"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.
02-15-2015, 03:36 PM (This post was last modified: 02-16-2015, 02:40 PM by Deimos.)
He could scarcely remember the last time he’d gathered his herd all together: massive and intense, crowded amongst the valley, a blend of strong, mighty combatants, tethered and tied together through loyalty and campaigns. The timing seemed fitting, after the storms had seemingly passed, after murderers had been found, after ships had cleansed the earth; now they had moments of settled repose, where the collected filaments could be passed from one to the other. Information, knowledge, and wisdom were powerful weapons, and he wouldn’t have his constituents going without, not when there were so many pieces in place, so many orders reshaped and sharpened. The monster, instead of clinging to the shadows, instead of embracing the heathen walls or the infidel warrens of the caves, aimed and plagued onward, down into the middle of their sanctuary, where the lake remained unfrozen and glistening, where the summits basked in the glory of their prestige, where the sentinels guarded their borders carefully. While his intimidation brewed, one sinister crescendo, he still remained an alluring essence; the eldritch titan beguiling his allies, his companions, his compatriots, into a convention, swarming altogether in a steeled, keen, honed crowd of blades and swords. The Reaper, the Lord, the King, drummed a solo command, bid their frames wander from the hillsides, from the tundra, from the boughs, from the grottos, so they could become united, whole, branded and regarded as a triumphant, dominant regime. While still reticent, his features far too molded into impassive, nonchalant remains, he was still proud, he was still content, satisfied, as they flowed into the valley, a mass of promise, of mastery, of devastation and ruin. One day they’d be allotted and bestowed their due, earned from the dust and havoc, but for now, they endured and prevailed in potency, in pernicious schemes, in devastating, furtive secrets. Deimos’ eyes narrowed, gaze catching over some unfamiliar beasts, some wholly faithful, constant cretins, searching for his fellow leader. She’d need to provide other outlooks and venues, where he hadn’t roamed, where he hadn’t searched.
Thereafter, his voice echoed over the chasm, deep, piercing, and puncturing. “It has been long since we have gathered together, my Basin brethren. But there is much to impart and discuss.” He paused, stare flickering over the throng, pondering on where to begin, how to start. The beast was not a master orator, didn’t want to linger forever on bits and pieces, and hastened a quick breath before beginning again. “The Basin remains at peace with the Edge, and we have added the Throat to our armistice. We are not to stealth members of either herd. In exchange for some of our materials, the Throat has granted us metal to finish the sentinels.” They gleaned in the distance, great titans of the north, machine-driven barbarity, closer and closer to becoming true savagery. Another notion passed through his mind, caused him to clench his jaw, for it was a frustrating admittance, to know they had an enemy in their grasp, lost her in the veils, and were ultimately being targeted all over again. “Confutatis, leader of the Regime, has returned to her old tricks. Be aware at all times. She will not hesitate to steal anyone from the north.” But then, the great monster felt he needed to extend some sort of praise for their efforts, he’d marched in the midst of their battles, he’d participated in their skirmishes, he’d watched and witnessed the practice of his soldiers, his phantoms, his members. They deserved to be commended for their endeavors and achievements. “You have all done well, and your practice has paid off. Continue in your spars and gain strength – we never know which threats lay ahead.”
[Mandatory herd meeting for the members of the Aurora Basin! This counts as our activity check for Tallsun. We have a lot of IC information being passed around that everyone needs to be aware of, and some rank things. ;D
You have five days after Ophelia's post to get yours in (so we're looking at them done by February 21st. Those absent are excluded.]
Death, you bring death, and destruction to all that you touch.
I build bridges with these arms
I will not build a fortress
The familiar rush of snow greeted her like an old friend, and she inhaled deeply, the blooming light from the Sun hanging from her horn and piercing the fog. Dawn bloomed overhead in a flame of colors, and she trotted up the narrow path, knowing it intimately. Her mind, unable to forget even the smallest of details, kept a running, dynamic map of Helovia, and she was a veritable tome of history. Though only a babe when she had arrived, the wars that had waged did not go unnoticed, and time had granted her a unique perspective. Others were far more prejudiced than these unicorns who kept to themselves.
Never did they demand to impose their will on others. They remained in their fortress, their refuge from the Edge, and were spit upon by those with no respect for the past or truth. Her father had been one of those, and she remembered him as a monument, cold and impartial - even to his own daughter.
Some time had past since their last meeting, and she waltzed to Deimos' side, listening to him release the necessary amount of information to their herd. The impassive expression twisted into a scowl at the mention of Confutatis, and she snorted in irritation. "Confutatis has attempted to steal both myself and Thranduil unsuccessfully," she added, lips curling back from her teeth as she spoke. "Do not trust her and report her whereabouts. She now has two children, so she should not venture too far from their sides."
Ophelia took a deep breath, looking at the renewed, green and live Aurora Basin while addressing the herd. "The Moon Goddess is at the root of the murders," she said. "She possessed Gaucho of the Throat to do her bidding, which is why we continued to find evidence of him at all the grave sites. At the final confrontation, Hototo, the son of the Earth, sacrificed himself to save a mare with a tree growing out of her back." Ophelia had seen Lignea before. Willow was her name...
"He is now dead. I believe ten total have been sacrificed in the moon god's destruction. Use caution when dealing with her in the future."
A cool breeze billowed her hair around her face, coat white as silence. "Kahlua and I from the World's Edge are in good standing. Also, Archibald and Ktulu are friends of mine. Gaucho and I have also developed an understanding, and we need to support him and his herd during this unsettled time. We have performed a trade, and he has since turned the Dragon's Throat into an island. While I was there, I watched explosions crash the earth into the ocean. The only way in and out is over a bridge which is only accessed by a key." There was no need to tell anyone that she possessed such a key. Not yet....
"Respect their boundaries as we would expect anyone to respect ours and wait at their threshold." Ophelia stared out at the group. "We will need healers soon as well. If anyone has anything to offer to this herd, please, speak now."
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.
02-16-2015, 08:46 PM (This post was last modified: 02-16-2015, 08:47 PM by Adelric.)
It is the uncertainty of being accepted that creates the drama in our lives.
The half-child practices in the shadows when he cannot be with his friend, his surgical needle and suture twisting and turning before him in the air, performing acrobatic feats as his mind asks it to. The motions had been unpracticed when he had first found the item- jerky and unpolished; now they are more fluid, graceful instead of segmented, and they only grow stronger. When Tobias tries to help him, the motions once again fall to jerking and sputtering, but there is also more power, and the boy wonders that if together they cannot accomplish more than they can on their own. Still, there has been no need of his tool, and so he has not tried it on flesh. It disappoints him, haunts him in some ways, and he dreams at night of opening wounds so that he may then try to close them.
His practice is interrupted by the call of the prince’s father- a macabre man that frightens the half-child. He has never been near him, except briefly to be welcomed, but has not felt an urge to draw near. Still, the obedient yearling must submit to the man’s will, and he draws himself from his study be returning the needle to its leather pouch that hangs from Tobias’ ear.
When he gathers with the rest, his eyes begin to search for Zunden. He has not seen her in so long, has tried to find her, but he fears he is failing in the task he set out to do. He has promised his mother to protect her but he has not been able to. Just another failure to add to his list. Regardless, his search gets stopped and the half-child distracted as he suddenly sees Ophelia at the head of this meeting instead of Illynx. He likes her, he has liked her since he met her as a babe at the Sun God’s gathering, but he did not know her to be a queen of this land. Still, he cannot see Illynx anywhere. Is it true?
Absently, he listens to their politics, his mind not truly interested in stealths or enemies. It is not until they speak of doctors that his interest is truly peaked. His eyes brighten, gaze locking with hers when she glances his way, his tongue longing to speak and tell her that he is interested, although his interest is not really in healing, but rather studying the wounds that would come to him. Nevertheless, he is too quiet, too shy, too submissive, to speak, so he stands silent, staring at her, wondering if she will understand.
TL;DR: Adie is surprised to see Ophelia, but is happy because he likes her. He would really like to be a doctor so that he can use his surgical needle and study wounds, but is too shy to say anything.
Adelric
& Tobias
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Adelric at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing him.
Please do not tag Adelric unless it is in an opening post
02-16-2015, 09:20 PM (This post was last modified: 02-17-2015, 08:39 AM by Rhea.)
Flicking an ear to the calls of the ranked the hybrid debated whether or not to heed their calls. After that ridiculous journey upon the Earth God's "boat" she had just about had all she could take for the time being. At least her partner had not been a complete failure for they at least had managed to snag one of the higher up seating arrangements. The teardrop charm tucked behind her ear was proof to this accomplishment. While they had half assed the duties they had somehow managed to please the God despite their real intentions of wanting to drown many of Helovia's occupants they had deemed unworthy.
Rising from the steam with much reluctance she shakes the water from her hide and sets forward to see what this little fiesta would bring. It was likely that she would still be the target of all the jokes and rash comments but she was so over being bothered by such games. It had been a couple months now since she had joined this iceland and she had more than proven she was not about to jump ship at the first sign of trouble. Why in the hell would she want to help others like her who refused to see what they really were? Her blood was tainted yes but she had found ways to live with such a deformity to benefit herself in the long run. Like it or not there was still the pure blood of their ancestors running through her veins. She belonged to this tundra and it was about time that the others got on board with it.
Striding forward with little hesitation her bicoloured eyes soon fall upon their two leads awaiting their audience. Ophelia had been one of the few that did not seem to mind her presence but if she could remember correctly Deimos had been rather opposed to it. Tilting her head to each in polite recognition the mare moves to stand near the other Basin occupant who had already arrived. Turning once more towards the leads she listens patiently to the information provided before taking a chance to speak. The latest news concerning the mare know as Confutatis drew her attention as she placed the name away for further examination at a later time. Surely if this bitch was causing so much of a ruckus her name would be worth looking into. As for the Throat's inhabitants she knew little of their rankings but for some reason the name Gaucho seemed vaguely familiar. Ah! The shrieking harpi from the beach, that was this Gaucho the murderer. Less than intelligent if she remembered correctly, a rather surprising choice for the leader of the Throat.
The news that seemed to be a surprise to most somehow didn't phase the dark hybrid as much. The one meeting she had with the Moon Goddess had been rather eventful but she had sensed then that something wasn't quite right about that one. That bitch was rude, intelligent and way too full of herself, it was no wonder she turned out to be some psycho master puppeteer. Perhaps she might have to go about trying for another meeting with this so called Goddess in the future just to see how much things have changed between then and now. Once both Deimos and Ophelia had finished their little speeches regarding the politics she gave a couple moments for the news to sink in before allowing her words to escape into the silence.
" As you had requested I have fulfilled your demands and proven my loyalty. I do believe my trial stay to be over by now. I offer you both my services wherever I might be needed." She commented daring to meet Deimo's eye before turning to Ophelia.
This was the point that she needed to move forward and find out just who she would become as things progressed. Nothing she had done in the past months had even remotely suggested loyalty to any other species but that of their own. This was her home and this was going to be the beginning of her forging an identity for herself.
The Songbird whittled her way through the forest outcrops and the tundra regime, trying to remember how to flutter instead of slink and crawl. The herd meeting was a nuance she was partial to gathering and collecting herself for, not where one could simply drown themselves in the weight of their recent sorrows. So she remembered flight, and dancing, and waltzing across grounds with a petal-soft movement, not drawing eyes to the riddles and blights of burn scars across her spine, along her side, bending and swaying with the breeze like her namesake, a drifting swallow on the wind. She meandered within the middle, poised aloft as a nightingale, lilting and harmonic, albeit a trifle confused at Ophelia’s presence (had she been wandering off for so long that she never noticed or heard of the new Lady? A bite of shame tore through her; saddened by Illynx’s departure, broadened in her ignorance of Ophelia’s ascension). She shuffled a tiny whisper, a bow in the Forsake's direction, a quick wink to set her mind at ease. "Congratulations." Her pulse quickened at the mention of Confutatis and the Regime, for she’d been there, the healer cast down onto their suffering, and it’d been a brutal, barbaric twist to her soul, to see these poor rattled children and their dear, beloved mother, Arah – she swallowed her gasp and sigh, listened closely for other bits of information she’d require. The murders, another motion of the melancholy, and her gaze tore away from her leaders for a few moments to see if Ode had joined them, still alive, still whole, not a figment of her imagination, not a permanent stature of hallucinations and visions. Gaucho, a name she wasn’t wholly familiar with, and the Moon Goddess, a traitorous edge again. She pressed her lips together and offered naught but a downcast stare traveling the length of the melting rime and summer grass, prospering over what she could bestow to the cadre now. Breathing in, gathering strength, the nymph raised her gaze to both Deimos and Ophelia, shaping her smile into a whimsical grin, an ebullient sketch, a warbling demonstration of aria potency. “I’ve recently traveled to the Edge to deliver herbs. I can do the same for the Throat, to show our support and armistice.” They’d remarked upon new healers as well (and she wondered what had become of her fellow Time Menders, lost in the mist and swirl; D’art, the poisons master, and Tangere, the willing newcomer?), so she proffered her arts and skills to the mass. “If anyone would like training, please come see me. I’m always willing to provide lessons.”
Lena</style> where there is love, there is life.</style>
As they were summoned, Rhiannon did not wait to make her appearance.
Through the newly reformed Aurora Basin the brindled Weaver walked towards the meeting place, muscles rolling as she sashayed across the land towards where everyone was gathered. Dual-toned oculars searched out the familiar, alluring shape of her coral-coated goddess, but could not spot her, and so the Weaver focused on the forms of Deimos and Ophelia. With a soft breath the mare came to a halt, remaining on her own and away from the majority of the crowds, teeth grinding and head shaking with troubled thoughts.
The voices would not be silent, and without Hotaru around to soothe her inner demons, their rage, desires, and lusts ran rampant within her skull. It was all troublesome and annoying, and soon to give her a terrible headache.
'Be silent, demons,' Rhiannon thought bitterly, scathingly, icy-silver and molten-gold oculars narrowing as she focused not upon the voices in her head, but the familiar vocals of her leaders. Deimos and Ophelia were a powerful alliance, and although Rhiannon didn't know Ophelia very well, nor had she even spoken to the alabaster Forsaken, the brindled mare found no reason to doubt her leading capabilities.
Ears twisted forward and horned head lowered towards the earth, but her eyes remained rooted upon the forms of her Lord and Lady, dual-toned eyes flashing beneath dark lashes. Confutatis was at it again, was she? The saliva in her mouth seemed to intensify at mere thought of sinking her teeth into the 'World Eater's' flesh, of ending her self-proclaimed 'reign'. Didn't that bitch-mare realize that she was but an annoyance before a great empire?
"Fool." Rhiannon muttered, her voice low and directed into the dirt and brush at her hooves. Eyes flicking away from Lord Deimos and Lady Ophelia and focusing upon the brush before her, Rhiannon lifted a hoof and began to grind down the blades of grass beneath the hard rocks, wishing it was the face of the 'World Eater', of Confutatis.
If only they would let her hunt the bitch down... She'd bring Confutatis' head back to her Lord and Lady, and rid the world of the disgrace.
Ophelia the Forsaken, the alabaster apparition, spoke of the Edge and the Throat, and of their 'alliance' between the herds. Bi-colored eyes snapped back up to the ivory Lady as she explained what had happened to the Throat, and the Weaver arched a brow. How very interesting...
"I'll do what I can," Rhiannon spoke up, gold-and-silver eyes locking on the impressive forms of Deimos and Ophelia, "Simply speak and I will serve." There was only so much she could do as a Weaver, but it was her duty, and she was there to serve... But she was also a soldier, a fighter, a warrior who craved blood, and she hoped that her Lord and Lady wouldn't forget.
I tried to sell my soul last night, it's funny he wouldn't even take a bite.
A call echoed across the frozen summer land, a call of authority, a call that summoned the dark heathens of the basin to come hither, to listen to the leader tell his dramatics and spout greatness. Okay, that may have been a slight exaggeration. His lord Deimos was anything but Dramatic. More like a really dark robot that marched to his own drum. Yeah, that was a good explanation. In light of the recent happenings in the land, I am not surprised that all where being summoned, from the murders, to the cleansing of the land... All very mysterious occurrences.
Slowly my lithe figure moves towards the gathering, making no attempt to hurry myself. I look around, contemplating my arrival just over a year earlier.... Soon would come to Glacia's first birthday. She was already growing tall and independent, and nearly halfway to her adult body. However, she and had begun to drift slowly apart, her interests lying in more of a healing rather than my more soldierstic ideals. Would she show up to the meeting? She better, or she would certainly be in trouble. It was good to get information from the surrounding area's, the latest news on allies and enemies alike.
Soon I arrive in the currently small gathering. My dark eyes rake across each equine figure, sorting into categories of, Like, Dislike, Known, Unknown, and, Not my daughter. Slowly I turn my attention away from the others, and upon The Lord and The Lady of the herd. As I listen I absorb the information from both, taking in what is helpful, and what is not. The news on the death of a child of earth was interesting, and the news about the Dragons Throat? Double interesting. Allies now, and the desert land has become an island? Oh it just gets more delicious!
Soon the speeches are over and done with, and the other members begin to offer there services. I figure why the hell not? "I am at your disposal as well, should I be of any use... However, I have not met this Confutatis, a brief physical description would help greatly..." A smile smile formed on my face. I had heard of her, but had never seen her, and some present might not know her face either. However, two children at her side gave me at least one thing to look for, and I would be very cautious should I find a mare with two at her side on my patrols.
"Speech here."
Tag;; @[] Words;; 417 words Notes;; Glacia will come tomorrow night! :3
Aviya moved in at the call of her king, her head raised with dark dignity, the world singing her song of pomp and circumstance in her wake. Her eyes cast to those that were settled beneath the hooves of the Lord and Lady, icicles piercing each figure with a cold cruelty that was so typical on her delicately painted white face. The death of her mother and the recent abandonment of her father had left her heart bitter and cold and she could feel it cracking, piece by piece, inside of her hollow breast. Despite her loss and her loneliness, Aviya was still a princess, royalty amongst rats, a driving force of her pure and noble unicorn blood.
She rested her gaze on the pitiful form of Sialia for but a moment, tail giving a flick to dismiss the bitch as nothing else but what she had proved herself to be: a grovelling coward hiding behind a facade of power, thin and fragile as the bones of mice Aviya crushed beneath her cloven hooves when they crossed her path at the wrong time. She looked, then, to the Ice Queen, the Lady of the Basin. Her mind was blank on opinion of the Lady herself, but the dragon that shared her soul plagued her as irreconcilable swine in the demon woman's eyes. Her blood was tainted, and while she was veiled in the beautiful landscape of her unicorn blood, she chose to walk the bath of the equine by bonding to her dragon. It left a pit in Aviya's stomach, and she knew her king, their engineer, and her phantom warrior could only feel the same.
Now was not the time for hatred, however. In her father's stead, Aviya needed to act. "Lord Deimos, my father is no where to be found. Him and Aramis have left no trace, and I offer myself to step into his service, should it be needed. Do not doubt my words when I say my father taught me well." It was true. Aviya, the dark princess that she was, had a working knowledge and memory of the herbs that could heal and poison. d'Artagnan had been given the knowledge by the God of the Earth, and he had passed it to his daughter. She was more than a warhammer, a walking tool of vengeance and malice. She was keen, and she saw with sharp eyes. She would serve well as a Time Mender, should the title be given, but she would just as willingly stay in her place as a warrior.
Eventually, Aviya would have her title. Through work of mind or through the spilled blood of those in her way, she would have it.
It did not feel as though it were a welcome respite from his cave; on the contrary, the Haruspex felt awfully wrong footed and ill at-ease when he stepped away from the comforting shadow of his hideaway, away from the clouds of dust he had churned, the smell of fatty compounds he had used to treat and polish the cave within which he now lived. Ah, but it was his duty to answer the call of his superiors whenever it sounded, whenever his righteous Lord and gentle, lusterless Lady beseeched their brethren into action or joyous comradery.
The herd he arrived to was…thin. Wide, ice-white eyes scanned the faces who had also answered the urgent summons of their monarchs. His heart--or at least the edge of its void-- tugged a little in despair as he surveyed the dwindling of his family. Soldiers, gone. Healers, vanished. “Where are the children…?” he murmured to himself with an affected sort of little sigh. It stirred little within him, the worry of a child’s fate--for children died just as readily and efficiently as any adult heart or body. It was only unfortunate that the Basin was no longer adorned and decked with the merry laughter of happy children ringing through its halls. Why, even little Aithniel had provided her own force of warmth, for her stinging, burning gazes and tiny contempt had been happily overlooked by the wide-eyed, dappled stud.
Oh, but how quickly those seasons seemed to turn lately, regardless of the darkness of his cave. For the mirror shown brightly now, newly polished and cleaned, his old, dearly-held carcasses finally discarded, for their rot had become worthless to him. The sun was blazing this summer, and with its heat came a fresh space, devoid now of lingering, lusterless hairs that had once belonged to what was now a corpse resting in repose. Hello, child,” he said in a jovial undertone, approaching what seemed to be one of the last children who lingered in these frozen reaches, a child who seemed to be blossoming into his less-than perfect adult form; he stood a little ways away, completely smitten with the barbed designs that adorned the thickening neck of the youth. He smiled at the child, madness dancing gleefully behind a frosted lense of a frosted monocle; then, returning his attention to his lieges, his grin refused to falter, yet his words rang newly with fresh gravity. "I will consult with our Lord of Time when we adjourn from here,” he said delicately, reflecting on the information regarding the Moon Goddess. It had been far too long since he had summoned their wise, capricious lord within their own halls.
The princeling roamed in a stranger manifestation, not exuberant, not ebullient, not christened in droves of mischief or sedition, but seemed rather reclusive, quiet, slinking and slithering from the edges of their borders, drawn towards the crowd but not hovering in its midst. Distracted, his stare went from one member to the other, looking distinctly for Arah in particular, because he held news only for her (neither his father nor Ophelia could be the first, it wouldn’t be right or fair, the Impersonator should have the notification before anyone else, then decide what to do with it, where to jumble the pieces). Much to his disappointment, however, she’d yet to appear, and his mouth drew to a fine line, deliberating and calculating. He’d have to be patient, a skill he’d yet to acquire, and while his sire and the Forsaken spoke (his spine gave an earnest chill at murders, at mayhem, at thoughts of death and desecration), he loomed, wary, hesitant, skull twisting and turning at each member wandering into the midst. He spotted Zikar-Sin, a master of lessons and peculiar nuances, Aviya, promising to follow in her father’s footsteps, their current Time Mender rendering hopes and dreams into her ambitions, Rhiannon eternally offering her services, and a few others, but still no Rikyn, or even Aithniel (something in his chest tumbled and clenched, stare downcast, disappointed, disenchanted; Musketeers with no arms or swords broadening the horizon). The little heathen’s heart did pulse in comfort and composure when he saw Adelric and Tobias, maneuvering quietly to settle alongside them, constantly distracted in hopes of spotting the ivory doe wayfaring from the hills or tundra.
It was exceptional how much the general loathed herd meetings. Perhaps it was because it forced multiple senses into contact with Deimos; perhaps it was because he hated being surrounded by so many people. Whatever the cause, his ire was rankled as he drew himself alongside the crowd and listened to the words his leaders had to say. For the first time it was the death-dealing Basin Lord who spoke words he preferred to hear. Ophelia's, on the other hand...it seemed anything out of her mouth had the power to elevate or decimate him.
Today it was suspicious irritation, and sick, low feeling in the back of his mind. Worry. Insecurity. Funny how strong those sensations were unless constantly ameliorated.
Those that had gathered thus far were surprisingly few. He caught sight of Deimos' hellspawn, though the child had been pleasant enough the singular time they'd encountered each other. Erebos did not yet possess the destructive will of his sire. Zikar-Sin was here, a stallion he'd never quite met. Children were in abundance today, it seemed. No sign of Ulrik, or Arah...though Lena was present.
Torleik's demeanor was almost sullen as he stood just close enough to the group as was necessary but still distinctly off to the side. The schism he felt only grew when Phi stated the Moon Goddess was behind the murders, and the ice that settled around his frosted hooves didn't seem to melt quite as fast. The very same goddess he'd been forced to pledge a favor to...
A frown shifted his scarred lips and he stared at the ground. This...begged some explanation. As well as some details about this peace brokered with the Throat. But neither was a discussion for now.
I've heard the call for a meeting, and begrudgling I've decided it would be in my best interest to attend. I can catalogue faces and smells of those I have yet to meet, and keep up to date on herd politics. I don't care for politicking, but when there's so much of it, it is wise to stay on top of the sly dogs and their plans. As long as I'm in a herd, I run the risk of being caught at a disadvantage and stirring up trouble I may have not intended. Following the other migrating bodies that have heard the call as I have, I find myself before our two leaders. I have never met either of them, but know them to be Deimos and Ophelia, Lord and Lady of the Basin.
I hear them speak names that I am unfamiliar with, but seem to ring with familiarity to those that have gathered around me. I look at the faces, searching for ones I recognize. I recognize Sialia, from my arrival in the Basin - the mare that was pregnant, teased by Illynx and Thranduil. But the others are completely strange to me, and I frown, disappointed with my ignorance. What's worse is that I have no excuse. My expression sours and I pad forward silently into the midst of the equines, watching and listening carefully. I may have to become more social than I'd like, if I'm to gain the upper hand.
Confutatis of the Regime. Enemy of the Basin. Two children. Kahlua, Queen of the World's Edge. Gaucho, King of the Dragon's Throat. The Moon Goddess, untrustworthy. I remember the murders that kept popping up around Helovia, but didn't care much to investigate. A death is a death. Hototo, Son of Earth, gave his life in the chaos. 'A foolish dead.' I have yet to understand why self-sacrifice is considered a valiant deed. All it does is make you dead. The Throat is now an island, and Ktulu and Archibald are friends of Ophelia. I do not know them. Is this relevant information? I try to make note of it, just in case. Several females speak up, but none of them really provide me any clues to their identities. They all seem brainwashed to serve, however. Only Sialia says anything of worth, asking for a description of Confutatis. Foolish cub! Why did it not occur to me to ask that? "And of Ktulu, and Archibald?" I figure I should figure out on my own Gaucho and Kahlua, being leaders, but if I'm to make sure Ktulu and Archibald stay away from fang and claw, I better know how to recognize them as well.
A cry wrapped like laurel wreaths round the fae's ears, sinking in and drawing her from the light doze she had assumed. Alice perked her fuzzy head up off the ground, tail thumping against the slate and wafting billows of dark smog that exuded naturally from her coat. Hotaru lifted her tiara towards the sound, eyes flickering down towards her demon in silent beckoning. The two exited in tandem, long strides across snowy tundra. Alice was properly subdued, aware that they had an image to uphold that was far more important than a singular meeting with an individual. They would all look upon the pair, a multitude of eyes that all judged in their different ways. Nobody could ever plainly say that they did not, after all.
First in priority in the maiden's mind is to associate herself, to find out why she has been summoned, tune in an ear to her Lord and Lady while she is moving in lest she miss something beneath the sound of her approach. Deimos speaks first, forcing a snarled grimace onto the beautiful lady's face. Confutatis. One of her greatest achievements, only lost because of Gaucho's ridiculous notions. But in the end, she had helped secure peace with the Throat, not without some quick wagging of her tongue however. But apparently that was not worthy of note. Hotaru shrugged it off easily as she moved in, eyes locking upon her brindled warrior firstly.
A soft touch of her muzzle to Rhiannon's flank, and then Hotaru was focusing upon Ophelia's following words.
Silence was all that cloaked her tongue, staring out at her leaders, just another face to them. Another tool to be utilized. Hotaru understood well her place in the herd, her purpose. Just as they had not mentioned Tolio or Esther or Myrddin or Psyche by name. Forgettable. It curdled bitter and unpleasant on her tongue, but she said nothing regardless. There was no real use for sentimentality, her random bouts of it were mere distractions.
Healers were called to hand, but Hotaru did not answer nor speak in regards to that. She was a hurricane, a devil cloaked in spring robes. Hotaru hurt, she broke things with a purposeful intent. The she-wolf was incapable of healing others. She would have to find another use, another purpose, if they decided they needed more of her somehow.
Her only words came to echo out in favor of Sialia's and Saffron's words, both known mares for the young thief. "Confutatis is dark as coal, with a distinct skull marking upon her face, and a blinded eye. She has hair of silver and a mouth of sores from her acidic bite." Her eyes never wavered from where they leisurely swept between Ophelia and Deimos. It was tempting to give descriptions of Ktulu and Archibald as well, but her eyes pierced down upon her Lady as if executing a bitter sort of mocking. She knew the relationship between Ophelia and Ktulu. Had been there when Ophelia had abandoned her herd, the coward she had once been. Hotaru's emotions were eternally conflicted regarding the icy woman, she doubted they ever would settle.
Perhaps it was time she finally sought her out.
Summary: Arrives, says nothing until the end where she describes Confutatis for Sialia.
Phantom was a silent observer, ears tilted forward as she listened to the news the Lord and Lady provided. The news of the murderer being identified was both welcomed and unwelcome. Welcomed because the murders were at a stop and unwelcome because it showed just how weak they all were against the influence of the gods. It was disgusting and left a bitter taste in Phantom's mouth as she was sure it did everyone else's. One by one the herd gathered and one by one they all offered their services and their opinions on this Confutatis that Ophelia spoke of with such distaste. It made her wonder why they had not captured the mare and put an end to her 'reign' of terror.
Another mare arrived and gave a description of Confutatis that had been previously asked for. Pale lids fell over crimson eyes as she thought back, trying to remember if she had come across a mare fitting the description, but she came up blank. "Can we not capture her?" Phantom asked simply as she raised her gaze to Ophelia. "And kill her." The question spoke volumes of Phantom's upbringing, but the best way to deal with a troublemaker was put them down, was it not? If Confutatis was as much of a burden as Ophelia's tone and lip curl made the pale maiden believe she was then the world would not be missing much and the Basin would be better off. She wondered, though, how many of them would agree with her and if Ophelia would condemn her for her view on the situation. What was the saying? You can take the girl out of Dorngarrow but you can't take Dorngarrow out of the girl?
"."
Phantom
if only the committed will survive is there anybody here still alive?
02-19-2015, 11:58 PM (This post was last modified: 02-20-2015, 12:21 AM by Panzram.)
My lips pulled back into a disgruntled snarl as the deep echo of a stallion demanded the presence of the Aurora Basin residents. The echo was a voice that was unfamiliar to me but held all the authority that I could have possibly dreamed of snatching out from beneath his hooves, surely it must have belonged to the so called "lord" of this wasteland. How long had I lived here? How long has my presence been lurking in the shadows? Hiding in the caves and keeping my distance from the herd while studying and learning all I could from those that dared to get too close to the viper's hiding hole. Silently, I popped my horned crown out from my cave, dark optics burning onto the unicorns that made their way towards the call. 'Ugh, what fun shall we have today?' The thought was laced with sarcasm, eyes rolling back for a moment whilst ears flicked towards my mane before I began to slowly follow the crowd. 'Sheep. I'm a damned sheep following a fucking flock of sheep lining up to be told what to do next. Watch us wiggle our fluffy asses to the leader without question, waiting to be sheered and shed of all our value as an individual for the sake of a herd.'"Baa-a-a-a." It was the only sort of vocalizing I would do in this meeting, muttering my imitation under my breath before I could reach the meeting. My nares flared with a wild snort, devilish horns tossing into the air with disdain before I finally settled behind the majority of the gatherers.
As my dark gaze scanned over the crowd, picking away those that were recognizable and focusing on the unfamiliar faces, I kept quiet. When a voice spoke out, my orbs shot dangerously towards the owner of the voice, settling on an ebony and slate stallion that faced his audience with an impassive pride. Though my own expression was stoic, behind the blank stare were vile musings of disorderly conduct. This was the leader, the lord that I was supposed to blindly follow and put my services towards? This was the stallion that the Lady Illynex led beside, and while she went missing the ivory mare was her replacement?! At least I had been able to introduce myself towards Ophelia, though our meeting was brief. But the lord...Oh what the hell was his name...Deimos, that's gotta be it, I know I've heard it before. I have lived here for several seasons now and yet we had not even introduced ourselves towards one another. What kind of leader does not stay up on who is living in his herd? What kind of leader would just trust to let anyone, well...anyone with a horn, live in his lands? A foolish imbecile that trusted his pretty little lady's word, that's what kind of leader would do that. Oh for the days that I ruled over the Srotigus Pit, when I would be amongst the first to corner a new arrival before they had a chance to even try to get into the depths of my home. And certainly, my judgement call would be the final step towards someone actually being allowed to live in my domain. Certainly, this herd was quite a bit larger than the Srotigus Pit, but clearly I was a little more decisive. Here? A damned joke, got a horn? Cool, come join the cool kids club! Every one gets their own sheep hat!
Never in a million years would anyone around me be able to suspect that my thoughts were not only passing judgement onto them, but casting aside those that I hadn't even seen before. The relaxed state of my ears, perfectly feigned attention in my eyes, loose facial muscles... Just another phantom aligning myself to their cause. While the leaders spoke I logged away the important details in the back of my mind, auds flicking foward with interest when it was announced that the mastermind of the killings was the Moon Goddess, and the tiniest twitches of a devilish smirk kissed at my lips. Oh, that she-devil! I knew she was a woman after my own heart, perhaps I could come across this crazy bitch one day. When the leaders had finished their speeches, my auds flicked to each of the voices that spoke in return, the majority of them offering their disparaging loyalties that they instantly binded themselves with, chaining their talents, bodies, services and minds to their leaders. It was an absolutely sickening display that surprisingly brought a sense of jealousy in my heart, their thoughtless devotion towards the stallion and mare asking for their services was something that I craved, hunted and killed for. I would be damned if I lived this life for the rest of my days, and I kept silent as I swore to myself that I would achieve such loyalty from others someday. A few other souls remained quiet, each of them earning a bit more respect from myself as they simply listened. My gaze lingered momentarily at a...Is that a tiger? Well, that was certainly unexpected. It's not like a tiger held a horn upon her head, so was it out of fear that they agreed to let her join their lands? Strange, it was so against the nature of such a predator to even live with other tigers, much less something that she would normally eat. I made a mental note to be sure that I spoke with the tigress at another time, before continuing to listen to the rest of the bunch. 'That's right, baa-a-a-a you fuckers.'
A small handful of souls spoke of the trouble causing mare, Confutatis - a mare who I would like to meet based off of their descriptions of her. But the words of a white mare with scarlet horns brought a smirk to my lips, and curiously I glanced towards the leaders to gauge their reactions to her question. Yes, why not just trap the little beasty and kill her? Weren't we supposed to be the best amongst the herds? If that was the case, why was it that one little, half-blinded vixen could give them such grief?
OOC: Basically Panz is just standing there listening to everything, lol.
Please tag Panzram in first posts only. Violence and magic can be used on him, just please do not kill or permanently injure/maim.
Away from the south, the Basin lingered on the edge of a wintry coolness. Summer never quite arrived within its stone walls, never settled within their northern borders. Snow still persevered under the shadows, slowly melting ice clung to the boughs of evergreens, as if there was never warmth enough to pervade the frigidity of their home. Much had changed since the last time the denizens of the Aurora Basin had congregated beneath their leaders in the palm of the valley. Returning home from the Earth God's vessel had been a relief, and he joined the gathering as he always had, lingering at its edges so he would not feel smothered by the masses. His gaze settled upon the distantly familiar form of Ophelia as he neared, recalling past negotiations with her herd, when she had led the Foothills alongside her tenacious sister. She had come far. Roland found himself wondering what might have brought her to the snowy north, to the Basin and its helm, its crown, so quickly. And what had happened to Illynx? Where had the Gilded Blade lost herself in the turmoil that had plagued them over the last few seasons? The Thief hoped she was well, wherever she might be.
He was not opposed to a change in leadership, necessarily. It had a tiresome tendency to bring on new rules and laws, new expectations. They had yet to discover what Ophelia might impose upon them. Perhaps she would lead them accordingly, or perhaps she would not. Roland was not quick to condemn her to his doubt; only time would tell, after all. At the very least, the Reaper was there, statuesque and stoic as ever. The Thief listened raptly to the news that he brought, the mention of current alliances and prosperous trades, a hope for future commerce. Aside from the looming threat of the Regime, it seemed that all was well.
His attention turned to Ophelia as she stepped up, and Roland's skin crawled at her mention of the murders. His jaw clenched at the thought of the Gods; of their fallen son, their fragile, shattered methods and schemes. They no longer had the capacity to hold his faith within them any longer. He had bore witness to their failings one too many times, had grown up a disillusioned youth under the preachings and practices of an unquestioningly devout nation, fell prey to their righteous appeal; but he would not be the victim any longer. The Gods would not have his prayers, his devotion, his affection. He wanted nothing from them any longer, not after he had seen all they could take.
The golden stayed away from most, though that wasn’t unusual. While a run in with one or two of his ‘herd members’ was sometimes a good laugh, a general reunion was not. A cool wind blows through the gathering and the gold shaking his head, reaches back to pull at his golden cloak. He wore it even on this mildly warm day for it was his new pride. Though nothing of course could tear that circlet from atop his head. Now the dark devil gets up on the stand. The golden had seen much of him lately. Pity it wasn’t all fun and games. A dark figure peaks from behind the golden’s legs and earns the creature a snort. Haldir steps out anyway, to see the dark devil and the gathering before them. He did so love seeing all the unicorns. The gold was not of the same mind, but they listened anyway.
Well, it was just great. While yuppy ranks such as crafters thrived in alliances, his were being cut off. Harks lean back there was only one herd left to pick from and it didn’t have much to offer. What would become of spies, thieves, and sneaks in a world of peace and harmony. Out of a job that’s what. It was a bitter thought the gold must swallow, he’ll work on the project of wrath, war, and ruin later. At least Deimos was more discreet about the she witch Confutatis. Of course the lady was not. Having that dark devil go off and spar the bitch had been a satisfying payback for the Reaper’s recent laughs. But it was still not something he wanted everyone to know. Tasseled tail flicks with aggression as the meeting goes on.
Now the topic shifts to more, unsavory matters. The Moon Goddess. The gold was still unsure of it. His mind wandered to the say at the Rotunda and he is lost in thought for a moment. Though he had allied with her that day, it would not mean he would do so every day. A name broke through the silence. Kahlua, the damsel queen. The golden’s face, trained as it was, did not break but he listens again to the ramblings. Gaucho. The golden was still at a loss of what do with that fire bird. Relations were not so good in that area, but the golden had new tricks of his sleeves. It appeared, the dun did too. He had blown his land bridge. But ah a key! It flashed in his eyes like gold. He wanted that key, no he needed a key. Just as anything, tell him he can’t have it, and he wants it.
Well that was the news. Not much new though. There were a few other small items. A winged hybrid that the golden had seen before steps forth, he is surprised to see her still here….with wings. Was Zikar-Sin hibernating or did he not see the perfect experiment.
There was also Krieger’s son. The golden sneers from afar that he still remains, and has a deer at his side. Haldir of course took great interest in it when his eyes fell on them. But there were far too many distractions today to keep a steady thought.
Sweet thing was here, as always being sweet. He still did not know how to take her kindnesses, nor did he think she trusted him. Still with a fling of a thought the gold wonders if her heart still pours into a copper man’s.
Bitch was here too. Rhiannon. She’s her usual self though. Firey and bold. A long sigh for her is on the golden’s lips. She still aggravates him to no end. He wonders though whatever became of the mare, Fable, they both met at the border.
Sialia was here, and unpregnant. Shocker. The gold never did look into the parent, nor did he search for the child. It had been one of those fun leads that got loose in those busy days.
A mare steps forward through the crowd and takes the gold’s attention. Her glass horn was broken….just like…Father. Bingo. So D’Art found himself and this Aramis (who the gold did not know) gone. Well that was a curious change. Too bad the gold didn’t like the old doctor enough to demand a search party.
A voice breaks through the silence and sure enough old Zinny pops up. The gold smiles, remembering the creature from their murder thing. The unicorn humored him, in a twisted way. His attention to children was also twisted humor. The gold thanked his stars he was not young enough to be the man’s student.
The prince appears and it weighs on the gold’s mind for a moment. He’d yet to engage much with the youth, who was quickly growing up. Still, his ability to be so unlike his father was worthy of investigation. The gold would put him down on the waiting list.
Looking around for any of his spies the gold spots a lovely enemy. Torleik The gold was still bristled around the ‘general’. His trick not so long ago falling on death ears. It was a pity. It would have been a lovely show. Perhaps it did linger in the man’s mind, but his inability to show it was most disappointing, though his sullen silence was cause for a small smile.
Saffron speaks up. The gold liked that cat. Though Haldir noticeable gave a shiver. He should check on the tigress progress with their….little project.
At last his eye lands on one of his spies. The pink one. She stands in an almost regal silence, with a few side glances. Her seeming friendship with the bitch was not surprising, but not welcomed. Still a golden hark listened close to her words. His mind thinking of such a description.
A pale mare speaks up and the gold is surprised to see her. In fact he had never seen her. Her questions are legitimate but not worth answering by him, so he moves on.
Ah there’s another one spy. Panzram. Pity he hadn’t gotten into trouble yet it seemed. The gold was so hoping he would cause a stir. Still, now that the spotted blood blade was under his watch, the gold might just be waiting for a chance to straighten him out himself. That would be fun afternoon.
At last, Roland is spotted. Curious he does not move towards sweet thing. Perhaps he was just busy. The copper man was a curious sort. Not doing business at all like the golden. Still, he had proven himself in the riddles, much to the golden’s amusement, for the copper man never seemed to make it to the true stealths.
Well was that it then? My that wasn’t a lot. Still the gold knew most everyone and that was most soothing to his pride. Shifting his weight the gold thinks of those missing. Arah, Ulrik, Deodat, Aithniel (had she finally taken flight?), and a slued of foals. Perhaps one or two were just late. Tisk. Tisk.
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.
She harbours a sword within her unquiet roaring heart,
Arya slipped in at her mother’s side. Since the flood a new leaf charm lay tucked behind her ear. All she could think of was her friend. Really they had worked together impeccably. It had been a fun adventure and Arya would give anything to do so again. She heard the summons of her leaders, and so, she answered them. They spoke of who the murderer was and she felt her blood churn. “Gaucho…” She muttered under her breath. Possessed or not he had been weak enough to succumb to the dark power. Loathing began to pump through her veins and she felt one ear swivel backward.
On they went though. Discussing some mare named Confutatis. Her mother arrived and described the mare. Both of the huntress’s ears perked forward. All she thought of was little Nymeria. The pretty skull-faced filly that she had met mere months ago. When mother mentioned killing the mare, Arya felt her blood boil even more. “If we kill her then her foals will die to!” She bristled. It might’ve been out of place but she wouldn’t hear talk of murder. “And if any of you think they deserve to de to because of their mother, then you’re no better than her.” The child glanced about the group, daring any of them to speak with open disdain. Nymeria had been harmless. They had played together. Maybe they could one day be friends. No matter, she wouldn’t rob Confutatis’s twins a chance at life and to grow.
arya woman-kingfont color=#eebabb>arya woman-king
• tag in opening posts only
• violence/magic is permitted. maiming/death is not without prior permission
The summons of the frozen kingdom beckoned, and like any good disciple, he obeyed. Much of the herd life of the Aurora Basin was yet to be explored by the young stallion, a testament to such as he drifted towards Lena's side among the crowd, furthered by his silent watchfulness of the happenings rather than his involvement. He was much like the Cuckoo bird, laid in a nest not of his design, raised by a family not of his kind, but feigning the role as such as it suited him.
This was not to say that Öde was an antisocial sort. Quite the opposite - gods required worship, which was fueled by followers. Rather Öde was so incredibly selfish and and self absorbed he hadn't the time to spare on integrating himself fully into this Stepford family. He would do enough to get by, and in this period of youthful inexperience he would glean all that he could, but in the end, he was a barnacle on this frozen hull.
Still, even if loyalty didn't hum inside his chest, at least not loyalty for here, he was not an abhorrent member. He attended the meeting now, and would do so int he future. He took upon himself the mantle of warrior, his blood set to feed the pale landscape (even if it was menders they called for), and he would forge ties with the members of the frozen fortress. Ultimately the only thing that separated him from any good citizen here was that he did these things because he had to, rather than wanting to.
Öde was quite simply, a self entitled teenager, helped along no better by his numerous deaths and absence of parental guidance. "Excuse me?" came the doldrums of his mother, her voice rattling his mind with crow caws. "I guided you plenty!"into hell.
It's said that the pits of the wicked are frozen over rather than cast in flame. If so, he was right where he needed to be, seated on darkness and ice.
[Shitty whiny post FTW!]
THE GLASS IS HALF EMPTY
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!
As the snowflakes cover my fallen brothers, I will say this last goodbye.
Déodat had been out on patrol. He heard the beckoning of his companion. A gathering of the herd, and so he left behind his lone patrol and walked toward the group. From some corner of the Basin, his companion appeared. There was no exchange between the pair, they rather simply stood there in silence. They listened to the news they poured out. Murders, moon goddesses and Confutatis. He rolled his eyes. It was only a matter of time before the bitch spawned. He flicked his long tail and listened to the others speak. A frown passed over his lips when he heard his daughter’s outburst. She spoke of the World Eater’s whelps.
She befriends pegasi, Odette, and she weeps for children born from poison, he turned his gaze down to his companion. Does this make me a poor father? He had tried so hard to convince his daughter of her proud heritage. Since she was a babe he had whispered of the gift her horn was. No matter what she spat upon his lessons and her lineage. His child’s head was filled with butterflies and the disgusting lie of equality. His daughter had forsaken her lineage and he was at a loss of what to do.
Déo, Odette said as she brushed against his leg. Love her. She your daughter. Arya loves. Let her love. He sighed and nodded his head slowly. Arya had a sharp tongue and a big heart. It was simply who she was and he knew she wouldn’t change for anyone.
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