasts.

⚝ though Straz age, their constant growth of energy keeps them from being weighed down by the culture of knowledge, time and space. atsel, as a living flesh, has learned the weight of growing and maturing however and as such has lost touch with many of the gifts that even they should hold onto as the bright singularity. if all were bridged again, there could be a new development as Straz nelum.

⚝ has rarely been allowed to interact with anyone but two royals who were interested in exploring marriage before the dynasty struck out to destroy their monarchies. as such, atsel has very few experiences with others and has only learned about the universes through lessons and teachers. some of them have been kinder, and more truthful, than others, but atsel still has very awkward ideas about how things function.

⚝ atsel is still a virgin because the belief of the dynasty is that sex is not only blessed but divine; one's body is given to another in an action of godliness and the fear is that for atsel's flesh to be elevated to 'divine' status would unlock the spells and tools that have locked nelum into the form; since the other straz are not left with even a fraction of their powers, it is only atsel and ortasi that have had to remain virginal. otherwise, most of society is rather open on notions of sex and relationships — marriage is rare, on xemabu, at the least.

⚝ despite only interacting with palace officials, atsel is well trained in some endeavours they enjoy such as dancing, singing, painting and collections of fabrics and stones. atsel likes stones that catch the light more than any with true mystical sense, but their fabrics are typically mystical and better at keeping their identity a secret. atsel also enjoys ceremony and makeup — they have a great talent with painting their face and body.

⚝ atsel has been raised with such reverance for sakti and fear of their own abilities and spirit that they are an extremely superstitious person. some of the superstitions that they have learned from locals who work in the palace are:

  ☼ a raised voice near green flora on days of harvest will spoil the full season of food for the land.

  ☼ weapons near water on equinoxes causes spirits to taint and poison the blade; one needs a lucky flower to weild it ever again.

  ☼ food in private chambers while moonlight shines causes painful wounds on the legs.

  ☼ hopping creatures near white flowers are signs of good luck.

  ☼ if you whisper in a rabbit's ear while thinking of someone, they will carry your words through dimensions.

  ☼ wishes cast in abandoned homes with the rising of the second sun will always come true.

  ☼ playing with flowers in the middle of a storm will curse the childbearers you care for.

The Family (Real & False)
Friends & Companions