"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.
The girl often comes to these tall dark woods. She likes the way that the shadows stretch themselves upon the floor, and the way her hooves make little noise. Her gut quivers the deeper she goes, filled with a tension, and an excitement, and even a little fear. These woods seem utterly magical and mysterious to her. She has not even begun to scour even half of them, but still she feels as if she knows them. The earth is her lineage and her birthright.
She comes here often to escape.
The girl leaves the Edge in her raven form. Although many who dwell in the cliffs know her by that shape, many outside do not. The girl hopes today - as she has hoped on many other occasions just like this one - that no one will take notice of one oddly large crow flying into the woods. A demi-child? Yes. A bird? Nah. She drops below the canopy of leaves, her black body easily shifting to avoid branches that called out to her to perch. She flies through the columns of light with grace and ease, heading towards the deep pool. The girl likes the way the pool almost appears to be filled with blood, but when the waters are stirred you quickly realize that it's crystal clear. This spot, the conjunction of water and earth, is where she likes best to hide.
Landing on feet that are suddenly equine, the girl slips from her raven form into her body. She has grown considerably - her legs are long and lanky and threaten to continue to grow. Although she was only born at the beginning of Tallsun she already looks half a year old. While her eyes seem to sparkle with a wisdom beyond her years - when she uses her magic as she is now, a youthful thrill gives her away.
The girl lays down next to the pool. She likes the way the pine needles and dirt press upon her belly. Her coat does not become dirty as she does this, instead it just becomes dirt. Her outstretched hind-legs begin to grow moss, and her hooves seem to be composed now of thick chunks of clay. Moss creeps up her tail, and begins to lovingly cover her flanks as well. The girl doesn't mind. The more invisible she becomes, the more hidden she will stay. Her head and shoulders do not succumb to this magic, for they continue to move slightly and she weaves a different sort of magic.
The girl discovered not to long ago that she could control the earth, as well as compose herself out of it. She whispered little shapes into being and watched with joy as they moved around her. Three shapes - roughly the size of herself - carried out some soundless play meant solely for her enjoyment. They seemed to be created out of clay and dirt, with some grass and moss on their 'heads' for good measure. They sort of looked like dragons, but in most respects they did not. They were simply the abstract creations of a powerful child.
With bright golden eyes the girl watched as her shapes skipped around the pool, chasing one another.
I'LL BE YOUR NUMBER ONE WITH A BULLET a loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
It was magic, he just didn't know what kind it was.
He'd felt it tingling underneath his skin, felt it rippling like a muscle spasm and tickling his sides. It had begun slowly, growing steadily until he was infuriated, nearly insane from the need to know just what was going on in his head. He'd paced the ground, run from the Throat and toward the woods- not the woods with the Rotunda today, where he seemed to have all his adventures, but new woods, darker woods, woods that sang of a certain mysterium and echoed the call of the magic in his veins. The forest smelled like oldness and secrets, and the boy was sure that somewhere in these trees, he would find the perfect one to scratch that itch which had been plaguing him for an entire two whole days.
Hours later, as he rubbed his barren shoulder against yet another trunk, Zèklè had to admit that he was still as stumped as ever. He had tried to use his magic like Ma did, making things move or making sparks or anything, but so far absolutely nothing had worked. Small hooves kicked at the moist earth as the little colt huffed his growing aggravation, trying to ignore the rumble in his stomach and the fact that he was probably lost. He was tired, and sad- sad because he really, really wanted to be able to bring his knowledge home, sad because now he would have to ask Ma instead of showing her, because he wasn't big enough to figure it out himself.
He wanted to stop being a baby, to prove that he was growing up. Yet for all that, Zèklè could barely suppress the urge to simply sit down right there and cry.
And to top it off, he was definitely lost.
Tears welled up within sunbeam eyes, but the lightning-back boy would not let them fall. He shook his head, inhaling sharply, and paused because something smelled different. On top of the standard scent of trees and dirt was another, more familiar scent: that of a horse, a horse like him, who if nothing else would be company in the darkening woods. Zèklè had not yet learned to fear strangers, and it was with a trusting heart that he changed his course, eager for the possibility of distraction from his woes. Maybe it would be a friend- or even better, someone who could help him figure out what his magic was!
He found her lying beside a pool, and froze before barging into the scene, displaying a rarely seen sense of decorum. She looked kind of familiar, but also incredibly foreign, a bizarre mix of earth and horse which Zèklè could only stare at, agape. Was she a spirit, like Ma had talked about once, more plant than horse and filled with magic? Was she even real? Perhaps a cleverly built statue, but no, she was moving, her head still swaying and as the boy watched she built creatures from the earth, sending them cavorting around the pool.
Coolest. Thing. Ever.
He shifted, a twig snapping loudly beneath his hoof. The expression on his youthful face was candid amazement with a touch of awe, though disappointment still softened his impassioned glare. "Hi!" Carefully Zèklè stepped toward the pond, sniffling loudly before assaulting the girl with a barrage of shaky questions. "Did'ja make those? Are you a spirit? What's your name?"
Curious, he walked closer, lowering his head to inspect the mobile earth. "They're really cool!" the boy declared, looking up at the filly with the quiet beginnings of his trademark grin. Even if he didn't figure out his magic, just wait until Ma heard about this!
As the sound of the snapping twig reached the girl's ears, her body gave an involuntary jump. Her reflexes had been doing that to her quite often lately - things would compel her to move even without her rational mind's permission. She wished it would stop. Even now, as her muscles twitched and her muzzle and gaze moved towards the sound, she clenched her teeth together trying to halt the movement. The greenery which had been creeping up her body fell off, leaving a mossy and grassy ring around her painted form. Few things annoyed the girl - she had learned that unlike many others she had met, she was not susceptible to anger or frustration on a normal basis - however now, she was annoyed. Unlike the first few times she had used her magic with Mesec, a break in concentration now did not cause them to fall apart. They did however, stop moving.
As her golden stare fell upon the excited (and rather small) one-winged colt, her frustration significantly diminished.
The earthen-dragons, which had stopped moving, began slowly lumbering around the pond again as her attention was diverted back to them. A small smile graced her lips as she dipped her quad-horned head in confirmation. "Yes I did." She responded, her voice devoid of any pride, though it was still warm and soft. "I can make them out of water, too." Her follow up comment wasn't meant as a way of bragging, merely fact stating. If the boy found her earthen creations interesting, perhaps he would find her water creations interesting too.
"I am not a spirit. I don't think that they exist." She continued conversationally. Her paint-splattered body leaned to the side slightly so that she could more easily see the boy, without having to keep her neck bent so severely. "And I don't have a name. I haven't decided on one yet. Do you have a name?"
Although the girl was larger than Zèklè, she had come to understand that her rate of growth wasn't normal. She had seen others her age, born in the Edge at the same time, who still looked quite young - at least compared to the demi-child. Looking at Zèklè now she wondered if he was in fact technically older than her.
As her golden gaze appraised his one-winged stature, the girl decided that she liked him. Whatever his name was. He wasn't afraid of her like others were, and he asked questions. Most were annoyed with her when she berated them with questions, and even fewer asked anything of her other than to elaborate on her lineage. Smiling, she made her earthen-dragons lumber towards Zèklè, their bodies towering over him as they danced in circles.
I'LL BE YOUR NUMBER ONE WITH A BULLET a loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
She moved and the carefully built illusion snapped, a physical echo of the sound he'd make. Zèklè almost felt sad, watching moss and life fall from her sides, watching her return to boring normalcy- but of course she wasn't even close to being boring, or normal, and he was quickly distracted once again, his sadness tossed aside. Even without her earthen blanket he'd never seen anyone with markings quite like hers, and she had wings and horns like Breccan and Auriel. Maybe she knew them?
A small, selfish part of him hoped she did not, because then he could introduce them, and she could be his story to share.
He liked the way she talked, he decided, and stepped forward out of the trees. Even though she was older she didn't seem condescending, and unlike many she didn't seem to find Zèklè's curiosity tiring, or dumb. Her creatures lumbered toward him on earthen legs; he grinned, amazed, and peered upwards into ill-formed faces. Absently he nodded, as though the fact that she could make them out of water too was the most natural thing in the whole entire world (and why not? he'd been born into a world of magic, after all). "How long d'they last? I gots magic too, I think, but I dunno how to do it yet." Maybe something like that! How cool would that be?! He turned back to the girl and grinned, bottle brush flailing eagerly beneath blue-tipped tailfeathers.
When she said she wasn't a spirit Zèklè tilted his head, not quite disappointed but still innocently confused. "How come?" he asked the (apparently) older girl, frowning slightly as he tried to reconcile this affirmation with his mother's stories. Obviously Ma wasn't wrong, but the girl seemed pretty sure that spirits really weren't real. "My Ma told me stories 'bout 'em. She tells me lotsa stories. I could tell you some, but I'm not so good..."
He trailed off, suddenly bashful, and reached around to bite nervously at his barren shoulder. "'Sides," mumbled the half-boy toward his hooves, "Your Ma prob'ly tells you lots too." He felt embarrassment rising into his face. Silently, Zèklè hoped that the not-spirit-girl wouldn't take him up on his hastily made offer. He wasn't a storyteller, not like Ma, and there was no way he could ever do any of her tales justice.
His neck snapped back up when she asked him for his name, and the moment of inadequacy passed. He was happy for the change of subject. His name, now, that was something he knew!
But- but- !- the boy stared, agape, surprised, innocently unaware of any offence his actions might make. Haven't decided?! "Didn't your Ma name you?" he demanded, voice colored only by surprise, free of judgment and awash with confusion. His Ma had named him, and he'd never met anyone without a name before. Weird! He closed his mouth and looked back at the earth-beasts, before turning back to her, a suspicious glint in his sunbeam eyes.
The girl hadn't even tried to keep her creations alive for any extended length of time. She felt her body growing more and more tired the longer their permanence lasted, and she would often let them crumble rather than pushing herself to find out her limits. The thought hadn't ever actually occurred to her. She knew the duration of life was short, and so why shouldn't the duration of her ability to create be short as well? Turning her golden stare to the earthen beings, she shrugged. "They make my body tired the longer they last. " She replied, as if that was answer enough. They last as long as I can make them last.
His next question interested her much more. The girl had learned that there was much to learn in this world, and although she was slightly saddened to hear that this interesting creature had already been warped by the social constraints of a mother-son relationship, perhaps it had given him insight into things unknown. Did he really know more than she about spirits? Had his Ma given him some explanation about what the girl had taken to calling the solid-body problem? Her mind recalled the argument she had been flirting with, and her lips opened to allow her thoughts to tumble out. "I've seen dead bodies. Old ones who die, ones who are murdered. I've seen animals die in fires, and trees fall over. But what I don't see are spirits." She began, her voice finding a rhythm as she elaborated on her empiricist beliefs. "If you cut me, I'll bleed. So will you. You could open me up and find all the squishy things that make me work alongside my bones, but that is all you'll find. Everything can be explained by our physical nature - " As if to prove her point, she let her creations crumble to the ground, becoming mere clumps of dirt and moss. "See? Nothing." The girl's nostrils flared as she continued to think. Perhaps he would say that spirits were just invisible and that's why they couldn't be seen. But ... why? The question tugged at her mind. Why posit invisible entities to explain what mere physical description already could? Was it like having mothers and fathers? Were spirits just another thing that the rest of Helovia simply needed to believe in?
Her wide golden stare refocused upon the boy, hopeful and interested. Perhaps he would have the answers.
Finally, the girl shook her head. At first telling others that she didn't call Kahlua mother, but instead called her by her name seemed ... reasonable. Mother could apply to anyone. But Kahlua had been given a name that specifically meant her. Why would the girl call her anything else? But as more and more time passed, and the looks she received became more and more annoyed and intolerant, the girl had kept such thoughts to herself. As the boy mentioned that her Ma probably told her stories, and wondered about the nature of her non-name, the girl felt internal struggle. She wanted to tell him ... felt like he might understand, but was still partially gripped by the condescending and disapproving stares of so many who had come before him.
Taking a breath, the girl lowered her gaze, exhaling softly.
"No. My ... mother and I are not ... close?" Was that the right word? They weren't close ? "I'm not good with relationships." She confided softly, the truthfulness of her words making her face feel hot.
She had never told anyone that before.
"I asked her not to name me ... she wanted to though. Wanted my name to begin with a K to continue some ritual in her family but ... " Helplessly she shrugged her shoulders, her golden gaze rising and falling to see what he was making of her comments. "...I don't know. Names are important. A name is what they will call me for the rest of my life. One my cousin said that she just knew her name. I guess I'm just waiting until I find it."
I'LL BE YOUR NUMBER ONE WITH A BULLET a loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
The last of his tears and snot had dried, the terror of being lost now nearly forgotten. Zèklè nodded seriously, as though magic were something he understood, as though his affirmation of her statement would hold any weight in the grand scheme of things. Maybe it would. After all, they were merely two children, companions and compatriots, equals in the eyes of time and the world (or so the boy mistakenly believed). To each other they were grown-ups, and the boy loved it, loved that he could speak to her and not feel less than, not feel judged.
So when she began to talk about fire and blood and dead he steeled himself, clenching the uncertainty which rose in his belly at the thought of such depressing subjects. He had seen death, too, and blood- but what did that have to do with spirits? Carefully he listened, young brain working to make sense of the words, to understand her point and keep up with her. Bodies bleed. People die. Even the lumbering creatures she created were sacrificed to prove her point, much to Zèklè's dismay. Gosh, she was being such a downer, but she didn't even seem to realize it, didn't seem mean or like she was trying to scare him (she couldn't anyway, duh). She seemed to be talking to him, for real, and maybe that scared him more than anything else.
"Then whaddabout magic?" he asked her seriously, orange eyes wide in a youthful face. He had not given up on spirits, because even though what she said made sense it left out so much, abandoned a portion of the entire world. "I can't see or touch it but I know it's there. Spirits are like that, I think."
He nodded, rallying, fire re-emerging in the still-high voice, tail feathers spreading as his confidence returned. "'Sides, that's just our rules. Spirits are like Gods, and they gots different rules, and are made of magic, so of course they don't work like us. Ma says-" and he stops here, thoughtful. Yeah, Ma said it, but it's not like he can hide behind "Ma says" forever. This girl is full of all her own thoughts, never once has she talked about what her Ma said... and the boy recants, corrects, continues. "I think we're just a little part of the whole entire world, an' there's a whole lot more we don't even know, 'cus after all there's the whole entire ocean, and prob'ly spirits have their own world and it's just a little bit ours but mostly theirs. Maybe some spirits don't believe in us."
This was far more abstract than the boy usually got, but he was proud of his statement (his statement, not Ma's, and Ma would probably be proud too he hoped). Whether the spirit world was part of their dimension or an entirely other one was far outside his realm of reason or understanding. He was only a child, after all.
But so was she.
For all his tales and ideals, he was glad to be off the subject of spirits, though now he was onto entirely new terrain. Zèklè's Ma was his entire world, his safety, his courage, his best friend and strongest supporter. The fire of adoration which swelled within his breast at the thought of his Ma was... well, it seemed entirely absent in his newfound friend. The way she spoke of her Ma, like she was a stranger, filled the boy with a profound, confusing sense of sorrow. How awful, not to have that, that bond with a Ma that was better and brighter and stronger than anything else in the world.
Yet she didn't seem sad, and as she professed her difficulty with relationships the significance of it went through his ears, past his head. "I like you!" he declared brightly, trying to clear the sorrow which collected uncomfortably in his eyes. He couldn't for the life of him tell why she would have a problem making friends- she seemed great, if a little bit odd, to him.
He continued to listen, continued to think. The girl (what would he call her, if she didn't have a name?) was so incredibly different than anyone he had ever met, and it made him both happy and sad, made him feel respected and amazed. She could make monsters out of earth and talk about death, didn't have a name but seemed to know who she was all the more for it. In all his vast experience so far he hadn't seen anyone even close to being like her.
He smiled, and frowned, and listened and learned. There was a lot of new things in what she said, but he was determined to catch up. For a moment the only thing he could thing of to say was, "Why K?" because his brain couldn't even figure out any other questions, and that seemed interesting and normal enough. No name- she'd rejected the one given to her by Ma? He'd never heard of that, but it turned out he'd never herd of an awful lot of things, and so why not? Names were important, but weren't they more important to other people, the people who used them? The boy didn't think of himself as Zèklè, not in his head, but then what did he think of himself as?
Finally he nodded, sunbeam eyes falling into hers. "I guess I kinda 'stand," he said slowly, though really he wasn't sure he did. "But not really. I like the name my Ma gave me, 'cus it means lightning, and I gots lightning on me." He twisted, not without a little vanity, trying to offer the girl the best view of his shock-of-blue back, spreading the small, lonely wing for maximum effect.
Withdrawing his wing, he continued, young tongue struggling to find adult words. "But I guess... if I didn't feel like Zèklè was 'sposed to be my name, I'd hafta find a new one. And some'uv my friends call me Zero, which is ok. But I guess if you wanna choose your own name that's cool, too, 'cus it makes you happy..." He trailed off, suddenly abashed, painfully unaware of how to proceed.
Then a though struck him, and with an almost palpable jolt the boy sprung back to enthused life.
"Hey! Maybe I can help you find it! 'Cus we're friends 'n all, 'n then I won't hafta just call you spirit in my head all the time."
A grin, buoyant, boyish. He didn't think to question that they were friends. Nobody had a conversation like that, he reasoned, and then weren't friends at the end.
"'N maybe you can help me fig'r out my magic," he added, a hopeful afterthought, because after all- the girl was obviously really smart.
The girl felt the desire to argue, but held it at bay. It was an odd feeling really - she knew that there was an entire world of knowledge that she was completely ignorant of, and yet she felt compelled to offer her insight into matters that she had no business pretending to be an expert on. Still, the words were heavy on her tongue as she tried to swallow them. Air was invisible too, and yet it didn't have its own world. Just because you couldn't see something, didn't mean that it existed in some other metaphysical realm. Even if there were these other sorts of entities, it was laughable to think that they existed with their own set of rules and boundaries. For some reason, the girl felt sure about this. Whatever the rules of the universe were, they applied everywhere. Laws of nature didn't discriminate, but they did penetrate to every single entity. If something lived outside of those rules, then it lived outside of space and time. It just had to. The girl badly wanted to express these sentiments to her companion, but did not. She could be wrong after all.
I like you!
The girl felt suddenly far too large, too obvious, too noticeable. She wanted to shrink back, to use her magic to hide in the earth. Or! Even better! To fly into the sky. Remorselessly she knew that Zekle couldn't follow her there. The open air would allow her to escape from the tentative snares of friendship that were being set all around her. The girl was sure that the reason that she felt so disconnected from everyone around her as intentional, surely something her Father had done. Hototo's care had gotten him killed, and similarly it was the bonds of friendship and love that likely allowed the Moon Goddess to so seamlessly interrupt and ruin so many lives. The girl was here to provide balance, not to be the savior of those around her. In fact, she didn't even care if she was seen at all. Perhaps that was one reason she was so hesitant to name herself. Nameless, she would be easily forgotten. Those around her could christen her with words of their choosing, but it would never be her, just some mental facsimile for them to hold onto.
But now he was speaking again, and the moment to flee was quickly passing. His question spurned an answer from her lips, that she almost didn't notice she was giving. Her brain it seemed was happy for the distraction.
"Her name is Kahlua ... and her mother was Krystal Nacht .. and before that was Kalea ... then Kalianna.." The girl remembered her mother citing this list only moments after she was born. She was pleased that she remembered all the names. "She said it was just something they had always done. I don't know ... that doesn't seem like a good enough reason to me. Tradition without justification is just ... just blind following." Had her mother heard her say such things, likely the words would have stung. To call her family traditions blind and to disregard them might have been taken as rude. But the girl couldn't help it. Just because would never be response that the girl accepted.
"Lightning is neat." She confirmed, her golden gaze fluttering along the haphazard strokes down Zekle's spine. His markings seemed ... seemed so simple and beautiful in way that her own did not. Her markings were spoiled and spilled blood, dripping off of a muddied coat. His were enigmatic, like a rorschach pattern; insightful and unspeakable.
The girl was about to shake her head as the boy implied that her own happiness had anything to do with her choosing a name, until a very real fear gripped her. He had gone farther than just giving her a name in his own mind (spirit. How ironic given their previous conversation), he had said they were friends. And unlike the asymmetrical relationship that Alysanne had described, wherein one could be friends with many, without needing the sentiment to be reciprocated, the boy had said that they were friends. Awkwardness fell over her, as her unblinking golden eyes simply starred. Customs that she didn't understand silenced her from saying that they weren't friends, but nothing told her what she ought to do instead.
"I'd like to find my name..And I'd like to figure out your magic too." She offered, throwing in a late smile at the end which felt floppy and forced on her death-masked face. It wasn't as though the girl didn't like the boy, she just ... she just felt nothing. As he highlighted the level of friendship that he believed they had already obtained, the girl felt woefully inadequate; severally lacking in several emotional areas. So she did the only thing she could think of - she glossed over the subject. Let him think that her acceptance of his offer did mean they were friends. It wasn't a lie, and this way she wouldn't have to fess up to her own inadequacies.
"I know a place where I like to go and think .. Have you been to the ocean before?"
I'LL BE YOUR NUMBER ONE WITH A BULLET a loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
Fortunately for the feelings of the buoyant boy, the girl's reluctance to confirm their friendship sailed over his head on gossamer wings. He was too pleased with her comment on lightning being cool, and on puzzling out her strange string of 'K'-named relatives (how odd, but he was learning that lots of people saw things in lots of different ways, even silly ways). Zèklè's focus was too much on the adventure of finding a name than the idea that others might find it problematic, how he threw friendship around like a discarded pair of pants. He didn't see her smile because his was too bright.
In short, the boy was still too young and self-involved to notice that his new friend's reluctance to bear her title.
The black and auburn face split into a radiant grin, and he shuffled eagerly in the underbrush- there was just too much excitement for him to keep it all still. She suggested they go to the ocean, and he immediately replied with youthful exuberance. "Yeah, I've been to the ocean lots!" He'd been born by an ocean, after all, and Ma liked to take him to the sandy shore, to tell him stories and fill his head with delight. Heck, the Throat was even an island now, surrounded by ocean!
He was practically a fish!
He tensed, ready to spring into motion, to lead them both to the distant sea, before a horrifying thought stopped him in his tracks. In the excitement of new friendship and their interesting conversation, poor Zèklè had forgotten that he was deeply, hopelessly lost.
Sunbeam eyes turned back to the girl, a sheepish smile on his boyish face. "Uh... maybe you should lead the way," Zèklè suggested, one hoof scuffing, embarrassed, at the inoffensive earth. "Jus' so, y'know, we go to the right place'n all."
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