"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.
11-16-2014, 01:45 PM (This post was last modified: 11-23-2014, 03:07 PM by Odd.)
THE PHILOSOPHER IS DEAD...
Riddle me this, old-timer: A nightmare for some. For others, as a saviour I come. My hands, cold and bleak, it's the warm hearts they seek.
The answer?
Death.
The falling snow barely seems to bother to cover the emaciated frame. Practically translucent already, death surely in this case came as a saviour. Besides, there was hardly anything to kill. Once a teacher, now forgotten. Old news, and still his blood taints the ground just as surely as yours would. A gnarled horn marks him as one of the Basin, just as surely as his blind gaze suggests who he is, or rather, was. In stark contrast to Myrddin's pale skin, is a piece of a black feather. It had been clipped - perhaps the old man had some fight left in him after all.
Ashes to ashes ...
Here at the top of the world.
THE THIRD CLUE...
III. The third clue, revealed from the death of MYRDDIN is A PIECE OF A BLACK FEATHER.
Miss the previous clues?
Not a problem! Just reply to this thread so that you can have access to clue 3 and any subsequent clues. You are welcome to continue forming teams and letting us know who is in the team in an OOC note at the bottom of your post.
Someone from each team must post here in order to have "found" the clue.
This clue will be available for ONE WEEK. During this week, you may post and submit your guesses via PM to the OFFICIAL ACCOUNT. At the end of one week (7 days), we will close this clue and post the fourth clue. Get in on this plot while you can!
11-16-2014, 03:41 PM (This post was last modified: 11-16-2014, 03:46 PM by Odd.)
The snow falls and falls and falls. Although here, closest to the God of the Sun, Gaucho feels farther away than ever. The rays of light impact the snow in an overwhelming display of brightness, but the heat of the Sun is still distant. The ground is covered by endless white that blinds his eyes and makes him feel cold and small. The flames that linger on his wings seem to fizzle as his energy diminishes. He has been doing too much - acting as a solo lead during Sohalia's absence, trying to fulfill his duty to his deity, trying to protect the Throat, and trying to stop these murders.. Exhaustion overwhelms the Wildfire as his gaze surveys the dead body. He is so tired he barely remembers coming here - seeing the body reminds him of his own mortality. He needs to sleep, to eat... later. For now, he has a job to do. He needs to report what he has found to the others - Cera, Elsa, Oxy. They need to know.
His hardened gaze surveys the blood amidst the snow, emotionless his stormy gaze scans for clues. Whoever the murderer is, they haven't been taking care not to leave clues it seems, for at each scene there has been something obvious ..
Feattherrrssss Mara whispers in his mind, looking at the broken black feather that lingers on the white body.
Who the creature is, Gaucho doesn't know, doesn't care. He's dead, and thus the darkness lingers still. The urge to complete his task for the Sun God, to break the Throat away from Helovia gives him strength enough to take to the skies. His hoof prints are large and obvious in the unmarred snow, as flaming wings pull him into the sky. He casts one last look at the pale body, ensuring that he has noted every detail, before heading home towards the Throat. He will find Cera and perhaps the boy can deliver the message to the others. For now, Gaucho just needs to sleep.
On a flood of juvenile bravado, he wandered through the murky world and crossed into heavenly plains, where even the unholiest of moments conspired together and forget about christened deities; dragged his eyes over to the fallen corpse just nearby, pale, bloodied, tangled with famine, and most certainly dead. Was this what Aithniel and Adelric discussed, beings found, linked, with some otherworldly event, smothered and stifled, clawed and extinguished, barren and soulless? He was lost in the midst of silence, others drifting in and out, wondering and pondering, studying the lifeless form; had he ever seen one before? Death had not yet had an effect on his young mind; he was neither rattled nor deceived, thrown into fits or suffering from paranoia, lacking a fundamental understanding of how one could be there one moment, and gone the next, never to return, never to breathe, never to infuse their lives into others’. He inched ever closer, lowering his maw towards the puddles of blood and the drained moments of ichor, staining glorified, hallowed fields full of crimson (would everything be red if this wasn’t stopped?), staring over the ivory figure, the rise of a horn, a rapier, the loss of a wiry sage, searching and looking for clues. His sharp, keen gaze spotted one moments later, a clipped, ebony feather, as if the old, barren, frail beast had carved one last scythe hack into another’s shoulder, left them hurting and wanton as he fell. The distinction of the black plume left an interesting, intriguing notion: it certainly couldn’t be the King of Spies, Sacre, for he had held a cutlass, just like him, with no wings in sight. It still didn’t rule out the Throat though (and he shifted a little when he spotted a massive Pegasus drumming around the sights, the sounds, the open, aperture of the old man’s grave), for their world must have been full of fliers hastening over dry cliffs and rocky deserts, descendants of dragons and towering fires. Quickly, swiftly, he bent out of sight, tangling into the shadows, running back over hills, insistent on reporting his findings to the rest of his beloved musketeers, longing to take down whatever ill will threatened to plague over them.
Something strange was afoot. Thor hadn't really mentioned what exactly was going on when he brought me to the first dead body and to meet the group of which I was a part of. Thor, Ktulu, Archibald, and I. Together our team was supposed to find the killer of the first body, though I exactly didn't know where to begin. I was new to Helovia and in thus didn't know everybody that lived within its borders. But I could help with information and keep an eye out.
That was how I came upon this place.
My hooves had carried my white body across the land searching for anything or anybody to do with the clues that had been given to us. Over time we, as a team, had narrowed down the suspect pool but there was still too many souls to choose from. But when I came across this third new carcass, I shivered. I hadn't exactly paid attention to the last body I was present for so this one was practically the first I'd ever seen. Bile rose hung in my throat as I forced myself to look over the body of this unknown victim. For a little while I was beginning to think that maybe the killer was smarter this time and didn't leave a clue, but then I caught sight of something: a single black feather damaged from what I would guess to be the fight.
I forced myself to look a little longer at the body - paying no attention to the others that had been here- that laid strewn upon the ground to make sure I wasn't missing anything else. Once I was sure I hadn't I nodded and gave a small prayer to whomever this was that fell and then headed out. The others needed to know of this new clue and they needed to know about it soon because who knows what it could hold.
"Astra's speech"|"Astra's thoughts"
WORD COUNT;; 321
TAGGED;; ---
OOC;; TEAM ATAK: Archibald, Thor, Astraea, Ktulu
11-18-2014, 12:27 AM (This post was last modified: 11-18-2014, 10:19 AM by Rostislav.)
They've sent me out to find the next clue. Ghost especially seems to know what she's about, and I suppose I best be listening. After all, she's the new Czarina. It's.. sort of important right? I've heard chatter about another death and followed the voices and hoofbeats. Damaris walks along beside me, nearly keeping pace with my stride: I walk slower, and she walks faster. She yawns, bored with the murder mystery. As long as I'm not the one getting murdered, she's ambivalent. 'Go hunt. Play. Do stuff.' I encourage her, although my words are not exactly eloquent. She wags her tail and bumps into me affectionately. Though her saliva does not hurt me the way it would hurt others, it still burns my hairs and my skin, and we try to avoid her showing affection that way. She bounds off, bits of snow scattering as her paws dig in, and I stop for a moment to watch her go. 'Get me at end.' She calls back as she goes, and her lightheartedness lifts my own spirits. I start walking again, and find myself soon upon what has everyone's attention: the next murder victim.
I don't know him, but the twisted horn on his head indicated he might possibly be from the Basin. The body is emaciated.. skin and bones, and the dusting of snow over it doesn't flatter the corpse at all. A stallion, with eyes as pale as mine. Though there are a couple others present, I don't hear mention of a name. What stands out like a sore thumb is the black feather that lies atop his barrel. I approach and eye it closely, not touching it to disturb the crime scene. It's clipped, strangely enough, not just a loose feather having fallen from a passing bird. That's enough for me, and I turn and head to find one of the Unorthodox Four. We need to do some groupthinking to figure out how this third clue relates to the other two.
Something was wrong, out of place. The last while Kirah thought that something horrid was and is happening. She had heard rumors, as one does, but she hadn't thought them true. The things she heard was just a bit too strange, a bit too awful to wrap her mind around. It was this unease that brought her to hack of to these fields, where she so often comes.
The winds is howling now, singing a song of sadness and tragedy. Snow softly drifts down, silent and haunting. Like a blanket slowly drifting down to settle upon one's skin, but this blanket will slowly suffocate you, and you will only know when it is too late.
She raises her head as smell drift to her. A small crowd has gathered in the fields, and with then comes another smell, one Kirah sadly knows all too well. Death. she makes her way and stands off a bit, swishes her tail with unease. A body lays in the snow, old and crumbled. From what she can see, there isn't much left of whatever unlucky horse lies here. But she can see a horn. The body is pale, she can see that from the little skin that is left. How has nobody noticed until now?
And now she knows, the rumors are true. Death has settled upon this haven, surely leaving a scar later on. Maybe the scar is the blood that stains the snow.
But something else is left behind. A clipped feather, dark and ugly.
"Speech" Tag;; @[] Notes;; Four strangers; Parelia, Ira, Fig, Kirah.
Credits: Whit's tables were an inspiration | Coding by Schwartze | Image
The snow fell softly, the barest kiss of a blizzard swaying through the breeze, tangling itself into the knots and matted locks of the Haruspex’s mane. The air was thin, as it should have been in that time of snow and dry, frozen wind—yes, that’s it, that’s was what was making breathing so hard, oxygen so difficult to catch into his lung. For his breath was rapid, and growing in speed—but shallow and brittle, as he looked down upon a ground barely, carelessly covered in loose, halfhearted flakes.
Ordinarily, his mind would be abuzz with pleasure, absolute joviality, supreme contentment with the image of death. Surely an older corpse would’ve pleasantly helped to obliterate the monotony of young, fresh bodies, for he very rarely had the opportunity to study age in the bones, in the hide, in the gummy cataracts of his elders.
He did not think, though. For the first time in several seasons—several years, in fact—Zikar-Sin’s mind hang frozen and dead, black and lifeless, as he beheld his lost Master.
“Oh,” he said, tiny and soft.
Death did not scare him; indeed, Sin supposed the only way death would ever be able to affect him is if he were to die that very moment. It was an inevitable course of action; the goal, prime and ultimate, of life itself. Surely the Haruspex had seen this coming—had even expected it of his Master, aging and dusty, to find some crevice in a wood somewhere and succumb to nature’s course. Would it have pained Zikar-Sin then, to have seen the decayed bones of his master in a shaded glade somewhere, to witness boars and wolves nibble on the bones of someone who used to be great and knowledgeable?
Sin didn’t know; he still could not think.
Once upon a time, before the void of his person had truly swallowed whatever sort of empathy he felt for others of his kin, his clan—before all that, hadn’t this been his reason to be? Hadn’t Myrrdin told him, long ago, to let go of the fruitless, groundless worries of society; that his true purpose, served faithfully in the Basin, was at the elbow of someone white and wizened, blind and gruff, wise beyond comprehension?
“Question not your allegiances or your duties, youngling. For you belong to me.”
“Ah…” he said again, quite at a loss; deplorably, indescribably abandoned by the anchor of any reason. The world was black and groundless, a void, and Sin peered down through the frosted glass of his monocle upon a body that would never again provide such an anchor. No, it was the arcane energies of the God of Time now, those duties swallowing him happily, a duty he could perform, a service he could provide. Myrrdin had been gone and lost for a while now. It made no sense that Sin couldn’t breathe.
And yet.
His eyes traveled, unblinking and dry, amongst the pale corpse and realized, suddenly, the root of his shock; an inkblot against the pale hide caught his gaze, and some burst of light in the blackness of his vision—some sudden thought, wondrous and welcome in its manifestation—penetrated his paralyzed reason. Feather, he analyzed quickly, all of his focus latching onto the miniscule indication of treachery, a black feather. Related, I presume, to whatever creature of darkness we are pursuing at this time. Yes. And thus, the shock was explained by this discovery: that his master had been murdered not by the grip of age, but the hands of something black. And feathery.
Perhaps it was the return of cognition that finally opened his lungs once more; his breath was shaky, but it was deep as well, and he expanded his chest and expelled the poison that had begun to grow in his chest. There was a moment—a second--but….no, it was gone now. His heart was a void, and remained so. Sadness fled the unnatural, lonely beast of philosophy.
Quite analytically, he wondered, briefly, if his Master would’ve wanted a burial of his corpse. Ultimately he decided against it; it seemed to be a sentimental, foolish thing, quite unnecessary, especially when the old man’s corpse was already surrounded by a field bathed in flowers and the beauty of something natural, wholesome. Besides—what would the flesh of life mean to a dead soul? Myrddin certainly wouldn’t be using it, any time soon.
Sin looked down once more upon his Master’s face; for the first time, those milky eyes were blank. “….Sir,” he said, inclining his head; he turned from that place, and climbed down the mountain. He had a report to make.
Another murder. I move forward, catching the ungodly scent. My dark blue eyes skim over the poor creatures body. When would the killing end? When would this disgusting wretch be satisfied with the blood it had shed. And now there was a new development. It was one from my own home. I scan the body, and I don't recognize him, but his coat is laced with the chilly eternal winter smell that the basin held for each occupant. Quickly my eyes scan for some kind of clue, and they latch onto one. A single clipped black feather. I itch to pick it up, but instead I leave it be for others to find. I take one last look at the ravaged body before turning to take my leave. I had no other reason to be here now.
My next quest would be to find my partners. Midas and Desperado. An unlikely three. Yet here we where, working together anyways. One must do what one has to. Right now, it was finding this murderer, so that my daughter would be safe. I refuse to let her leave the Basin. Not with this creature of night on the loose. Hopefully she would stay. Hopefully she was being taken care of. My mind turns from these things, and I now only think of one thing. Finding my team to give them the newest clue. Quickly my body carries my from this place of horror and death, and my mind tries to think of someone who could have done this grizzly crime. Not only once, not just twice, but three times. And there was possibly more to come if the killer was not caught, and brought to justice.
The top of the hill was an excellent place to gain perspective, even if the memories here were not positive. As she ascended the thin, winding road, her cloven hooves kept her glued to the ground. She climbed to the top, staring out over the long field that was covered in snow at this altitude. Nothing grew here to block them from the wind, and she felt it howling around her, rustling in the long, white fur that covered her body thickly. Even with her winter coat, this place was freezing.
Ears pressed against her head, she moved forward toward the crowd. Immediately, her eyes found Gaucho, remembering what had happened the last time she was here with him. She could even see some of the score marks on the ground that she had made as she nearly fell over the sheer sides, and the mare ground her teeth together. Sure, she had helped him get his memories back, but that did not make what he did right. Ophelia wasn't perfect; she held grudges.
So, she approached Sialia warmly, coming up next to the dark mare and smiling softly. Her eyes caught the body of one she did not recognize, and he was old in age. She mourned that he died unnaturally when he seemed so close to a natural death. Ophelia sighed a cloud of white, shaking her head. A clip of black feather was on his body, and her eyes jumped to Gaucho, looking over his body. Certainly not? She would have to speak to Torleik about this, because she doubted her eyes. Gaucho did not even know Ailith of the Grey.
"Another tragedy. I will see you home, Sialia," she murmured, saying goodbye to her new friend before quickly trotting down the path again. She did not want to be caught up here alone again.
Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.
There was a cheerful grin on her face when she noticed the group but it quickly disappeared when she picked up on the mood of the crowd. Her heart sank down to the very bottom of her hooves where they laid buried in the soft snow. Another one? She had hoped that there would have been one and only one, that Helovia would not have to suffer another tragedy. Really, her mind hadn’t even reached the possibility that there could be another. One was too much to think about, never mind two. Or three?
Were they all connected?
Slowly, with sombre movements she approached so that she might see if there was a clue, something to suggest who might have done this. What might have. There was still the possibility that something was doing this, something outside of the population of her beloved home. It was far preferable for the kind doctor to think that way rather than contemplate that there was a murderer among them. Was there a connection between any of the victims? This was the second she had seen and the second stranger.
Alysanne did not get too close, did not push against those who had gathered to get a better look. She could see enough to understand what had happened and her green eyes had not missed the black feather that stood out of place amongst everything else. Black hairs and a black feather, not entirely inconceivable that they belonged to the same someone.
She’d pray for him later, when there was peace and silence, but now she needed to find Lena and the others and let them know what she had found.
Credits: Whit's tables were an inspiration | Coding by Schwartze | Image
please tag Alysanne in replies
made by the lovely tamme
non-life threatening physical force is allowed at all times, but preference is to be checked with beforehand for any injuries
Serenity Feel the wind pass through my body, I am one with your soul...
Here, above the white fields and icy landscape, was peace. She shoved her wings down, ascending to an apex before the icy crystals started to form on the long, protective coat which sparkled with starlight. Serenity tried to clear her head of doubts and the troubles that arose from immersing herself into the lives of others. Torleik had seemed so grumpy but kind hearted - then his companion had attacked her with such brutality. How was she supposed to just let that go as normal? The starkissed mare tilted the leading edge of her wing, catching the wind as she spiraled down toward the white field in the sky.
From her vantage, she saw a gathering, and curiosity gripped her motion. She descended easily, moving forward into the crowd. What she saw, she was not expecting - just like the first time. Serenity wanted to be sick as nausea overwhelmed her again. This time a unicorn was laying dead, head on the grass and buried in snow. The wounds on his body were jagged like before, but what lay on her body this time was a black piece of a feather. Black hair and now a black feather? Who was this killer?
She could not look for long, and she quickly averted her hawkish eyes. The pegasus could not bare the sight of death, not when it was so raw and unimaginably cruel. While she knew that the killer had to be found, the weight of the task hung around her neck, pulling her heart down into her hooves. Serenity glanced at the others, barely taking them in before hurling herself away. She spread her wings and leapt from the side of the cliff, letting the wind carry her troubles.
This time, they stayed. She couldn't run far enough away for this pain to disappear.
Helovia was still a new land to Phantom, but as far as she'd seen it was the same as any other she'd crossed through. From what she'd picked up from Torleik most of the unicorns held a sense of superiority, which she was accustomed to having grown up with a warlord father. What really made her think that Helovia was like the other lands was the murders. She had seen many dead bodies in her day, some of them felled by her own hoof, some of them the victim of sickness, or hungry predators. The only thing that she found odd was that individuals were teaming together to try and solve the mystery. Somehow she'd ended up on a team with three other stallions, only one of which she recognized. He bore the markings of family and held the temperament and attitude that made him one of Riekahn's brood.
The only reason she was walking up the incline to the meadow was because there was an inordinate amount of individuals heading that direction. It made Phantom wonder if another murder had been committed and body found. If that were the case then she had a duty to her team and her herd to investigate, find whatever clues might have been left behind and report back. Upon arriving there was already a large enough gathering, with Ophelia being the only one she recognized right away. The pale mare approached, eyes finding the body of the white unicorn. She wondered if it were really a murder that had been committed or if the old man's time had finally run out. The only thing that changed her mind was the black feather along with him. Had it not appeared clipped she would have thought a passing bird had lost it.
Phantom frowned and began to look at the gathered crowd, the pegasi in particular, and there were a few, but only one stood out in particular. She, however, still knew too little about the herds and their motives to make a proper assumption and decided, instead, to return to the men she was teamed with and report her findings. With her decision made she turned and made her way back down toward the valley below.
ooc://
The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen...and Phantom
Phantom
Deodat
Ulrik
Varath
Her king decreed his desires and she would satisfy them. She scoured for any sign or clue to indicate the source and master mind behind all the murders. Jorogumo had little interest in justice or the other ‘boys’ that followed Reginald. None of them were interest to her. They would be nothing more than tools in the conquest, even if one of them was his twin. Blood meant nothing in the end. All that mattered was one’s own strength. Jorogumo had no use for doting mothers or whining babes. Even the place that had been ‘home’ turned on her. She hadn’t forgiven Kisaki for her acidic words. She wouldn’t ever forget. She would make the golden lady devour her own words.
For the moment her thoughts were forgotten as she noticed a crowd. A slow smirk passed over her lips as no one from her little ‘team’ stood nearby. Another body lay still as stone, which made her do little more than snort. She paced about the edge of the scene, her eye searching for anything of use to her. Then her eye dropped upon nothing more than a feather. Both eyes narrowed. She lifted her head to see if any of her comrades stood nearby, and when none came into view, she turned heel and galloped off with a sense of urgency. Another piece had been set into their puzzle. They were another step closer to the strange powers that made even the gods tremble in fear. Jorogumo would show her value surpassed the others that gathered beneath her serpent’s desire.
[Posting for The Sons Of Anarchy
Reginald
Ode
Abraham
Jorogumo]
"Talking"
The hybrid had been cruising over the thermals observing the world from above when something odd had caught her attention down upon the ground. At first she had believed it was just a couple others socializing but then her eyes had caught sight of the odd misshapen form laying upon the ground nearby. Another murder? Surely someone would have found some sort of clues by now. "Well if they aren't complete morons that is." She mumbled as she eased her wingspan to angle her towards the ground. Drifting down slowly her eyes scanned over the other beasts that had gathered wondering if perhaps one of them might be the culprit responsible. Whoever the sick psychopath was she was bound and determined to have their head and see just how they would like it when they were the tortured victim instead of the one controlling the shots.
Landing with a soft thud a couple feet away from the corpse she eyed the scene carefully looking for any clues that might have been left behind. The bony figure was sure as hell dead for the stench was starting to spread despite the cold temperatures that would normally preserve the remains. Wrinkling her nostrils in disgust she dared to venture a couple steps closer as many seemed to have done before her. Lowering her head to all different levels she scoured the scene trying to memorize each detail that seemed off to her. First there had been the hairs then the sand and now... surely there had to be something. Freezing mid step as her eyes glimpsed something laying in the snow she narrowed her optics to try and get a better look without alerting anyone else to the fact that she had found something. Continuing her circling as nonchalant as possible a small smirk found her lips when the clue revealed itself to her. A feather..a black feather... well well now who could it belong to? Remembering what the other members of her team had said she went through her mental list of suspects. Well now this was rather interesting... perhaps it was time to take her leave and see what everyone else thought about this latest discovery. She would have this murderer and now it was just a matter of eliminating the last few names before she could have her fun.
Wiping any expression from her face she walked away from the scene towards the others that had gathered as she pasted a solemn look on herself. Taking her path she tried to get as close to the other groups as possible to listen in on their thoughts. You never knew if the culprit would return to the scene of the crime to revel in the attention their little deed had created so it was best to keep a sharp eye. Whatever this jerk wanted she could sense that he was nowhere near finished. Spreading her wings wide as she reached a clearing the mare launched herself into the air to go deliver the news to her team.
Prancing, prancing prancing. The vixen, in her childlike manner, was playfulling wandering up the path towards the Heavenly Fields. Jahzara had yet to explore these lands, and without a care in the world she trotted merrily along through the fog and up the mountain. Once she reached the top, she was unsure of what she would find. However, when the cloud cleared away to reveal a crowd of equines surrounding something, she stopped in her tracks. Though she was curious, the expressions of those around her told her that this was not something to take lightly. Slowly, the Arabian cross picked her way through the crowd, head lowered and eyes apologetic to all those she bumped into and squeezed past.
When Jahzara made her way through the crowd, and her healthy brown eye landed on the sight of a brutally murdered unicorn, she stopped. Her eyes grew wide, mouth dropping in shock and despair while she shook her head in denial. "No, no not again!" She whispered under her breath, tears beginning to form in her eyes. Her heart reached out for the old soul, and though she did not know him, she felt that no one deserved to die in such a way. Quietly, she stepped forward, coming close to the body and trying her best to ignore the gory sight and repulsive smell of death. A black feather caught her attention, and she sniffled at the thought of knowing that it must belong to the murderer. The tears fell down her cheeks as she lowered her crown to the earth, auds flicked back loosely with respect as she whispered a prayer to her ancestors. Only Kahlua knew about her beliefs in the spirit guides, but that did not stop her. "May the spirit guides greet you and take you home, may you be honored with your new life as a spirit and find peace. Please, new spirit...Please, help guide us to find the one who took your life and others..."
After an added moment of silence, Jahzara backed away from the body, averting her eyes so as not to see it any more. 'You must go find the others, you must tell them of what you've seen...' One of her hallucinations whispered to her, beckoning her to find her team and inform them. With a nod, Jahzara turned on her heel and excused herself through the ground again before rushing down the mountain path to let Resplendence, Kahlua and Nayati know of the latest murder and clue.
"Talking" 'Thoughts 'Hallucination speaking'
Team - World's Edge Sweethearts
Jahzara
Resplendence
Nayati
Kahlua
The field had been pretty once, and filled with lots of memories of things that were sweet and salty and bitter rolled all at the same time. I had found….many things here, before. My Ma, for example. Bro. I think that’s about it, actually, unless I’m forgetting something. Whatever, it just seemed that this place was a place for me to find some interesting shit, regardless if it were something good to me, or not at all. In this case, there was nothing good about what I found.
The World’s Edge had been trippy as all hell and I was in no mood to repeat the process again. But this whole kettle of fish wasn’t subjected to the commands of my mood. I wasn’t gonna sit there looking down at this unfortunate, wrinkly bastard like my feelings had anything to do with it.
What was I expecting to see here?
I don’t know, maybe something that didn’t have to do with darkness and smoke. Something that didn’t keep nudging my mind in familiar, painful ways. I wish I hadn’t’ve seen that black feather. I knew too many black feathers; too many of my kin had black feathers. I guess it was lucky of me to only be wearing one of her gold ones.
Shit.
It was too cold and the place was filled with too many horses to be pretty anymore. I couldn’t help feeling that any one of them, any of them at all, could’ve been this poor schmuck right here—or could be next. I couldn’t deny that Ma was there, somewhere in the crowd. Her scent pulled at me persistently, as though going to her would fix this mess; as though clinging to my Ma’s side would settle any and all troubles in my breast and in the world.
Pfft, yeah, right. I had seen her not too long ago, too. While I was standing by my Pa’s side. While she had walked away.
I swallowed it back, because I was about to feel sick anyway.
I closed my eyes.
(@[Random Event]-- using temporary time magic)
talk
Like stars burning holes right through the dark
Flicking fire like saltwater into my eyes</style>
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