"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.
03-11-2015, 03:56 PM (This post was last modified: 03-11-2015, 04:11 PM by Maren.)
M A R E N
My hands they were strangers lost in the night
They're waving around in the dusty light
I'm waiting in the wings while the trees undress
Cupping my ear to hear the wind confess
I am a ghost in the garden.
__________________________
The tigermare still remembered his words, like it was yesterday.
"Soon bridge will be gone. Throat will be an island. Throat will be safe. Pegasus can come and go - those in herd who cannot fly will have keys to magic bridge - "
When she closed her eyes she could still see how Gaucho's gaze sharply turned to her, with eyes she then had started to trust. She had been naive, had highlighted the wrong words and asked the wrong questions. She had asked the why and the wrong how.
But, looking back, if she had thought about her questions more carefully, would it have changed anything?
Maren had already found what a hypocrite she was, and hold no pride in it. Nevertheless, now of all times was the time to embrace it, for she had to prove a point today. With some thin branches pulled together behind her ears, she walked through the bushes, hooves sinking low in the sand of the dunes. She had already taken some more of these little trips from the bushy dunes to the beach opposite the Throat's island, carrying all the dry twigs she could find by either grabbing them between her teeth or letting her wings hold them steady behind her ears. It all resulted in that little bit of peck-sniffing she was guilty of; a pile of dried branches next to the entrance of the bridge, where they were currently starting to build the pillars. Ugly things, her thoughts spitted as she curled her neck to let the twigs roll from her head and fall upon her pile with a symphony. She peeked at it from the corner of her eyes, disgusted, (I am creating a monster) before looking further into the distance to what lay past the water.
Even though her religious duties did not call her back often (as her people liked to roam through all of Helovia), or was there anyone special waiting for her, she still... Somehow... missed the desert; with its unpredictable winds, stormy grains and pressing warmth. It had its personality, like she had hers. And now that she had been away from it for a week, she had realized that she had missed the place; she missed the place that she had thoughtlessly started to call home. A place where her heart kept whispering that this was where she was meant to be. For she had gone to distance to eventually find her way. [<- totally no Hercules ref.] Only now she knew and understood that every step had been meaning to lead to here... Right... There.
Maren's eyeballs lay shadowed under a hood of a deep frown, a layer of silence covering her eyes. Fresh sea wind brushed through her long, ivory mane as she looked how the dark waves rolled upon the shore, and the Island of the Throat slept in the peaceful pillow of the evening mist. She imagined how the diviner's fire would flame now, flaring its holy light against the darkening skies of the falling night. Imagined how her own fire would start licking the mist shortly now, too. She watched how the last minutes of day painted the horizon red, reflected in the mighty puddle that withhold her from going where her heart was sighing her to go.
Maren bit her tongue, fighting the burning anger.
Her insides screamed with fury.
Gaucho had known. He had known, for she had told him specifically how she disliked fire. She had literally told him how she would not be able to have flames on her bodylike him, for she would not be able to bear it.
Why, Gaucho, after all the words I trusted you with – Or did you just not listen?
For the least he could have done was to tell her. Tell her about it directly after she had told him about her hate for fire: Tell her that the bridge to cross the puddle would consist of a pair of flaming wings. There had been an opportunity, there had been time. But instead he had decided to just ignore it, had cared more about the freaking, 'apparently' abnormal – but way more interesting – wings behind her ears than that one little problem that would soon enough appear before the hooves of that unknowing mare.
But as was often the case, her anger was also fueled by fear. Her fear of losing the home she had only just realized she found. She was afraid, for she knew she was also being arrogant and selfish. For, in the week it had been set into work, no one else seemed to have problems with it – yet, taking into account those also troubled by the bridge could still appear.
Of all the thoughts that got added to her mind's chaotic disaster – one of the many that made her feel like shit, stood out boldly.
I am selfish.
But still, she stood here on the beach opposite the place she wanted to be; there. Portraying one lonely soul, protesting against a magic bridge that already was.
Darkness had almost fallen completely and the dry twigs in her fire-pit were ready to be lit with a fire she did not have. But Maren had not forgotten. She had not forgotten the way Gaucho had forgotten her.
@[Gaucho], or with permission <3 || Notes: ; - ; || Wordcount: 870 || "talking" ||
There was never any darkness for Gaucho. Everywhere he want, even in the pitch of night, was bathed in a warm glow. The fire from his wings spanned all around him, always. The glow from the symbols on his antlers constantly warmed his dark features into something that often appeared more gentle. For some, this might seem like a burden. To always be in a spotlight, to never be able to disappear into the background. But not for Gaucho. Gaucho had never been a creature to shrink from his responsibilities, or to feel the weight of prying eyes around him. Indeed, even during his quest from the Sun God and the aftermath of the Moon Goddess' evil doings, Gaucho had not hid. He had brazenly met those who had accused him of wrong doing. He had never shied away.
And so, even had Gaucho known how furious Maren currently was with him, he would have come to her just the same.
Gliding down from a darkening sky, the Wildfire descended. His stoic and stormy gaze fixated upon the tiger-striped mare who had so keenly held his interest weeks before. He liked the way Maren spoke her mind, how her thoughts and opinions were never coloured by his title. Few dared to raise their voices to him, or challenge his decisions, but Maren seemed to have no problem with it. He wasn't sure if it was just naive stupidity on her part, or if under her meek appearance there was something stronger, but he preferred to think it was the latter. As he neared her, his eyes raced over her body and he allowed himself a moment to think of what it would be like to spar her. To feel her body pressed tightly against his own, and to feel the racing of her heart.
"Maren." He greeted, butchering her name as always. For Gaucho, even simple names were difficult to pronounce, much less the sophisticated rolling sound that accompanied her own title. Mah-ren. It was as close as he could come.
At his side, Vorsa trilled a happy hello as she flew towards the ground. Her bright gaze investigated Maren's pile of sticks, and she immediately began to try and find things to add the pile. There wasn't much around that Maren hadn't already grabbed, but still she tried. Of course she had no idea what the purpose of the pile was - nor did Gaucho, although he did cast a skeptical gaze towards it.
"What are doing out here?" The dun questioned, cocking an ear around but hearing nothing. It didn't seem there were others here. Had Maren come all this way just to think? Or was she about to use her key - to race across the ocean on magical wings? He would accompany her if that was the case, although he didn't need to use his key to do so. He already had wings of fire, he didn't need the ones that the Sun God had blessed the rest of his herd with. The thought didn't even cross his mind that the fire aspect might have deterred her in anyway, or even angered her.
03-28-2015, 04:28 PM (This post was last modified: 03-28-2015, 05:06 PM by Maren.)
M A R E N
My hands they were strangers lost in the night
They're waving around in the dusty light
I'm waiting in the wings while the trees undress
Cupping my ear to hear the wind confess
I am a ghost in the garden.
__________________________
Mists of grey clouded her vision, the island laying like a strange, black silhouette in the far. The mare blinked, like she had done once every minute or so; one of the few movements her body had went through while standing in this cooling, Arabian night. A night she felt strange in, alone. Simply waiting for his presence. Her wings had brought her comfort by wrapping their feathered hands around her face, like ear-warmers – but slightly different. Now that Night had thrown its blanket over the lands, a halo had silently appeared above her head, had grown stronger ever since the sun had gone down. But she wasn't aware, for she was so used to it now. There were other things that clogged her mind. The tigermare might have had overlooked the fact that temperatures would drop, and that the bitter bite of the sea winds would grow, tickling her skin with its needles while cold crept into her bones. The fury that raged within, being an illusion, could not keep her warm. At some point she closed her eyes, thinking that if she would just take a quick nap, the cold would not bug her as much. If he could just come... This could have been over so quickly, after all. But alas, faith has decided otherwise. So two wide open, golden observers kept staring into the grays of the night –Until something that looked more like a meteorite than a horse broke the colorsheme. Maren watched as Gaucho grew nearer, swimming through the sky like pegasi did. But in style. Slowly the blessed creature descended from the sky, flames licking the air he had cut.
Her Sultan's stormy blue gaze found hers, the light of her halo mixing with the reflections of his fire. He spoke her name – or gave it a good try, she decided, as his overthrowing muscular body worked as both a windshield and a heater, which she keenly welcomed. "Gaucho." The mythical chick-on-fire began hopping around, Maren following her from the corners of her eyes. It added tiny twigs to the hill of branches, adorable. From somewhere came the need to smile, but she didn't. Couldn't, and that made her heart ache. Desurated clouds came from her nose as she looked at her company. The pile in the sand; the only thing that stood between the two of them. Something in the back of her mind casually noted that it was kind of awkward that the only thing what was suppose to be lighting up the night, should have been the fire-pit – but instead it was two horses and a chicken.
"What are doing out here?"
She wanted to correct him; What are you doing out here. But that would show how frustrated she was, because she rarely cared about trivial stuff like that – not that he knew her that good. Then she saw his ear searching for sounds, but the tigermare did not say: Yes, I am alone, which she did not know why not. Maybe because the tigermare secretly hoped that she wasn't the only selfish soul on this beach. Caring, an achor, steady – why can't I be those things? And then again; maybe she preferred it this lonesome way, for only Gaucho would be the one present to hear her egoistic words. But there were no words yet. Only silence, as she had moved her gaze from the Wildfire, and into the mists where the black silhouette was.
Then, finally soft-spoken words managed to squeeze themselves from between her stiffened lips. From the cold. “What do you think I am doing out here?” The tigermare spoke, for she sincerely wondered if he was already aware of Maren's intend – If standing on this deserted beach, near the bridge to the Throat, with a bunch of thrown-on-a-pile twigs still meant anything in that Sultan's blue eyes. Or perhaps her nice tones threw him off, she didn't know. Maren swallowed a lump of air as her golden eyes had found those again. Has my Sultan's mind already exposed my selfishness? Nevertheless, the pale purples of her eyes did not speak.
“Do you remember our first conversation?” Her slightly hurt voice barely overruled the piercing wind, which was not even that loud, but in the depths of her words there lay a deeper tone; something not fitting with who she wanted to be, but rather who she was.
Why did you not tell me when you could?
Did you really just not listen?
– Or did you simply forget?
Then, nodding at the pile; “Could you light that for me, please?” the mare asked, which was actually a mere whisper accompanied by a cloud of damp, but making it sound like a sidestep. But then she fell silent, found his eyes with those golden flames that were hers. As silent as the fuse of a bomb before it all came falling down, because that was how her anger worked.
As he stared into her multi-coloured eyes, Gaucho realized something. There was a light coming from her. His stormy gaze rose over the highlighted hills and valleys of her face, to the halo which crested above her wings. How had he never noticed it? When the two had been together before it hadn't been night time ... perhaps the light was so faint that it was merely lost in the high noon sun that had been over them? That was plausible enough, but it didn't resonate with Gaucho. Starring at her, watching the way the light gently cascaded and rippled down her features, Gaucho fought to place whatever it was that made him blind to this new addition.
Then he realized.
It was because it suited her so perfectly. When he had landed the halo had been there, had it not? Perhaps the reason he had never taken notice was because it already seemed a part of her, even though she was displaying it for the first time (at least to him). The Wildfire's deep sea-blue gaze lowered back down to try and seek out her own. Never one for compliments, he kept silent about her halo, yet the awe and intrigue on his face spoke volumes about his thoughts. When the two had first met he had thought Maren an untimely and odd beauty. That feeling was only further magnified by the halo.
Her question snapped his mind out of his reverie, and he considered her words. "Maren like the sea? Like the dark?" He humored her, but in truth Gaucho didn't like guessing games. He asked her why she was out here - it was not rhetorical, and it was not an invitation to be coy. Still, Gaucho valued Maren's opinion and her quick tongue and snappy words, so he let it pass.
Gaucho detected nothing amiss in Maren's tone, did not sense the hurt or anything else her question might have been laced with. Instead, his mind tried to relive the conversation to see if there was some promise he had failed to follow up on, or some insult that had gone un-answered for. But he couldn't find anything. They had spoken of ... of the bridge and blowing it up with enemies upon it. That was the most vivid aspect of the conversation, other than the discussion of Maren's wings.
Wings? Was that it?
"We talk about Bridge and Maren's wings ... " Confused, Gaucho wondered if her question was alluding to the use of the bridge? Perhaps she didn't know how to use her key? "All need to do to active bridge is -" Moving towards where soon a mighty pillar would be, Gaucho moved his left flank. It was at the base of his wing where his own key was hidden, and as soon as it was near enough, the bridge burst to life. It radiated with a magnitude of reds and yellows, burning brightly but without heat. A glorious wave of light. "Then just go forward - bridge gives you wings to fly over."
Catching her final question, Gaucho looks down at the pile of twigs and shrugged. Obviously not understand her plan (not that fire could burn the magical bridge anyways), Gaucho nodded. "Vorsa do it." At the sound of her name, Vorsa jumped to attention and trilled happily. Rarely was she asked to practice her ability - likely because it was still so spotty, but she was more than happy to try. Concentrating, the phoenix chick hopped to the top of the pile and closed her eyes. Opening her wings, she began flapping them, as if trying to create to force the fire into being. After only a handful of seconds, her body burst into flames. Trilling happily she paused, allowing the flames on her wings to ignite the sticks beneath her. Of course she wasn't harmed by the heat, and even appeared to enjoy it. After a moment as her own body stopped being on fire, she hopped back down to the sands and looked up at the two equines, a clear smile on her avian features.
My hands they were strangers lost in the night
They're waving around in the dusty light
I'm waiting in the wings while the trees undress
Cupping my ear to hear the wind confess
I am a ghost in the garden.
__________________________
If you had really looked you would've already seen.
If you had really listened you would've already understood.
...Maren did listen to the words he spoke, the thoughts that he projected from his ascended mouth - even though it was nothing but shitty nonsense to her. Her frown deepened and her gaze followed the sea which foam brushed over the sands, and her eyes locked themselves there; endlessly looking at the matt and sparkling grains with troubled bearings, the closures of her lips forging deep endings of a thin line. The Ascended spoke some more - and she still listened - finally seeming to have remembered their conversation - and her hopes for an easy ending flared. Maren's eyes, which lay filled with anticipation, shot at his when he called 'bridge'. For that purified moment her pained frown had disappeared, but then: "...and Maren's wings ..." The moment of hope had past like a ghost that never was.
"Tssk...", she hissed softly, embracing her frown and accepting the biting anger as her muscles tensed. But what or who was really falling short? Was it her manner of adapting, or was it his consideration? She had no clue anymore, only knew about the biting and nagging of the feelings inside her, picking at her soul and made it swell. But she still hold her tongue - was still hesitating. It was not enough, for the feeling of betrayal lingered underneath the surface of the frozen lake that covered the marble floors of her mind, reflecting the dark ceiling.
Gaucho moved his brightly flaming wings to the place where some idiotic pillars were to be constructed sometime soon, to show her how the key worked - for his mind had conceived that the mare was incapable of using the simple item. What were his thoughts, really? Somehow his failed understanding made her feel lonely and stupid. She peeked once at him before she childishly turned away her pearl-white head to the dark-blue shaded part of the beach, for she did not want to watch. Stillness lay in her field of vision, stillness and maybe peace. She blinked, finding her throat getting cramped and her teeth crushed. She heard him, his words claiming her ears while her feathered hand lay silently wrapped around her head. But she didn't want to anymore.
The bridge had inflamed - as had the fire-pit, she noticed, as their light flickered and reflected in a natural rhytm against the sand in the corners of her eyes. Cold sea wind prickled and punctured her averted cheek, raffled her ivory feathers while damp left her nostrils. Yes, wings. Then, with the speed only rage could facilitate she turned her head to Gaucho, her Sultan.
"Wings - Wings of FIRE..." the tigermare spat, hissing dangerously like a snake with words of disgust and fury, as if her words were flames themselves. Moving her trembling body to face Gaucho, she drilled her burgundy shaded eyes in his, dripping of fear. "You couldn't even TELL me then?" It was almost a plea, for her words echoed her hopelessness, anger and confusion. Why wouldn't he have told me? She tried to swallow her hopelessness, but it was just another pathetic attempt. For a moment she didn't know what to say to him, even though she had all the words scrambled together in a pile in her head, ready to be randomly picked. But she picked silence, so for that moment she just looked at Gaucho, eyes of chaos - and trying to say words - but unable to do speech when she attempted to breath them out; failing while the warm fire crackled, searching for the coziness it would not get. There was nothing but coldness in this fiery, lit up night. Her outlandish tongue had not changed its tone, did still carry rage mixed with confusion... and a question of why twisted in between it all. "No one brags about their fears, Gaucho, no one brags about what caused them", for there was only pain there, in those memories they marked. "...And yet I told you mine." She looked at Gaucho, not feeling any better then when she hadn't said words of pretense of all knowing. Her hatred did not even completely lay with her Sultan; for it was, after all, not even him she was fighting; Just herself and her fears and she took him with her in all the chaos and disarray she felt.
"YOU COULDN'T EVEN TELL ME?" The muscles in her jaw had tightened, feathers clinging to her slightly trembling skin, the hot and cold lingering in her body.
She didn't stop there. "I understand, Gaucho. You are the warrior, the King that wishes to fulfill his holy duty of protecting his people. But realize that you are as much protecting, as you are casting out that what could be of value, too." It was the most selfish thing she had ever said. Felt like she was trying to put a sword through his heart by first letting it go through hers. For she would lose more than just her temper if she let go of more poetry calling upon distrust. But it had washed over her all at once, flooded the little sanity she had left as a chill, like death splashed in her face. Fear ruled her imagination and struck down the sense of her brain as she could not do anything other than to burn it down to anger. Even when that would mean that she would echo in his mind as that mare that knew all and feared all forever. For flames were his world, and how could she ever explain it to those born and deified in them? She just needed the light... Just the light, and she would be happy.
And to be honest, she did not even rage upon Gaucho in order to get him to find a solution for her. No, she was a full-grown mare and she would figure that out eventually herself - perhaps even if she wasn't fully aware of that. The tigermare merely sought his understanding, had a desperate need to know that she could trust him like she had never trusted another. Wanted him to know that she was here and that she had this problem. For even now, he was her Sultan. And if Gaucho had already forgotten about her, how would he ever be able to remind himself of her again?
I just want to go home."You fucking locked me out.", her voice trembled. For she was, even now, sure he had known. For her mind could not understand how he hadn't. And he hadn't forgotten. And he had simply been incapable of seeing into the shadows now that the Sun had put him in his ascended Sunlit throne. "... Or will you ask me to pretend that my fears do simply not exist?"
She took a deep breath. "...Will you ask me to adjust?"
Oh right. She didn't like fire. It was all coming back to him now...
Sometimes it was difficult being Gaucho. It wasn't as though he was immune to feelings, or completely ignorant of them. He had simply been conditioned to deal with them in a different way than the majority of Helovian's had. Rarely did Gaucho feel the need to talk about the things that bothered him - and if he did, it was only to find an adequate solution. He had been told in the past that often when members of his herd voiced concerns to him, all they really wanted was a reassuring ear to hear them out. Rarely were they looking for solutions or commentary on their lives. They just needed to get things out, and move on. It was so backwards to the way he was raised, and it constantly made him appear immovable and oafish.
His dark eyes and expression remained neutral, even as Maren's voice rose and her body positioning became increasingly hostile. The Wildfire was not intimidated by the petite mare, but it was not merely a lack of physical concern that made him appear so calm. If Maren were to strike him, so be it. He doubted she could do much damage, at least not before he could restrain her. Besides, as the words bled from her lips, he wondered if it wasn't doing her some good. Obviously there was much on her mind, and while part of him would have been happier to spar with her and extinguish her anger that way, he was fine with yelling too.
Remaining silent until he was sure that she had finished, the dun regarded her for a moment, losing himself in the brilliance of her gaze and the quaintness of her appearance.
"Gaucho not lock Maren out." He began, his voice rich and melodic as the resonant tones spilled out of his dark lips. "Maren's mind lock Maren out." Gaucho was fine taking her yelling, but he would not take her blame. At least not when it wasn't his own to bear. That she had fears was one thing, that she expected him to be respectful of those fears was another. Perhaps she was right, and he should have offered the information to her during their previous conversation. But she was a new member of their herd, and he their Sultan. He owed nothing to her, not then. And now that she was an accomplished member of their family? His family? Had his obligations to her grown? The answer was yes, but not in this. Gaucho's only obligation to the tiger-mare was to forge the best Maren that he could, out of the self-doubting and rather loud creature before him. As he had told her - it was her own mind who deserved her angry words, not him.
"Gaucho not ask you to forget or adjust. Gaucho ask you to be strong." Gaucho's dark gaze tried to find Maren's, to show her without words that he was being sincere - he wasn't trying to diminish what she had said, or simply sweep it under the rug. "Gaucho think Maren's fear is real, but that not mean that it is okay. Maren come here from far away. Far away is where Maren's fear began, and you bring it with you across all these miles. You bring it with you to new family and new life. You hold it close and yell at Gaucho because of your fear. Maren can not let fear control her, cannot let fear into your soul."
For Gaucho who had been afraid of very little in his long life, such was a difficult conversation to have. Overcoming that which made him afraid had always come easily, and he had met it head on. That someone would shy away from something which made them so obviously weak was almost nonsensical to him, and yet he knew that Maren was no idiot. Still, he did think there was a good amount of self-deception going on. Maren was not facing her fears, and Gaucho thought that subconsciously she was telling herself that was alright. As if having a healthy fear of fire was nothing to be ashamed of. But couldn't she see just how irrational it was making her? That she thought somehow her worries - whose foundations she still hadn't told Gaucho about - should somehow trump the safety of his herd?
"Gaucho want Maren to be strong, but Gaucho know that that takes time. Gaucho not expect this to go away over night. Maren can want to make sure ho one is harmed because of fire, Maren can even fire-proof church, Gaucho not care. But Maren cannot let fear of fire control her. Besides-" Stepping forward, Gaucho stretched a wing over the magical bridge. His already burning wings suddenly blazed even brighter as magic took hold of his feathers. Waving it back and forth, he looked back to Maren impassively. "This fire not even hot. This fire gives Maren wings to fly. Is a gift from our God." Even if you are afraid of fire, you shouldn't be afraid of this fire, he wanted to say.
04-20-2015, 02:46 PM (This post was last modified: 04-20-2015, 04:12 PM by Maren.)
M A R E N
My hands they were strangers lost in the night
They're waving around in the dusty light
I'm waiting in the wings while the trees undress
Cupping my ear to hear the wind confess
I am a ghost in the garden.
__________________________
Is it too hard to spit out, then; sorry?
What was she searching for, anyway. The warmth of her Sultan’s soul? How could he be, when he had just told her that even his fires were cold.
She glanced at him while he threw back words… Words which she had expected to come, perhaps, but had not wanted to hear. What had she been betting on to happen, really, in what untrustworthy machine had she put in her faith, this time? Why did she even bother; relying if her trust got swung over shoulders like old backpacks, instead of being hold close and buried in the soul like a secret. Even in this family under the Sun, they were still all just individuals, failing to understand another’s mind and need - Not caring and unable to find sympathy for those who just needed a few words of kindness in a troubled time. She had not asked for him to ease her problems, nor had she asked for the awkwardness of a hug. But one soft spoken sorry would just have been nice to hear.
Instead he just told her to basically get her fucking mind straight.
To perfect the fuck up.
Maren stared at him with a face that reflected less and less understanding of his words. We can put up such believable charades, but in the end we are all just hypocrites, spreading only the songs that will be listened to - until that beautiful song gets interrupted. Her mouth had fallen open slightly, words in her head swirling and dancing, but this time she did not let them out. For it would be to much and he would definitely rip her from her Sun-warmed sands - Or maybe he wouldn't. But trusting in his acceptance and good…? No, not again. It was already spilled.
Instead, his words echoed in her mind. ”Maren come here from far away. Far away is where Maren's fear began, and you bring it with you across all these miles. You bring it with you to new family and new life. You hold it close and yell at Gaucho because of your fear.” She had grown to feel accepted by him, as they seemed to have enjoyed their last talk. But perhaps that was something she had just imagined, too. “Do you think I like to be afraid? Do you think I am not trying to fix my own”, fucking“Problems?” The world was not her kingdom. She had already adjusted - long ago. But some wounds took more time to heal. So if he told her to get over herself... She, worshiper of the Gods and slave of her own mind - She, not trying to overcome obstacles that stood in her way of learning about life and that what surrounded it? Is he trying to make me laugh?
She swallowed the hollow lump in her throat as her eyes wandered off to stare into the fire, not sure what to look for while the presence of the Descendant made the air around her so heavy. The fire reflected against the gold in her eyes. Somewhere she understood his straightforward understandings, as he was a straightforward man. But as both a religious and a scholar, it was sometimes hard to separate the two when feelings so strong flared from her insides. She let out a cloudless sigh as she tried to relax her trembling skin. Again her gaze turned upwards, saw the fire-burning figure of the sun-touched stallion through the smokescreen and heat waves rising from the fire.
“I am holding this silent protest because I am the Disciple of the Sun, and because that makes me one of the only two candidates to have this conversation with you, as we should be able to speak the same language when it comes to our faith…”, her eyes lingered up as her neck had lowered, even though he was already so tall. She did not want to fight him over a mutual God. “Unless you don’t take my faith in the Sun seriously - If you see my position as the Lord’s follower as a joke?” Two days ago that would have been her weak point, would have her caught in casual desperation, unknowing. Then she had still been confused by the direction the Oak had pointed her, had still been stupidly seeking truth. But even such unknowings would not have been able to drive her this far, for at some point she would’ve found her way. Now the only reason she wanted to go home was because she knew she belonged there - because of the Patron she needed, and she would do everything for him, for He was the ultimate. “It’s true that I am speaking on my own behalf now, but do you really think the fear of fire is rare?” She had softened the rough edges of her tone now that she saw that all the emotions she had let herself leak simply reflected back from his feel-repelling chest. There was no use making this about her any longer, for he just didn't care. But her eyes still reflected the still smoldering fury she felt, for a fire never just went out. “Don’t you believe me when I say there will be more to come? More new arrivals that will find themselves promptly forced to face their fear, every time they come and leave their new home? Is fear what you want your home to represent? Or will you let them walk away, discriminate against those who are the weak, the unovercoming in your eyes?” Would he reject them their homes the same way the Basin had done?
But along with the smoke she could smell herself losing this battle, as she might as well been talking to the bridge itself. Maybe, if the Sun really did resided in the illusionary, cold flames, he would turn the bridge into something else. A rainbow, perhaps. But the boats that sailed the waters of her Sultan’s mind seemed to chase one route, and one route alone. Even though there were so many more to be explored. “I believe that... the God of the Sun is not just bold, vividly shining fire, is not only some to be seen burning on the charcoals of the earth from even afar. For me he is also light and life, casual warmth and health just as much - if not more.” She looked at the soft mists that had been started to build up around her hooves as the warmth of the fire that burned within her vaporized that of water to damp. “For me He is also in the shadows.”
04-29-2015, 10:09 AM (This post was last modified: 04-29-2015, 10:35 AM by Gaucho.)
Her words were almost too poetic - the strange lilt of her voice almost too melodic to follow. Gaucho's mind was a simple one, and for all of the verbal obstacles he had overcome since coming to Helovia, he still felt stunted in the presence of one who could speak as eloquently as Maren. But the Wildfire did not falter, nor did he back away. His mind reeled as she spoke, trying diligently to place and retain her words. In his antlers, Mara assisted with this as best as she could - but even for the serpent, Maren's accent was a little difficult. Still, the pair did well enough.
"No, Gaucho not think Maren like to be afraid. " His lips closed for a moment, sure that whatever came out of his mouth next was sure to get him into further trouble with the tiger-mare. Still, he held his convictions. "Gaucho see Maren finding bandaids. Not solutions. Maren yell at Gaucho and blame him, even when Maren know that this fire won't hurt you. Maren watch Sun God make bridge - Maren watch others use bridge. Fear of fire is one thing - fear of this fire is ..." He wanted to say silly, because it was. Irrational would have even fit. Maren had found every excuse in the book to avoid this one type of fire, when her fear was founded in something else. She was afraid of fire that burned and could destroy. This fire was a gift - one that she knew was harmless. Being afraid of something that had no potential to hurt or destroy was silly. But as his hardened gaze found hers, he found that he couldn't diminish her fear that way. Or at least not when she looked at him the way she did. So, he let his words trail off and shrugged.
"No, not a joke." He agreed, as she continued to berate him with her words. "The bridge is a test." Now it was time for her to learn some history. "Sun God make this land ... but long time ago, when Throat was ruled by others, Sun God was not respected. He was tolerated, but fealty to him could come and go. When Gaucho take power, that change. Gaucho make Sun God part of everyone's life, make them recognize that it was Sun God who give us this land, give us our magic, and our life. No more could Sun God be ignored. So, if anyone want to come live here, they must be faithful to Sun God. All devotion requires a leap of faith - to trust and believe. How is bridge a test? Bridge shows that trust. Trust that fire wings won't burn and won't drop you into the ocean. That what is invisible or appears harmful will not harm, and will keep you safe. Gaucho has trained warriors - Gaucho can train bodies that are weak. What Gaucho cannot train are minds and souls that are weak. Bridge show Gaucho which those are."
Gaucho's nostrils flared as vapor began to pool and swarm around Maren's legs. Was this magic? Or just some odd localized weather? Had she always had this ability? Given that he didn't know about her halo, the Wildfire decided there was likely much he didn't know about the oddly-painted mare. Though given the tone of their conversation, he wasn't sure he would have the chance to find out.
"Gaucho not punish those who are afraid. Gaucho know about fear, and know that it takes time to overcome. But-" Now his gaze flickered back to her, searching for her eyes and trying to hold them with his own. "-must be willing to try. Gaucho help with fear, but Gaucho can't erase it alone." It was ambiguous as to whether Gaucho was speaking specifically of Maren now, or of everyone in general. Regardless, his gaze was earnest and soft as he looked down at the mare complaining of fire, while she stood next to a burning pile of twigs, a magical bridge, and her Sultan who was constantly on fire.
[SHIT DOES MAREN EVEN HAVE HER BOAT RIGHT NOW. IF NOT, JUST IGNORE THAT PART LOLOLOL dammit]
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