"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.
01-20-2014, 06:55 PM (This post was last modified: 01-21-2014, 03:56 PM by Rayo.)
Sohalia
Hoofbeats clatter on the hard earthen floor of the caverns as I make my way quickly through their depths. It is odd to me that the floor is not rock, but then the world stopped making sense about twenty minutes ago. I shouldn't expect anything to be as it should, not anymore; not when the darkness threatens to swallow me whole, and I am tempted to let it. I am dimly aware of entering a larger cave, and then dodging to the right to avoid the shadows lingering there. I have no desire to say hello to anyone, be it new friends or old. Truth be told, I don't think I deserve company in any form. I don't think I deserve anything at all.
I enter a large space filled with the thunder of an oddly lit waterfall; it flickers and glows, though I cannot tell where the light is coming from. It doesn't matter. I make my way to the far side of the pool into which the water flows, hiding my tear-streaked face from any who happen to be around. Unlike in the last room, the tears have blurred my vision to the point that I can no longer see clearly. I find myself standing by the edge of the pond, and I sink to my knees, as though standing is suddenly too much effort. A soft moan escapes me as I stare without seeing at the water, wondering if perhaps life would be easier for everyone if I just stuck my head under and took a few deep breaths.
The moments pass; I don't move. I don't have the courage to act on my thoughts. One more thing to add to my list of failures, I think miserably, tucking my legs close to my body and using my wings to shield myself from the outside world. My neck twists, and I bury my head beneath the ruffled feathers. It is only then that I give in to the silent sobs threatening to overtake me, only then that I allow myself to wallow in self-pity, only then that I allow the sorrow to show.
01-20-2014, 07:14 PM (This post was last modified: 01-20-2014, 07:16 PM by Rasta.)
I had moved away from Alleo for the moment. Mainly to try and figure out just what that feeling of peace and calm was that seemed to run over me whenever I was around him. It didn't make sense. I'd only felt it once before. Once with Taj. But it had never been this strong. It'd never made me feel completely and utterly at peace with the world.
So, here I was, traveling the caves until I could hear the thundering sound of a waterfall. I was this close to backing out and turning around. But, after I saw the frame of a white pegasus shooting from the cave and into the thundering room. Sohalia? I close my eyes and force myself to try and concentrate on the form when the vibrations of the water are only continuing to throw everything off.
Carefully, I stumble in, having to rely completely upon my sight instead of the vibrations. And that, in and of itself, meant that I would have to be even more observant of where I was standing. The thundering of the liquid seemed to shatter my eardrums and my audits pinned as the fear spread through my features. So many experiences of death. So many experiences of pain. So many near drownings. Oh how I hated waterfalls. But the mare that I gave my allegiance to was breaking down. I would not allow her to be alone as I had felt so often in this group. I would be there for her.
I sidle up beside her, allow my maw to brush against her withers. I was still unable to speak, so as I dropped my frame down beside her I attempted to push my face under the wing where her neck was twisting towards if she would allow me to. I could feel the shaking of frame against me. She didn't deserve to be sad. She didn't deserve to be in pain. She deserved some kind of happiness.
Now it was just up to me to try and find a way to get her to smile again...
two feet standing on a principle
two hands digging in each others wounds
cold smoke seeping out of colder throats darkness falling, leaves nowhere to move
chunga-stock | prints-of-stock
⁂
Mystified, just spinning 'round in circles
Drowning in the silent screaming with nothing left to say
⁂
01-20-2014, 07:51 PM (This post was last modified: 01-20-2014, 07:52 PM by NPC.)
In the pleasantry of the world around her, there is a tug at her soul, the only portion of her that remains. Metaphysical at best, she wanders the spirit realm with her mother at her side, seeing old friends and greeting new ones, trying to forget the memories she never would be able to. Even in death her mind was not so forgiving, but now she was strong. Fearless. Nothing could hurt her in this safe haven for souls of the good and departed. But like a silver thread, something is pulling at her, and she is bothered incessantly by it until at last she turns and follows the shimmering trail. The world around her changes, no longer misty and serene in the ever-changing landscape of the afterlife. Now, she stands on ghost legs on solid ground. What had brought her here, to the living world, to stand unseen by the eyes of those yet to be immortalized in death?
Glancing about with glowing cerulean eyes, she peers through the cavern, looking down to realize it is not in fact solid ground she walks on but water. It is an odd realization. Then, she lifts her crown, floating tendrils of hair golden and shimmering in the air around her as if devoid of gravity in all but how she stands upon the water. Quiet sobbing reaches her ears, drawing her attention as she slowly lifts her gaze, and something old and rarely remembered twinges in her chest. Memories of her mortal life, of a hesitant friendship struck at the height of the world, surrounded by miles of mists. Warm smiles and gentle touches, concerned words and sobs that had echoed from her own chest.
"Sohalia," she murmurs in recognition, memories scratching at the surface of her mind. She steps closer, and luckily it seems walking is the same as it was in the spirit realm. She elegantly lowers herself to her knees, reaching out her muzzle to where Sohalia has her face tucked beneath her wing, pressing the velvet of her lips behind the white ears. Withdrawing once more, she wondered if Sohalia could possibly see her, by some fate of the Gods. She begged for it to be true, if only so she could help her somehow, even from the realm she now inhabited. "Can you hear me, sister?" She has eyes only for her old friend, not for the lass that sidles up next to her.
01-20-2014, 08:09 PM (This post was last modified: 01-20-2014, 08:21 PM by Rayo.)
Sohalia
I do not hear anything but the pounding of the water falling from the heavens. I do not see anything but the soft feathers of my own wing. I do not feel anything but the hard floor beneath me and the gentle spray falling across my back. I do not smell anything except the cool, refreshing scent of the water. I do not taste anything but the salt of my own tears. It is these physical realities that I find myself clinging to, because to allow my mind to rove into my subconscious, to allow my sorrow to overcome my senses, would be something akin to suicide. I know that I cannot handle that which threatens to drag me under, and so I shut it all out, hoping, praying, that I might be alone again. Things would be so much easier if I had never even come here.
"Sohalia..." The soft voice calls to my mind, pulling at my soul. It is familiar, and comforting, and without moving my physical body, my spirit stirs from its cocooned position. It has been many months since I have dared venture into the spirit world, many months since I have encountered my sister (for is there any other word for what Rowan means to me?). I raise my spiritual head, watching her approach from across the water. It is surprising to me that my body would reject my soul so vehemently as to throw me into the spirit world without warning, but somehow even that worry is distant in comparison to the mare striding toward me.
"Rowan," I breathe, the slightest spark of joy rising in my chest, only to be snuffed out by the memories of what has transpired in my horrid reality. My face crumples, and though no tears appear in this world-between-worlds, my emotion is no doubt written across my features. "Oh, Rowan." The pain and torment works its way into my words, and I find myself unable to continue. Instead, I close my eyes and allow my forelock to cover my face from her gaze. "Don't - I don't deserve you," I tell her, my vocals laced with distress. "I don't deserve anyone."
Somewhere, my physical body is aware that someone has approached, begun to nudge their way beneath my wing. I lift it slightly, recognizing the scent of my friend-mentor, Rasta. I am dimly embarrassed that she has to see me like this, and when I'm not even in my own body, to boot. Still, instinctively, I roll from my side to my stomach, my wing falling over her body to hide us from the world. I press my face to her nape, leaning into her motherly embrace, and I continue to weep, beyond words, beyond thought, beyond anything. My coherence has crossed over, waiting for Rowan to reject me, too.
"I messed up, Rasta," I say, and I am struck by how odd it is to have two conversations at once. "I messed up so badly." How did I get this way? How did this happen? "I... I don't know... what to do," I choke out between sobs, and my words act to refresh my tears, which stream down my face harder than before. "I'm sorry, I'm... sorry," but who am I apologizing to? I haven't done anything to Rasta; she has nothing to do with my current predicament. But surely I've let her down, too, just like I've let down everyone else. Note, Gaucho, Skysong, Zenobia... and letting them down pales in comparison to failing myself. "Please," I whisper, but I don't really know what I'm asking for anymore.
01-20-2014, 08:34 PM (This post was last modified: 01-20-2014, 08:35 PM by Rasta.)
As I dropped my frame down beside the light mare I allowed my maw to begin to nudge under her wing. It seemed, as she felt my pelt against hers, that she lifted her wing to allow me easier access toward her side. Vaguely, I can see her muscles shift even though I can't feel the movement of it, and she is situated on her stomach as her wing positions itself completely over my tiny bodice. It is then, when I am actually pressed up against her side, that I can feel the sobs that are wracking her body. Her face is pressed up against my nape, and I am gently lipping at her side near her heart. It would be okay. There would be a way. I would find a way to make her happier again.
I can feel her pressing into my side even more, and it is all of me that continues to press my maw in a comforting manner against her heart as she buries her head in my nape. Words are falling from her mouth, saying she messed up. I can only shake my head, wishing so dearly that I could give her the words that are locked in my chest at the moment. My head would stop shaking as she spoke new words, saying how she had messed up badly. Again, I shook my head. No. No she didn't. She said she doesn't know what to do, but each word is only making her cry even more. Slowly, I shift my neck so that my maw can mess with her mane, twirling the strands and tugging at them delicately. Breathe. I let out a deep breath against her pelt, allowing her to continue to bury her head in my neck if she so desired, but she needed to breathe. She was apologizing. I'm still shaking my head.
There's nothing to apologize for. It's okay... I thought to myself, brows furrowing as I continued to mess around with her tendrils of hair. I had to do something, anything, to try and give her a sense of calm so that she could explain what was going on. But I had no words to say, no soothing nonsense to utter. I had given up my words to quest for the only thing that had truly made me whole. And it seemed as though now was when I needed those words most - to calm her down. To tell her that it would be okay. That whatever it was, well it wasn't her fault.
two feet standing on a principle
two hands digging in each others wounds
cold smoke seeping out of colder throats darkness falling, leaves nowhere to move
chunga-stock | prints-of-stock
⁂
Mystified, just spinning 'round in circles
Drowning in the silent screaming with nothing left to say
⁂
01-20-2014, 10:12 PM (This post was last modified: 01-20-2014, 10:12 PM by NPC.)
Ivory cranium turns and lifts as she speaks, pale blues focusing on her, and Rowan gives a warm smile, happy to see her sister revealing herself from where she had hidden away in sorrow and grief. A part of the celestial child regrets not being able to be there, to know exactly why Sohalia is sobbing beneath her wing, trying to find solace in a touch that is her own. If she had been there, would Sohalia still be huddled on the cavern floor, crying? Could Rowan have protected her from this emotional torture somehow? She wasn't sure.
The lass at her side brings back her attention, drawing to her the realization that Sohalia was somehow splitting her awareness between the spirit realm that housed Rowan, and the mortal realm where Sohalia still remained. It was odd, seeing double vision almost, as Sohalia was split between the two of them. But instead, she focused on her friend, distraught and crying. Her words hurt her, in a way she had not felt since she'd passed on through the ether.
"You have always deserved me, sister. Bad times may come, doubt may fill your heart in many ways, but never doubt that you deserve my love." Softly she murmurs it into her friend's ears, wishing she knew her woes so that she may better make her understand just how worth it she really was.
"You deserve more than you think, my dear. Have I ever lied to you? No matter how rough life gets, or how many people hurt you, there will always- always- be one more person to raise you back up. You saved me when I needed someone to lean on most. Things may be hard now, Sohalia, but they will get better. They always get better. Sometimes, though, it comes in mysterious ways." Her head tilted, oceanic eyes squinted in a serene smile. She may not be much in the world of spirits, but she knew the power of hope and good fortune, and she knew that Sohalia had the strength to pull through this.
"Look around you, sister." She gestured towards Rasta with a gentle smile, moving closer to brush her muzzle over the crest of her best friend's neck. "Even now, you have someone to bring you higher, and be by your side. Even when you don't think you deserve us, we believe you are more than worth it. You are not alone. You are never alone." Each word was spoken with conviction and sincerity, letting it sink in as she watched the confusing split between worlds. Maybe if she could get Sohalia to focus on a common theme...
"I wish to tell your friend something. Will you tell her? Tell her that I am trusting her to take care of you. That I am watching her closely," she gave a soft laugh, playfully. Anything to make Sohalia smile again.
Rowan's breath is warm as she murmurs soothing thoughts to me. She speaks of happiness, and love, and I think I understand all of a sudden that Rowan is the only horse I've ever truly loved. She is the only one who I have ever felt that I could give my life for. She is the only one who has supported me as avidly as I have supported her. I have blocked out memories of her death, for they are so very painful, for I feel that I failed her in some way on that day, that I could have saved her somehow. I shake my head as she insists that I am not alone, that I deserve her love, because I just can't make myself believe that. "You don't know what I've done," I whisper, protesting, but she interrupts, asking if I will tell my friend something.
My spirit-self turns, surprised, having forgotten that in another realm, my physical self is engaged in a separate conversation, though the gist of each is the same. Warmth sparks in my chest as I remember that Rasta, too, is a friend. I have not known her as I knew Rowan, it's true, but I have no doubt about her loyalty, about her love, regardless of whether or not I deserve it. A small part of me wonders if perhaps I am not alone, after all, but the majority disagrees. I must be alone. I must not hurt anyone else. I must not fail anyone else. I don't have the luxury of friendship, of love, not when I have done so much wrong in the world. "I... don't understand," I say finally, gazing pleadingly into Rowan's gentle gaze. "She can't help me with - with this." And I am overwhelmed by the desire to bare my soul to my oldest friend.
The story spills out - Skysong's disappearance, and how she hated me for holding her so close, for keeping her so tied down; my tryst with Gaucho, before Note had even disappeared, just because he was busy, or distant, or some combination of the two; losing Zenobia, failing at the one thing that Gaucho had expected of me; my confusion as I tried to choose between the two stallions; my anguish as I tried to come to terms with both of my daughters' likely deaths. It spills forth, a never-ending stream of sadness and pain and angst, but eventually I fall silent, lost in a world of mental torment again. If I were paying attention, I would have taken note of my physical actions as well.
My body shakes against Rasta as she tries to comfort me, or at least I presume that's what she's doing. I haven't heard her speak in a long time, I realize suddenly, but the fact that she is here tells me that she still cares at least a bit. I should have asked her about her voice. I should have been around to find out what's going on. But I've even failed her, it seems. Some friend I am. Nonetheless, as I tell Rowan my story, it spills forth from my physical lips, and although it is an odd sensation to be talking in two places at once, I don't see what choice I have. I need help. I need love. I need reassurance. And I'm pretty sure that these two mares are the only ones that can give me that.
"I don't know what to do now," I admit at the end of my story, to the both of them. "I have failed at everything I've ever wanted or tried to do. I have ruined everything." The tears continue to fall, the sobs returning as my tale concludes. "I- I have to tell you-" I begin, turning my physical attention to Rasta. "M-my sister... well, she's m-my best friend, but, she's b-basically my sister... she's d-dead, and, and I can s-see her with m-magic..." I am rambling. "S-she told m-me to t-tell you that s-she is trusting you to t-take care of me... and that she's w-watching."
To Rowan, my spirit-self says only this: "Help me."
As I am trying to comfort her I hear the words mumbled against my neck. A sob story of all the pain in her life. I want to tell her it will get better. I want to explain that everyone can rise from the ashes. I want to offer her just the barest glimpse of the horrors of my past. She is still shaking against my frame. My lips are still kneading against her arched neck in an attempt to soothe the poor mare that is so lost in her own mind she cannot see that there is a possibility the world could look up on her.
She said she didn't know what to do anymore, claiming that she had failed at everything she had ever wanted. Claiming she had ruined everything. But that was a lie right there. The wall! She had built that wall! If only I could point that out to her. If only I could remind her of the great work she had been accomplishing there to protect her family. Her sobs worsen, her voice catching and breaking even more now. She says that she has to tell me something. Says that her sister/best friend is dead, but that with the gift of magic she could see the mare on the other side. She said that her friend told her to tell me that she is trusting me to take care of Sohalia, that this ghost was watching me.
I nod my head, tugging on her hair to get the white mare to look at me. I try to meet her gaze. I will not let you fall apart. If she gives me her attention, and will allow me to lip over her eyes I brush my maw against them, to make reference to my blindness. And, then I point towards the scarring pattern across my back, a soft snort escaping from my maw, nudging the mare's shoulder to get her to feel the pattern that most overlook between the light and the fact that I am blind. There is a weak depression in the middle of my back, where my spine is clipped and easily jarred out of place. And the pattern across my back is rigid as if something came in to scrap the fur off of my back, which is the truth in part. For a tree did scrape at my hide, but it also tried to burn.
I survived. If I, blind, could survive all of this - nothing can stop you. Delicately, I reach out to touch my maw to her face, to try and wipe the tears away. The roaring of the water is still shaking my frame, and I can feel the radiating power in my back with tiny spikes of pain. In all honesty, I don't know the world around me. But I don't care, because the one who I am forever loyal to needs me more than I need to know the world that I'm positioned on.
Just one smile...
two feet standing on a principle
two hands digging in each others wounds
cold smoke seeping out of colder throats darkness falling, leaves nowhere to move
chunga-stock | prints-of-stock
⁂
Mystified, just spinning 'round in circles
Drowning in the silent screaming with nothing left to say
⁂
She was so lost and broken on the trail of life Rowan had once walked. Did she not remember how Rowan had made it? The only reason she had prospered, had lived for so long despite all that held her down, was because Sohalia had been there every step of the way. Skysong had been her child as much as Sohalia's, and the two had grown so close in their time of raising the curious little filly that they were nearly inseparable. Rowan rarely thought of her mortal life of the past, but when she did, it wasn't often with regret or longing to return. But looking into the broken crystals of her best friend's eyes, she began to feel sorrow over her inability to be there for the mare she loved so dearly, the one who had been there for her countless times before. If only she could have repaid the favor before life had so cruelly torn her away from the ivory maiden's side.
"You don't know what I've done."
"I don't need to," she whispered softly, brushing their cheeks together lovingly. "There is nothing you could do that could ever make me doubt my love for you." She is so lost, looking between the two actions she is inhabiting- one with her physical body that lies with the mute mare beside her in a world Rowan cannot hope to touch- while the other is crumpled before her like a flightless bird, whispy and real in a way only she and Sohalia can understand. Rowan with experience, and she with magic.
Turning to gaze at her physical body, she seems overwhelmed, and suddenly she is sobbing and spilling everything Rowan had missed the moment Ulrik had taken her life from her grasp. Rowan listens in silence, gazing at her lovingly, understandingly, as she takes it all in. This is what she was meant to do- she was supposed to be here. Comforting her best friend and sister, showing her that even in death Rowan would be there for her.
And when she is finished, Rowan merely smiles, and presses a kiss to the crown of her sister. "Skysong found her calling because of her rebellion, Sohalia. I was just as cruel to my mother, and trust me, Sky will come to feel as I do now. You cannot mold her life forever, Sohalia. It is for the best that she left, for how else would she find her own wings? Her own path?" As she speaks she moves her muzzle in soothing circles down Sohalia's face, across her cheek, and down the curve of her neck. "As for this Gaucho...sister, you believed Note gone and never returning. Would you have expected him to be alone and hurting forever, if you were the one to disappear? Never blame yourself for love, no matter how it ends or who it seems to bother. It is your heart, and only yours. I see nothing wrong with wanting love and affection, when your only beloved is seemingly gone forever?"
There is so much to cover, and Rowan doesn't know how to handle it at first, but it comes so easily that she decides overthinking it and trying to find the perfect words is not the right decision. "I have seen the plague that harasses Helovia, sister. How many others do you think have lost their loved ones, their children, in the midst of this panic?" She sighs and wonders if what she is about to promise is even within her realm of capability. "I will search for her, from my realm. I promise you that. I cannot promise what I will find, but you have my word."
Her fears seem neverending, but Rowan has all the time and patience in the world as she smooths her lips over the tense curves of her sister's skin. "I have not seen them, on this side. I doubt they have crossed, which means they are still safe in your world. And Sohalia, you know I will care for them, if they ever do come to meet me in the afterlife. And I will visit you, and bring them with me, if only to soothe your fears. Sometimes knowing the answers...it is not good. But it helps, in the end." And oh, the love! Rowan had never been in love, had never had the chance in her young life. How was she supposed to help her when she'd only ever loved someone as she loved Sohalia?
"The only advice I can give you, sister, is to think: who of the two will be best for you, physically, emotionally, and mentally? And if you find that they cannot fulfill those needs, those requirements that are necessary for a healthy relationship...then it is time to move past the poison they have left in your life, and find the real purity of love once more." Each word is a soft murmur, a condolence, a promise that things are going to be okay eventually.
She begs for help, and Rowan lets a single shimmering tear of sympathy slip down her cheek.
"I am always here to help you, Sohalia. You only need to come to me. I am always with you, forever. No matter what plane of life I am in, I will always be there for you, because there is nothing stronger in me than my love for you."
I am slowly beginning to calm under the watchful gaze of my dear sister and the gentle silence of my dear friend. Though I don't necessarily believe all that Rowan says - she places the blame for my faults on everyone but me, and that simply will not do - it makes me feel better, all the same. Perhaps if someone still believes in me, that will be all that matters, that will carry me through the difficulties and the pain of life. Or maybe I'm just kidding myself - after all, what has gone right in my lifetime? I have loved and I have lost; I have lost so, so many times. Where is the happiness that Rowan claims I deserve? Where is the love that I have searched for so fervently?
Though she chooses to ignore the fact that I was with Gaucho before I knew Note was gone, the meaning of her speech remains the same - I need to choose the one that will benefit me the most. It is an entirely selfish view of the situation, and as I consider, I find it difficult to grasp. Note, of course, was always my emotional support, was my metaphorical rock on which my future was to be built, but Gaucho... well, there's no arguing that he is the stronger of the two, more well-placed to protect me and care for me in times of need. But he won't ever connect with me on the same level as Note, just as Note cannot offer the same level of protection that Gaucho can.
But which is more important?
I never found out if Note left me - he didn't say, and I didn't get the chance to get the specifics. Just like I didn't get to tell him what all I've done, so I don't know if he would even want to stay with me. But I don't want my life to hinge on what-ifs, on taking whoever will have me. I want to have a choice, even if I don't enjoy the process. Ultimately, it comes down to one simple fact: I want them both. And I hate myself for it.
Rowan isn't done, however, as she continues to talk about my children. She assures me that Skysong made the right choice, and though I cannot possibly believe her, I appreciate the effort. I was forcibly removed from my mother as a youngling, and there is not a day that passes that I do not regret not having the benefits of a functional family, that I don't wish I had my mother by my side to guide me. It is beyond my ability to comprehend. Still, Rowan offers to bring them to me, should they pass into the spirit world, and that is truly the most I can ask for from her. I nod.
In my world, I lift my head as Rasta moves, afraid that she, too, is going to leave me, disgusted with my story. But instead she seems to be trying to tell me something. Her lips brush over my eyes, and I blink, taken aback. She gestures to the various scars across her body, and looks at me pleadingly. I shake my head wearily. "I'm not strong like you, Rasta," I admit quietly. It's true. I don't know the blind mare's story, but I do know that she can overcome many things that I cannot. I do not think that perhaps she can see the things about myself that I cannot, but I suppose if I knew that, I wouldn't believe it anyway.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Skysong and Zenobia will either make it here, or they won't - that's beyond my control. But what am I supposed to tell Note? Gaucho?" I sigh, my sorrow slowly being replaced by frustration. I can't talk to Gaucho, as primitive as he is. Who am I kidding, to choose him over Note? And yet, there is something remarkably irresistible about him, something that I long for on a deep, subconscious level.
To Rowan, after a moment's silence: "I love you, Rowan. But maybe you're the only one I should even try to love."
She lifts her head as I move. I would have been able to feel the tension that radiated through her body had I not been so overwhelmed by the thundering vibrations of the waterfall. I don't realize that she thinks I'm going to leave her too, but I do recognize the blink of confusion after I've brushed my maw across her eyes to try and explain the blindness. The gestures to my scars and the pleading look upon my face are only met with a wear shake of her head, it moving as if a weight is clung to it and she can barely keep it up.
She says she isn't strong like I am. My ears pin instantly in distaste and I'm shaking my head fervently. No. You are STRONGER than I. But she can't hear those words. I can't explain it to her. It is tearing at my heart, making it feel like it's being clutched at and gripped so hard it might burst. She needs to know she's strong. But the mare has already moved on, continuing with her uncertainties. Saying that she doesn't know what to do. At least she seems to have accepted that the fault for her children is not resting on her hooves. That is always good. It was looking up a little bit. But she is asking what to tell Note and Gaucho.
Again. I cannot offer words, I cannot explain. Again, I am left to play a game of charades that I don't think the mare is understanding. I snort and then press my maw up against where her heart is. That you love them... It seemed like it might be clear. But, then again, I was not in her mind. I could not now just what would help. And still, I could feel the tension that weighed on my soul.
Just a smile. Just a gleam of happiness in her eyes. Just one sign...
two feet standing on a principle
two hands digging in each others wounds
cold smoke seeping out of colder throats darkness falling, leaves nowhere to move
chunga-stock | prints-of-stock
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Mystified, just spinning 'round in circles
Drowning in the silent screaming with nothing left to say
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Firelight spills into the room - etching the walls at the entrance into which the warrior comes. For better or worse, Gaucho did - and has only ever done - what he thought best.
He had challenged Note, for the right to pursue Sohalia. The dun cared very little for what has transpired previously, although the news of another child would be very surprising, it was all in the past. Even the future was undecided. The pair had never spoken of the bond between them. They had been brought together, as if by fate and physical attraction - Gaucho with his large wings hiding his white treasure from the world, and dazzling her with a display of fireflies and affection. After that, their meetings had been brief: a conversation and a vow to protect Sohalia and their child, when she announced that she was pregnant, a few words during Zenobia's birth and then...He had been busy, hadn't he? There was the thread of maww-jah, the invasion and the yewwneekorns. He had been made Sultan for his efforts after Kri had left. All of this, he had done to protect his family...His family, which of course included Sohalia.
Likely the question on her mind though, was whether she was simply one among many.
Note had declined his invitation, and would proceed to farther in rekindling whatever there once was between the two. He had lost that privilege, and would have to go through the dun, should he ever like another chance.
But what now?
Rimmed with firelight that burned with heat against his dark body, Gaucho moved forward. The odd markings adorning his body rippled as his strong muscles flexed with each step. In a flash of silver, Mara descended down his neck, to his broad shoulder, and finally down his leg. Slithering across the floor, she wound her way to the white mare, hissing softly as she neared. Her black eyes focused upon the bi-coloured gaze of the mare from her bonded's thoughts, as she rose high on her tail. Her forked tongue pointed at the necklace around Sohalia's neck; the crystal rose. She hissed inquisitively, before dropping low and coiling herself near Sohalia's hooves, as Gaucho approached.
"Soh." He offered, his normally deep and commanding voice rather soft, even as it echoed off of the walls of the cave. His firelit gaze momentarily flickered to Rasta, before falling decidedly upon Sohalia. It was only she, he wanted.
Rowan is there, but she is silent, and somehow I understand the silence to be a rebuke. If I were to guess, I would think that she is telling me that I should love whomever I should wish. I would think that she is telling me not to be silly, that of course she and I will always have one another, and yet she cannot be the only one in my life. A deep sadness begins to permeate me, for I miss her so terribly and I cannot imagine how I will go on without her support. My spirit self closes its eyes, breathes in her comforting scent (all the while realizing distantly that it's odd for the spirit world to have smells), and begins to relax. She is there - silent, but there - and that is enough.
In my reality, Rasta pins her auds at my denial; without thinking, I flinch away, waiting for a blow that I know won't come. I can't imagine why I would react that way - I have never been physically harmed in my life, much less by a friend - but I do. Instantly, a sheepish look falls over my face, and I watch her carefully as she presses her muzzle to my chest. To my heart. Suddenly, I have a moment of understanding. It is all about love - that's what she and Rowan are trying to tell me. They want me to open up my heart and show those that I care about that I do care for them. That I love them. But how can I be so open when all I am doing is opening myself up for more heartache? I offer a smile - it is a sad smile, but it is there, an improvement on the morose frown I have worn this whole time. "Maybe," I whisper softly.
Suddenly, the room is flooded with orange and yellow, flickering over the water and creating new shadows. I turn my head and take in a sight that surprises me. Instead of my soft, emotional mate, my primitive, brutal lover has come to rescue me from my misery. I am struck for a moment by how simply odd that is, and then I begin to worry. Is Note hurt? Did Gaucho kill him? Or did Note just give up? Did he not love me anymore? And yet, despite all of the questions, all of the worry, all of the confusion, there is relief there, too, and I realize that I cannot go back to a carefree relationship with Note. I realize that maybe I don't love him anymore, not like I should. I realize that somehow along the way of infidelity and broken promises, I have fallen in love with a brute who couldn't possibly love me back.
Could he?
What does it mean that he has come to find me?
My breath catches in my throat as I admire, for the umpteenth time, how wonderfully, ruggedly attractive Gaucho is. I study his face, wondering if I can see protection and affection written in the lines of firelight dancing along his body. Maybe I have only imagined that he cares. Maybe he is only doing his duty. The snake slides to the floor, and I find myself wondering yet again what her name is. She manages to get in front of Rasta and I, holding my gaze with her own as she motions to the crystal rose around my neck. I smile slightly, remembering the gesture that led to my acquisition of the trinket, and then glance back up to the stallion. He is uninterested in Rasta, and I drop my gaze to hers for a moment, touching her muzzle with my own, before retracting my wing from around her and pulling myself to my feet.
The snake bundles herself near my hooves, and I wonder if it is a show of support. My head is held low, slightly higher than my withers, and my ears flicker back and forth with indecision. I take a deep breath, and then words tumble forth: "Am I your mate, Gaucho?" I pause awaiting a response, and then I rush forward without stopping to analyze emotions, knowing that if I do, I will never get another sentence out. "Do you have any other mates?" And then I hold my breath. I wait. I hope Rasta stays; I could use the support, even if it is silent.
Ampere drifted through the dark hallways of this prison like a dust mote, hollow, lost, unnoticed among the countless other specks floating through their existence. Part of her was going mad with restlessness being trapped down here, the vision Oxy's boggart painted for her like a bad dream that haunted her even in waking, but even so she did not leave the confines of the walls, not after what had happened last time. So it was that Ampere was destined to slowly go insane, or so she thought, so it felt.
How long had it even been since the first day the world had broken? Time passed without meaning here, days and nights, minutes and hours nothing more than the constant glow from gemstones and mushrooms. She slept in staggered blocks, always waking in a cold sweat, alone in a room of strangers. Just thinking about it this way made her mouth run dry with anxiety, her heart thudding like a running rabbit in her chest, until a smell drifted past her.
Ampere paused, head shifting just enough that her mane stirred on her nape. That smell she thought dreamily, the rising tide of panic abruptly settling inside of her, it's him...
In an instant she turned, her hooves pattering softly on the stone floor with her small frame, though the countless footsteps others created meant their echoes were lost to the noise of everyone living. She had all but given up on finding the stallion who's musk she trailed diligently, but in her growing weakness she hadn't the strength to resist him again. Besides, he was here, she had seen him, and would have been seeing him if fucking Oxy hadn't ruined the moment. Since then all she'd managed was whiffs of his cologne, but now, now she knew the trail was hot, his odor a potent summons to her faint heart. She needed him now more than ever. She didn't think she was flying but all she'd been doing since entering this cave was floating around and she knew he could ground her. One good fuck and she'd feel alive again, that's how it always worked out.
As Ampere drew nearer voices began to grow clear, and soon bodies gathered around a part of the pool. Ampere paused in the shadows for a moment, blue eyes appraising the backside of the primitive beast that had captured her desires so completely. She exhaled a steady sigh of relief, as if finally being able to see him, to be near him was something divine - in a way it was, he'd become like a myth and now she beheld the fantastical sex god in all his glory. The urge to take a piss then and there was strong, but she beat it down the instant she recognized the pale mare.
The bitch! Ampere's mind screeched at once, her feathers ruffling against her sides. She'd nearly forgotten that Gaucho had a 'mate'. Perhaps she'd hoped the girl had been delusional - Gaucho didn't seem the type to settle down after all. So in a way Ampere was crushed to see him here with her, a delicate moment obviously hanging between them.
Ampere took a step back, her gut roiling. This was them... and she was not included. How stupid to think she could just waltz in and utilize Gaucho to make herself feel better, he had enough tail to last him. Where is Mesec damnit!
She did not leave though, her inward anger beginning to sizzle off her skin and direct itself outward. Gaucho would enjoy being with her, if he'd give it a try. He didn't need a mate, in fact she was almost positive he didn't want one. A stallion like him, he could have a whole harem! It was the mare that needed to leave. She was interrupting everything.
Ampere rushed from the shadows suddenly then, revealing herself with flared wings and an extended neck, flexing some what to make her curves stand out more. "Gaucho!" she said breathlessly, stopping a stride or two from them, eyes brightening as though their private meeting were just dawning on her. "I-I'm sorry Gaucho, but we need you. Wraiths, she gasped out, feigning as if she'd been running frantically. "Wraiths attacking at the front! We need your help or else they'll turn more of us!
Ampere made to turn and run back the way she'd come, waiting just before the shadows would envelope her once more to look over her shoulder for the soldier.
She flinches away from my pinned ears, and it hurts. I feel my heart snap. I'd never physically punish - not after the torture I'd been through. But I can't say that. I don't have words. It is only when I press my maw against her chest, right near her heart that she seems to connect the dots. And, as I peer up at her I see the smile that is gently curling up her lips. Good. Finally. Didn't want to make silly faces. She whispers a maybe, and as the room fills with the flickering reds and oranges of fire both of us lift our heads to see just what has created it.
The looming creature with a lack of eloquent speech appeared. One of the problems. I couldn't help but to pin my ears in distaste. If he did anything to hurt her more! Well... I'd find a way to make him understand just how much it hurt her. Someway. Somehow. But Soh's breath catches in her throat and as he ignores my presence he locks on her's. With that movement she glances down towards me and gently presses her muzzle to mine before pulling her wing away and dragging herself to her feet.
The mare has the snake at her feet, and her head held low. It is with a deep breath that the mare begins to speak , a gentle pause and then asking if he had other mares. And her breath seems to be caught in her chest. I'm struggling to my feet, still disliking not being able to rely on vibrations because of the trembling waterfall throwing off the world around me. It is with slow and not-so-steady steps that I lurch forward (yes lurch, but slowly because if you saw the way that my body was moving you might possibly think it was in slow-motion) until I am at her side, pressing my maw against her shoulder in an attempt to support her. I was standing slightly strange, my depth perception off enough that I couldn't truly place where I was in relation to everything and my hooves having to be spread apart in order to deal with the vibrations that weren't assisting in clarification.
And with the yell my head shoots up, meeting yet another winged creature calling Gaucho's name. Wraiths? Attacking?
Well. Seemed today was the day the world went to hell...
02-02-2014, 09:22 PM (This post was last modified: 02-02-2014, 09:22 PM by Gaucho.)
She seeeeeesss Mara whispered into Gaucho's brain, observing Rasta. Indeed, the mare seemed to move without her ears constantly flopping about. Although he filed the observation away, it interested him little. She interested him little. She was a delusional mare - he had heard others say that she believed to be hundreds of years old. The idea was absurd, even to Gaucho's simplistic brain. It was not that the idea of such a thing conflicted with other beliefs he held, it was her ignorance that told him it could not be so. She had been the first to vocalize about his ability as a leader during their last herd meeting; she, who had never had a full conversation with him. Who knew nothing of him, openly criticizing him. No. If she were truly that old, Gaucho bet she would be a lot more insightful than she claimed to be.
But she wasn't talk to him, which was good.
As Sohalia rises, a low nicker emerges from Gaucho's dark lips. It's such a strange sound, coming from the scarred warrior, but the sudden movement forward of his dark ears, confirms that the sound was indeed what it appeared to be. Dark blue-gray eyes watched the petite mare, as he rose and cupped his wings, as if trying to cast the firelight upon her, and her alone.
Although she was in the spotlight, it appeared he was about to be the hot seat.
Am I your mate, Gaucho? and then, Do you have any other mates?
The keen and inviting look dwindled slightly from his rugged expression, as he listened to her questions. Although she moved towards him, he was unsure if he was supposed to do the same. Her questions felt like a trap, and so he remained stationary.
"Not mate with anyone, since we make Zeno." He replied, answering her second question first, as that was the one his mind currently lingered on. As for the first...well, that was an odd question, wasn't it? What did she mean? She didn't use the word only or special or unique - or anything else to imply that he should only have one, and that one was her, and yet it certainly seemed to be what she was getting at.
Gaucho's gaze dropped to Mara, who shook her head; a reptilian shrug.
Did she mean she wanted to mate? Now?
Just as his dark lips opened to inquire further into her meaning, Ampere's hooves skittered across the solid ground, demanding his attention. Swinging his large frame towards her, the spot-light of firelight that was previously upon Sohalia, was now casting its warm glow over Ampere's muscular form. While the contrast of red upon Sohalia's white had been beautiful, the starkness of Ampere's electric blue against the fire-red was dazzling. His thoughts already on mating, it shouldn't be surprising that his gaze failed to remain on Ampere's, but instead trailed the sculpted lines of her body. While Sohalia was petite and lean, Ampere was curvacious. Gaucho's mind silently wondered if she wouldn't look even more appealing with a good deal of sweat dripping down the contours of her dark frame.
However even Ampere had words for him that would snap him out of his lustful thoughts. Maybe he should prefer Rasta after all.
Wraiths.
The warm lustful spark that was beginning to rise in his gaze, was replaced suddenly with a steely glint. His wings snapped outwards, no longer spotlighting Ampere, but instead casting light around him, and illuminating the darkness from where she had just come. His muscular body tensed, as he spun on flame-less hooves to follow Ampere into the darkness.
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Mara screeched loudly; streaking towards Gaucho in a blurr of silver. Sssaay ssssomething! She mentally demanded.
Say something? Sohalia would understand. He was their sultan. He had started the W.A.R movement he had -
...
He had to say something. Grunting, his chiseled jaw turned her direction, gaze falling upon the mare no longer alight with the light from his wings. "Talk after. Wraiths." Emphasizing the last word as if to underscore its importance, Gaucho waited only until Mara had slithered up his leg and into his antlers. As soon as she had, his dark hooves propelled him forward into the tunnels, and after Ampere.
Rasta is not pleased to see one of the sources of my pain, though she calms herself and opts to press her muzzle to my shoulder. I am grateful for the support as I stand breathlessly waiting for Gaucho's response to my pleading queries. I almost immediately regret the words that slipped from my mouth. He seems uncomfortable, unsure of how to respond, and again I lament his lack of ability to understand things that I think are so simple. He tells me that he has not mated with anyone since he and I had done so, and the relief that I feel is sharp and unexpected. When had I become to addicted to him? When had I come to care so deeply about what he did? I had thought that I knew what I was getting myself into, back then - I had thought that I entered into our 'relationship' with no expectations, but now I realize that I was wrong. I am not one to love halfway; if we are to have physical relations, I need some form of emotional support. And right now, it is an unsatisfied craving hanging from the tail of his proffered assurance, so close to being said and yet so far.
He looks as though he is about to speak, and there is perhaps something desperate as I take just one step forward, stretching my neck, reaching for him, longing for a touch to let me know that my affection is not in vain. But we are interrupted. The clatter of hooves catches my attention and my head jerks up, my auds swiveling forward to find the newcomer. They pin just as quickly, though, for it is the blue that had called me a bitch at the oasis. Bile rises in my throat as I notice Gaucho looking her over, as though she is another piece of ass, and suddenly my hopes and dreams seem to fly out the window. Of course I'm not special. Of course I am just one of many. If he hasn't mated with anyone since our union, it is by chance, not by choice. How could I be so stupid, to stand here and think that maybe, just maybe he cared, and at some primitive level he wanted what I wanted.
I am surprised by the heat of anger that rushes into my veins. I have never been one for violence, having seen the effects of it on my family's lives, but suddenly I want nothing more than to wipe that pretty smirk off her face and chase her away from that which I have somehow come to consider mine. Perhaps there is something primal in me as well. Perhaps that is why the perceived betrayal of Gaucho and Ampere (if it's even a thing, or am I just paranoid?) hits me so hard. I am his, and he is mine, and if that cannot be the case then I will make it be the case. She is gone as quickly as she comes, though, and my rather bloodthirsty daydream is shattered. Gaucho looks at me once, and I find myself hoping that maybe he will choose me over Ampere, even though that isn't the decision he has to make. But he doesn't. He follows her, and though I understand that he has to protect his family and his herd, I cannot help but wish for a moment that it was me running to stand at his side on the battlefield.
"Gaucho!" I shriek, lunging forward as though I can stop him, but he is already gone. "Don't... go." These words are soft, a whisper, as the knowledge that I will never be his first priority sinks in. The anger bubbles in me, and I scream curses at the falls, letting my furious vocals fade into the thunder of the water. I have never allowed such a raw display of emotion before. I have never used such vile words before. I have changed so much from the mare I was when I first arrived in Helovia, and I don't know if I should resist the change or embrace it. I turn back to Rasta, avoiding her gaze, embarrassed by my reactions to Gaucho's departure. I'm not a fighter. If I follow him now, I will only get myself killed, and that won't do me a bit of good. "Were you ever a warrior, Rasta?" I ask her suddenly, the hunger for knowledge sparking in my eyes.
His response. He doesn't even answer the first question. The fact that he almost seems confused is only adding to the idea that I had mentioned earlier - that he didn't understand and that he'd be getting the herd in more trouble. If he couldn't understand mates as in life-long mates, easily discerned by all of us, then he couldn't possibly understand some of the other things that were going on in far more eloquent conversations.
But Soh is desperate, for something - anything, and she reaches out for him. And when the other mare tumbles in and he looks over her like a piece of meat I can see the tension that radiates in her muscles. Idiot! Idiot! You're breaking her more than you can even understand! I'm screaming in my head, ears pinning at the scene before me. And then he says he must go for the Wraiths, he does not answer the question. He left half of it unanswered, and Soh's screech for him is drowned out by the waterfall. She lunges forward, pleading words leaving her lips as he leaves. I, myself, have jumped a few strides forwards. My ears are pinned and my teeth are barred, snapping out at the air where he had once been. But, since I'm already disoriented from this waterfall pounding out the sounds and rattling the vibrations so much that I can't get a clear image I'm stuck two spaces forward with my legs still unevenly spread.
Good rid-dens! Stay away! You're breaking her heart! I'm still screaming in my head, but it is the sound of her turning back around that has my audits perking up. There are still sharp lines on my face showing my distaste for the two creatures that had just fled from the cavern of the waterfall. But the question that flits from the mare's mouth is asking me if I was ever a warrior. The hatred slowly falls from my face and replaces itself with a bit of confusion. I manage to nod my head a little. Once. A really long time ago. I can't do long, violent battles - but I can hold my own. And, so I tilt my head to the side, ears still perked up. Why? Why does it matter?
I never thought that I would lose control like I did when Gaucho left. I never knew that I was capable of exhibiting such a display. And despite how embarrassed I am by it, despite the fact that I have shown a terrible face to a wonderful friend, it is a relief to finally, at last, show some kind of emotion. It is exhausting to keep it in, to hold it tight within my mind, and I know now that if I continue to try it will break me. I will fall to pieces, and I will be weak, and I will have nothing left of the life I have tried so hard to build. I have been good, and nice, and quiet, and timid for my entire life, and look where it's gotten me! Granted, there is a time and place for it. But I am beginning to realize that there is a time and place for anger, and sorrow, and screaming, and crying. There is something to be said for letting it all out. My head is clear. I am free.
Rasta's anger mirrored my own, but as I turn to her to question her origins, her expression turns to one of confusion. I regard her with interest, determination blazing in my orbs, although I have not yet formed a plan. Bits and pieces of thought are beginning to jumble together incoherently, and I cannot separate them and make sense of them yet. I do know this: Gaucho is a warrior. Ampere can fight. Gaucho followed Ampere to deal with a threat. That is a bond that I cannot share with him. She has something I don't, and I am not comfortable with that. If I cannot keep his interest, she will, and I refuse to allow that to happen. At best, I am a toy for Gaucho - I am bright and shiny and physically attractive, but after all of that is gone, we have nothing in common. That will not hold us together.
But if I could fight... if I could accompany him to the battlefield, if I could fly alongside him and help the W.A.R. effort (yes, I have heard of his army, though not directly from him), if I could do anything that he could be proud of... maybe that would be enough. Maybe he would admire me. Maybe he would care for me. Maybe he would want me - and maybe he wouldn't want anyone else. And, as an added bonus, I would be able to kick the stupid blue's ass into next week. (Oh, isn't vengeance sweet?) "I need to learn," I tell her firmly. "I need to do something." I do not elaborate.
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