"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.
Cera.
God forsaken Cera.
Whatever had occurs after she watched him soar over head was a blur. Maybe she cried, screamed, gave up on whatever she'd meant to do, and embarrassed herself in front of family members. There was a chance that she'd been brave as originally done, that she fought valiantly, but after her winged friend came in like her guardian angel, there was absolutely no going back.
Another blank slate in her mind, another time to question all of her actions.
Depression didn't follow this time, the small glass koi fish before her was beautiful, swallowing all of her sorrow. The tri-shaded glass had become the center of her attention she received it. A small hole allowed for it to be awkwardly placed on her horn and hauled about, but lacking a chain, it was sure to break. It left her to drag it away to her own special place, away from the busy epicenter of the sand covered landscape.
Salt tainted every breath, burning her nostrils when larger wifts came in harder. Moonlight shone bright overhead to offer guidance in all of her tasks. The oak was pushed away from the rest, placed randomly but that seemed no issue. She'd seen sparks of grass in the desert, and withered trees. This one had seemed no different; the branches would barely hold leaves in the height of Birdsong. Her safety in it was for the song of birds who sang in the night, and the various holes that had been woven into the exposed roots and trunk. Any herbs she'd gathered for herself had been shoved in them.
Memories of spending time with Africa and Silas here during a simpler time embedded itself here. It'd become her place to hide, to wade in the salt water and to wish on random stars. Tonight, it was a place to hide all, wishing on all of the stars that the glow of her horn would go out for some time so that hiding in the night would be easier.
Spread down to the ground with minor cuts, blood washed away with the burn of water, her vision locked on her only company. A quiet bird had joined her, not releasing a single note from it's beak. Sorrow poured into her once more, but never fell down to the same level as once. She'd been the cause of injury to her friend, blank minded because she must of blacked out, and chances are, an embarrassment to all of her herdmates.
C e r a</style> & Ilaria hearing your voice, I'm overjoyed
It is only after the encounter with his father at the borders that Cera recalls why he had returned to them in the first place. Sikeax. She deserved an apology, for scaring her, for seeing a friend fly straight into the claws of a pissed off predator was surely terrifying. Yet he couldn’t find the right words, even as he walked past the scuffle of hoofprints to follow her lingering scent to wherever she’d traveled. What was he supposed to say? He didn’t regret what he’d done, not in the least. After all, how could he? If the scenario were to repeat, he would make the same decision every time. She was dear to him, one of the few friends that remained in his life, and it would kill him to see her with the wounds upon her body when they could be upon his. Would she scold him for his actions? Or thank him for keeping her from harm?
Such indecision was nerve-wracking, and Cera couldn’t help the reluctant shuffle of ivory hooves against cream sands, dragging the tips and scoring the earth into ruts of his passing. Ilaria nuzzled the point of his shoulder in an attempt at comfort, though her frustration at his refusal of a healer was still apparent through their mental connection. No matter how annoyed she could become with him, she would always worry for his psyche, and even such a simple matter as nervousness was not too small for her to fuss over.
Despite the ache of his body and the wear of his mind, the cherub continued on, past the desire to sleep for the next hundred seasons and the worry of Sikeax’s potential anger. Even the wounds could not keep him from seeing the lovely maiden, from assuring her that he did not regret his decision to save her at his own health’s expense. With what he knew of the soft-spoken lass, she would likely be wrecked by his actions. Shame was already welling up like a geyser in his chest at that realization, and he hadn’t even laid eyes upon her frame. Sighing into the deadening light of the desert, the young stallion plodded on, eyes on the path she had taken to the waters and the shade.
Even as he approached, a darkened familiar figure upon the horizon, words could not be conjured. So instead he relied on instinct, shuffling forth with clear hesitation and a pleading look in emerald eyes, beseeching her to understand why he’d so blindly leapt between her and immediate danger. "Sikeax?" he called softly, Ilaria chittering gently from his shoulder as she peered at the fae from her vantage point, just as worried over the girl she adored as Cera was. Cera paused, not sure how Sikeax would receive him, and allowing her to come to him instead if she so desired. Head hung at nervous half-mast, peering up at her with wings drooped low and pathetic, seeking forgiveness for his selfless act.
The night took it all away, the tears she might of shed when she'd originally escaped the eyes of herd mates, her troubles, the blood that had finally end it's fall from her cuts. Silence didn't seem so lonely as sleep began to make a slow appearance, beckoning her with a ghostly hand into the darkness so all the past horrors of the previous day could be forgotten for however long she was under.
It's knocked, snatched, ripped from her frail, weak fingers at the sound of her name, all too familiar and sickening when the vocal cords that generate it are from the certain someone who has brought her this far away. Her only companion, the small bird, is startled by the arrival and leaves her with the winged stallion who's followed her out this far. With no place to run, she can only frown in pity for his current state, and feel the full extent of seeing a person that she cares so much forgo to a dark place once more. "C-Cera?" His name has a bad taste when it trembles on her lips and doesn't want to go. She almost has to slap it off of her face to get it out.
For her chosen resting place does nothing. He is out there while she finds herself drowning in a pool of regrets and worry, possibly her own crying pains that is just as wide as the ocean surrounding their home.
Without given consent, her whole body works to instinct and forces her to the gravestone shaded hooves where her legs shake momentarily, threatening to break beneath the weight of her heart. Everything moves straight to him, them(now noticing Ilaria on his shoulder), face showing her emotions. The pair of cream coloured dishes mounted to her head droop to the side of her skull by the time a nicker much like a whimper is offered towards him.
All of her senses lock to him, but her eyes do nothing other than lock to those green eyes, unwilling to see the wounds he placed upon himself for her. Her life is forever loyal to his after he came to save her when the world proved to her that she wasn't ready for such a situation. "C-Cera...? Is that you?" Every part of rational mind screams that it is him, but the rude tricks played on her so many times in the past has made her weary of what her eyes tell her. "Are you okay?" Stupidity slaps her hard because it's the obvious answer that he isn't. She wants so desperately to wake up from some bad dream and to search him out, to see that he's just as well as the day they met, but everything is all too real, and lying to herself now would be the end of her.
Crumbling vocals speak his name in a wounded manner, enough to cause the owner of it to wince. He had caused that, no matter how firmly he believed himself to be right in saving her. He had put the quiver in her sweet voice, the tension that dripped along her spine like corrosive acid. A soft hum was her answer, not sure what she was asking, not certain in how he should respond. Ilaria cooed from his nape, his conflict influencing her own convoluted emotions. She adored Sikeax just as much as Cera, but her love for Cera was boundless, bottomless, infinite. Was she to hate Sikeax for forcing Cera into action with her bad luck of attracting the blow he had taken for her?
Quivering limbs pull her skyward, and the boy's head drooped impossibly lower, a whipped pup approaching its owner tentatively in hopes of forgiveness. But glowing emerald eyes never leave her, worried for any wounds that may have missed his own body to reach their intended target. But it seemed that all her wounds and worries were internal, and as such were the assumed source of her sorrowful shaking. Cera's heart squeezed to see her in such a state, pale hooves lifting to skim hesitantly over the sand to approach her, the comforting instinct too strong to ignore.
Dazed eyes finally move to grasp upon his own, unmoving, and so he does not attempt to break their locked gazes. If she finds comfort in such a thing, who was he to rip it away from her in her fragile state? "Yes, it's me," he assured, framing each word in a layer of soft encouragement, seeking to draw from her the poison of her volatile emotions. Hope to find a way to comfort her, if he could pinpoint with exactness the source of her fear.
Her worry made his eyes soften, pale lips twisting into a small smile. "Yes, I'm okay. Ilaria has healed what she is capable of, and the pain is not unbearable. I will be fine, Sikeax. I swear to you." As he spoke he advanced, moving closer in hopes of his words distracting her enough to grant him the closeness needed to comfort her physically. If Sikeax would even allow it, of course.
Everything about him makes her feel worse, swallowing her sorrow when his earthly eyes meet her sky blue hues, the small smile growing on his facial features enough to make weak happiness cloud her eyes. A low nicker brushes her lips directed towards Ilaria, a repeat of the same kind of her mother had given her as a child to show that she cared. The creature held a spot in her heart as big as the one Cera was holding.
He lies to her though, and she knows it, noting that he says there is pain but it isn't unbearable. Who is she to question the talents of his bonded when they had clearly tried to help the situation? Would offering healing be seen as rude with no intentions of so? Within her mouth, her tongue twitches just as a small lump blocks her throat. Self control keeps her from crying again, she doesn't need to be as emotional as she has in this moment. "Please don't lie. Everyone here knows what happened, and while I will never doubt Ilaria, you still need a bit more." While his body nears her, she doesn't nothing to avoid his contact, taking small steps to him, the weight of worries become heavier as she extends her neck out to him, intending to give more touch than their first meeting with a small hug. Careful to miss all of the places claw marks must be, she longs for the soft caress of his withers against her jaw. "If I wouldn't be insulting her in anyway, would Ilaria allow me to finish what she began? It's her choice." She means every bit of good, whispering to the pair in a tone that tries to mask her sorrow that comes with the attachment of friendship. "Your wounds are more of my fault than your own, and I'd like to make up for them in any way that I can."
Deep within her body, buried below depression and the skittish ways of a wound animal, was her courage, was the bravery that once propelled her forward to save someone she'd held so dear in the past from the clutches of death, evil, the exact embodiment of the Devil himself. It'd gone down the drain with her childish ways when her memories were too thin to clog the drain pipe, washed out to whatever place the pipe it led to took them .
A soft chitter of noise is Ilaria's response to the worried lass, assuring her that despite her misgivings over Cera's injuries, Sikeax was still firmly loved by the red panda settled upon a pale patched spine. Even as tentative words split the air to caress Cera's ears, no offense begins to take root in Ilaria's soul. She is aware that Sikeax cares for her beloved as much as she does, and though her frustration was evident that such deep wounds were unable to be healed by her, it was a fault Ilaria was able to admit to. Sikeax volunteering her own help wouldn't be objected to if it in any way would help her prince.
"I'd never lie, Sia. It does hurt, I admit to it, but not as badly as I think you fear it to be." Vocals are soft as they object, correcting her, as if ever unsure of her reactions with the clouds of emotion and raindrop tears clinging to pale lashes framing magnetic eyes. Relief relaxes the hesitation lacing tension through his features as she reaches for him, happily draping himself around and upon her like an overly affectionate puppy, placing cheek to the softness behind her shoulder and drawing her to his chest. More relieved to have her there, against him, safe and sound even at the cost of his own body, than anything else.
With the lack of able communication between Sikeax and Ilaria, Cera translated the soft hum from his shoulder. "She doesn't mind," he murmured, reluctantly withdrawing from Sikeax. Oh shit, had he gotten his blood on her? That was a sure fire way to make friends. Here's one way to remember me, a big spot of my blood on your pale skin. Would she notice if he tried to check? Or would she think he was checking her out at a seriously inopportune time? Luckily she was speaking, distracting him from his impending meltdown.
"You being well is all I could have asked for," Cera reminded her firmly, retreating only enough so that he could be tended to, though his eyes never dared to stray from her form, as if to assure himself that his job had been done properly and she had truly escaped unharmed.
For her, he was the one couldn't stop her from smiling. Her worries wouldn't die, but each word spoken was a cure. The touch he gave her was more than enough, bathing herself in his embrace when they touch. Anyone else, she would of avoided it, having sweet memories of embrace by others who either ruined her or died, fading out like a flame in a hurricane. When he does pull away, she lingers, almost too long, resistant against letting because she fears he'll end up like the rest.
Permission is granted, and she keeps herself from how she reaches for his mane, intending to pull away the locks where wounds have made their mark. She doesn't want to look, but this is what she lives for, it's what she's supposed to do. A cringe passes her again. Internally, she scolds herself for cringing once more after the first time she'd done it. "I'm sorry if it hurts. We need to wash it, to see what's truly wound. Do you think you could stand it?"
She hates herself more, knowing that clearing away blood with salt water will hurt more than anything else, but the journey to the lake is too far, and she is sure he's in no condition to head back.
Ears turn and fall limp at how he speaks to her. Depression clots her veins even thicker. Someone cares for me. At that, she pulls herself away, having removed his hair from his wounds and out the way, heading back to the ocean with a low hung neck. The waves touch her hooves where she stops. "Thank you, it means more than you think. You probably saved my life back there, and I owe you my own for everything you've ever done for me." Mumbling slow, she pushes her chest against the waves moving out til it is chest deep. Her blues never leave him once she waits, trying to kill her emotions so that it doesn't kill her once more.
OOC: Soooooo sorry for the wait, and the quality. :c
C e r a</style> & Ilaria hearing your voice, I'm overjoyed
Pale skin remains against his own, lingering even as the young stallion feared spreading the stain of his blood to the fair maiden's canvas. With how she seemed to tremble in his hold, he feared that if it were to happen, it would only upset her further. Her reluctance to pull away is unchecked, and Cera allowed her to back away at her leisure. Whatever inspired the most confidence in her was what Cera would make sure to do. It was she who had been most shaken by the incident, and Cera felt responsible for her emotional distress even if it had only been caused by his desire to protect her.
He follows her as her touch leaves his skin, desiring to let it remain for a moment longer. Such wants are foreign to him, for he has only felt them for Ranjiri, Midas, Hototo...to hold such a strong affection for someone outside his family is preposterous at best, and he is confused beyond measure. Even so, her desire to help was honorable, and he grit his teeth and calmed his breathing as well as he could manage as threads of hair were pulled through sticky, scabbing wounds. Wincing as it pulled and stung but bearing it to the best of his ability.
"Of course," he murmured, wading into the water behind her and rocking awkwardly to his knees to get close enough to the water for his wound to be cleaned, her depth differing as she remained standing. As he does he glances up at her, Ilaria sliding happily into the water to paddle about and give Sikeax ample room to work. Each word was a cut to the heart, sympathy and sadness shining through expressive sea-glass eyes.
"You owe me nothing, Sia. Your well-being and your friendship is all I could ask for." His words are soft and sincere, wishing she would believe him if only this one time.
10-29-2014, 08:53 PM (This post was last modified: 10-29-2014, 08:55 PM by Sikeax.)
Find a way to believe in fate
While he hesitates her departure from his hold, she runs her velvet maw against a spot where she hopes isn't wound. The faint red that stains her lips is nothing when she looks him with pain, aware she's worsened what Cera must already be going through. How could she even be prepared for when the wound must be washed, for the pain salt water must bring him? With all others, it would be of been easier, knowing the wounds weren't because of her, or having someone she cared so deeply for. A short list of friends and trusted individuals combined with Cera's kind ways gave him a large spot within her heart, Ilaria given the same in how the pair had together touched her. I'm sorry.
In the embrace of sea water, she drains her sorrows into, wishing her touch wouldn't being him more pain. If only there were words that brought better apologies than just 'I'm sorry.'
He lays before her, soft orbs watching every move the colt makes. When Ilaria slips into the water, a short lived laugh passes between blood stain lips. Her attention then goes to him, affection weighed down with self-loathe when she knows just how much the feeling of salt water is going to be when it comes to touching those wounds.
What he says next makes her heart warm, enlightened and overjoyed by feeling special just for once. Her happiness beams in her facial features like a lantern in the dark. "You always have the right words to say. Thank you," Now, her muzzle pushes against the surface of the ocean waves, body swaying as she allows the tides to take care of the majority, leaving her with less crimson stains. "for making me feel special like no one else ever has." It ends with the final onslaught of water, splashing it against where blood had become lumpy in the clotting process, rubbing the sides of her lips and face along his neck to remove the sticky remains of the attack.