"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.
12-25-2014, 01:00 AM (This post was last modified: 12-25-2014, 01:05 AM by Random Event.)
Jingle, jingle, jingle. What makes that sound? Nothing but the Earth Turtle himself as he roams about the island. A collection of bells hang from his shell, shaking and jangling with each slow step he takes. Still, despite his slow speed, he moves with purpose towards a destination. A solitary tree in the sandy portion of the island is where he finally stops. Rather like magic, the crimson jingle bells rise from his shell and settle at random in the tree, now jingling when the wind blows just right. A few points of light seem to shine from the tree as well. It is a meager display, but a pretty one. Settling himself under the large conifer, the turtle waits then to see who will come. He is in a good mood. He hopes that many will arrive.
Merry Christmas Helovia :3
The Giving Tree is a special little holiday cheer.
Admin roll dice for those who come mingle by the tree to decide on prizes.
*You may only enter active characters (3-5 posts over the last 4 weeks)
*You may write a post for each active character you have
*This ends in 24 hours at 12:00am (midnight) CST
I visit the island again, hoping that Aurelia may already be there, or follow me there. With my wings outstretched, I fly without care, drifting lazily within the crisp Birdsong air that drifts beneath my wings, rolling over my body as I dip over the island that floats and drifts, hooves reaching out as I try to touch the grassy field before me, trees sprouting from the earth strides away from my landing space. Wings tilt and stretch, catching me as I hit the ground with a solid thump and a shudder, lightning sprouting from my crimson hooves. Catching myself in a slow canter, I hear the faint jingling of bells being carried within the wind, the pounding of my hooves drowning out the sound of bells. Perking my ears and slowing myself to a walk, I follow the blowing wind and jingling with curiosity dancing testily upon my spine.
Weaving through the blossoming trees, petals catching in my hair and on my wings, stuck within the folds of my feathers and skin. I smile, feeling brightened by the thought of my little family, that it's within an arms reach, I swear I could feel that future I so much desire brushing against those imaginary fingertips, taunting me as it sways before my muzzle. Breathing in deeply, I lay my eyes upon an old, swaying turtle that moves casually towards a tree. Watching with intent, I take notice of the bells on his deep green shell, watching as they rise from his back, placing themselves in random patterns upon the tree he stood before, lights twinkling within the branches as the bells jingled in the wind. Looking back at the turtle, I watched as he settled beneath the tree, taking that as the time to step before him and greet him.
Taking a hesitant few steps forward, I offer the turtle a curt nod and smile, petals falling from my hair as I do so. I do not bother removing them, instead hoping I don't look awkward with pink blossom remnants tangled my ivory hair or spotting my back. I admire the turtle's tree, smiling and marveling the magnificent decorations upon it. Looking behind me I wish for Aurelia's presence so she too could see the tree and admire it's beauty with me.
"These soldiers are not here to kill you; They're here to protect you." ooc: yayy ! :D word count: 387
Falling into the depths of routine, the hours in which she pulled herself away from the daily aspects of boredom were freedom, breathing life into her tired lifestyle. Returning the island was becoming less of an occurance as she lacked reason to come. It had almost succeeded in running her away.
When she did give away to temptation, riding the clouds in silence as the wind ruffled her hair and had the locks that remained caught up in dreadlocks, there was no amusement or laughter. She was searching for relief.
Surely, it did come, overpowering her as a wave once gravestone hooves touched the grasses. Weight had made it's return and her stomach was heavy almost to the point of suspected pregnancy from her grass belly after her indulgening. Silence doesn't greet her at the arrival point. Birds sing with merriment through the Birdsong sunlight, but something else taints the air. Her ears dance atop her skull in confusion, alert and nervous as of the sound. Could it even bring good to hear something as such?
She falls prey, drawing her frail courage tightly about herself as she moves in a canter, loping across the dreamscape.
What she does find puzzles her. It covers her features and dips them in watered-downed amusement that weakly flutters in her pale eyes. The Earth Turtle, whom she remembers from the race which had her leaping across clouds and bounding through cherry blossoms(it was an odd memory that she found no sense later on), carries shiny objects, tethered to his shell. She blinks in confusion while snorting her distrust of the noise making objects.
The tree, which she notices as she turns her eyes up and blinks in endless more bewilderment(at this point, it's no surprise that she is not drowning in the oddity of this situation), is nothing she has seen before. Approaching slowly, she steps beside a dark Pegasus who turns to meet her. A halt is immediately issued though the female smells enough of alliance through all of the smells of cherry blossoms.
"Give me love like never before"
12-25-2014, 02:22 AM (This post was last modified: 12-25-2014, 02:32 AM by Spice.)
S P I C E
I feel as though I can soar better now. Better than I could when I came here, better than I could when I crash landed in the meadow of purple flowers. I remember that stormy day, crashing to the ground in a heap of paint mare, I had bent my back ankle, twisting and pulling it in directions I could not even fathom...
I shook the memory as I flew because I had felt myself falter. I was not paying attention, and even that could cost my life while in the sky. I had taught myself these things. Rules, for myself, I guess I could call them. Or maybe lessons for next time.
Yeah. I like that.
Lessons for next time.
I am getting distracted again. Ugh. That's the thing about the sky. You always have to be paying attention. Another rule! I do pay attention now as I spot a covering of clouds in the distance, and wonder what it would feel like if I were to fly right through them...
There is land attached to them. Well, maybe not attached but...I don't know. They just seem to stick to that little corner of land. Correction: floating land. I don't see how this is possible, but I just go with it. Why not? I might just be asleep. This could all be a dream. And if it was a dream, I make a mental note to keep making rules in my head. Once again, why not?
I head for the land, picking my injured back foot higher than normal, and wonder what it would feel like to land. I decided to try and land gracefully, nothing dangerous or daring. Not right now, at least. As the floating land speeds towards me, a feeling of dread washes over me. It all seems really hard all of a sudden, the wave of dread envelops my fears in an embrace of foreboding and....I lock up.
My legs twitch, stiffening. My whole body straightening. It's the fear that causes it. I remember. Always bend my legs when I land...
Always bend my legs when I land!
Graceful as my landing was, I shook my head in disapproval. I had to stop doing that. What if I did not remember? What if I let myself plummet to a jabbing and pulsing death of floating island blood and terror. I toss my head back, attempting to flick my growing mane back, but it keeps falling into my face and I falter as I don't want to fall because I can't really see...
A small light appears into view, and I smile. I can see it through my forelock, and when I continue walking more of them come into view as I walk on. They seemed to be floating in space. I smile, and try again, feeling hopeful as I flip my forelock back once again with the twitch of my crown...
It was a tree. It stood tall and proud, little lights here and there seemingly perched on branches, ready to fly when signaled. I rush forward, but my former slow stride had become something of a hopping fast-walk. My back ankle was not feeling it today. I pull in a deep breath before continuing on, taking my time. And as I near, I see a little shelled creature under the tree. I smile. Hope gathers in the pit of my stomach, twisting and pulling at my gut and in some way, it made me feel good. It sprouted from the base of my mane, my withers, a whirl wind of excitement and joy. This thing was adorable.
And, this tree was beautiful.
Did I mention, it was a tree!? I honestly did not think that trees could be beautiful. But, it turns out that they could.
I lean in, examine the turtle with innocent interest. No mock in my emerald pools as I scan the little thing. I wonder how it got up here in the sky, mind you. But it all didn't seem as important as figuring out if it could talk.
"Hello there!" I exclaim in an exaggerated, exited tone. I lean away from it so that I am not spitting in it's face or yelling. 'Cause that would just be plain rude. I look it over once again, admiring it's shell silently while I await (anxiously) to see if it would reply.
12-25-2014, 02:28 AM (This post was last modified: 12-25-2014, 02:28 AM by Ampere.)
She had no intentions of returning to the island, given all that had occurred there, or supposedly had occurred. However while on a flight to clear her head and stretch her limbs, she heard the unmistakable sound of jingling. Her slow speed is the only thing that made the tones of the season audible above the wind, that or perhaps magic. It was so strange it immediately caught Ampere's attention, gaze cutting over the sky like a peal of lightning towards the island. She regarded it with a heavy stare, one worn with caution and anxiety.
Yet when the sounds continued to come, nearly a dare with their persistence, coupled with the odd streams of light and ...a familiar form flying towards it? "Now I ahve to go," Ampere muttered to herself, changing course with a few flaps of her outstretched wings.
The island was easy to get to. The winds were inviting, attracting even, pulling her in on their warm gusts like a trap. Her mouth ran dry with the unease of it all, but she pressed on, curiosity outweighing reason, as most emotions did for her. If not that, she also had a notion of duty and protection to uphold, because she was fairly certain that figure was of the Throat.
After a little while the lights grew brighter, the bells louder, and the source clearer. A tree, beautiful in its own right, but slightly terrifying given the circumstances (at least to Ampere), stood like a beacon. More than that though, it was a signal which drew them in, a flame for the moths of Helovia. Ampere wings had never felt like such a betrayal.
Her body shuddered as she landed, steps whispering her to Destry's side. "Destry," she urged, blue eyes rolling in white as she eyed the turtle guarding his snare. "He seems familiar," a sidelong thought suggested as Ampere tried to scuttle to Destry, practically hiding by her while feigning to be her savior - she was the only safe thing in this place. In that moment Ampere also spied Sikeax and she was torn between figuring out who to huddle with, wanting nothing more than to skirt them all out of this place. "What are you doing here?" She asked of them both, head turning to eye each. She didn't want to say we because she wanted to feel in control, but truth be told Ampere had looked for and found an excuse to come here. Even Spice was here, and though Ampere was less familiar with her, she knew her to be of the Throat.
Was this an attack on their homeland? Some clever trick to invade them while the island hypnotized them? Was the turtle the mastermind of it all? Was he working with Ophelia?
All the while she stared at the turtle every chance she got, trying to place the reptile which should have been as unnoticeable as all the other scaled things running around. You have a way of holding onto your hurt though, and this turtle had certainly wounded her in the past.
12-25-2014, 02:28 AM (This post was last modified: 12-25-2014, 02:28 AM by Adelric.)
Adelric,
The half-child wanders the island after talking to his mother. It still hurts him to his very soul that he has had to leave her, that he has had to tell her his truth, that he has to return to the Basin and deny that he belongs to her. She is the love of his life, the woman that gave birth to him, that raised him, that taught him everything he needed to know to survive in this world. She has been his guiding star in the darkness and his friend… his everything. And yet, for all the love he has for her, he cannot be with her. He has to protect Zunden, and Zunden needs to be in the icy spires of the Basin to be happy. Also, his only other friend in the whole world lives there. Can he leave behind both Erebos and Zunden for his mother? With a heavy sigh, he knows that the answer is no. He must stay where he has chosen, live in the frozen wasteland, and deal with the consequences of his choices.
At least a shining tree in the distance can give him some peace… he hopes. Walking towards the pretty thing, he notices some red orbs hanging in the limbs that jingle when the wind blows. Having grown up in Helovia he is used to such things, and knows they often lead to interesting rewards for horses that choose to investigate. Turning to Tobias, just to check that the cervid agrees, Adelric approaches the conifer and the turtle, to see what may come of it.
12-25-2014, 02:31 AM (This post was last modified: 12-25-2014, 02:32 AM by Ophelia.)
Ophelia
text goes here
Blood, burns and heartache were what she carried now, body beaten. The only saving grace for the sickness and pain was the numbness that settled over her, shielding her from misery. Ophelia staggered into the grass, not caring where her hooves landed nor noticing what was before her until she was upon it. Voices, like knives in a wretched skull hit her with full force, and she gazed at a turtle deep under a beautiful tree. The words of the tree spoke in her mind, and she knew that she was unworthy.
Wouldn't hurt to hear the words though, right?
Gaze captured by the light, she limped to the scene, the right side of her body still bruised. In all ways, she was broken, her normally, flawless hide marred by blood and sand, sweat and tears. Ophelia approached, not looking at the other faces as they disappeared, blending into the soft background of the evening. No smile could grace her lips, not now. Instead, she bowed her head and closed her eyes, inhaling the piney scent and trying not to cry.
She couldn't even say good evening, because it wasn't good at all.
"Pretty tree," she whispered hoarsely, gaze captivated by the sparkling, gentle lights. Oh, how she longed to come and fade so beautifully, ethereal. Never had she felt more mortal, gritty and tainted. Even Tinek held his head in solace, the silver dragon coming to land upon her back and wait. He was carefully not to upset her damaged hairs, his weight becoming a comfort and a reminder that she was never truly alone.
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.
12-25-2014, 02:36 AM (This post was last modified: 12-25-2014, 02:38 AM by Kahlua.)
The queen returned to the island, looking for an escape from… well… anything she could escape from. Prisons and not prisons, standing up for herself, containers and pure water, responsibilities, nightmares, alliances, captains and glaziers, lovers… She frowned. With so much whirling about in her head, she really didn’t know how to sort everything into clear and organized piles. She needed a brain organizer- a life coach, perhaps. But she also needed somebody that could then take all that organized information and tell her what to do with it because, honestly, it’s not like she would really know what to do. What she really needed was Kaj, but… well… She had made rather a mess of that whole situation, hadn’t she? And her heart still ached for the man that she knew she loved, that she knew would always keep her safe when her heart was breaking, but she could not give him what she needed. She had to continue to be selfless, for his sake and hers.
Stepping from the cloud onto the island, Kahlua noticed a gathering of creatures over by one particular tree. As Khan took flight from her back to investigate closer, Kahlua made her way there, smiling at the eclectic accumulation of creatures that had already arrived. Beneath the tree, the Sunshower smiled to see an unassuming turtle beneath the boughs. The image was brilliant- the lighted tree, the jingling bells, the little filly talking to the reptile… well, she shied away from the filly a little bit. She oozed of neediness. Nothing of her own fault, of course; it was all foals. So, a safe distance away from Spice and Adelric (and also the very erratic and unpredictable Ampere), Kahlua bobbed her head to the turtle. "It is, isn't it," she said as she stepped up beside Ophelia, Khan landing back upon her back. She did not notice the way that Ophelia was broken and battered, but the dragon did and he cooed softly to Tinek, as if to ask what had happened.
Aithniel was overwhelmed with the weight of the task handed to her by her father - and the rest of the gods, really. She was the youngest and yet expected to succeed with Erebos and Adelric at her side, two other children barely older than herself. Hototo was huge and old - certainly he and the dark child had advantages? The little girl tumbled through the grass as she thought, trying to understand why she would be given such a task - and what the consequences were if she failed.
The fire child sighed, listening to the birdsong melodies in the air and trying to forget about all those... bloated... gross bodies. What she had learned in this time was that the world was horrible and filled with horrible individuals. That did not mean that there was no beauty at all. And damn (bad word!) she missed Rikyn. Her bother gave her direction and purpose. Without him, she was terribly dislodged.
Honestly, what was left for her in the Aurora Basin? Rikyn was her brother. Erebos was nice and all, but... well... he seemed to have more important things to do than play with s little, winged child. So, she grunted and marched onward, seeing a cute turtle in the distance and flapping her wings a few times as she got closer. Her little body peered between the legs of larger adults, seeing a beautiful tree with twinkling lights.
"Oh, hey this is cool!" She tried to get Adelric's attention, but she doubted he would notice. "What is this big tree for?" A big mouth never really ever got smaller - just... better timed.
He is wandering from his kingdom in the north. He can't saw what draws him, because although there are others of his herd which are gathering in the same place he will be going, he doesn't know this, doesn't even really know them. All he knows is the feeling to walk, not that it is a new one. He was still foggy in some of his memories and had recognized one of the better ways to restore them was returning to places where they were made. If only he had known he had never been on this island then he probably would have avoided it, although he was curious, like any child (or adult for that matter), and so was inspired to approach at the sound of bells and the sparkle of lights.
Anyway it's not every day you see a massive hunk of earth floating above you.
His first thought was that it was a domain of the winged kind. However that didn't deter him, because he had never experienced an unfortunate interaction with one, not even much of any interaction period, and he hadn't dwelled in the Basin long enough to even understand what racism was. No, the only thing keeping Öde grounded was a general confusion about how to get up there.
He found the answer with some wandering, and some fear. The cloud that lifted him into the air was sudden, and terrifying, quite simply. The entire way up Öde squeezed his eyes shut, and even after it stopped remained frozen in place for a time. Slowly one eye peeked open, then the other eeeked apart after a minute of ascertaining his new surroundings. He glanced over the side of his magic ride, blinking at the height. On shaky limbs he ventured onto the island, and in a sort of daze found himself immersed in the gathering at the tree. No doubt he'd wake up at his icy home thinking it all a dream - it seemed to strange to be reality.
bg- resurgere.deviantart.com
Hrm, I think Öde counts? He's done 4 posts in the past 4 weeks ;-;
Tag me only if starting a new thread. Magic or force permitted any time, including death - no decapitating. Be aware active magic doesn't work in his vicinity due to his magic!
What exactly happened with you and Snowflake? You’re not really sure. It was all kinda… weird and hazy and crazy and… you have the vaguest feeling that this is going to be something that you surely regret in a few months, but you don’t really know why. But it was weird, because there was sunshine and butterflies and all kinds of crazy shit everywhere. Everything just felt right. But now it feels like maybe it wasn’t so right and you shouldn’t have taken her there under the trees the way you did. Kind of like that tree up in the…
Wait. How did you get on this island again? Fuck. You hate this stupid island. You need some of your drugs. You go to dig into your bag, but you haven’t restocked since winter and it’s still obnoxiously empty, so instead you go ahead and use your drug magic. Except… that was a bad idea too, because no all the sunshine and happiness is gone and that terrible, excruciating pain is back. You grit your teeth against the pain as it feels like your skin is slowly being pulled from your body, your internal organs are burning, your teeth are being hammered from your very jaw.
Groaning loudly, you quickly curse yourself for doing that again. Didn’t you learn the first time? You don’t know what’s happened to your magic, it never used to do this, but you’re really not pleased about it. Stumbling blindly against the pain, you accidentally show up in this stupid group of horses and a tree and a turtle and… Ugh! They aren’t going to help. And FUCKING AMPERE. Damnit! Hissing, you consider attacking her, but in your current state you don’t really think it’s a great idea. God you hate her. So, instead, you just go to stumble away, hoping she won’t notice the way you’re stomping and groaning all over the place. Yeah right.
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Oxy at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing him.
Please do not tag Oxy unless it is in an opening post
12-25-2014, 03:12 AM (This post was last modified: 12-25-2014, 03:14 AM by Random Event.)
The earth turtle is pleased to see so many arrive so quickly and begins gifting presents and orbs to those around him.
Destry: Foal stats, magic for one
Sikeax: Large item
Spice: A small necklace with a vial of dyed purple blood
Ampere: Foal stats, magic for one
Adelric: Hybrid foal stats
Ophelia: Ornate, minimalist silver armor. This is not magical and a quest must be completed to make it a magical item.
Kahlua: Twin stats, no magic
Aithniel: [Magic: Fire (U) | Ability to control flames]
Ode: Three amulets (your choice as to type!)
Oxy: Hybrid foal stats
Admin will update records, no need to post to the records thread.
They come across the gathering almost by mistake, stalking and leaping through the tall grass, the girl and her brother taking turns at stealth. Of course the kitsune is better: small, dark, nimble, he is built to be unseen, while the tall copper girl stands out like a beacon in a desert tundra. Behind a tree and under a bush the small boy scurries, his lanky sister in hot pursuit, attention far from the makeshift Christmas which is coming together at the behest of a turtle.
Far, that is, until voices reach her, and the hot stench of many magics all drawn together to make one intoxicating color infiltrates her senses and draws her up short. She is surprised to see so many familiar hides: Throatlings, yea, but others too, encountered in her wild wanderings around the Helovian landscape. Some are less appealing (Ampere, ugh) than others (Sikeax), but the one who draws her closest is Aithniel, the wraith of a child staring raptly ahead, and Tandavi follows her gaze to find a strangely bejewled tree, guarded by a turtle.
She has seen this before (the tree, not the turtle), a similar gathering some seasons ago. Curious, the girl and her brother step closer, carefully avoiding the others of the Throat who seem to have formed a clump around Ampere, inching closer to Aithniel but not really approaching any. She wonders if Sacre will come, or Caneo, or Hototo; to share this with someone would be welcome, she thinks.
She wonders, if she wishes hard enough, if Amaris will appear from the beautiful tree, a warm smile on her scaled face, ready to fill the void left in the copper child's chest. At least her brother is here to see it; and the girl reaches down to sniff his face, affectionately rubbing her inky lips across his ears. The boy grimaces and shies away, but they both know it is all an act. If they have nobody else, at least they have each other.
I'd seen a similar tree before, yar a long time ago. The crowning star that day had been a mythical phoenix, simmering beautiful in the night. Guiding us. He gifted Helovia with trinkets and small bobbles of various shapes and sizes. A mass gathered beneath the gapping limbs, all eyes eagerly looking for what might be gained. Fina and Neve glide down to me as I come to rest near the old turtle. My stare travels up yon tree, noting how another year has slipped past. I look to the wide arch, reflecting. This time there is something to give -- rather then just take.
From the sheath of feathers behind my nape I pull free a smooth river stone; tis creamy pale and delicately designed with a cone shaped head. This insignificant pebble seems plain, boring at first glance; a poor gift to something so magnificent. But a closer look would reveal that one side was cracked, a glimpse into the glossy surface. Years of abuse by water revealed that tiny ebony colored crystals grew within the heart. They were beautiful.
Gently taking it between my lips, I pushed for the base to set the pebble. There would be a large crowd, power like this was temptingly sweet to our soul and all the more undeniable. Seasons ago the timber had acted as a beckon of hope and light amid darkness that was pressing upon all sides. Could this mighty one offer the same comfort to those of us who felt devoured?
The huntress heard a noise in the distance. Both ears flicked forward and her eyes drifted toward the sound. Slowly she dares to approach with a curious light blazing in her eyes. Despite all her paranoia she dared to follow it. Whatever she was expecting it wasn't the sight before her.
Others were gathered around, but, most were foreign. She crept toward the familiar white mare, she couldn't quite remember her name. All Arya knew was that she had been there when her mother's captor arrived. Her gaze focused in on the tree and she gave out a loud gasp. The child she had once been surfaced as she took in the sight. Then her eyes turtle.
"This is amazing!" She said with a massive grin passing over her face. It felt good to be able to smile once more. It felt good to find the world beautiful and awe-inspiring again. Silently she walked around the tree eyes taking in every detail. Why weren't there more things like this? She couldn't begin to express it's beauty in words.
All the glee fell heavy as she realized she couldn't see this beauty beside her mother. Was her mother even home yet? There had been little sign of her father so she had little hope of seeing her mother any time soon.
Be happy Arya, She told herself. Both would want you to be happy, Both would want to see you smile. Yes, she would smile and she would laugh. For a bit she could forget her pain.
• tag in opening posts only
• violence/magic is permitted. maiming/death is not without prior permission
The enduring pull of curiosity compelled him – first, the jingling of bells, wild, free, sublime, mellifluous sounds he’d never heard before – and second, the rising of a tree, emblazoned and ornate. For a few instances, he simply stared, mesmerized by the carillon pinging and pealing, by the hues and delicacy of the conifer, by the turtle beneath its waiting boughs (did he know that hungry turkey?), eyes widened and mouth slacked. But more and more gathered, slipping by him in a singular, siren mass, and he wondered if it was something conniving, something evil, enticing them closer and closer, and he should stayed away, far beyond, watching as rubble turned to ruin. But then, he noted his friends, a smattering of gold and wings (Aithniel!) and a deer tied and tethered to a spotted colt (Adelric!), and as if a lure of death held no meaning, he careened across the valleys and the meadows and the springtime essences for an opportunity with his companions, to explore, to divulge, to voice inquiries and questions. Upon his advance, the little blue prince beheld the singular crescendo and nodded towards it, as if the harmonies, the arias, the strains of its adornments had earned his respect, then settled somewhere amidst the crowd, beside Aithniel, near Adelric (and he wanted Rikyn to join, where was he?), developing a stage whisper, burning and brewing it within his vocals before extending it towards his beloved kin. “What…is it?” What did it do? Why did it stay there, beautiful and significant, but so ultimately unknown and peculiar?
The Reaper briefly remembered the strange appearance of the same turtle seasons before, gathered beneath a massive tree, carols crooning, masses growing, and standing along the sidelines, longing to investigate the peculiar, bizarre appearance (was it dangerous? Would it attack his herd? Was there something to fear, or destroy?), striving to remain on the outskirts. He’d thought he’d be ignored, desolate and isolated to examine and scrutinize the anomaly, but even then, the timber had stretched its massive arms and delivered him a gift (what it was, he couldn’t recall; but he’d been touched, just a little, just a smidgen, that he hadn’t been forgotten in the swarm, in the crowd). His son, however, was discovering it for the first time, and he followed him at a slow, methodical pace, distant and protective, a threatening plume surrounding and pervading, should anything seek out Erebos’ form and seek to damage the limber child. While his scion bounded, leaped, and became riveted amongst his companions, Deimos’ eyes roamed over the scene again and again, surveying the throng, the familiar (no surprise to see the Forsaken, or the bright, blue, screaming bird thing), and the unfamiliar, but once more, never dragging himself into their midst. For his brethren, his singular touch would mean death, and he held no intentions of destruction and ruin amidst the tinkling bells and the ornamental fray (there was too much happiness, too much glee, and it made him uncomfortable). Instead, he procured the pattern from the year past, and roamed on the fringes, away, but intrigued all the more.
DEIMOS
delivered from the blast last from a line of lasts
and now the kingdom comes crashing down undone
background pattern by webtreatsetc.deviantart.com image credits
From time to time, a tree would appear. At least, d’Artagnan had noticed this. It happened last year after all, when he had found a magical tree and from then on he had been strapped with a leather bag ever since. It was still there now, wrapped around his shoulders in a vice like grip, the type of leather unknown as the shade had failed to destroy it. No matter what got thrown at it the thing still seemed to remain, forever soldered to his side and by now the Doctor had grown accustomed to its familiar rub. So much so that he would be quite sad to part with it and its pouches filled with healing herbs, that could come in quite useful should one know how to use them properly.
This time a strange magical tree had appeared on the floating island, a small display of lights adorned it and under, like an old festering Christmas present, was the Earth God. Although it seemed contradicting of character, d’Artagnan actually quite liked the wise old Earth, but it was out of selfish reason. He was the God after all who had granted him the all-knowing knowledge of poison that had served him so well throughout his life. He actually owed the immortal being quite a lot.
Many had already gathered around the glittering attraction, amongst them were hornless that made his lips curl, the painted stallion who had fired sand at him that time was also there. He recognized a few of the Basin youth and Leaders as he walked to join the crowd at the edge, his mismatched gaze moving to glance at the Earth who lingered under and his head dipped with a firm nod. Aramis falling to a slump at his side, tail swishing and eyes brooding as they waited to see what would happen this time around.
It's nothing that complicated, I just want to kill you
12-25-2014, 06:24 AM (This post was last modified: 12-25-2014, 06:26 AM by Mauja.)
i am the vanguard of your destruction
He's tired, battered, and confused.
He'd set fire to his dreams, he'd set fire to the air itself—he'd very nearly set fire to Ophelia. It hung like a weight between his ribs, a heavy ache in his mind, forcing his thoughts down and inwards as he trailed after the broken angel. Fire had never been his. He had always been winter, the snow and the cold, the slow, steady movement and grudges, longevity. Fire had belonged to his eldest sister, Eldrúna, just like the winds belonged to Sarazheha.
The only brother of blood he had left. The wars had taken the rest.
The wars had taken nearly everything from him.
He swallowed, moved along in her wake with a lopsided kind of amble. Two ugly slashes, crusted over and stiff, marred the marbled perfection of his left shoulder, and each step was short, so as to not tear the healing edges open and start the process all again. The skin on his chest and neck was seared, mottled with minor burns.
But it didn't matter. It didn't matter as long as he still had her in his sights, the ghost he fled after on aching legs. It didn't matter where they went, either. He would follow her to the ends of the earth if he had to, off its Edge and into the oceans if she bade him.
Irma and Diego left the space above him, sped forth on broad, silent wings, their minds whispering that they remembered, they had seen this before, it had given them the holly branch last time they saw it, this odd tree of lights and glitter and things. It drew them in. It drew everyone in.
He still only had eyes for her. Silently he limped up on her other side, offering Kahlua a long look of tired greeting before settling. Apologizing with his silence. Close enough to be near, not near enough to be close.
He didn't want to hurt her anymore.
Irma angled away, set her sights on a red bay and a hellhound—swept in low to settle on his broad cherry ass.
Lena was a beguiled Songbird, an allured nightingale, a spellbound swallow, listening to the calls, the whirls, the aria incantations of the merry bells, of the serene hymns, of the tranquil canticles, blooming in vibrant, warm crescendos – she listened to the symphony of carols striking a wholesome, wondrous symphony, and joined underneath her breath. A mellifluous opus, a whispering accompaniment, a careful, quiet, serenade breathed and exalted through her lips, parted in sacrament, in harmony, hoping to entice peace, repose, amidst the ever-gathering throng. It was a appreciative change from the denizens of murder, from the vicious, virile swirls of loathing, of contempt, the never-ending mystery stealing lives and pinnacles, as if everyone took a moment to remember gifts, benefits, presents of life. They endured so much grief, so many deaths, friends and foes frozen in demise, resolute and determined, stalwart and steadfast, forever forgetting the things they fought for, the tranquil elements and essences that used to exist. Slowly, softly, a petal on the wind, a nymph exhumed from her springs and groves, and thrived on the growing din; smiled towards Kahlua (Mauja? - and if she crept close enough, could her song heal the spectacle of wounds mired across his frame?), nodded towards her brethren, forgot all the abysmal horrors and terrors stretching and unfurling, uncoiling and unwinding, behind the backdrop of goodwill. Then, she continued to sing, honeyed, dulcet, euphonious, delivering her convictions, her invocations, her enchantments on the wind and on the sea, on the leaves and the flames, a crisp, light delicacy, a beautiful note, to match the beatific riches and the carillon whims, hoping, perhaps, others would join in and recall the materials of equanimity.
Lena</style> where there is love, there is life.</style>
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62.5/62.5 HP
![[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5388c9b80fe59)
