"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.
Blood. The queen (or was it to be Czarina now?) had to escape it. The day of the battle had passed, those injured healed, those conquered (it made her sick to even think this word) allowed to stay or go as they pleased, but there was one thing that would not be washed away. All along the border of the Falls, where the queen had reluctantly forced herself to enter the battlefield, blood was spattered across the greenery, a sickening reminder of what had taken place. She was not sorry she had been asked to remain as acting lead of the Edge until new leaders could be chosen. She was even less sorry when it was finally time for her to return to the draconian forest to help with the process.
A deep breath filled the Sunshower’s chest when she finally saw the shattered glass wall that still remained along the border. A prison shattered, some sections standing but most ruined… but then, if it were really a prison, perhaps it would have contained the Lady Moon better, prevented her from causing such death and destruction and prevented her from setting these wheels into motion. The invasion would not have happened, Kahlua’s gentle soul would not have had a new rift torn into it, and Kahlua would not be left feeling so nauseous.
The Edge had been victorious but the queen could not feel anything but disgust at what they had done.
Trying to rid herself from thoughts of the invasion, the queen instead focused on the task at hand. She had sent out any well-rested soldiers that were willing to spread the message throughout Helovia: there would be a tournament of sorts for the new leaders at the Edge and any who were interested should gather. If the soldiers had done their job, then Helovia’s denizens would be ready to gather today. Despite the fact that she only wanted to wallow in her sorrows, she had to put on a smiling face.
Stepping just beyond the glass border, where the doorway to her home had once been, the queen turned out and looked back, smiling as the first new faces began to arrive, the Basin diplomats among them. In some ways, seeing them come made it easier for her to forget the destruction she had left back in the Falls. “Hello, my friends,” she called to them. For any who cared to listen, they would hear the pain in her voice. The queen could not hide her feelings and she would not try. She would not act happy about causing chaos. “Explain to us why you’ve come to this meeting. What makes you want to be a leader of the Edge? What makes you think you can bear the weight that comes with such responsibility?”
As Khan settled upon her back, eyes searching gleefully for Tinek (the gravity of this situation mattered little to his young mind), Kahlua looked to Ophelia. She liked the mare and hoped that she could borrow some strength from the white and crimson mare. Besides, she was sure the Basin Lady would have something else to add.
OOC| Edge NPCs were sent across Helovia to announce the tournament, giving your character IC knowledge of the time and place of this meeting.
Please wait for Ophelia to post first. This thread takes place during the morning, a few days after the invasion.
The Edge and Basin will be selecting two new leads for the Edge territory- one diplomatic type and one warrior type. Please make an OOC note in your thread whether your character would be a diplomatic or warrior type.
You have 5 days to post to this thread to be considered for the position of Edge King or Queen. Another thread/task will follow this one.
Ophelia had briefly returned to her home in the Aurora Basin, watching the moon wax and wane overhead. She was not entirely sure why they wanted her to assist in the choosing of the new World’s Edge leader, but she would do so. Was this their way of paying the Basin back? Letting them choose who was to rule the Moon God’s herd? If so, the gesture was kind, but neither she nor Deimos cared much for the forests, and he had more reason than she to give a damn. Regardless, she was good for her word, and a few days later, she traversed the snowy planes of the Steppe down into the forested mainland of Helovia.
Cloven hooves traversed the edge of the forest, unperturbed by the Moon Goddess’ residence. Though she felt anger and pain at the loss of her friends, there was little she could do. If her time was to come, dying at a god’s whim was as good as any other way, she imagined. Ophelia’s blood-dripped coat had wholly faded back to white, the pristine white unmarred by the droplets of burnt crimson that rained on her during the invasion. She had stood there, foolishly waiting for an opponent, but the battle for the Falls had been as poorly contested as the battle for the Foothills. The land was cursed; had to be.
A few, gentle-hearted souls felt mournful over the battle, and to them, she had only a sigh. Having faced similar demons, she discovered that she would not kill or stealth for monetary gain but for family. Your family was all that mattered, and no one else would care as much as you. In fact, this war could have possibly been avoided had the Falls’ recognized their lack of a true regime and stepped aside. Certainly, they were admirable for fighting for home, but so were those of the World’s Edge who wanted to escape the tyranny of the Moon.
At the end of the day, those who deserved to live, won. Ophelia would not lose sleep over such trivial matters. She learned early in life that you cannot please everyone; you have to do what is right for yourself and those you love. Earlier she had imparted this wisdom to Kahlua, and she hoped that somewhere, those words stuck. However, as she ventured into the trees, deeper than she had been before, she heard a subtle waver to the paint’s tones, one for which Ophelia struggled to find compassion. The Queen had done what was right for her family, and though she could be sad for losses, she should be proud of her well-considered plan and victory.
The Lady of the Aurora Basin came to stand beside Kahlua, hoping to be strength when her blue eyes met Ophelia’s strange ones. Tinek soared overhead, eagerly spiraling down to meet the feathered dragon and taking to trees farther away so as not to disturb his bonded. The silver offered her a kind chirp through their bond, and she returned the gesture with a simple thought of a color – a neutral, happy green. “We are here to honor the victory of the World’s Edge in attaining a new home for their kin, but we respect the bonds of the past and look forward to forging a new future,” she said firmly.
“The Falls had long since denied the Aurora Basin our offer of friendship, and we know that the land of the Earth is now under wise and good leadership. Archibald, a dear friend, will protect the land firmly while Kahlua and Kaj bring both wisdom and compassion to its citizens. A functioning herd requires all of these – a missing component leaves a weakness. We hope to find such rulers to honor the Moon Goddess and unite Helovia for the first time in all the four corners.” Ophelia was not entirely sure if she believed what she was saying. Peace in Helovia was preposterous and about as possible as the ocean’s tide flowing in reverse. But, together, they could only try. Hopefully, Kahlua would feel the same way.
“So come forward and answer the Queen’s questions honestly.” I will know if you lie…
So pale turns the innocence and all I feel is pain
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.
04-19-2015, 11:39 AM (This post was last modified: 04-19-2015, 11:43 AM by Torleik.)
Torleik the Bloodskald
Every hope collapsing in is a vibrant white
They had won with pathetic ease. The fools in the Falls had barely even put up a fight - if their feeble attempts at defending their personal safety could be considered a fight. Invasion completed days ago, Torleik had remained near Ophelia as much as he could...but the realization that the woman he wanted being a leader meant she would always be out doing and gone a good deal of the time was truly beginning to solidify in his mind.
It...was a heavy thought, one that did not follow the high of his mushroom ingestion well, bringing him down to a nadir he hadn't intended. The two of them had been blessed with a single moment in the middle of the invasion, one beautiful weave in the tapestry of time where Torleik felt...perhaps Ophelia would or could return his love. The moment had been brief. Now, days later, he followed his leader and Lady once more, concerned that perhaps she might still be in danger.
A herd had just been overthrown. Surely they were angry. Sometimes the greatest retaliations came after the battles had been fought.
To find himself at a gathering for the selecting the new leaders of the World's Edge...this was unexpected. That was the Moon Goddess' land. A knot formed in his heart and his gazed rested heavy on the pale mare in front of him, for whom his heart normally swelled and burned bright. Would she hate him? Would she be angry with him?
Did it even matter if he was no longer in the Basin? They barely saw each other as it was - she was always off with...Gaucho, or others. Elsewhere. His seeing her in the snowcapped mountains was rare. And there was the matter of his deal with the lilac deity of the moon for the armor he had charged into battle with, that had been magically granted to him and remained with him always, ready to be used upon a whim or a summons. Kahlua had spoken and Torleik's audits heard Ophelia's words wash over him...and suddenly his limbs were carrying him forward.
This was not how he'd wanted this to be, but duty, fear and...perhaps hope, drove him.
"I came to see Ophelia safe," the Bloodskald began. "but it seems to me fate has ensured my attendance for another reason." His eyes flicked to the white and crimson mare's, then to Kahlua. Torleik had not forgotten how she screamed at him, distrustful and accusatory. If she had become a leader, he decided she must have overcome that tendency. "You wish a leader to honor the Moon Goddess...I have worshiped some form of her my entire life. I...owe her a debt. My service in her land would, I hope, please her."
His gaze remained on the roots of the ground now. He could not bear Ophelia's judgement in front of the crowd. "You desire peace. I am a man of war. Battle is where I find myself, and my comfort - but I do not relish it, and I would not make war unless there was a necessity. I am no gilded tongue to pour honeyed words in the ear, but I try to be reasonable and fair to all." The Bloodskald swallowed. "I will shoulder whatever burden I am given, because I must. That is my nature. If you should trust me enough with this position, I would perform the duties to my utmost. That is how I am. At the very least, I would strive to retain the peace brokered between the former Edge and the Basin - and now, the Falls."
Cautiously, his blue orbs lifted, seeking Ophelia's face. Please do not think less of me for what I've done...I would cast it all into the sea if you had need of me, his soul sang in a mournful dirge, praying that the decision he was trying to make here was a wise one. Torleik knew he had to do as he felt he must to protect what was most important to him. Perhaps, in this way...he could keep the one he loved out of the Moon's crosshairs.
But navigating such tricky canals and inlets of interpersonal politics had never been Torleik's focus in life. He felt lost and adrift as a ship without any wind to guide it home.
Would Ophelia be his guiding current? Would she be the anchor between them, refusing to let him drift too far?
The Bloodskald felt nauseated. She was a fragile thing in their fledgling affection, and it frightened him more than anything she would see this as abandonment. Gods help me I want nothing more than to be by your side...
But sometimes to grow together, you had to be apart.
He only hoped whatever came of this did not destroy all he had worked for. If it came to that, he would burn the world down. The powers and objects of this life meant nothing to him at the foot of her heart's throne.
@[Kahlua]
@[Ophelia]
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Torleik is having a mini existential crises, BUT he's doing what he thinks is best. He is offering himself as the warrior leader, since that's what he's good at.
Phi has permission to read his thoughts, and should - because I only included them considering I figure she'd be scouring the mind of anyone who offered themselves up, aannnddd they're gonna need to have a talk later. lol.
04-19-2015, 01:40 PM (This post was last modified: 04-19-2015, 01:40 PM by Artorius.)
Artorius
War had ravaged the lands, taking over the minds of everyone that resided in the three herds. The two attackers and the poor fools that had been targeted, blood stained the grass of the Falls a crimson red, from the whispers that had been going around during the great war most of the blood was that of the Falls members themselves. At least it seemed when they were removed from their home that the land would still have something of them, when the foliage grew back in Birdsong it would be healthy with the life of those that had been beaten to submission by the Dauntless and his army. Glossy harks smacked back against my skull as unmarked limbs carried my sleek frame through the mists I had grown so familiar with.
I had only just arrived in the Edge, let alone Helovia, about a season ago and I wasn't ready to leave the only place I had been able to call home just because the majority of my herd was going. If I knew my mother well enough, she was probably sick from the bloodshed and injuries, hopefully she and my sister would remain in the shattered wall of the Edge as well. Sighing, my body moved closer to the main gate where the gossips had said that Kahlua and the lead of the Basin would be meeting those interested in leading the new Edge. Likely I would be the youngest to show up to this little shindig and probably the newest to the world of Helovia as well, but something was calling me closer to the gathering where I expected a mass of bodies to be congregating.
A lump formed in my throat as I strode closer, large wings tucked in gracefully along my ribcage when my movement forward finally stopped. Harks flicked forwards as the Sunshower's melodic voice filled the salted air. “Explain to us why you’ve come to this meeting. What makes you want to be a leader of the Edge? What makes you think you can bear the weight that comes with such responsibility?” The pain laced through the paint's voice was a knife to the heart as I stood there in the mass of others that looked nearly as nerve wrecked as I felt. Emeralds rested momentarily on the once-Queen before the blood stained grey beside her spoke up, her words much stronger than Kahlua's. Once the ladies ceased speaking a bearded stallion stepped forward and offered his soul to the Edge, stating his loyalty to the Moon and mentioning a debt he had to pay. The lump growing in my throat was nearly unbearable as I took a few steps forward so the attention could shift to me rather than the mass of bodies I found myself standing in. Barnabas chripped happily from the join between my wings, sending a wave of peace and happiness through our mental bond that broke the lump down and took away the majority of the nervous energy so I could find my words.
"Since I have arrived at Helovia I have felt more at home than anywhere else. The lands of the Edge are where I am meant to be, the fact that our goddess is so frowned upon for her actions hurts my very soul. I would like to offer myself as an ambassador of sorts, someone who can help smooth over the scar left behind by the goddesses...slip up." Glossy feathers shifted as my weight swayed to another side and emeralds took a moment to flick between the two Queens who stood before me, my fate in their hands.
"Though I am young, I know that this burden of leadership would be one my shoulders could bear. The latter spoke of war but I believe we have seen enough bloodshed this season to last a while. Regardless of your decision I will remain in the Edge and continue my mission of bringing the Moon back to her former glory." Once my speech was finished Barnabas trilled happily, nestling back into my feathers for the continuation of his nap while I stepped back into the mix, curious as to what other offers the hopefuls would have to put on the table.
"Speech." Tag | @[Kahlua] @[Ophelia] Words | 707 Notes | Artorius has offered himself to be the Diplomatic leader, although he is young he desires to bring peace and the Moon back to her former glory.
No sooner had she arrived home was the Songbird off again, returning to the Edge after victories were met and foes vanquished. She dove into her role, her purpose, her finesse, into wondrous distraction, preferred a diversion to the grinding glimpses of her idiocy, of her ineptitudes, of her miring insecurities: arriving soon after Kahlua’s explanation, roaming her eyes over the cliffs, over the sea, over the fog, listening to the quandaries and intrigue lain before her. A portion of her yearned to go towards the Sunshower, express her sympathies, convey her sentiments (because she’d had no part in this war, but she understood all the others, the rise and fall of violence, the brooding upheaval, the sudden swing into vehemence and the murky attempts to get out of it), but there was no opportunity, so she merely listened to the junctures of pain, to the wallows of discomfort. Beneath the shambles of this strange sedition, the beatific Mender keened a few assuaging notes, the earnest, granted platitudes of gentle, harmonious arias springing into twirling leaves and desperate dew, fervently granting a healing, mending rapture and reverie to her friend. Thereafter, she only spun back into silence, a witness, a philosopher, a sage mind for the tacticians, for the diplomats, for the barbarians lining up and paying their respects to designs, ambitions, and dreams. The aftermath of war was nearly alluring in its creed: where rhyme and reason combined into machinations and calculations, where power and might swayed to leadership roles left empty and ambiguous. Her ears swiveled towards Ophelia and her piece, then grew slightly startled by Torleik’s appearance, his wishes, his desires, his intentions; wandering away from the Forsaken, away from the Basin, gesturing towards the hallowed pathways of the Moon Goddess and her empire. Was it his worship of the deity that prompted this, or something else altogether? Her gaze narrowed, then chimed back into hallowed vessels and effervescent splendor, folding into her hushed depths and proffering salutations in a contorted nod towards other candidates and their illustrious General. Another swiftly followed, and Lena played the composed minstrel, the singing ambassador, the calm consul and efficient emissary, while the legions of war strummed and played their final crescendos: more battles to be had, more skirmishes to be won.
[Lena on hand for assistance!]
her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love
04-19-2015, 09:22 PM (This post was last modified: 04-20-2015, 04:06 AM by Rostislav.)
I am not sure if it is sorrow or rage that propels me into the World's Edge. Still limping, still wounded, still mourning. The Hidden Falls, lost to the Edge. Midas, dead. Oxy, our very own Benedict Arnold. My stomach turns at the thoughts of what has transpired. A herd that I thought we were on good terms with, teaming up with our enemy, to take over perhaps one of the most well-meaning, innocent herds in Helovia. Clearly my mind has become stagnant and pure in the time I've been with the Falls, weakened to not have seen these events coming, to have thought that we would be safe while predators strode around us, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Damaris trails behind me with a heavy heart, feeling more sadness than anger. It is probably for the best, considering any more rage in my heart might send me over the edge. As is, my expression of my feelings is muted, to the point you might wonder that I'm feeling anything at all. Stoicism has become the name of the game. The next time I see a Basiner, or someone of the Edge - the original Edge - I'm not sure what I'll do. Yell? Scream? Cry? Or perhaps stare with accusing, wounded eyes. Not that anyone would be able to see past the white orbs into my soul. Unlike so many others, I do not have those particular windows. Finally I stumble upon a gathering, though it is absent of the wheeled platform like the last gathering I found. And for that I am incredibly grateful. I'm here because one of those living in the Edge came out to speak of the competition to become a leader of the Edge. To become a leader of the herd that just destroyed my home, my life, my friends? Why. The Fuck. Not. So I'm here, and I'm ready to see what is going on, who my competition is, and to see if I even stand a chance. I fought bravely for my home, I'm sure I am an underdog in this competition for the leadership.
Why have you come? Why do you want to lead the Edge? I clear my throat, surrounded by those that I might consider enemies, certainly none that I consider friends. I look straight at Kahlua, for the moment ignoring the others. My voice belies neither sincerity nor hatred. I do not even know what the feelings are behind my words. Surprisingly, there is no sarcasm, either. "Lady Kahlua, let me introduce myself. I am Rostislav, one who defended the herd that you and the rest of the Edge have successfully defeated. Congratulations on your hard work and impressive efforts." I bow my head to her. "Though I opposed you, I am interested in the future. Though I have not sought leadership in the past, I believe I am fully qualified to lead. I have been one of the two Legatus since the end of the Darkness, and have proven myself in battle. I have organized spars between the Falls warriors and been an aid to the King whenever he called upon me. I believe I could unite those in the Edge with a gentle but firm hand, as a fighting leader. Diplomacy has never been my strongest suit."
I glance at Ophelia, regarding her words carefully. Still, my voice is devoid of the emotion that swirls inside. I hurt, and Damaris next to me also hurts. The emotions we can take of later, when there's downtime. Right now needs to be about business. "I have worshipped the Earth God, this is true. I am open to all of the Gods and the Moon Goddess as well. Should she choose to treaty with me I would be more than happy to do her bidding. Though I believe in a strong force, I also strive for peace, and would be open to peaceful negotiations with other herds, with the assistance of a diplomatic partner."
There you go. The most words I've ever spoken at once.
We had fought hard, but just not hard enough. They had taken our home, and I have no idea where my beloved daughter is. Kerian had looked, and picked up her trail for a short time. But even that had faded out. It was as he returned that the news arrived. They were looking for new leaders for the Edge. Since I had fought as apart of the Qian to take the Edge oh so long ago now, maybe it was time to return. Let's go Keiran. We set off, together. Somehow, ever since I won him and he broke out of that egg and landed at my hooves it has been us. In a way, I think even till our deaths it will always be us. He is my protector and best friend all at once. He sees me in my broken state and makes me better. For him, I have been the same.
OrangeMoon has arrived in full force by the time we cross into the Edge. My wounds are healing, slowly. I probably should of sought medical attention after the battle was over.... But the feeling of my rank magic slipping away had been to much to bare. I move stiffly, as does Keiran. My emerald eyes looking for the place that I had been told the meeting would be held.
As we arrive, I am surprised to see several others already gathered. The one that surprises me the most is... Rosti. I step to his side, not that I belong there. But at the same time it is where I am most comfortable right now. I ignore all but him and the two mares at the front. The black and white mare spoke first, followed by the pale one marked with red. Both of them I had seen attacking the Falls before everything went dark. So they are looking for two leads and two leads only. Well, I have never really thought myself as much of a leader but at the same time I felt something edging me into speaking up. I waited as those ahead of me spoke including Rosti. Wouldn't it be interesting if we were picked together? I pushed the idea from my head as I sighed.
I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking hard on if I really wanted to try this. You would make a wonderful and compassionate leader my love. Keiran spoke softly into my mind. His words settled it. "I will follow suit to Rostislav here by introducing myself first. I am Kiara, former Earth Medic for the Falls, and also former member of the Qian that once called the Edge home." I stop for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves before going on. "I have learn a lot in in years since I arrived in Helovia. I have learned what it is like to fight for what you truly believe in, but also to protect those who you care about the most. I lived through the darkness that consumed all of our homes. I know the value of peace, and what it means to keep it." She stoped speaking, her gaze looking from Kahlua to Ophelia and back again. "To unite all four herds, would be one amazing project. One that if I am chosen as lead I would eagerly seek." I sigh as I finish speaking. I would hope that alliances would be secured with both the Falls and the Basin by default... But one could never know for sure. The Dragon's Throat might be one harder to secure. They had not even been a full ally when we were in the Falls... I could only hope that times had changed...
Please Tag Kiara in All Posts
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Kiara at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing her.
The unknown, unnamed sentry delivered his message, and Amaris heard it with keen ears. She knew this war was coming - had she not listened to Ghost speak with Gaucho about Midas and their Sleuth's disappearance? The girl knew what the whispers of war on the horizon sounded like, she had lived through one of her own, watched as her mother raised the alarm and sent her south with her uncle, who then had to fight on the sands of the Throat anyway, as war followed them south. Holding enemies hostage before the event was an offensive tact, a way to weaken your enemies so that you could stroll right into their home realm and make it your own without so much as a sneeze.
It did not leave a good taste in her mouth, this knowledge of war.
The girl understood the necessity for finding a home for the lost, the wandering. She understood the need for a group of outcasts, a band like the Qian and Grey had been, needing a home.
What she did not understand, was how they could turn their backs on a home they had shed so much blood for.
The Moon Goddess had possessed her leader, used his body to butcher and break the bodies and souls of others, as an example. What she had done was unspeakably cruel, yes, but she was a god, and despite it all - Amaris felt afraid for the repercussions of her abandonment.
The balance has shifted, she thought sadly, hurriedly, to her red spark of a companion. It has shifted, like it did when the Sun Lord torched the world, and it will take another great event to shift it back. She was flying, she didn't remember how she got into the skies, only that she was flying now, towards a land she would always know, and always call home. For it was her birthland, this forest of mists and fog, of wind and shadows. It was a land she could not help but know intimately.
It was a land she could not help but love, however dark and cruel its Goddess was.
The process of her landing and arriving was as boring as the process of her getting there - she was there, on time, ears pricked and mind keen, sharp for information on what was to become of these lands. The girl didn't quite realise she was entering on the scene that would decide who would lead the lands, who would be the one(s) to carry it forward, to prove to the world that they could live on despite the dark legacy the Moon Goddess had cast over them.
The dragonmare was not a girl any more, but a young lady, a woman grown. Curves were filling in upon her body, her golden scales shone with a brilliant glisten in the sun. With a pang of realisation, she wondered whether her mother would be here, taking the reigns of leadership once more, as she had before. But no - Mirage had come to her at the Throat, had explained all that happened in those wretched poisoned lands.. Somehow, Amaris felt the responsibility of the crown was to be shifted from her mother's care and onto another's this day - the question that remained, could it be hers?
Could it?
"I was born to these lands, these mists." Her voice was strong despite the doubt that tried to plague her. She was not a timid equine with dragon stains upon her - she was a queen of her draconic species, a royal creature who was now speaking in order to obtain her status across both shades of her hybrid blood. "I knew the shadows of the forest before I knew the kiss of sunlight upon my scales. I have come here today to know the outcome of the lands, to ensure they do not fall to disrepair because of the mistakes those with power have made in its name." Golden eyes looked, finally looked at the gathered, notably the painted form of Kahlua and the pale form of Ophelia. She knew them, she had met them both - the silver of Ophelia's was faintly familiar to her, from a time when she still sucked her mother's milk. But the young blue of Kahlua's was foreign, new, a hatchling. The girl breathed - normally she would extend a greeting to the dragons - but she was not speaking to the dragons and hoping for them to gift her with an entire realm.
So she simply made silent eye contact to them instead, and allowed her red companion to drop from the canopy above to join the winged ones. Its presence soothed her in ways she could not understand, but simply accept and carry on.
"My name is Amaris, and I hail from the Throat.
"I did not come here intending to contest for the leadership of the Edge. When the darkness poisoned the lands, and my mother went into them, I left Helovia with my father and sister. When I came back, I found Tandavi, my cousin, in the Throat, and I stayed with her, because she was all I thought I had left." She did not know why she was telling them all of this, why it was relevant. But something within her urged her on. "Tandavi has been sent to look for something dear to her that was lost at the time of the great darkness. I love the Throat - they are my family - but the Edge is my birthland, my home." She emphasised the words that needed it, she pleaded with the gold in her eyes and the honey in her voice.
She was an open book - Ophelia could search her mind all she liked, she would see that there was honesty lit by a fire as brilliant as the Sun within her, not shrouded by darkness and shadow like that within the mind of her mother. Amaris was playful and kind, loving and devoted - she was everything her mother was but with a dragon's strength to mark her hide.
"Because of what I am -" and here, the dragonmare shuffled her wings, opening them, letting the morning light glitter upon her scales, "- I have been forced to grow up faster than the years I have lived, to realise what life is." Nostrils twitched as air passed through them, a pause in the speech she had not expected to give. "If you see me as fit, I will stand as Queen of the Edge as my mother once did. I will aim to restore the balance, the equilibrium of the world that has been tilted by these cosmic events. I love the Dragon's Throat as I love the herd that once occupied the Edge, those who now occupy the Falls. The Basin, I could learn to love in time if given the opportunity - I ask you to let me help you unite us all under this common goal of peace."
As her words finished, the dragon companion that accompanied her sung a small song, a seraphic chorus of hope and optimism - the young queen bowed her head to the crowd, having imparted her words upon them. Desire, and hope, that she did not realise was within her, rose up, blossomed within her, until it consumed her. Even should she fail here, she would work towards what she had said - a balance, an equilibrium. The world needed it.
Permission granted to mindrape as needed.
Amaris is offered up as Diplomatic Lead.
To be frank, the purpose of this meeting was of no importance to him whatsoever. Kings, Queens, Gods... none of that held any meaning to the young stallion, nor did he find the appeals of the gathered horses to be very interesting. The only reason he was there to begin with was because of Amaris' sudden departure once the messenger had finished speaking. He had followed her out of curiosity, cantered in the shadow of her wings as the landscape flashed by, and when she landed he kept to her side like a shadow, quiet and observing with a lazy expression masking the growing contempt.
He knew none of the horses that gathered in the dark forest. Neither names nor ranks burdened him until they were revealed by the person in question, and so the equine was able to observe without bias, listen without preconceived notions. The things he heard... It was all enough to make him wish to roll his eyes. Wasn't all gods the same, in the end? Who cared which one they had to bow to in the end, the fact that one had to incline their head remained regardless. Fickle and cruel, warped by a never ending existence, such was the nature of all immortals - wasn't it better then to live beneath one everyone knew to be wicked? At least then one would never have to be disappointed once the pleasant mask fell from their faces, when their true nature was revealed.
As for the claims of these power-hungry no names, they all sounded the same to his ears. Pick me, pick me, I'm better than all the rest... Cathun had no such preconceived notion. He was young, inexperienced, and he knew it. Heck, every single one of the stallions present could surely bring him down, and quite a few of the mares as well. But the current state of things would only last for so long.
He was young but he would grow, he was inexperienced but he would learn. Provided that he actually wanted a throne...
"Rather than strength and wisdom, I'd say you need some fresh eyes and new ideas" Cathun said, after listening for a while with growing impatience. He turned his gaze upon the white unicorn mare, gaze challenging as it burned through the gloom under the canopy.
"All your gathered compassion and leadership was not enough to prevent a war, it seems. As far as I'm concerned you are all the same, sticking to the same old patterns without ever getting anywhere.
How many times have you fought over land now? Was the reason ever a good one? Truly? You leave the service of one god to serve beneath another... Do you really think you will escape just by changing the color of your banners?
If you really want to get away then I suggest leaving Helovia altogether."
Not that that would help them much either. There were gods everywhere, in every land, whether named or not. Cathun shifted where he stood, cocked a steely hip in a cool, collected manner that stood in sharp contrast to the firebrand speech he offered. In a way he surprised himself; when had he begun to care? Did he truly, even though he said so much?
And yet, he couldn't stop. The words demanded to be delivered.
"That Kiara woman, she said something good there. Uniting the four herds. Wouldn't that be something?
If we were to speak of suitability to lead the World's Edge, then anyone can lead a region, if getting along with the neighbors is the biggest requirement. If we were to address birthright to this place then Amaris or myself, Cathun, would be most eligible, being the daughter of the DragonHeart and son of the Silverthorn.
But personally I would find it rather pointless to simply repeat what has already been attempted, as it is a system that clearly doesn't work. Why not try something new, hm? Would you be up to such a challenge?"
His smile was easy as he looked around the gathering, the voice calm and smooth. But beneath the silver-touched forelock his eyes burned with a passion that did not lose to his challenge, and somewhere along the way Cathun had forgotten that he wasn't interested in sitting on a throne. Possibilities, ideas, they all exploded into existence even as he spoke, and the more he said the more he felt that he believed in it. Hadn't Lace always spoken of Helovia as one land, even while mentioning places like the Edge? Even if it was a misconception on Cathun's part the idea simply wouldn't leave him, and if he considered it further the vision only grew more solid, more alluring.
One land, one nation... Ah, now that was something he could bow his head to achieve. If proving himself able to rule a herd and get along with a god was a first step on a road to accomplishing such a feat... well. How difficult could it be?
_____________________________________
Permission to read his mind granted!
Cathun applies for a Military lead
04-20-2015, 12:52 PM (This post was last modified: 04-20-2015, 07:46 PM by Elsa.)
Elsa
I've cried, and you'd think I'd be better for it, but the sadness just sleeps, and it stays in my spine the rest of my life.
To say she was still angry was an understatement. She was still fuming from being displaced, and her hatred kept building up. Swears were made left and right about how she would never see them alive again. Sadly, as much as she wanted to let her mind loose, and to succumb to the dark side, she couldn't. The heart that beat in her chest was still fighting to keep itself alive. It would prod with gentle reminders about the children forced out alone, and the families and friendships torn apart. And for what? Apparently just the "safety" of a herd that was never in danger. It was a pathetic excuse in her mind, to run away from any land seemed like the easy way out. Being born to believe she had to fight for every right, her views could be rather narrow minded. So when news of the pickings of a new leader flew across Helovia, Elsa was displeased to hear it.
However, her displeasure was not in her hate. Instead it was embedded in the fact that this seemed to be the only way to keep everyone together. Rostislav, Kiara, Drom, Bellisma, all of them were out on their own. Even the children were run out. All had escaped before their parents. Vitani, Shida and Auriel (unbeknownst to Elsa) had all escaped by the end of the war. Edgar was especially worried about the lack of the twins presence. Since they were born, he had liked to keep watch over them. They were his responsibility, because they were Elsa's. In his mind, he acted as a second father, although he had no way of communicating with them.
Delving into her thoughts, Edgar plopped onto her head from the branches above. The urge for him to peck her forehead crossed his mind, but he found this to be better suited for a civil conversation. So instead, when she turned leave, he squawked the loudest goddamn noise she'd ever heard. Elsa cringed, flinging the bird from her head so he landed beside her with an ugly squeak. She knew he had a point, but did not want to return to where it all had started. Fool her once, shame on you, but fool her twice, and it is shame on herself. She knew the risks of even approaching one of them so close to the end of the war. The wounds of bitterness were fresh, and ran rampant in her blood. Elsa was beginning to think she was a glutton for punishment, because pain and rejection was all she knew. So, why not give it another go? The worse that could happen is she loses another eye and then is forced to blindly wander around in the wilderness. No biggie.
She took to the skies, her bonded wrapped tightly to her poll. The Edge was one of the places she rarely visited, if at all. The only thing she had done was graze the boarders in her travels. She had never actually been inside of the borders. As she glided overhead, she caught sight of the group, and the wondrous land below. How could one want to give up this place? It was far more impressive than the Hidden Falls. Their loss, she supposes.
Elsa descended to land a few meters away, eyeing the group before she approached. Had she made a horrible decision to come here? By the quick glance, all she could make out were her combatants. The one that caught her eye, was the other pale queen that she had fought twice. Once as a spar, the other as an enemy. Apparently, she seemed to be a lot more important than Elsa had predicted. Quietly, she made her way to the back of the group to listen to what they had to say. The first to speak was the painted mare, she had been in the invasion, but she had been too far away for Elsa to care. Quickly after, the pale unicorn spoke. She preached of peace, and Elsa wanted to laugh. The notion of peace in and of itself seemed to be nothing more than a naive dream. Did they not realize that they had just fought to kick people out? How on earth was that spreading the word of peace?
Yet, it did not matter for everyone began speak. Each providing their own strengths and weaknesses. Some valid in her opinion, while others were cliche words spewed in order to impress. Hopefully, these two decision makers were smart enough to know the difference. The first three to speak were all foreigners, two unicorns and a pegasus. Obviously, from either the Edge (well, Falls now) or the Basin. Great, so she had been the only one ballsy enough to come forward.
The voice that spoke next though, was one blatantly familiar. Turning to get a better look, she listened with shock as Rostislav spoke. Of all of them, she had expected him to take it the hardest. He seemed just as invested in their herd as Elsa was, if not more to a certain extent. Even Kiara showed up, the little medic that had the biggest heart in the world. They were both parents of the same child, if Elsa remembered. What was her name.. Vitani right? In a way, this set her at ease. Two others cared just as much as she did to show up. Both great picks in her mind, although Elsa was a little unimpressed at Kiara's talk of peace. Peace can be kept, but there is no way it can last forever. Hence why every herd she ever came across rooted their energy deep into their armies.
When the talking died down, Elsa stepped forward then, looking pointedly toward Ophelia. Besides Rostislav, she was the only one that had seen the other side of her. Maybe not the best of beings to rely on, but it was a start. "I am Elsa, for those of you who do not know me," she began, her voice level. There was a certain bitterness at the end that insinuated they had attack her without cause, but she couldn't contain it. It was the truth that there was still the deep wounds of anger and hate. Give her some credit though, she is trying her best to muscle through them. She'll give them the benefit of a doubt that they did not know of the rampant barbed beast that had taken her eye. "This lady knows of how I, and now how my brethren, fight." This way, they could not plead that they did not know their skills. Ophelia had watched her battle, and had taken some hits herself. "Although lacking numbers, we did manage to do some damage albeit minimum. All of us were nearly three to one, the stats against us before we began." It was a simple enough explanation, but the acid in her voice rose slightly. Edgar gently prodded her mind to remind her that she was not doing this for them, she was doing this for her family and for the sake of the Falls. Even if they were a misfit little group, she loved that family like her own, and it took her until now to realize that. They needed a home as much as the next person, and Elsa was not going to go beg Gaucho to harbor her while they figure out what to do. They needed stability now. "We have children with us that need a home, which is partly why I come," Her voice wavered a moment as she inhaled to calm herself down. Speaking in such a large crowd hadn't been done in a while. The last time she remembers doing this was just before she had to run, when all was nice and good. "We all have a skill set useful to you both. Which is why I think you should think about accepting an enemy to lead. The disbanded members, I believe, would feel far more comfortable being led by someone they can trust. That brings numbers, and numbers bring strength," with a nod, she motioned to both Ophelia and Kahlua. Obviously, that point had been proven, and there were no holes in her argument. "Not to mention, having the group under your wing would secure safety for a longer time. Driving us out will not help our bitterness, which I will not lie, is very prevalent. It also lessens the need for those of us outcasted to be driven to reclaim. In a sense, you'd be satiating the need for an uprising. What you do not realize about us, is that you don't really know us. So doing this would prove you wish to take a chance and mend things." Elsa was calmer, and more relaxed now. Edgar chirped in agreement from her head. She can clearly remember these words being spoke by her mother, in order to help mend the discord between rivaling bands. It had worked, but still some had come to kill her parents. However, it was much easier to catch one dissident than and entire armies worth of them. "I harbor skills in crafting, as well as in battle. The latter being my stronger suite thanks to the test of time." Stepping back, she fell silent against the crowd. It was a longshot, but she needed to give it one more try before she made anymore negative judgements. Now it was their turn to decide how to gain this peace they wish to have.
[Elsa will try for military lead. o.o of course mind looking is permitted. :)]
[edit;; to fix the table. ^^]
there is good in me, I swear
there must be good in me somewhere
He had come. They had asked, and he had come, a blizzard sweeping down in the wake of an earth slide and finding—nothing. He had been as needed as some more rains after a downpour, superfluous and useless, a worthless winter wolf dancing on the outskirts of a hunt already won. Maybe the Falls had thought they were brave when they put up a fight. Maybe they had thought they had had some kind of chance. Or maybe they'd been standing there, praying for their golden, glorious Midas to show up and save them (where the heck was he, anyway?), hands held together and throats straining against the futile evening sky in devout song. The outcome had been inevitable. They hadn't been brave when they stood their ground, and when they fought, and bled.
They had been stupid.
Utterly, irrevocably stupid, but at the same time, understandable. Predictable. Who wanted to just walk out of their home because they were outnumbered three to one?
There's something about the fight; he thinks of the far, distant north, of fires glowing upon the mountainside.. and he thinks of huge, monstrous bodies, white as the snows themselves, dark noses and eyes and blunt claws rigged on too-strong paws. They hadn't walked out just because the Magnar held them by the throat. They had holed up, too afraid to do anything but keep fighting.
Mauja had taken on the mantle of being their hero—a hero they needed, and desperately.
But he wasn't a hero.
Wasn't even an angel.
He was Mauja, the Frostheart, the first chosen King of the World's Edge, the first miserable Lord of the Aurora Basin, the Time-God's personal (and discarded) plaything... Hated, feared, and finally, forgotten.
He was no one, nothing, just a shadow slipping through the fog-threaded trees, breathing in familiar air and drinking in familiar scents. And the trees, they whispered to him, as they always had, whispers of change but also of futility: the land cared little for who ruled it. The land would remain.
The mortals would die.
What am I even doing here, he thought as he found his way, appearing like a ghost behind Kahlua. This isn't the way I do things.
If Mauja wanted the Edge, he would take it.
But he was curious, so he was there, soft muzzle reaching out to trail along Kahlua's hip as his heart constricted with the sound of her pained voice. What had done this to her? The war? Those asshats she ruled with? Her so-called family? Jaws locked together, pale eyes hot and harsh for a moment as they swept from her face to Ophelia's—Roskuld, his treacherous mind whispered, and he felt that other name upon the tip of his tongue.
Strange, seeing them both here, next to one another.
Even stranger to find nothing in his heart but ashen emptiness.
But then it began, the circus, the show they all had come to witness. One by one they would bare their souls, clamor to the skies that they were worthy, they were the best, listing merits and heritage and things and.. and... and Lena was there, and he nodded to her, but his mind was spinning and his heart was growing more desolate by the moment; bitter anger swallowed it, despair blackened it, until finally his reality was nothing but a dark, roaring vertigo of memory.
"I hate all of you," he managed to spit out into some space of silence, but it hardly sounded like he meant it—more like it had been lying there between his teeth, chafing, until he finally found some air to push it out with. Inhale. Exhale. Dark nostrils widened and shuddered, blue fire wearing away at already frayed nerves. His grip on control was fragile at best, as thin and brittle as bleached bones.. or ice. This was pointless. It was stupid.
It was disgusting and humiliating and he wondered how any of those present could stomach themselves. If he had been any of them, he would've flung himself off a cliff for good riddance, and probably not regretted it at all on the way down.
He wanted to just charge into them, lay into them with his horn, impale them on ice like sacrifices and laugh as they bled to death.
He figured they would look surprised, stuck there on spires of ice, heart's blood trickling down from their broken chests.
"I hate this," he said next, still sounding tortured, like someone drew the words from his swaying soul with perfected violence. "It's making me want to vomit. It's degrading."
Who, who, had thought this was a good idea? WHO had had the goddamn fucking brilliant idea that this would be a good way to elect new leads? Let a call go out for the greedy, for the needy, for the lost and the dreamers and—
He couldn't even remember if he had wanted to be King. He couldn't even recall if the Moon had asked him, or if she'd just shown up in her usual fashion and told him to deal with it.
Smoldering blue eyes settled on that idiot who had spoken about the Moon. He hadn't given his own name, so Mauja just settled on calling him Idiot 1. "You're about as perceptive as a dumb idiot," and really, insults had never been Mau's forte, "if you think that she ever was glorious. You're going to trip over your own feet and fall headfirst into some tragic, common trap for leaders who fail to learn from the past.
"And you," his attention swung to Rostislav, and maybe there were some old dislikes flaring back to life, "are full of shit. Or yourself. .. wait. No. They're synonymous anyway." Some part of him wanted to hold back, to stop and just slip back to the shadows he came from, and not have to make Kahlua witness this madness—because the dark rim around his eyes, the bite of his voice, they were all signs of it.
Mauja was, at least momentarily, out of his mind.
"And what, exactly, did the Qian ever amount to? Aside from the great achievement of following the most hypocritical bitch in history? She was dumber than dumbdumb over there-" Nose pointing at Idiot 1, of course. "-and now you're trying to pass that off as some kind of merit. Impressive," and he felt as if his voice was growing shrill and deranged but it was all in his head; the words came out in waves of passive aggression and bursts of white breath, the ground beneath him trembling with ice waiting to be let loose. "And who cares what your mother did," he spat to the dragonhorsething. "Honestly, who gives a fuck who your parents were when you're you?" He was too angry to phrase it better, slowly losing touch with words and other sophisticated things.
It would feel better to just slay them all on the spot.
"And unless you can come up with some new ideas I just might stick your eyes out so you can't try to qualify on fresh eyes once they've dried up," he spat at the other youngster. "Because you're useless, too."Way to make more enemies. He didn't care. He was past caring. "And if you're bitter, get over yourself," he finally told that snowy mare, wishing he could swallow a taste of his own medicine.
And then he said, because no one had totally asked him, perhaps the most marvelous thing he had ever said.
"I actually think Torleik is the least worthless here,"but you're all worthless.
You're all idiots. His lips curled in distaste, head high, spirit trembling.
He didn't want the Edge when the world was full of idiots.
He didn't want to put himself through this demeaning idiocy.
He didn't want to live in the Falls because Kahlua kept some really bad company.
He didn't want to live in the Falls because he hated everyone.
He didn't want to be in this place because everyone was stupid.
Suddenly the edge of the world itself seemed very tempting. A moment's flight.. and then, blissful reprieve from this mortal coil and all the idiots stuck here with him.
"You all suck," he finally hissed, ears going flat against his neck.
And all of a sudden, all he wanted was to be alone, and weep.
lord, the demands you're making-
help the monster on two feet
walk him down the hall, repeat
and when he's strong enough to stand alone
you'll notice what big teeth . . .
His mental conversation with Ophelia had its ebbs and flows. Torleik, astute, could feel when she momentarily left his headspace to curiously peer elsewhere, and it only took a few other...contenders for him to realize she was looking into their minds. Or, well, that was what he supposed.
Because to think she was merely leaving out of boredom or inability to handle their exchange hurt too much. Assuming she was raiding other minds was a much better option. So, despite his desire to not listen to others grovel or boast, the Bloodskald found himself hearing out speech after speech, and with every new delivery, the rage that usually sat so frozen beneath his frigidly applied desire to be a good man stirred, cracking the surface and beginning to steam through.
The very next child was demeaning his mention of war, as if putting another down would make him a more attractive candidate for lead. Torleik was no diplomat, but that was a fast way to make others angry, and a self-absorbed, immature delivery to boot. One whom Torleik had targeted during the invasion spoke next, claiming he could be firm but gentle. His eyes narrowed. Placing a conquered person in a seat of leadership practically begged for a later uprising unless the situation managed to be handled with the utmost of care - and that was an almost unheard of success in the world.
Still, the large one at least spoke sensibly. For the most part. Rostislav, the next female who spoke claimed his name was. She said words that did not offend, but that felt...bland, to the Bloodskald. He assumed others had judged his entry and thus felt no qualms in formulating his own opinions about everyone else. Still, he did not get overwhelming pride from this one, and she remained on his list of acceptable participants.
The next two most certainly were not. A haughty bitch of a mare claimed she had the right to lead because of...what? Her blood? Her genetics? Torleik turned, facing her, his frosty gaze practically sub-zero with the judgement and revulsion he felt inside at this...childish display.
Then the male spoke and Torleik's temper could take no more. But wisdom held his tongue fast for a better moment than an explosion in the midst of the boy's speech, for to do so would surely damage his image - and he was not a fool. He should not paint himself one. Another went after this Cathun, this whelp who claimed that his blood alone made him worthy.
Pathetic.
Blood meant nothing.
Nobility, nothing.
Lineage, nothing. Not when it came down to judging you as a man, as worthy, as successful.
A mare followed this display off utter ass but Torleik barely heard her, caught up as he was in his irritation, and the advent of a figure that set him even further on edge. "Mauja," he muttered under his breath, inaudible over the current speaker's words. Every sinew in his body wished to go to Ophelia's side, make sure there was no room for the white bastard to touch her, be near her - but that would be showing his faults and his weakness, and he could not afford that now, nor did he wish to let Polkadot know how much he got under his skin, even in calmer times.
Perhaps the warrior was more of a diplomat than he knew. Bolverik might have rubbed off on him more than Torleik had desired to absorb.
Surprise colored the dark, shadow-swirled canvas of his heart when the Frostheart came alongside Kahlua, not Ophelia, and ran his muzzle alongside her hip. What? What was this? Confusion muddied whatever colors were left and now Torleik simply watched, wondering, amazed at this new development. He had missed Polkadot's arrival in the battle, hadn't the slightest clue Ophelia had been the one to invite him (oh the betrayal he would feel), and for now, given what he'd seen, his heart foolishly surmised that it was Kahlua that precipitated his arrival.
Then Mauja spoke, and with every sentence, the Bloodskald felt dark humor bubbling up within him, the amused grin that he wanted to reveal brazenly for everyone to see only quirking his scarred, charcoal lips slightly. Still - this was beautiful. Poorly delivered in the insult department, but it was a damn beautiful sight to hear someone say what needed to be said. A strange mixture of relief and shame darkened the flowing waters of his soul, knowing that Mauja had the stones to say what the Basin General burned to say...but sometimes bravery was foolish, and words were meant to be held back.
To accomplish what he desired, he could not spout off at the mouth, no matter how much he wished to put these insolent little mewling children in their place - mostly just those two, the dragon bitch and the blood male. But he tempered his anger with the knowledge that it would be entirely possible he might end up ruling right alongside one of those very two, and he would have to make it work. Taking a deep breath, Torleik let his mind wander to the seas of home, the crashing shore, the mountains and frost of home, and his soul became placid once more.
Which was all undone the moment Polkadot said he was the most worthy candidate here - in a roundabout fashion.
Dumbfounded, he stared at the large male, brows furrowed, eyes asking, "Why?" What purpose did this suit? Was there truth in his statement, or was this just another move in a grand game of chess? Whatever the reason, Torleik felt compelled to support his (apparent) ally in this moment, though his hooves were rather tied. He had spoken his piece and had not yet been asked to defend his merit. Speaking out of turn was not how he should behave. So, for what it was worth, the rabicano met the Frostheart's eyes and gave him a respectful nod.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
OOC: Sorry, simply could not contain Torleik muse. Oh Mauja. :P
She'd been rather terrified of the thought. Having previously caught someone who passed the message about the Wilds that she had been wandering about with Narcisse, the idea was simple.
Or for Narcisse, at least.
Verlaine had wanted to show her son every thing about her culture and her birthplace, to fill his mind to their endless and impossible brims with stories and the language as a whole. Like any other child would be upon learning such things, the kit cared of nothing.
It broke her weak heart, heavy with loneliness for in the past, she had been surrounded by love on every side. Emptiness cracked her walls while she silently cursed herself when he slept, oblivious to all of her death.
In the end, she began to wear her magic as a mask, clinging to the very essence of whatever unknown gift brought it upon her. Personal laws ended up being broken. The world became nonexistant, free-flowing as a liquid. She broke every single law that she could manage to break in a short period of time.
What finally came to end the rebellious spree of a young woman(though Verlaine would claim herself to be too well raised to act in such ways), was that being DEAD while being alive and switching interchangabily meant a different set of rules for everything. The living cannot simply pass through material objects and other bodies(which felt as disgusting as it sounds) like the dead can, and after a failed attempt at passing through a tree at the expense of Narcisse's young humour, she'd given up.
The idea of leading rekindled a fire back into her wounded soul. Family title may of been abandoned long ago and meaningless to anyone within this place, but leading, oh, it would be an accomplishment in her life that gave her meaning. The nobility were meant to lead: it was their soul purpose in the world, to govern over the weak so that they may have guidance with religion in hand.
To be a queen sounded like a gift from God, divine right.
Having groomed as far as she could get herself to be, she traveled across land as a ghost, acting as if she was on a mission even through the afterlife. Narcisse was her only hold up, complaining at the aches in his young legs and whining for food, begging for play and attention from his mother. She would give to his needs time and time again before finally discarding her ghostly appearance, gathering the kit up and slinging him onto her spine, forced to carry the small weight of a child who would rather complain than make himself useful.
She gives him up at the borders, fading into herself once more, whispering in quick french that she is only doing this so that she could a lavish appearance, to offer a sighting and acknowledgement of a woman trying to rise to glory from the peasantry. The mountain walls would have to be scaled again to leave her valley of sorrows.
A gathering is already set up by the time she meets them. Wisps funnel from her body and flutter about the bodies, intertwining herself about their bodies as the fingers of star crossed lovers do. Violet eyes paint themselves a dull grey. The light strikes her body and fades her away like a picture from years gone by, but she does nothing to change herself from it.
They all make her feel funny, thinking war can be given away forever. War built societies, goverments, empires. War was the basis of life.
The spotted, who releases his anger out upon all that stand about, is ignored. Nobility had been attacked time and time again, the lower classes rising up to better themselves against the more fortunate.
The same old, same old, as her father would of told her.
When her chance rises from the dawn, she snaps into reality, expelling the magic from her form, replacing a future permanent form with a temporary, living, breathing form. Her throat clears to bring attention down to her short stature. "I stand here before you as Verlaine, a victomesse of a place none of you probably care to know of. I do not speak your language in the same skill as any of you. I come from a place of a much different society, but I offer myself up as a leader." Her french accent rains hail upon her words, stopping at some internals to translate words in her head. Narcisse sits beside her hooves and naps, indifferent to all that his bonded speaks of. "But of all of my differences that I'm willing to let be known with pride, there is one thing I am sure of. Society is addicted to war, and while I care nothing of war, war is crucial to every bit of a growing society from armies to treaties. Without war, every single one of you will be bored with yourselves. Even if you agree to neutrality, someone from the outside will always step in.
"Instead of the empty idea of no more war, I would like to strive to improve the comforts of this home for all those within it, and make treaties and alliances in such a way that if we may go to war when it is called upon, we would have the correct advantages that lead us to victory. I will never force the herd into war if it is not needed."
She calms her beating heart, overwhelmed by the speaking with a headache setting in. Pure nationalism beat the idea of her first language into her mind. "I want to establish a solid foundation of nationalism. No strong herd deserves to be known as cowards." Violet eyes burn into the bodies of the two females who had put seemingly put themselves in charge. Pride bursts a hot flame in her chest. "I want to be a leader because I want to see the true strength of the herd that kindly offered me a home when I was tired and on my knees."
OOC: So. Much. Muse.
I didn't expect her to be like this, but somehow it lit a flame in her.
Verlaine is here to try for diplomatic lead, and Ophelia is more than welcome to use her magic on her.
Of course the dragonmare was present. News of her beloved Edge was something she would keep tabs on, something she would be involved with. Did she agree with their defection? Of course not. Had she been Queen, would it have happened? She wouldn't have stopped those who wanted to leave from leaving. She wouldn't have encouraged them to leave, but rather, tried to show them why what had happened, happened. Though, that was easier said than done - and there was no use mulling over it anyway. What was done was done - and now the Edge stood, a land abandoned by its people, kept in the shadows by its Goddess, and contested over by those who thought themselves worthy.
The mare was indifferent to the selection process, most likely because she was not a part of it. Her time as Queen had come and gone, she held no desire to hold the crown again, but that did not mean she didn't care for the herd, nor want to be a part of it in the future. On the contrary - she wanted to be Seer, to be the Goddess' connection to the land (as if the bracelet she wore upon her leg was not enough).
It was obvious when the mare arrived, for the false twilight that fell upon the lands announced her, though her presence was masked by the shimmering mirage that was her magic cloaking her. Though perhaps it went mosty unnoticed because there were far more interesting things going on. Akaith, appeared suddenly in the trees above the group, joining the other dragons who were present, with an affection greeting given in particular to the red spirit glow of Amaris - a greeting sure to trickle through to the golden child. Mirage smiled to herself, hidden in her magic as she remained on the fringes, and listened without interfering or interjecting. It wasn't her place to.
A strange mix of pride and sorrow went through her heart as she watched her daughter make her plea. Leadership was not something to be yearned for lightly, though that was a lesson most only learned when thrust upon the mantle. Her daughter would make a fine queen, but she would lose all semblance of a normal life if she were successful in attaining it. A sigh left her lips - it was all she could do on the matter, really.
Then her attention beheld Cathun.
If Lace was the SilverThorn, then this one was the SilverSpear surely, far more obvious and all the more deadly for his ambition and resolve.
The mare knew not how to feel about him. She looked upon with both love and hate - a love for his father, and a hate for whatever mare birthed him.
Others were present of course, others pledged their case to the committee that would ultimately decide, but Mirage's attention did not drift from the ashen hide of Cathun until he came.
Mauja.
"Still bitter about your loss, I see, Mauja." Her voice appeared at the same time she did, stepping forward to stand beside her daughter. Mirage was not an overly tall mare, she was not domineering in stature but actually rather average. She was aged, but fit, she was scarred, but mobile.
And hell, she could turn into a dragon if she wanted to.
"What exactly have you done that makes you so qualified to cast judgement upon everyone else here?"
04-23-2015, 03:00 AM (This post was last modified: 04-23-2015, 02:57 PM by Linds.)
The answers you seek,
Shall be yours,
Once I claim,
What is mine.
Of course I had returned.
Was it truly a surprise that I had taken this risk? Would those in competition for King find it appalling that I’d again sought to chain myself to the rushing of the sea of the curling of the mists? Or was this just another game, another show of power that would ultimately earn them a title they’d been seeking? As far as I was concerned, the World’s Edge was more than just a piece of land… it was more than entitlement.
I came only to fight for the peace that Mirage had once stood for. However, this time was different. This time I was older and wiser and… willing. I had been terrified when I first sat upon the throne; I had been a coward, unworthy of remembrance. The World’s Edge was my home… I wanted to serve her as I would any King or Queen. She was the beating of my heart…
"Would you stand by me, as my equal, my fellow WeyrLeader of the World's Edge?"-Mirage the DragonHeart
Of course any fool would kiss the earth for such an opportunity! Of course any fool would remain at her side, working diligently to protect what the Edge stood for. My past had shaped me and taught me to become the man I was today, and not without its natural hardships. I had fought for the Edge and I had fought for myself. I had learned more from the Moon Goddess’ land than any other- the Hidden Falls simply would not do. This was my chance to remember and to grow and to encourage those looking for the everlasting peace of this incredible place.
When I first arrived in the Threshold, it had been Mirage who invited me beneath her figurative wing. She had guided me and stimulated me to become more than I was- and I did. I chose to follow her and invite her family into my heart because it was something that I truly believed in. It was something I would always remember, not because of the power or the security, but because of the family I had come to embrace and love.
"My family is large, dark knight of winter, and not all are of them are bound by blood; but something deeper, something within."- Mirage the DragonHeart
Those memories kept me satisfied; they reminded me of why I had chosen the World’s Edge in the first place. Even now, as I moved against the curling of the mists and their gentle caress at my return, I knew that I had come back for a reason. This wonderful land had been lacking, it had been missing something so vital and otherworldly- it had been missing home.
When had the Edge been considered home since Mirage’s leave? It had been nothing but a shell of the land it once was and nothing other than a place to live and reside… Too many times had I heard those words since my return and too many times had I considered them less than substantial. I wanted the Edge to be a place that one grew and learned. I wanted it be a place that again made sense instead of war.
As I listened to the crashing of the waves and inhaled the sweet, salty brine that curved up from the sea… I knew. I knew that no one else would be able to honor the World’s Edge like I could. No one else would see the World’s Edge like I did. Even if I did not again claim its crown, I would remain… if only to reminiscence and live out my past in the quiet wood that had nurtured me since my youth.
I, Thor the GentleHeart, had come back to remember. I had come back to rule the World’s Edge.
When I had come to approach the gathering of hopefuls, with so many of them set of claiming the throne, I almost turned away. I thought about my inabilities and my insecurities. I was not strong and I was not young, but I was knowledgeable because the best of hearts had taught me to be otherwise. It was almost comical that Mirage was amongst them (thought I wouldn’t laugh at her presence by any means). In fact, upon seeing the little shadow-mare in my company, I couldn’t contain the smile that touched my lips. She too suffered from the hold that the Edge had on her… Surely they would understand my own quarrels concerning her next leader?
"My lips felt as though they were stretched and cracked and yet there was an echo of a feeling that made it all feel natural. I was home. I was HOME!
I was home…"- Thor the GentleHeart
There were many faces that I’d seen and many that I had not. It appeared that greed was a ferocious thing that even mortals could not avoid… but when had I avoided greed myself? I recognized Ophelia and of course Mirage. I recognized the Dragonheart’s daughter and I knew Kahlua… but everyone else was a mystery. They held no bearing on my time in the Edge and therefore knew nothing of her. If I was wrong, then the Gods would find pity on their souls…
If they were favored members of the World’s Edge, then they would find their throne just as I hoped.
Though, they would also have me at their back... looking for room to displace them.
“Friends! I come seeking your audience and your favor. I know many of you are here to discredit me and to trump my presence, but I look instead for your favor and your encouragement. I am Thor the GentleHeart. At one time, many years ago, I ruled this land alongside Mirage,” I stated almost breathlessly. “However, my youth was not helpful… it was not commendable. I return now seeking this throne- I return in order to restore the balance the World’s Edge once knew,” I stated evenly while turning my gaze to Mirage. She had only seen me a few moments upon her return, but this was different. I had grown. I had learned.
“I don’t care about past rivalries- they will be amended. I don’t care about bad blood, because it will not be tolerated. These age-old conflicts will be forgotten because that is not the life I intend to lead. No matter the ruler and no matter his or her second, I will forever be a presence in your midst. I will forever put the World’s Edge above your selfish greed. I have come from battle and a battle that should not have occurred… I come seeking strength and security- of which I can make! This will not be a land of want and instead of land of absolute safety and development-,” I stated while looking to each individual with an honest look of understanding. “-and I don’t care about what the Moon Goddess has done to disrupt this land. The Edge has been a home to me and it has been a home to so many more for so long… I ask of you, Kahlua, to remember my servitude to you. I ask that you remember what I’ve done despite my prejudices. This land, because it is not just a land, deserves peace and justice. The sea and the wood and the mists… they are just as much a part of this land as its people. I will forever be devout to the World’s Edge, King or not! Though I ask that you see me! I ask that you remember me! I ask that you choose me.”
Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.
She had simply been curious about the call, lurking behind the others as they began listening to Kahlua speak. In some ways her and Kahlua were completely compatible, a mere reflection of each other. Perhaps it was because of these similarities that the doe respectfully listened to the kind mare's voice. Yet it mostly only served to cause confusion within the doe...how on earth could words prove that they were capable of leading a herd? Even if they were honest words, truly meant, how on earth could they actually know? Until they were placed in a high pressure situation, until they were faced with a challenge, did anyone actually know what they were and were not capable of? No. Of course not. Listening to Torleik speak Arah smiled softly. The general contained a good heart and she admired that way he nobly sought to keep peace, but that was such a difficult thing to maintain. One minute your friends and then you were invading them, attacking their friends and family.
Peace.
It was all just a front.
Next a dark coloured stag spoke, his glossy feathers impressive to all. Only...that came to be the only thing that really impressed the doe. His words seemed to be empty of true purpose. Bring the moon goddess back to her glory? She was a god. The fae princess was fairly sure that moonie had it covered. Sighing softly she took another step closer, watching the group that was starting to grow larger. Most were nameless faces, they meant nothing to her, she could only hope that in the future their proved her wrong. Because two of these souls before her would one day become the leaders of this land, the knowledge would serve her well. Rostislav came next, this time Arah no longer concerned herself with remaining silent. He was an idiot. Sighing after he had finished speaking Arah did not bother attempting to disguise her look of doubt. 'Sé nach fiú. Wynter's own doubtful tones filled her mind. 'Uimh Níl sé.' The doe smirked as she responded to her bonded, surveying the brute as she did. On the numerous times that they had met the idiot stag, Arah watched as he had simply bummed his way through every situation. If he won the lead she seriously doubted a stable hold upon the position. Shaking her head the doe turned to look upon the one who introduced herself as Kiara.
Once again she heard the same thing, the words may be different but nothing had changed from the winged stallion or Rostislav. The doe wondered if any of them saw the point, perhaps they were being honest but did they honestly think they could handle being a leader?
That again what did she know about leading....ruling?
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Now that was an amusing thought. Perhaps she should be so quick to judge the others as fools. Sighing the doe allowed her thoughts to wonder, only half listening to the babble the came from the rest. They all wanted it, they all believed themselves worthy but how crushed would they be if they didn't get it?
It wasn't until Mauja spoke that she truly followed the conversation with enthusiasm. Both entertained and agreeing with his words, Arah smirked throughout The Frostheart's rant. Maybe she was enjoying this too much...but damn Mauja!! Don't hold back!!
Three others spoke before the doe decided to break her silence. She did not know Mirage. She did not know Thor.
She did not care.
Finally she stepped forward and nodded once to the two queens before her. "The way I see it?" A dry chuckle fell from her lips as she turned to the former King beside her. "Mauja and Torleik are the only ones here who actually deserve it." She eyed both of them, sizing and comparing them to each other. "Although...I don't think either of them wants it partially badly." Looking upon each that had spoken, Arah now stepped up to the plate, passion burning in her eyes and filling her words. "At least Mauja has the guts to say what he truly thinks!" Or is crazy enough to. The doe glared at the ones who she had judged as foolish. Turning towards the winged one who had spoken first she laughed outright. "I mean come on! Helping the Moon Goddess return to her former glory? She's a murderer idiot. I think her glory has gone to the shit house." Turning to Kahlua she frowned slightly, this time taking a moment to consider her words. "You asked the wrong questions." A dry and bitter chuckle tumbled through her chops, as the anger finally dimmed and burned it's self out. "You should have asked what they were after."
And what are you after Arah?
What do you want?
Why are you even here?
Does she deserve it? Can she handle the pressure? Why does she want to be a leader? Tilting her head to the side the doe fell silent as she pondered the questions she had just presented. Did she even want to be lead?
Yes.
However did she wish to be Queen of The Edge or Lady of The Basin? Eyes skittered up towards the Queen and then to her own Lady. "Anyway, can anyone honestly answer those questions until they are in the position?" She glanced at Mirage and Thor, did they think they had a right to the position simply because they had held it before? If not...what on earth where they after besides perhaps a second chance to change their fates. Besides, what did it actually matter. They could bicker among themseleves but in the end it would be Kahlua who decided the most worthy, wise, noble or powerful. The chances of her being chosen? Slim. So what did it really matter if she came and was completely honest for once? With Wynter standing proudly beside her, the doe waited for the challenge she was sure would come.
And I ain't afraid to die, I’m afraid of going to hell.
✽ Force and magic permitted. ✽
✽ No fatal or permanent damage. ✽
✽ Please only tag in opening posts. ✽
04-25-2015, 01:49 AM (This post was last modified: 04-25-2015, 01:52 AM by Ampere.)
Chancellor.
The rank was like a new pair of shoes, pretty, but too tight, and too expensive to be worth it - but worn anyway, because fuck it. She hadn't asked for the title, but when had she ever? They seemed to find her, as if she deserved them or something, as if she was rational enough to be a leader when she'd never been able to make anyone listen to her. Well, her boy did a pretty good job, but even so he was missing more often than not, sneaking around in the wilds doing gods know what.
Anyway, Ampere felt that itchy foot syndrome that she always did whenever shit got tough and running seemed like the most reasonable solution. She'd managed to curb that desire into something actually useful this time, figuring that as Chancellor she needed to know what the fuck was going on with the herds now that they had all changed around and were starting wars - but it was equally an opportunity to get away from the heat, from the sand, from the herd and it's responsibilities (even if she carried them on her wings this very moment). Mostly it was a way to escape him, because she was pretty damn sure he was up to something by giving her this title.
Gladiator, sure, she was a fighter and that was obvious. Maybe not the best fighter, or the ideal leader, much less a leader fighter, but she was managing that because she was better at it than most things. Chancellor though, that was a whole new way of fighting, and one she wasn't confident she was any good at. Still, you didn't become good in battles by never earning bruises, and you only earned those by getting in the ring and throwing out a few kicks of your own. Ampere couldn't just keep flying away, scared of the promotion and what she thought she could and couldn't do.
She could definitely keep flying away from him though, and what he was trying to mean or not mean with the shit he did - but even so she ended up flying back every damn time, so did it even count?
Ampere shook her head, thoughts spinning as the Edge opened up beneath her. She was a bit familiar with the herd after competing in Kahlua's scavenger hunt. Now, just as then, she had come in the hopes of learning something. If being a good warrior meant throwing kicks, being a good politician meant knowing shit, and that came from listening.
Landing in a sweep of black feathers and swirling mist, Ampere was surprised at the sheer gathering that came to meet the competition the Edge Queen had announced. One after another they came, bearing themselves, tearing others down to build themselves up, and Ampere hated every moment of it. She had only half believed the murmurs about this little competition, and even when she'd landed among the crowd she'd hoped it was something else. Kahlua always had a way of failing to deliver for Ampere though, and this time was no exception.
"What are they doing?" she couldn't help but wonder. "Herds should be lead by whoever seizes it, whoever fights for it. Why are they involving themselves in a land that isn't going to be theirs? Why do they have the authority to do that?" Confusion more than anger coursed through Ampere as she watched the proceedings. Coming from a very nomadic upbringing, this was just not the way of the wild, and frankly, it didn't seem to be a good way no matter what it was. Everyone seemed like a jackass...
How could they all stand here, wanting the land of the Goddess of the Moon, and yet more walked on her name than didn't. Were they so entitled as to think this belonged to them and not to her? Were they so stupid as to think the world could exist without her? What she had done was horrible, but no less so than the countless atrocities enacted by mortals all around all the time. Were they blind, or did it only matter when it affected them somehow? "We need the moon... and just because she is gone, does not mean darkness is." Wherever a light shone, a shadow was cast, be it on the ground, in the heavens, or in the hearts of mortals.
She sighed, cocking a back leg and waiting to see what would happen. Fighting was a helluva lot more fun than this...
[Ampere is just here to watch :) Mind reading is allowed if desired though o_o ]
Curiosity draws her like a moth to a flame, proudly arched tail hooking between her powerful thighs as she saunters towards the meeting. There is quite a crowd already gathered, including a number of familiar faces - Kahlua, Mauja, Blue-Marking-Lightning-Mare-Who-Shits-From-A-Great-Height. The meaning of the meeting is obvious; to elect new leaders. New monarchs to take control of the new Edge, after half their number disappeared off into the Falls after the invasion. An invasion that Nyx is still rather salty about missing, truth be told. Having to stay behind like a child hadn't sat well with her, as she'd itched to bathe the world in blood like the warrior she was.
The silver soldier would be lying if she said she wasn't a little tempted to run for the lead position herself, though. She has all the necessary attributes; strong-minded, strong-bodied, diplomatic, open-minded. She could lead the Edge into a new era of glory, a crowned queen like her mother before her. How proud darling Querida would be of her once-blind, broken little daughter! Oh, what an empire Nyx could build, full of strong fighters of every race, a herd feared but revered the world over.
She is about to speak up, add her voice to the din, but she hesitates. Next to her, Dominus lurks, his own hunger for kinghood obvious in the hunch of his powerful back and the way his tongue darts free to lick his blackened lips. Is she really qualified to lead? She has always followed, always obeyed; she is a soldier, not a queen. She needs orders, needs direction. Is she the right person to lead the Edge? The answer is no, probably not. With a resigned sigh, she decides against trying - but she will have her input, over all the squabbling. "Maybe they should fight for it," she suggests pleasantly. "After all, we need at least one leader willing to get their hooves dirty on the battlefield." The warrioress would not obey a coward; she respected only those that had defeated her in battle or who she had seen to be strong. Perhaps one Edge leader could be more peace-orientated, but Nyx needs the other to be a man or woman after her own heart, else serious decisions will need to be made over her own future.
-----
Nyx is just observing.
Other characters have permission to use magic/violence against Nyx at any time.
04-25-2015, 02:42 PM (This post was last modified: 04-25-2015, 02:51 PM by Maren.)
(just watching!)
Charade after charade after charade - Was this how it worked here? New leaders being chosen by other leaders? It was so vague. Shouldn't those wanting already have a following? Wasn't there an organized group ready and greedy for these lands? Where was the democracy she preferred smelling. Where was the logic. Everything instead of this nonsense.
Maren had hidden herself in the mists; wrapped up in the clouds of her own creation and that of the lands. But at some point she had stepped on a dead twig and thus had decided to make herself known, placing herself somewhere in the caress of the shadow of the trees on the outer lines of the area. With the halo shining above her head, it did not really matter in which shadowed corner she stood to find cover, as only the shadow of light could hide what made her stand out in the shadow. And thus she was not to be made a spy. But who would want to be a spy, anyway, when there was a god to serve. Everyone was allowed to see her, she would even give her figure a voice if anyone would ask for it. The silence of the priestess' burgundy shaded eyes moved to the Forsaken, watched her stern appearance. Thoughtfully she looked, her wings just as quietly laying on the air around her face.
She listened as those who did come to speak, spoke. Time passed and somehow her mind did not manage to judge - or at least not the way that one, who's coat was filled with burned fireflies, did. Even after his attempt to make every nominee feel bad about themselves, he still managed to pick a favorite. Hmm... Are you troubled? He must be, after all. Just like she had been that night - Or perhaps he had been an idiot too, once, and now he found himself to late to warn everyone else for the same fate.
She did not really understand what the mare with the long hair was hearing in the words that had been said so far. After all, the way Mauja (she now knew) had spoken had not particularly been... Clear- or based on any arguments. Maren concluded that he was just generously leaking emotion from all the cracks and crevices that had apparently formed him along the way. Thoughtful, she continued shewing on her tongue. Guts...
Maren's gaze suddenly got caught by a blue flash, an entering pegasus. Somewhat surprised she looked how the mare had found herself on the ground. Are you serious...? Was she entering this... This thing? This... happening? No, of course not. She told herself. The Mother of Companions was, after all, just declared chancellor. So, having eased her own heart with her self-woven conclusions, she glanced once more over at the Lady of the Basin and the former Queen of the Edge, and as quietly as she could she walked in Ampere's direction, covered by the shadows of the mists and the forest. When she had found a place next to the mare, Maren wobbled her eyebrows just once before shrugging her striped shoulders with a silent sigh. As if trying to say: Sorry that you've come all the way.
"Talking."
Maren
THE INTERIM OF LIFE HAS GOT YOU TIPTOED AND PINNING ALL YOUR HOPES
ON THE TOP DOG OF DREAMS
04-25-2015, 02:52 PM (This post was last modified: 04-26-2015, 12:55 AM by Sevin.)
KAHLUA
The queen couldn’t help but feel guilty as Ophelia spoke about her. She would offer compassion and wisdom? What compassion could she offer? She had led her herd to cause the destruction of another, willingly rained destruction upon an unsuspecting herd of peaceful creatures, and chased more of them from their home than she wanted to think about. She had offered them the chance to stay, of course, and yet… How could she ask them to stay and rule under the hooves of three who had sacked their home, seemingly without remorse? She did not blame them for going, though she wished they would have stayed. As for wisdom… Kahlua was under no delusions. She had no wisdom to offer others. Only cowardice, weakness, complacency. She wanted peace, but she had been willing to let Kaj and Archibald destroy instead. She had not stood up to them- how could she?- but when she had let them choose that path she had let them take her morals.
She was no leader. She was only a jester in disguise, wearing a crown too big for her head, and ignoring the reality that was staring her in her face.
Her eyes danced over each attendant as they came- one after another wishing for a moondust crown that she had not been strong enough to carry. Would a stone crown be any lighter? Torleik… he had never really left the back of her mind. She owed him an apology that words could never really do justice to. She had been scared and reactionary back then, or maybe she still was, but at least she had a different idea of what was right and wrong. “I’m sorry,” she murmured softly as he spoke, her eyes dancing to catch his, hoping the pain in her voice and the sincerity on her face would at least begin to repair the damage that she had done. Would he even remember?
Artorius next… The lands of the Edge are where I’m meant to be. The queen felt a new pang dive into her heart at those words. No more need be spoken on the subject. Those words were the very embodiment of the queen. Even if the Lady Moon was a killer, horrendous, a monster… Kahlua was no better now, maybe never had been. This was her home. Looking around at the foliage made tears dance at the edge of her lids again. Did she really have to say goodbye?
As for Rostislav, his words, though well-intentioned, were like a knife to her soul. One of the displaced, one of the innocent souls whose lives she had destroyed… Could she even look him in his eyes? Hardly. Her gaze danced downwards to the ground, avoiding… She owed him an apology too, but she could not offer him one. Congratulations. It nearly made her sick to hear that and for a moment her breath came faster, pain rushing through her abdomen as she tried to listen to what he had to say. More pin pricks came as Kiara added her own thoughts. The came here looking for a home because theirs had been stolen… It was all the queen could think of, until…
Amaris’ arrival surprised the queen in some ways, but it was her words that really stung. They were accusatory, in some ways. Mistakes the leaders had made? Kahlua took the words to heart, even if they were not meant for her, because she had given her heart and soul to these lands, never asking for anything in return, and they had destroyed her. So if there were mistakes made, and perhaps there were, there was nothing she could have done anyways. She was nothing anymore because of what she had given to this land. A scream welled at the back of her throat- she heard the noise in her head… a banshee’s call that would have chilled the blood of all in attendance. She fought against it, coughing a few times as she tried to retain her silence. This was all too much, but the painted queen was always dutiful. She would bear this burden like the rest, even as it drove her down to the depths of hell.
For the next few moments, as Cathun and Elsa spoke, it was all she could do to listen to them. Cathun’s accusations atop Amaris’ unintended ones, Elsa’s additional reminders that she was one of the displaced Falls members… It was getting to be too much for the tender queen and she began to shift uneasily, squirming under the weight of the anger and pain and sorrow and sickness and depression that she felt. Her resolve began to waver, her desire to run into the shadows increased, and though she heard what they said, she hardly had the wherewithal to look up and greet them properly. Just watching the grass beneath her hooves was making the world spin.
Thank the gods, then, that he arrived.
Mauja’s nose had barely settled along her side, she had barely recognized who he was, before she was pressing against his side, trying (for all intents and purposes) to meld herself into him. He thought he was nothing, but he was everything to her. Her friend, her rock, her confidant. The Clyde to her Bonnie. So, while the world devolved into chaos around her, the queen unabashedly looked to him for confidence. She didn’t even mind when his words were angry because in every way he was saying all of the things that she wanted to scream at them. None of them were worthy. This was her land, her home, her forest. None of them deserved this, and even though the Edge had literally ruined her to the very core, she didn’t want to let it go because it was hers, and she didn’t know how to say goodbye to it. So she let Mauja yell and hate and rage, and somehow, against all odds, the broken queen began to smile- as long as she wasn't included in the everyone that Mauja hated. Or maybe it didn’t matter, because she was worthy of that hate anyways.
From that point forward, things became easier to deal with. Some smoking creature, speaking in a tongue lilted with an accent, spoke and Kahlua didn’t even mind that she had ignored the question of how she would deal with the stress. And when Mirage came… ah, the queen might have cried. She might have fallen into a panic attack beyond capture, but with Mauja at her side… she somehow felt invincible. Feeling dead and invincible were not good qualities for a queen. “He was here,” she spit out acridly, the sound of her voice sudden after her long period of silence, but Mirage was one mare she couldn’t possibly ignore. Besides, the DragonHeart was just one more soul that she could blame for everything that had happened. If the black mare had never left, never hidden so deeply in the shadows of her home, none of this would have happened. The Sunshower would still be the happy-go-lucky child she had been at her arrival to Helovia. She would not have disintegrated into the terrible monster that headed this gathering now. It made sense, somehow, in the dark and twisted corners of her mind, to blame Mirage.
She had a lot more to say to the black woman, a lot more blame to spit at her, a lot more hatred to spew, but once again she restrained herself, just barely, restraint as foreign to the impulsive woman as leadership and wisdom. Absently, her eyes turned to Arah, hearing what the woman had said- a suggestion as to what she should have asked. That was wisdom, of which Kahlua was once again reminded she had none. Nyx’s words only made her sick again. More mention of war and battle… the queen shook her head.
But then it was her turn. She still had authority in this moment, still ruled this land and the shattered glass and the draconian forest and the crashing waves at the bottom of the sheer cliffs. She still owned the winds and the brush and the woodland creatures and the few that still remained in this place. For a minute, she considered channeling Mauja, yelling for all of them to leave and get out of her house because she was going to live here forever and none of them deserved this place anyways. She could kick them all out, fix the wall, let Mauja in… If they closed it up, the two of them could live here indefinitely. The grass would always grow, the rains would fall, it would be their own personal wonderland, and then they could hate everyone (and themselves) from the sanctity of their own little Eden. But the Lady Moon wouldn’t allow that to happen, would she? Still, the idea was intoxicating.
Besides, duty called, and if nothing else, the painted woman completed the tasks that were assigned to her. Absently, she looked back to Mirage, thinking of the glass prison wall she had worked on for so long. Had the dragon queen even appreciated it? Hardly. She’d disappeared so soon afterwards. Shaking her head, the Sunshower found the strength to look over all of those who had gathered and nature’s song around her seemed to grow a little more brilliant. “Come on,” she decided finally, the usually verbose woman feeling rather short. “You told me why you should be leaders. Now you can prove that you deserve it.” Snorting in disgust, she began to move through the crowd, adding absently a moment later, “Warriors stay with Ophelia.” With a glance of appreciation to Arah for what she had said, the queen looked south. Could she manage to stay put together for the entire length of the journey?
Perhaps… if Mauja came with her. Glancing back to him, her wish written plainly on her face, the queen carried on. She could not stop him from staying, if he wanted to, nor would she ask him to do otherwise.
My apologies for the massive post. I never meant to let it get so long. Kahlua just had so many feels to deal with.
All diplomatic type leads should come with Kahlua to the Throat. I’ll tag you in a thread there.
All military type leads should go with Ophelia, who will tag you in a different thread.
Diplomatic Candidates| Artorius, Kiara, Amaris, Verlaine, Thor
Military Candidates| Torleik, Rostislav, Cathun, Elsa
Unknown Candidates| Mauja?, Arah? (not sure where you guys want to go or if you were in the running, maybe PM me and tamme so we know where to tag you?)
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![[Image: 531c0b471919e]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/531c0b471919e)
