"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.
Where did she stand? On a land lush with Birdsong's opening scene.
Her eyes tried their best to adjust to the light as none of the rays peering from the trees dimmed in the midst of the day. She squinted; hardly capable of noticing how different it was to finally see. No, she dealt with blindness in her time. She preferred to visualize the world through sight, and not the other senses she took for granted. Rather, her own peeve was formed from the transition from darkness to light. She found it hard to explain, and her skull pounded trying to comprehend what had happened since her return.
However, her strange awakening from a blackout did not clarify how an Eden had became a saving grace. The Falls was different from how her former life as an Outcast had been. Her nostrils picked up the scent of aging sprouts planted into the soil made for this season. It was nearly an instinct arising in her since her shrouded appearance during the meeting full of...other horses. She was in thought over floras, but the memory caused her to shudder. It was a miracle she survived, and Seele's appearance made it less intimidating although the unicorn was quite scary in more ways than one. Of course, she stood on herd land, and she kept her thoughts to herself. Never aloud.
Flowers, she needed to find flowers. It was Flora - a name she referred to herself often lately - as a namesake for the herbs among the Helovian land. She relished in being one with nature, and it eased her mind from anxious thoughts. Her large hooves were careful not to stomp on the plants, and her ungraceful form tried its hardest too.
The idea of humming a tuneless song echoed in her head. Immediately, Florabella obliged to the idea, and hummed as her body pressed onward and explored what still had not came to terms with her wits.
Her blue eye flicked towards the saplings nearby. She approached them cautiously, her head dropping to the ground, and she nosed them gently. Maybe if she pretended she knew what she was doing as a healer, she could get less stares from her family. She was inexperienced with her rank, and she regretfully knew the reality of her choice. Still, she sniffed the aromatic scent, and the Eden did not abandon her just yet.
This place, however beautiful, is without many events. Once I finished exploring what natural splendor it had to offer there was little to do but grow fat on the fresh green grasses of spring, and to watch Skýlos play among the fields, snapping at dragonflies and grasshoppers and whatever else was unfortunate enough to catch her attention. I say unfortunate for the simple fact that whatever she managed to get between her teeth was almost instantly torn into pieces, sometimes eaten, most of the time discarded.
The dog is wasteful.
She is currently wasting most of a young rabbit she found partially ensnared in some vines, the dead thing flopping almost comically through the air and against her blue toned cheeks as her teeth do what they do best. The pelt of the thing hangs off in numerous folds, the only thing holding the skin on at all the few remaining tendons that tie it to the flesh, which she has mostly chewed away.
I say mostly, because I have removed several chunks of the rabbit from myself.
She was swiftly punished with a swift kick. I rarely manage to hit her; she’s grown used to my sourness. She finds it a game.
Each time I miss she yips from a fair distance, pink tongue lolling in mockery of my inability to land a blow on even a pup as young as she. She does not understand that this land has made me soft, even with its tribulations; here I am not watched or judged, I simply exist, and most of the time that existence is alone, with only my Skýlos for company.
She is shit company. We will verify this for the record. Most often I am annoyed with her, seconded only be the times I’ve sworn I’d kill her; unfortunately for me, the magic of this land has bound us in such a way that I cannot actually bring myself to the blow, a mystical smack in the jaw. I was capable of killing my own children, spreading them into a bloody paste against the stone floor, and I cannot kill a puppy, pissing on herself with her tail curled up and pressed tight against her belly, blue eyes pleading with me, the racing of her heart surging my own into a frantic pace.
She makes me weak, and disgusted with myself for other times I was not so soft.
Her only suitable use that I have found is discovered as she immediately discards her ravaged rabbit toy and bounds over the crest of a hill, out towards the tree line bordering the clearing we’ve been loitering in. I lazily follow her, half expecting another deer fleeing into the woods as if the dog is of any real threat to it, pausing as I discover that it is an equine mare, who wanders among the fresh grass humming to herself while seeming to work on some saplings bordering the wood.
Skýlos is a blue dart coming at the stranger, mouth open wide to reveal a bloody array of white teeth and a stained, lolling tongue; it’s a smile, but a gruesome one, and despite my own agitations with the whelp, I dislike the thought of anyone else harming her.
"Skýlos!" I bark, the sharp tone halting the pup in her tracks so severely that she tumbles end over end through the grass with her head turned back to me and her ass still launching towards the direction of the stranger. Increasing my speed to a trot to close the distance between myself and the dog, I arrive laughing at my hound, who lies tangled among herself with an incredibly shamed expression writ across her face, not very far from where the equine had been when I’d first noticed the procession of events.
"My apologies," I say, nodding cordially to the lesser woman, overlooking her bare shoulders for the time as I prod at my dog with a dark tinted muzzle to get her back onto her feet and out of her state of self pity, "she’s young, and endlessly stupid."
The paint's own eyes hardly carried itself towards the other direction where a soon-to-be flurry of scenes would take place. Nonetheless, her heart pounded in the wideness of her breast as her head whirred around towards the direction of a scold and immediately, she felt instinct grasp her muscle memory. Her body automatically lunged towards the direction she originally faced - right, and to her disbelief, the plants laid disturbed in her wake. Everything went hastily in those moments.
Her head faced the direction where the sound of hooves beat soundly on the terrain, and a laugh escaped the pegasus nearby with a pitiful creature tangled in a web of weeds and grass. Before, it was a blur; a tint of blue rivaling the illuminating sky's own hue. It stood as a type of canine-like creature before her, and it claimed the spot she once stood.
"No worries...," the mare murmured shyly; eyes focused on the creature than the mare. The words directed towards the canine pierced her although it was not meant for Flora. "I was surprised. That's all."
Whether it was true or not it was merely surprise, her trembling body finally stilled itself. She couldn't make eye contact just yet, but she watched the other mare's muzzle act as aid in lifting the canine back to her feet. Her chance at trying to master - or whatever she intended to do in the first place (as it had escaped her during the interruption) - the children of the soil were gone, but she had no heart to explain her own thought process. Unless she had witnessed the scene.
Regardless, she wanted a little redemption for the canine. "Your companion is beautiful." she told the mare. It made her feel a tad better to compliment.
I nod in response to her simple dismissal of the dashing dog, who now sits with that same bloody tongue rolling from her lips and an apologetic smile knitted into her features; it’s a weird expression on the fleshy pup, her brows thick and raised as if she is laughing, her mouth broad as the lower jaw seems to bob in time with the glimmer in her eyes. Her tail, an appendage designed for annoyance and destruction, wags furiously in the grass behind her, the swish swish sound of the friction filling the air with an additional, useless noise aside from the bees droning about the young flowers and the birds that chirrup in their high homes.
I’m not sure how truthful her words are; the mare trembles and quakes and has trampled her saplings. Still, the dog is fine, as is she. I have rarely heard of a mare young as she dropping dead from a failed heartbeat.
Already growing disinterested in the conversation, I am lulled into my thoughts and almost pulled away from her side, despite the obvious topic of the infant trees that my dog has caused an early doom for. In the face of the truth of her trees, she still finds it necessary to compliment the idiot hound, to which I am instantly brought back into the conversation with bright, blue eyes that twinkle humorously that she finds such a plain animal pretty.
"She is plain," I smile, ears pricked towards the uniquely marked mare. My simple rebuttal of her complement is quickly contrasted by the wriggling mess of puppy that now squirms with her white belly exposed to the sun, inching nearer and nearer the mare who finds her beautiful with attempts to lick at her complementer's fetlocks. She receives no complements from me, at least not for something as useless as appearance, and from the emotional connection that we share I can feel her elation struggling against my refusal of the mares words.
I glance at her, a grimace of disdain flashing across my features for but a moment before I return my eyes to the gentle natured equine. The poison within me writhes and hisses, already aggravated by the noxious display of naivety that Skýlos puts on, aggravated by the pity I feel for her flightless body. No wonder she wasted time on trees. "If you hurry and get the roots of the ones not snapped or bruised, you might save some," I say softly, not entirely sure why I am drawn to help her with the stupid trees just because she has petted my dog’s ego, confessing half as much to her, "I can help. It’s Skýlos’ fault, after all."
The dog immediately desists her game of rolling, looking at me with pleading, apologetic eyes before leaping to her paws and prancing over to the site of the ruined, infant grove.
Perhaps it is because it is because it is our fault, or simply that I am seeking to ease the ache of my soul through small deeds of kindness, to grit my teeth against the impulse to hurt her as deeply as the young trees have been and to redeem the innocence I have shattered with my own hooves. She is innocent, so very so; that she spends her days among the Earth’s children and hums to herself and trembles in fear from the approach of a puppy and a stranger proves it to me. There is something sweet in this, alluring and delightful; she has not been soured by the world. Perhaps, if she is lucky, she never will be.
Bored as hell, I walk through the forests of my home. Pretty trees here and pretty flowers there. Damaris trails behind me, skipping and jumping around my fetlocks and my tail. I swish it back and forth for her, letting her play. As she gets older, I find she generally has more energy than I do. I wonder how to entertain her and find myself at a loss. When she gets bored of chasing my tail she runs ahead to scout the path ahead of us. I nicker to her, urging her to be careful. Though this is our home and should be safe, you can never be too careful, especially since she is young and unknown to most who live here. Though she disappears from my sight, I notice that I'm getting feelings of... satisfied hunger. She has happened upon some dead thing. Normally I would discourage anyone from eating dead things when you don't know where they come from. Don't want any diseases or some shit that's gonna kill you. But with Damaris's ability to destroy stuff with her spit.. something tells me she'll have a stomach of steel, too. It's some destroyed rabbit, bits and pieces lying about. I've come upon it now and Damaris is munching happily, her teeth easily shredding the meat. Of course, some of the work has already been done, presumably by a creature similar to her.
Meat is .. not really my thing. I mean, if I ate meat. But I don't. I'm a vegetarian - it's kind of what horses do. I'll leave that red stuff to the hellhound pup. She smears her snout in it and stains her ivories red with its blood. Ew. I take a gulp of my drink and fill my senses with the burning taste of alcohol instead of the blood that runs down her throat. Of course, I start wondering what nearby must have torn this rabbit to shreds, and why it wasn't eaten. Though, I can understand hunting for fun, it seems a waste of energy to me. I keep walking and soon find the answer to my question. Two mares - one with wings, one without - and a small puppy on the ground. It doesn't look quite as threatening as Damaris, but looks of maybe the same age. I urge Damaris to be cautious in my mind. She barks at me and picks up the rabbit, trailing after me, happily preoccupied with her scavenging.
I stop a few yards out from the trio and observe quietly. The green on the ground may have contained more than just grass, and seems to be quite disturbed. By the pup? Perhaps. That must have been what destroyed the rabbit. Disturbed.. destroyed... Note to self, keep fragile things away from the puppy. The pegasus looks.. somewhat disgruntled. The spotted mare seems timid and nervous. I look on with mild interest, having no plan to go assist them. Not my business, and seems a waste of energy. Hmph. Damaris would have encouraged me to go in and be friendly and helpful, but her meal keeps her from pestering me.
Florabella was genuinely shocked to hear her own words denied to the wiggling creature. The mare truly believed there was beauty in others - plain, or colorful. When she could finally see it in herself, she would imagine the sight; her outline creating the tones in her fur, and the spots which dyed brown with white. Here, she glanced at the winged mare's own beauty and the rich choices of hue a deity granted her upon creation. A pinch of envy sparked within her, but she couldn't easily brush away the thought of appearance, and how the eyes of an entity saw another. She silently wondered if she appeared "plain" to the mare.
The pup sensed the compliment, it seemed, by how she inched closer. It was miraculous how she kept her ground and awaited some betrayal in those bright eyes. Waiting; and wait she did to see a hint of a pink tongue bound to caress the gentle giant. It took time, but she couldn't help but smile. It was a little lop-sided, awkward, as if she hadn't smiled in awhile, but it was an attempt she was willing to make. The mare spoke again, and the paint lifted her head although the remainder of her gaze upon the pup stayed for a few seconds, She couldn't make eye contact yet, but her face was positioned the same way when she originally introduced to the duo.
"That would be appreciated." she finally replied; embarrassed to receive help from a stranger. She hardly knew what she was doing, but she figured attempting to gather anything would benefit somehow. Oh! What am I to do - to gather? Her silent dialogue spun in her skull, and it evoked the raw helplessness she begun to feel - which, no doubt, began to show on her face as she glanced towards the disturbed area rooted with plants, and what was left of them. In her movement, she could have sworn she had saw another blur, or she was perhaps, delusional. Her body tensed at the thought of someone preying on the conversation between two mares and a canine. Witness more of it and it would be easy to be used against me, stranger. Her face fell into an expression of plead for a fortunate day.
Her shyness is almost endearing, a fleeting softness that draws from my memories of slave girls with barren faces and cowed dispositions, always sweet, always tactful. I miss my slaves, many days in this land. My mane is never as clean or without tangle as it was in prior years, and I am horribly reminded of my encounter with the oafish unicorn who assisted me gathering my mane to cart infantile, egg form Skýlos about in. Stretching both wings towards the heavens as we begin our work on the young trees, I am reminded again of the incident as the wind blows through the growing gap in my feathers.
I glance at the dog, half heartedly chewing on her paw, my eyes narrowed with disgust. If I had known that this was what I was going to get when I found the egg, I’d have let the idiot have it. The puppy has few uses and cannot even assist in repairing the damage she has caused in any other manner than disciplining the vehicles that had delivered her to the scene of the crime, and I resent her for the way she makes my very body want to smash her into pieces; how my mind weeps when presented with such a violent thought.
I return to the saplings. They are less tedious than my fool of a hound.
Who quite suddenly abandons her paws and is off again, a blue dart out of my vision. I glance at the strange mare, an apology writ once again on my face. "Excuse me, one moment. My idiot has run off again."
Turning around to deal with the puppy, I discover another in the distance, his own young dog alongside him chewing on what seems to be the remains of Skýlos’ rabbit. Dog is charging with full innocent might towards them both, gleaming blue eyes trained on the other puppy who has the most wonderful toy in all the land, desperate to reach the game before I catch her.
It is interesting, this connection of emotion; how she knows she’s about to get kicked and I know that she gives not a damn so long as she gets to touch the other puppy before I get there. I roll my eyes exasperatedly at the entire situation, tail slashing through the air and striking my sides quick viciously as I close the small distance between the two parties; enough time, of course, for Skylos to reach the pair, assumingly to raise chaos with her new canine friend judging by the sheer elation I feel surging through me as they meet.
"Excuse me," I say for the second time to the unicorn stallion, endlessly frustrated that my stupid dog has forced me into poor company for the second time today so that I can apologize and barter for their kindness in the face of her obscene capriciousness. Snatching the pup up by the scruff of the neck, I give the man a nod before trotting back over to the trees, not so gently dropping her to the ground alongside the ruined grove.
Her mental anguish is almost punishing in and of itself, until it is paired with that face. Growling with the sigh that escapes my lips, I glance back over my shoulder at the stag after giving yet another apologetic wince to the equine I am attempting to help. This game of playing nanny grows old. Perhaps she would like a dog. "Do you mind coming closer so that Idiot Dog might play with your companion and I can still repair the damage she’s already done? I can’t focus with all this pouting going on."
The quieter one of the two, the one with the spots, barely seems to notice me. Well, okay. Not sure what to feel about that. So I guess I don't really feel anything. Clearly, though, whatever she does is less interesting than what happens next. A bundle of fur is bounding toward myself and Damaris. She runs past me, completely ignorant of my presence, and heads straight for Damaris. The young hellhound sees her attacker and her eyes light up with excitement. She lowers her front half, her haunches up in the air, wiggling almost as much as her tail. She holds the rabbit remains in her mouth, and is completely ready to tumble with the oncoming puppy. The two meet and tumble over, each trying to get the rabbit remains. I watch silently, mild amusement on my face. Don't bite, remember the acid. It's something she and I have both been working to keep track of. As she ages her saliva gets more acidic. It might hurt her new puppy friend if we aren't careful.
The other mare approaches, and there's no mistaking the disgruntled look on her face. Damaris backs off and leaves the rabbit alone, looking up at the big figure approaching them. The mare apologizes, and I see that the smile she gives me isn't just apologetic, but pained. I can't help but chuckle, and she grabs the puppy by the scruff of her neck, returning to the other mare. Damaris pouts and grabs the rabbit, nomming it as a consolation prize. I think for a moment that the interaction is over, but the one with the puppy beckons me and Damaris over. I walk over and stand next to her and glance at the mess of roots and herbs. Damaris follows and offers to share the rabbit with the puppy - Idiot Dog. Takes care of that problem pretty easily.
I look at the two ladies. They are both quite lovely, but I find myself somehow attracted to the more talkative one. There's something about her that is.. full of life. Not always pleasant perhaps, but then, who can be pleasant all the time? I blink slowly, my white eyes taking in their little movements. Seconds tick by, and finally I feel that maybe I should say something. "I'm Rostislav. Damaris would be happy to keep your.. puppy.. entertained."
Returning to the saplings, her large, sculpted head continued to nose the them idly. Silently. Her heart was pounding before, but it transitioned back into a musical beat she would dub, "Life." Life craved the beating heart, and the veins were the carrier of what the heart craved in return. Nature was so peculiar it was an experience she'd rather not give up so easily in the midst of her weak attitude. The pretty mare made it impossible to give up on attempting to carrying what she could between her teeth. More damage to it. She was no better than anyone vandalizing the environment. When it finally crossed her mind, she had come to a conclusion: there was no no other method to carry vegetation, she happened to stumble upon in her little exploration around the Falls.
The pup decided to bound off towards the direction the mare thought caused her to succumb to a brief, delusional state. But she was not insane - like a few others she encountered. Just odd, she assured herself. She wondered whether it would be confirmed, but the mare followed suit after her dog with exasperation. She might have noticed an apologetic look carved into an equine face, might not. Rather, it should have been the other way around. If she wasn't aware of the restless paws hardly touching the ground in her "gallop", she would have thought herself poor company! The paint attempted to smile; again, reassured by some confident part of her soul, "Okay."
The two pups' interactions were short-lived by the winged mare's arrival to greet a newcomer not far off from her idle position. The owner of the other creature wasn't a familiar sight, and it left her quite weary of their presence. They appeared to be able to mow her down with only a flick of their raw strength in spite of their height difference. The dual horns were of surprise. Seele only had one horn in a cone-shape, but these horns were different. Strange. A unicorn? Her ignorance wasn't far-fetched from her life as a hermit in Helovia for the longest time.
She was embarrassed to see the mare return, and it wasn't the scruff becoming a handle for a mouth to carry between one's teeth. Her face revealed genuine affection for this mare if she had decided to return when she could have easily pursued a conversation with the two-horned unicorn - who visited them and introduced himself (now that she had a clearer view and he spoke with a male tone) as Rostislav.
Maybe if they all got along... No, they would forget about her. She fumbled for the words which would not sound like a pleading foal wanting childish things. They all have names. She never learned the mare's name whom she had indebted herself to. It was the best chance to learn without sounding like a fool for never bringing it up before. "I'm...Florabella. But you can call me Flora if you want." After a long time, a part of her wanted her to share one section of her lengthy name, and she obliged. Or felt threatened if she disobeyed.
Much to Dog’s delight, the stallion agrees to join our small gathering at the infant grove, the blue and white beast leaping with more exuberance than a squirrel on a sugar high towards the hellhound pup who has found her rabbit. She of course attempts to start a game of tug-o-war, which I glance at through the corner of an eye, thankful that for once it is not my tail that is the subject of this heinously foolish game.
"Skýlos," I tell the stranger as he implies that he’d like to know her name, to which the puppy yips playfully and prances about like an idiot. I won’t elaborate that her true name means essentially what he has called her in the tongue of this land, because it makes little difference and the puppy responds best to that title, anyway. The game of introductions begins, the stallion introduced as Rotislav in the same sentence as his hidden query about the dog and the mare following suit with her own set of callings.
"Cealestis, of Elysia," I add, allowing each of them a name to find me by later on should they wish, the name of my homeland dancing and songlike on my tongue as it always is. Halfhearted, the words are said around the saplings which I have already returned to, studiously tucking the last salvageable plant I can see back into the earth. Its easier to deal with trees than speaking beings, and through our emotional connection, Skýlos sends me waves of comfort, for more comfortable among the others than I am – yet she is also not cursed, her heart the pure sound of chimes caught in wind while mine is the savage maelstrom of war and famine lilting across an emerald vale.
Maybe it is noticeable in how my wings have tucked more tightly to my sides, though I tend to keep my needs to kill or depart to myself. The pair have done nothing wrong by the laws of this land, and I have invited both into my company. I must deal with the conversation that ensues; so is the price for the finding of my sisters. "We’ve saved what we can, Flora," I say, looking at her through pupiless blue voids, stating the obvious but not sure what else to begin with, "a bit of water and a vigilant eye to ensure they remain rooted should spare some of them."
C e a l e s t i s</style> who knows how deep the heart runs</style>
06-02-2014, 08:52 PM (This post was last modified: 07-02-2014, 03:48 PM by Rostislav.)
Rostislav
The ladies around me could not be more different. The one with the pup, though she has not had outbursts of any sort, seems to be much more aggressive and tenacious. Her strange blue eyes with her blue mane and tail are strange to me and a strong distraction from anything else going on. But at the same time, the luminosity of her eyes matches mine, and I find kinship in that. Plus, our canine companions. But the timid one has my attention as well. She speaks up when I introduce myself, naming herself as Florabella. Alright.. so flower lady. That works for me. I give her a thin smile and a grunt. I don't mean to be so discourteous of course, but I just... well.. effort. I can't say that I feel like making the damned effort. The blue-eyed one introduces herself - Cealestis - and the pup - Skylos. Well, there's definitely one that has my attention more than the other. If I were the predator creepy stalker man type I'd be after Flower Lady. She doesn't seem like she'd be able to fight me off. But I'm not a creeper. I like my ladies to enjoy the ride.
But we're talking about plants. Why are we talking about plants? I look down at the weeds beautiful flowers around me. Nothing looks particularly remarkable to me, but apparently they mean something to the ladies next to me. I stare drunkenly, and Damaris is distracted by Skylos's old catch. Huh. Flowers. We... save the flowers? I look down at my hooves and lift one, realizing that I'm standing on some. I take a couple steps back and grunt an apology. Awkwaaaaard.
"Errr.." What Cealestis says makes sense, but I have no idea why we're trying to save them. "Garden?"
The conversation is going better than she has expected, but she is not able to predict the future and how it will rise or fall. Rostislav only grunted a reply, but she did not know how to respond to that. She nearly did the same, but the idea would more likely produce an awkward moment. The last of the names between the three of them was finally given: Cealestis, the one Florabella would owe gratitude towards with a lovely name rolling off her tongue. The flowers that were not low in durability were spared from the momentary tragedy, but it proved difficult to blame the dog who was still reveling in her youth. Even the price had been easily paid with kindness. It never crossed her mind if she had actually performed some work as well, but her eyes were never leave the garden until her flora children grew up to see a thriving adulthood. They had their injuries, but the stems aren't going to bend and break or become brittle. Not like her.
"Thank you, thank you," the timid mare murmured repeatedly until she caught herself and her expression turned bashful. "C-Cealestis." It was odd how her fear had begun to melt, but she still felt the dread in the back of her head - warning her not to stray too far from her comfort zone. Sooner or later she wouldn't be able to lean on the crutches that was metaphorically holding her together. She could lean on closer companions until she could lean on her own, right? Her own legs holding her body were about to melt, but she couldn't claw her way to that crutch, but she had to distract herself. Vision upon the courtesy of the stallion backing away from some of the saplings instead. It was a thankful expression that etched upon her face for the stranger. He queried about the flora the two mares were replanting, and she nearly replied automatically but her face fell. A garden sounded like a wonderful idea, but she needed permission or something to produce crops and flowers there? "A garden...I don't know really."
The drunken male grunts in reply to the names given to him and I loose a roving stare of ice and daggers across him for his rudeness. Surely he won’t give a shit that I am judging him as he doesn’t bother putting on a show of niceties as I expect of others, but it is worth the effort on my behalf to vent some of the blistering steam that rises from my breast at the sight and notice of his behavior. I allege as well that he is quite possible so trashed from whatever is in that shining flask that he won’t notice at all that I’ve looked at him like a bit of refuse smudged into my coat, and its quite fine by me either way – I just know from now to expect a lack of social etiquette from this man and, perhaps most importantly, that I didn’t need to be around him more than was necessary.
Instead of dwelling on my desire to slap him, I refocus my attentions on the garden and Flora, whom may be without wings but is certainly to my preference; had this been Elysia, I would have attempted to purchase her from whoever kept her, for she had the perfect demeanor to be a talented handmaiden and I found that she instilled peace in me with her shyness and gentle eyes, qualities that I had loved in my most favorite of servants back in the palace. Often I wonder as to their health and wellness, as I do now – they were good to me and I to them, and while I never loved them, I did care for their happiness more so than I did most.
My ears rise and my gaze brightens at her thanks, the sweetness in her voice evident and delightful as I catch each note of praise and elation with a smile inching across my face. Skýlos yips annoyingly and darts in an enthusiastic circle about Damaris and the rabbit, her heart overwhelmed with my sudden sense of happiness, a rare emotion to course through her from myself. I nod with my smile still gracing my face, feeling no abashment as some when faced with a blathering and appeased girl for all my years upon a throne, waiting to truly rule it – surely Hemera would never have made it to the rank of Queen with her mind scattered across Loorien as it was, for Elysia was insane and cruel, built on hideous foundations, but never the fool. "Dog ruined them. It was the least I could do."
A short silence breaks the sound of voices before the drunkard known as Rotislav asks a most obvious question and again my pupiless eyes flicker back towards him, a single ear slipping back as my teeth grip down hard on my tongue and bring the bright, metallic taste of blood to my attention. Thankfully for me, it is tender Florabella who responds most immediately, spurring my agitation into curiosity at the crestfallen way in which she speaks the words. Perhaps she does not wish to garden without permission, but I don’t see the harm in a flowerbed or two in a herd land the size of this – and there was always the option of keeping one in the wild lands. "I do not think the Czarina would mind so long as you grew things native to this land," I say, leaning as I am prone on the female ruler of the land rather than the male – no matter that he is a more suitable breed, his secondary head makes him ill suited for the tasks of ruling as I see it, "surely additional food supplies are never spurned."
C e a l e s t i s</style> who knows how deep the heart runs</style>
The pair of mares could not be more opposite, in my humble opinion, and yet they seem so calm and at ease with each other. There is, however, this air of... social protocol that seems to be softly veiling these interactions. And perhaps I can only see it (feel it?) because I am on the outside looking in, taking no part in whatever the social etiquette is for such a situation, whatever situation I'm in. The gaze of soft blue eyes turned hard is not lost on me, as she might have expected, but I am stone-faced in response. My skin is thicker than that, and such a penetrating gaze fails to do just that. Florabella speaks, and both I and Cealestis are distracted. More social etiquette - a thank you, and a 'but of course' are exchanged. I suppose the pleasantries make sense - I use them myself quite a bit - but at the same time it seems so dull and boring. Damaris is having the time of her life with Skylos, and I'm loathe to interrupt them. Perhaps a few minutes more?
Though the blue-eyed seems more than annoyed at my question, what surprises me is the pitiful answer of the spotted one. Really? You're trying to tend plants and you don't even know if there is supposed to be a garden? I can't help but think that this is a shortcoming if there ever was one. My lips begin to part as they form a retort, but I bite back the words. I don't feel inclined to engage in this exchange. In fact, as the seconds tick by, I realize that I don't feel inclined to engage in this.. moment. So much for a 'few minutes more'. Impatience begins to rise inside me, and I can feel that the play between the two canines has changed tones. I bow my head politely to the two mares, finally acquiescing to play along with the formalities apparently expected of me. Ladies, I will leave you to your gardening. May your toes and muzzles be evergreen.
Turning to leave, I murmur Damaris's name, calling her attention to me. She sends a parting nip at Skylos, then bounds after me, still on a high from having someone to play with. She seems to consciously choose to ignore my less positive emotions, and though at first I want to berate her for not sympathizing with me, I stop short. Let her have fun.. selfish as I am, I don't want to bring her down with me. She means too much to me for that.
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