"Where brilliance is good and madness is better..."
Helovia Info
Helovia opened in February 2012! We are an active fantasy equine RPG
Where once the world narrowed into naught but gray dust and desolation, the gods called for life. Wielding the elements of fire and light, dark and wind, earth and water, spark and time, they have created Helovia. The realm is set within the mythical globe of Loorien, a planet rich with all variety of creatures and blessed with all manner of magic. Originally populated by nomadic, tribal characters, they've since grown into massive empires saturated with culture and history. Separated into four distinct segments of Helovia, called "The Regions," each band of horse strong enough and capable enough, took up the power and responsibility of leadership. Unicorns, old, wise and mysterious, took to the north, hidden in forests of mists and shadows and rarely making themselves known beyond their cliffs of the World's Edge. Equines, vast, organized and militaristic, split into two, one group went north to the Windtossed Foothills and the other group went south to the Dragon's Throat. Pegasus remained nomadic, making their homes in various parts of The Wilds in a migratory manner. For many generations, the land was peaceful and calm, but peace was never the way of the gods. With a clash of argument, war and bloodshed massacred Helovia, and in the aftermath, the realm was eerily quiet. Now, as newcomers sweep into this land, they are met with the lingering bitterness of the gods and the struggle to reclaim what was lost. Nothing remains safe or certain while sorcerers and soldiers alike brood and bide their time for revenge, honor and glory.
Site Wide Plots
Kaos :: The Beginning of the End ☼ - 6/2017 - Kaos placed Helovia in a time-bubble for a short period of time, but the Helovian gods are fighting back. But Kaos is powerful- far more powerful than anyone thought. This may be the beginning of the end of Helovia as we know it.
Kisamoa :: A New Kind of Kaos ☼ - 3/2017 - Kisamoa asks Helovians to help him restore the Spectral Marsh. Which side will you choose?
Invasions :: All Out War ☼ - 5/2/16 - New layout and the brand new invasion rules are up! Thank you for your patience and we look forward to getting started with this new adventure.
The Rift :: Gods Do Die ☼ - 8/2015 - Helovia Gods are saving the Rift from corrupt gods! Can Helovians band together against these foreign deities?
The Literal Ship ☼ - 2/8/15 - Oh no! You have to pair up for Valentine's day!
Sky Island :: Murder ☼ - 10/25/14 - Vesta has been found dead on the island, and the gods have called to you to solve the murder!
Sky Island :: Peace ☼ - 7/7/14 - An island has appeared in the sky! Clouds carry Helovians from the Veins to the sky.
Restoration :: We Welcome the Dawn ☼ - 9/21/13 - The sun has finally risen on this day, giving the land new light, but the Time God and the Sun God have yet to be seen.
Endless Night :: Broken Magic Plot ☼ - 8/30/13 - The earth god has returned and is walking across Helovia to heal the land. Every area can now be considered lush and prosperous, but the sun has still not risen.
☼ - 7/19/13 - The moon has risen in the sky, heralding the return of the Goddess of the moon. Lamp trees which light the paths have grown brighter, moon flowers which grow in dark places have begun to grow and prosper and the world is brighter, filled with a new hope.
Endless Night :: Dead Magic Plot ☼ - 6/22/13 - The gods of Helovia, in order to protect the world, have disappeared into the rift, leaving the world sunless, moonless and magic-less in their absence. Only the herdlands have a source of light, but lamp-trees with glowing leaves and branches sporadically line the popular roads and paths from place to place.
Doppleganger Plot ☼ - 6/20/13 - The God of Time is still struggling to close the rift though which the dopplegangers have come. He has requested that his brothers and sister assist in closing this hole, but without knowing why it opened, the task is proving difficult. Magic still remains faulty and hard to control, but the herdlands continue to be places of refuge for those who are fortunate enough to call these lands home.
ORANGEMOON cools off the lands with a a viscious force. Colder than normal, a sign of things to come during Frostfall, Helovia is bathed in a rich tropical lushness - albiet a cold one. The coastlines of the Dragon's Throat are pelted constantly by tidal waves, and the desert climate is humid but chilly. Ice begins to form early in the Aurora Basin leaving the winding trails slick and dangerous. The mists of the World's Edge coat everything in a glistening crystalline shine which encourages mould to grow everywhere. The Spectral Marsh is the only area which remains fertile, blissfully temperature and lush.
Cotm
Character of the Month for
June, 2017
WEAVER, Corporal of the Aurora Basin, is a relatively recent addition to Helovia and has taken it by storm. Branded with the seal of Death on her chest, intrigue and interest follow both her past and present. Though she is assuredly beautiful, her sometimes sharp personality reveals that there is more to this uni-peg hybrid than meets the eye. Proving herself able on the battlefield in the Basin’s warrior ranks, we can’t wait to see her test her mettle against the looming Kaos happenings! Congratulations!
Helovia RPG was created by Tamme and Blu and coded by Tamme also known as Schwartze. All coding, palettes and imagery are copyrighted to the website and are not for use outside of Helovia. Thank you to our ServerMaster for hosting Helovia. A special thanks goes to Neo for all of her coding help and fixing Tamme's errors, Boom, for her loyal service and creation of the Time God, and to Ali for her consistent contributions and dedication.
You leave the demon dog behind and roam down the other side of the hill. A copse of trees, dark and black are nearby, all covered in heinously charcoal leaves. The ground softens to something gooey and sticky, and you try not to upset your lunch from your stomach (if you ate). Though the journey this time was short, the destination was no less frightening.
From the trees fall massive spiders on silken webs that cover from tree to tree. Eight of them rest on branches and on the bark, and a single king lowers himself fully to the ground. He propels himself up onto his hind four legs, raising his body until his multiple eyes can see at nearly eye level to the smaller of the group.
Lethal, white pincers click together, spraying venom that dripped down his hairy chin. Two forelegs lash out with sticky, hairy ends and the voice that comes from his open, book lungs is raspy and gross. "I am sssssilas the ssspider," he huffed, blinked his eyes and clicking his fangs.
"Daphnee and Harald are kind compared to... -click - myself..." he hummed. "Do you dare - click click - asssk me for a prize?"
Well, I had heard of a place, where the sun never bellows and the moon takes place hovering behind the dark clouds. The glowing pumpkins stare hard at you with no ease and all you see are the bones of the dead. You see, I barely knew of this land that I had come to, for I had only arrived and I didn't attend on getting frightened on the first week of my stay. But I came here, to the haunted place, because I heard of the treats the tricksters were giving away. No, I would not be surprised if I did not get anything, because I was a wolverine, amongst a bunch of idiot horses. Yet, I had become friends with most, and gained a home beneath The Gallant. Sir Midas was my master now and I would make sure I served him well.
As for Halloween, I didn't take much pride in it. I was not the one to dress myself up in a silly costume, but this year, I had done well. I thought I was showing my warrior skills off well, seeing as I was a machine for battle. I had my arrows and my bow, my vest and my gloves. Look closer, my scar really tops it off well. I had actually surprised my own self with such a thing, I might as well keep my vest for my up-coming battles. It was not worth just one night. I've always attended to get my a battle vest anyway, since I've been in so many fights lately, I might as well.
I walked over a hill, seeing a half-torn female dog walking away. I started to greet her but decided otherwise that it might not be my greatest decision. A sigh escaped my black mouth as I continued down and then up to another hill, this time meeting a large spider. I'd never seen such a spider in my lifetime and I was starting to believe Helovia was a very strange place. Pegasi, unicorns, and now gigantic spiders that stand on their hind legs. "Defiantly strange alright." I thought to myself and walked closer to the spider. I sat down on my rump and stared hard into all eight eyes, glaring at him. "Trick me or treat me." I told him lowly.
With a fire in my bones and the sweet taste of kerosene
Dripping in green gunk, Ampere could not have been any more disgusted. She'd fallen in the marshes, of the spectral kind, on her search for another halloween creature and had sunken into the muddy, cruddy bog. Brown and black mud caked her shape, sludging particularly against her wings which remained folded against her back, too soggy to fly now. The mud humped up like a shell because of it, the lines of her feathers leaving fissures in the sludge like a tortoise shell pattern.
Green algae had swirled around her and stained most of her muddy shape a hideous baby puke hue, further adding to the turtle appearance. Trekking her way out of the bog had leant more dark mud to her knees and hocks and all the horseflesh below, cracking as it dried so it looked like scales. The bog had even glued her mane to her neck like some solid wave, barely visible, and had done the same to her tail which poked out behind her like a nub.
In her anger, she walked just as awkwardly as a turtle too.
That's when, waddling, she finally saw the spider and all his clicking and clacking. Irritated beyond belief and yanking her hooves as they stuck to the ground below, Ampere had lost whatever bit of manners she had ever had. "There was an old lady who swallowed a bird. How absurd to swallow a bird! She swallowed the bird to catch the spider..." Ampere, mildly delirious it would seem (perhaps the mud had unknown effects...) chanted the verse of the old nursery rhyme to the behemoth arachnid. That she appeared like a turtle and not the bird she usually thought of herself was lost to her, but wanting to squash the spider and everything in bogs was not.
[Ampere is dressed as a mud turtle]
A M P E R E DREAMING OF_R E V E L R Y
bronzehalo.deviantart.com
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
The other creature, a dog, cursed me. I couldn't see completely and a cloud of dust had been following me. I thrust my wings out and flapped them, attempting to flap away the dust. It pushed it back some but it came right back, like a boomerang. The sound it made was annoying and weird. It kind of gave me a sense of safety within it, though. I don't really know, it was really weird and strange. This place was weird and strange.
All the sudden, I felt my hooves sticking to the ground. I looked down to see black goo. Some of the dust storm appeared to be getting stuck in it but otherwise, it was just a nuisance. No advantage to me for the dust continued to swarm. I look up to see spiders dropping from the trees and my eyes widen. My ears flatten and I turn my head.
Suddenly, the daddy comes out and holy-freaking-thistle-meadow is he creepy. He speaks and I cock my head at an angle. The cowboy hat upon my head turns with me and my left eye looks at the spider, my other remaining concealed. I once again whip my tail, and my cowboy attire moves as my body shifts. The sheriff badge rattles against my leather coat and my chaps billow with the chilling breeze.
"And so you say. I've fought off tougher rattlesnakes than you, partner. I'd love to see the gunpowder you shoot." I whip my wings and glare at the spider.
[[Cue the western music! Haha. Speirling is still in her western cowboy/sherrif attire.]]
We passed by the rotting dog after we met Harald, stopping to only hear the dogs name, Daphnee. We payed no attention to her, only to the path before us. Sameira and I, still dressed in my pretty costume of pink and gold, wandered to the next 'friend'. There were already a few gathered, and I struggled to look at the giant creature. When my amber gaze laid down upon the creature, I could not help but gasp. It was both horrendous beauty and a lovely, sickeningly twisted creature. I trembled at the sight of the rising, hair legs and the venom that ran rivers down the creature's chin. He claimed himself to be Silas, a demon that was far worse than the two before him.
I giggle, having seen far worse in the Marsh. He did not scare me as much as the floating, faceless bodies that would drift through the muddled waters. I open my little lips, singing a verse from a lullaby. I make sure my tone is haunting, an eerie twist added to my words. "Down comes the rain to wash the spider out..!" I smile in a sickening way, wondering if I could scare the scariest. Let him see what lies inside! A delicate outer shell with an eerie, dark center. I look down at Sameira in her little green frog suite, looking as frustrated as always. She was obviously getting sick of the costumes, but I thought it was fun.
The tricks and the treats were something that kept me on edge. I constantly waited, standing on my toes for a curse or a treasure to keep. I hoped that this would not mark the beginning of my embarrassment, a time where the curse would keep me hidden with my head held low. Instead, I wished for a treat to keep a little smile on my face as I marched back to the Marsh, stocked with goods galore.
"words words words"
[they're still the princess (amara) and the frog (sameira)]
10-22-2013, 09:08 PM (This post was last modified: 10-22-2013, 09:12 PM by Oxy.)
Quite pleased with yourself after your run in with the half-dead dog, you carry on your merry way. Your hula skirt rustles behind you as you move, your coconut bra pulling uncomfortably against your chest. Around your horns, the lei of flowers still rustles and blows in the heat. You follow the others who are brave enough to continue on, stepping over the hill and down into a murky mess. You're quite alright with the muck. It matches your already dirty and unkept hide. As you listen to the spider hissing, you furrow your brow in annoyance. You don't want to be a hula girl. You want to go back to your little swamp of death. “Just give me my stuff,” you grumble, staring at the thing. Hopefully he'll hurry up so you can move on.
Overall, you guess the costume stuff isn't so bad. You just don't see why it has to be you. You could be doing so many more things right now- fighting, getting high, sleeping. Any of those are higher on your to-do list than wander around Halloween land to gather up trinkets you don't even think you want. But, you guess since you're here you might as well make the most of it. Looking around a moment, you take in all the other fools that are trick-or-treating with you. There are too many. Far too many. This place is too crowded. You hope you can keep your cool. In particular, you snort at a cowgirl that seems especially keen at harassing the spider. If she'd just shut up, maybe you could get out of here.
Look down, the ground below is crumbling
Look up, the stars are all exploding
Cloaked in the Dragon robe she had so carefully crafted; with ochre-red legs, and so too her face, Africa came back through the dark forest again in just the same direction that had guided her into oblivion only hours before. The trees began to thin drastically around her while the unsettling darkness hugged too tightly around her shivering form. Cautiously she passed right back into the unnatural field of corn, endless it seemed, though she could not see above the bristly heads- only struggle amongst their midst until perhaps she might stumble once more onto the creepy old trail between.
Soon enough the corn split to reveal that for which she had been searching. Africa could not tell how many hours had passed, and adrenaline pumped a constant stream of fresh energy through her hot veins. Africa felt beneath her weary tread a sudden drop- a slope in the trail, and slowed a little to consider it as she continued. About her swinging stride swished the emerald blanket of Dragon green, and she felt comforted by its weight; its warmth, as the air around her was so strangely cold.
Silas, perched easily amongst the reed cloak across her back, chirped quietly as a dark clutter of trees loomed ahead- visible only because the path guided them towards it. Africa’s ears wavered curiously, drawn back by the sound of her mate, though only for a moment. She continued forward hesitantly, heaving breath testing the air for any hint of what might lay there, hidden amongst the trees.
As she crept between the first, the ground seemed to shift below her hooves, to cling as they again lifted and Africa’s throat rumbled with sudden apprehension, fear fuelled by her lack of understanding. The leaves which teased and brushed her balking face were black in the half light, charcoal she thought as they caught and crumbled in the spiked fronds athwart her neck.
Silas gripped tightly as his partner began to fret, and plucked the strange leaves away from her when they snagged in her costume.
Suddenly enormous spiders began to swing down from the branches upon strings of silk. Above her head Africa could see their labyrinth webs draped all throughout the canopy, and should not a voice have suddenly spoken, the nervous young horse might have fled their presence altogether.
One spider; far grander than the rest lowered himself completely to the ground and rose then, to stand before Africa and Silas upon his hind legs. Africa watched wearily, unable to avoid the glare of his multiple shining eyes. Truly he was utterly revolting and accordingly, she cocked her face left so that her left eye might be spared the grotesque display as it unfolded.
“I am Sssssilas the ssspider” It revealed between hideous clicks and a heinous stare. Africa felt her stomach turn, but remained in place, motionless none the less. It continued in the same manner, referring to a duo she had never heard overcuriously her brow quirked. “A prize?” Africa answered, surprise leaking into her bewildered expression. She continued slowly then, unsure whether the creature- the spider, before her was preparing some form of trap or the like. “Yes…please?” perhaps she would regret the decision.
I don’t understand my behavior
This knife is my savior
My only wish is to be heard
I just don’t care anymore
One day I’ll settle the score with myself
I walk forward, leaving behind that damned dead dog. My body is now covered in feathers. I look like a hideous bird that got its wings plucked off by a cat. This makes my mood even fouler as I walk over the next hill. I’m still stuck in my ridiculous costume, with the mask and ridiculous bracelets. But rather than just having my cape, I know am the raven. I don’t know why I keep moving forward and not turn around and get the hell out of this place. Instead I just keep going onward, curious as to what awaits ahead of me. If I see another undead dog. I notice the landscape change around me, there are a thick trees forming around me. Then I feel something sticky beneath my hooves
. “Oh how fantastic! First I’ve got feathers, and now I’ve got mysterious shit on my hooves, this is exactly what I want.” I shout as I step about, trying to get out of the soft substance. Can this get any worse? No, it definitely can. I could be dead. That thought makes my situation seem more like a pebble than a boulder. Off in the distance, I can hear voices. Silently I approach, to see if it’s a different monster. And low and behold, I am right! This time it’s a giant spider, which is naturally is something I want to see.
I listen to the beat and flick my tail in irritation. Others speak before me, and I stand there watching everyone else. This time I choose not to go with flowery and taunting words. I’m not in the mood to be dramatic.“Trick or treat,” is all I say.
Leaving the graveyard of horrors was a bit of relief to the grey stallion, things just were not right with anything in there. Many left with similar maladies or hindrances causing much embarrassment for some while others seemed indifferent to the curses. Others had managed to sneak away bearing treasure from the encounter only to in a way taunt the rest of them. Moving along the winding path it took some time before his strides were no longer painfully slow and taxing thanks to the lovely gift that the mutt Daphne had bestowed upon him. The mass entanglement of the fine spider silk had covered his entire body head to hoof and despite his attempt to remove it stuck with him.
As soon as the curse had fallen weak he made sure to strip down out of his costume discarding it hastily as he made use of the harsh scratchy grass to rub away whatever was left over on his pelt. Once again he found himself in a similar situation as he had after his encounter with Harard the ravenish creature that smelled as foul as it appeared. Thinking on the spot he managed to come up with another great costume idea as he moved to keep up with the others.
Above him the charcoal trees creaked and shuddered blocking not only the moonlight but also much visibility. It was as if the forest was trying to keep anyone who entered from seeing what danger lay ahead. Silver orbs focused directly on where he was going as his warrior training began to seep back into his step. Calm precise footsteps, open mind, focus... listen to what the earth is telling you and trust your instincts. As the darkness faded his hooves touched something soft and sticky, almost jello like but with the ability to stick your feet into the earth. Other figures began to come into sight around him ebbing from the darkness like shadows, only problem was they were not shadows!
Stepping back he felt the fabric tighten around his windpipe uncomfortably, why had he decided to wear something so long anyway. Leaning forward again to relieve the pressure he reached out with his teeth to grip the black and burgundy cape as he pulled it from the muck underfoot to return it properly situated over his haunches. Distaste grew as the figures nearby revealed their true identities making his skin itch at the thought. Spiders, giant spiders, no gigantic spiders roamed the treetops as the largest lowered himself to the ground to speak. The irritating clicking and hissing filled the air as his ear flicked back along his cranium totally not in the mood to deal with spiders. The webs covering his body was enough, now giant spiders! His luck was really not going well lately he thought refusing to back down from the creature. His stature was easily larger than a few of the others that had been caught up in this crap, he was not afraid but was starting to get quite ticked off at these things.
"I guess you expect us to say trick or treat." He stated bluntly his orbs meeting the spider's many eyes. How a creature could have so many was beyond him, it was just plain creepy. Jaw clenched he could feel the two elongated fangs resting along his gums mimicking the features of his costume creation. Maybe they might come in handy after all he thought chuckling softly allowing his tongue to trace over the contours of the fangs as they rested upon each of his upper final incisors. Glancing around he mentally took in who all was surrounding him as he tried to come up with a plan should things get ugly. His luck had better damn well turn around he was really tired of dealing with spiders or anything to do with them.
ooc: Ciceron is dressed as Dracula with his long black/burgundy cape and his fangs.
NAO</style> Treading this lightless night I will pay karma's price</style>
""
After the encounter with the devilish dog had come quickly in the end. In her dark basket lied a special little treat that the creature known as Daphnee had decided upon granting her. She was surprised that she wasn't cursed with a twirling vine for a tail, or sticky webbing across her body, unlike a few of the others that had remained to ask for a treat. She flipped her leonine tail and moved up the hill and across it's top. Her feet finally treading at the foot of it's steepness and her hooves fell in a sickly and oozing terrain. She looked down, but the blackness that hid it only made her a little less terrified. Her eyes wandered from it to the charcoal trees that surrounded her now.
The filly willingly began treading in a slow and arithmetic pace to catch up with a few that had come treading across here as well. Her eyes wide with wonder at all the spooky and ominous creations that lurked in these devilish lairs. She tipped her head to see the silver webs that were planted among the shadowed timber, and her eyes widened at the small, hairy predators that sat in the center of them. As she quickened her leisurely pace, she noticed as she dwelled deeper into the woodlands, the arachnids were growing bigger and fiercer as they passed by in the center of their webs. Her throat felt parched and her guts churned with nauseous feelings.
With sudden relief swelling in her chest, she trotted up to the back of the pack of equine that stood before line of web patterned trees. The end of her small yet long journey perhaps? The dusty filly attempted to go through them, but decided it would have been best to see the commotion from the border. She retreated and began moving through the side, where timber lined up and the webs stood with their creatures. She gulped, and before she knew it her fake beard was caught in a thin sticky string that stood in front of her. She pulled back, before the thread suddenly broke, and quickly she hurried to the front. Her eyes rapidly falling onto the horrid sight of ginormous spiders. One, the largest of all stood in the center, it's eight eyes darting upon all the equines who tread in his lair.
He questioned if they would ask him for a trick or treat. Many did, others responded untraditionally. Nao herself stepped towards the fierce creatures and spoke "Mhm. Sir I-I'm not scared of you, so trick or treat!" She announced bodily to the king. She was daring for a filly dressed as a pirate. The hairs under her tied kerchief standing on end.
Hauntings have taken over Helovia, but the young dame has not ventured near them since hearing of them. It was not her place nor her desire, especially after witnessing a few of the 'tricks' placed on a few of the inhabitants. Though she did admit they were rather amusing, and almost wouldn't mind getting one if she were to receive the same curses as a few of them. She had lingered in the shadows for seasons now, friendless and lonely, but seeing no point in seeking out a solution for that problem. She had no particular place, aside from the Deep. Nostalgia brought her back time after time, the jingling trinkets in her mane and tail catching her attention and making her smile, unable to view them without wanting to return. On her breast a small metal flower bounced cheerfully, the motion so repetitive she didn't even notice it anymore. It reminded her of Argetlam, and she missed him terribly, but she was slowly getting used to having few friends.
It was rather easy to find the next ghoul, ghost, or whatever it was that was haunting Helovia. Mostly she just followed the cries of outrage, the shouts of joy of others. There was already a trickling trail of tricker-treaters trotting down the path towards the beckoning voice, sibilant and surreptitious. She trails after them, glass and wood clinking together in a nice harmony, endless locks trailing on the ground beside and behind her. The muck is not a bother to her, for her trinkets are not so low as to be sacrificed. Flowers bloom cheerily behind her despite the hallow's eve festivities, a comfort after seasons of distress and agony without them.
Ahead there is a small gathering, and she nearly trips on her short, ruffled purple dress as she slips in the muck. Curiously, Nayati points her deep crimson eyes at the arachnid that rises up around them, intrigued by the idea of a trick or even a treat should she be miraculously lucky. "Ask?" she queried softly, and gave a blink of her orbs. "I suppose I will ask, then," and she sits back with attentive eyes, wanting to know her fate. Maybe she, too, would get a cool little trick.
ooc: Nayati is dressed as Rapunzel <3 hoping this will get my muse flowing for her
the rose shadows said that they loved the sun, but they also loved the dark,
where their roots grew through the lightless mystery of the earth. the roses said: you do not have to choose.
Dezba jumped up on my back as we left the rotting dog, going down on the other side of the hill. I didn't know what I had expected, but the smell that was like a wall crashed on my face and I would've puked if equines had that ability. The soft dirt that had covered the hill turned into something disgustingly sticky and I had to fight against the ground to go on. Of course my bat-jaguar thought it was hilarious, and mocked me slightly. 'Stop it, or I won't use the treat I was given before,' I thought, and she immediately stopped. Both of us wanted her to grow faster, but for now it worked as a threat.
I looked up and my jaw dropped as I gazed over the scene. So. Many. Spiders. My eyes widened and I breathed faster, feeling my heart starting to race. Spiders were my absolute biggest fear and I couldn't help but feel like I was shrinking in front of the giant spiders. But one stood out.
I watched with open maw and wide-open eyes as the Spider King lowered himself to the ground, only to stand up on his hind legs to look at us. My heart was racing too fast now and I felt my legs turn into spaghetti, step by step. But at the same time I knew that this spider wouldn't give a vampire mare a treat if she showed herself weak.
Taking a deep breath, I man'd up and rose my head a little higher, trying not to die of a heart attack as I looked upon the spider. Dezba, on the other hand, sat on my back calm as a millpond and looked at the spider with curious eyes. She even looked around, giving me mental pictures of everyone around us. I didn't get a picture of my daughter though, she must've gone home after Daphnee. "I am Sssssilas the Ssspider." I froze, looking at the spider as he clicked his fangs that dripped poison. He terrified me, but I would not show myself weak. "Daphnee and Harald are kind compared to... -click - myself... Do you dare - click click - asssk me for a prize?" I swallowed and took another deep breath, slightly eyeing the rest of the spiders. "Trick or treat, Silas." I said, and it was clear that I tried hard to keep my voice steady. We had been lucky before, but would we be lucky again?
B ored after the coward had left us on the battlefield, we decided to explore this land that the other had brought us into. Dressed all in black, with a hood that ensured we could barely see and a small scythe tied into our banner, though lord knows why, we pushed ourselves onwards. Moving through a dense thicket of trees in the pitch black, twigs snapping and strange shadows being cast across the floor, any nervous soul would be sent running with their tail between their legs. But, oh no, not us! We loved being on the reapers time, and Halloween was our favourite season.
As the ground softened beneath our hooves, the sticky muck clogged up our hooves and made it difficult to move onwards smoothly. But, no matter, we had a feeling about this place, a certain connection, so we pushed on through the gooey sludge. We barley even batted an eyelid as a spider cascaded down from a tree upon its silvery web and nearly smacked me squarely in the face. We loved spiders, about as much as others hated them.
We came to a halt as we noticed the King lower himself down onto the ground, now this was interesting. We barely noticed the gathering of equines and other hybrids around us, they bore us no consequence or interest. Only the venomous arachnid in front us held our attention, with his spitting fangs and raspy voice, mentioning a prize.
“Greeting Silas. We know nothing of these others you mention, but may we mention what big fangs you have?” We rumbled, wanting to know more of this prize. “We would dare to ask you for treat and only hope that you wouldn’t issue us with a trick instead..”
Although we asked for no tricks, we wouldn’t be sorry if the others vessel was cursed beyond…
" " Fugue 307 words.
&CROWS WILL FLEE THE SCENE, AS IF TO REMIND ME HOW LONG ITS BEEN SINCE I'VE SEEN A DOVE.
10-24-2013, 08:41 AM (This post was last modified: 10-24-2013, 09:44 AM by Midas.)
Midas the one to see you through your darkest times
One might wonder where we are again. Well congrats to those that figured it out, because I sure haven’t. Fina and I find ourselves surrounded by horses, but not familiar lads and ladies of Helovia…most if not all were dressed in strange and sometimes alarming costumes—together we walk with strangers harmlessly forward. I glance back at my companion to find her balled up against my feathers, her own golden wings are shut tight; the lifelike serpents that seem born from her body, slither in the most chilling way along my two toned spine.
Orange. It’s easy to get your fill of that color.
Tiny wings on heels flutter up as we climb along a mucky goo pit. They strain to pull away, fearing dirt or goo I guess, or maybe both. A cape is latched across my shoulders and connecting to the center of steel that is lashed around my thick neck. Webs are becoming more and more visible as we go, someone screams and rears to strike them in the crowd. I cringe at the sight but move forward all the same.
At least until the really big spiders started falling….
A cry was whelped behind the folds of my throat, Fina shifted and instantly got defensive. Suddenly, a voice rose above the silence and slosh, we like the rest turn to see who spoke. Another spider, larger than the others and schooled in our tongue. Wondering if there would be any mercy, I replied, “I wish thee good eve, Silas; would thou aid us?”
OOC: Midas is still dressed as the greek god Hermes, and Fina is his living staff.
10-24-2013, 10:51 AM (This post was last modified: 10-24-2013, 10:53 AM by Reginald.)
Mother has left; she always does when the sky grows dark. Sometimes she stays near, other times she may travel to some other place to graze, to leave her sons in peace—but always she expects them tired and worn, and lost in the labyrinth of sleep. She does not know how Reginald rises with the moon; she is unaware that he slips through the shadow of the night, his body burning too feverishly to allow him peaceful rest. He is not peaceful.
Reginald loves the night—and it is love of its own kind, because he is passionate. Something shaggy and heavy sits atop his head, something degrading and infuriating—but Reginald does not mind its presence, for his mind is for other things. The hills melt underneath his progressively steadying gait, his strengthening limbs. Even so, he cannot run; he chooses not to. Running is only a short spurt of speed, which only leads to hours of shackling weakness that leaves the young child breathless and wheezing, his heart fluttering dangerously in his chest. His passion erupts; he hates his weakness, but it is hidden in his calm, inquisitive pace. He learns regardless; he wanders despite this faulty body. He has found his own freedom.
The air grows oppressive; the darkness becomes alive and sentient. Reginald feels it in his nerves, in his feeble vessels of blood; it is a chill that is most unbecoming in the Tallsun season. Reginald does not feel fear; he doesn’t know it. No, he feels only burning, differing kinds of fires that scald his insides at any given time. This particular blaze that rears inside of him is a curious one, fiercely enquiring in its white-hot flame. Why does this place breathe like this? he wonders, eyes of grey peering from behind his black locks, scanning the black in front of him; his hooves become caught in a mire of decay, and another flame leaps inside Reginald, though this one is borne from vengeance. He is in hate with this sticky ground; he wants it to leave.
The spiders fall, and the fires erupt. Reginald shakes his mane, jostles the thing that sets atop his head. As the great beasts approach, headed by their obvious lord and master, Reginald is empty of foalish terror. On his tongue is acid; in his heart are nettles. He hates all the more, but the kiln of enquiry wins out, and he stands innocently, frozen in the gaze of the king spider, Silas. His grey eyes are gentle and wide; befit for a child his age.
*"Do you dare - click click - asssk me for a prize?”*
And what does this spider offer? Avarice is the new fire that sparks inside of Reginald’s chest; it is a new sensation, and he learns it. He cannot hide it from the spider, however. It leaks into his eyes, into the set of his mouth; he speaks, words falling like dried, lifeless leaves that float in autumn air, the growl hidden in his throat unused, unneeded in his feint of childishness. “I do not ask.”
I demand.
[Reginald is dressed as Huey Freeman]
walk walk walktalk talk talk
R E G I N A L D
You will lose your throne to the chosen ones The chosen ones will rise
Along came a spider
And sat down beside her,
And frightened Miss Muffet away.</style>
The demon dog had gifted her, and she felt oddly lucky despite the bleak surroundings. Head high, the mare turned after a brief dip of the skull toward the bitch, her form moving along the trail that led away from the monstrous mongrel. The charred remains of long dead trees littered the path, now, each standing tall and sentinel along the path. They appeared to be burned to a crisp, yet their seemed alive all the same time– their black leaves still rustling eerily and forming a shadowed canopy above – as if watching the silent parade that moved through their domain. Her crest arched in a fake bravado, yet she felt a shudder move down her spine as one of the many leaves glided down and stroked her pale bodice.
It stroked her white canvas and stuck to her pelt and as the titan turned to bat the offending leaf away, she realized with a gasp that it was not a leaf at all. A spider seemed to grin up toward her before moving from her moon tinted pelt toward a leaf, its brothers and sisters following suit to surrounding he small gathering of equines. Her costume billowed in a small gust of wind; still dressed as a cavewoman, to her disdain, yet in the presence of the spiders and their king, she would take the humiliation of countless costumes over the presence of the eerie, giant arachnids.
She turns to the king, ears lowered slightly. Why was she, the brave general of the Foothills, so reluctant to even glance upon these vile creatures? As if to answer her thoughts, its large pincers clapped together in a threatening manner, venom leaking from the ivory clamps and down its hairy chin. Another shudder. Gross. Yet she had not come here to be frightened off by some overgrown bugs. She was no Miss Muffet! ”I seem to have misplaced my curds and whey. I am not frightened of you, spider. Trick or treat.”
Torleik was annoyed. The fickleness of the draugr dog was to be expected, but honestly? Striped legs? Irked greatly, ears pinned flat to his skull, he trundled on, determined to get out of this place. The ground beneath his feet became sticky and each step made a sick, sschhlock.
Reaching the trees, the Viking saw webs. Spiderwebs. If his ears could have gotten any flatter on his head they would have. He didn't have any sort of aversion to spiders other than sheer annoyance. They were fast, hard to keep track of, and therefore frustrating. These, however, were huge - which Torleik rather preferred. He could see them easily.
One took to lowering himself to the ground, the leader, the unicorn presumed, and he listened. Tired of these shenanigans - for the love of the gods his legs were striped orange. Orange! - he saw all the others around and grunted at this 'Silas the Spider.'
The rotting dog growled at Elita. The mare rolled her eyes, seeing that the cur was not pleased with her. The angel turned her body and started to walk down a cleared path when she noticed something wet was all over her. Her eyes flicked back to see what was soaking her body. Green slime was covering her prefect silver and golden coat! Oh my god! How disgusting! The mare’s jaw dropped in astonishment. That stupid mongrel did this to her! How she absolutely hated dogs.
Elita rolled her eyes, and kept moving. The trees soon turned black and the ground below her got mushy and stuck to her hooves. She could feel her stomach turning and a sickening feeling rose in the pit of the mare’s stomach. The Arabian just wanted to turn around, spread her wings, and fly away. Though, it seemed as if her body was telling her different than her mind. She kept on treading. Her wings stirred by her sides, green ooze dripping off of each feather.
Suddenly, the silver saw something stirring in the trees. Spiders! There were eight of them resting of the trees, watching her with their many eyes. Elita glared at them. Ha! She was not afraid of some silly spiders! White orbs then caught onto something coming to the ground. He propped himself on his four back legs to stare at her, and the others that had gathered, straight in the eye. The spider, who she had now learned its name was Silas, spoke words of another challenge. Once again, this mare would not back down.
“Can I have a prize?” Elita asked in a mocking tone. “Trick or treat.”
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