"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.
06-12-2015, 08:21 PM (This post was last modified: 06-12-2015, 08:22 PM by Tiamat.)
The cold breath of Frostfall stirs the newly-fallen snow into little flurries that dance up as delicate whirlwinds, rising to the white sky in little snow pillars before they eventually settle back to the ground. With this icy season well underway, it has brought the creatures of Helovia into its frigid grasp (albeit some tighter than others). But this does not dampen the blue mare’s spirits. Amidst the white hills and thin woods, a figure dances, her ocean blue coat dark in contrast to the pallor of winter’s frosted canvas. The cold wind glides over her skin and rakes its fingers through her mane—singing a song to her ears and whistling through the hollows of her horn as she gallops forward.
Tiamat prances through the powdery snow blithely, her slender legs tossing up her own little flurries as she plunges forward. Snowflakes catch in the dark hair of her ornamented mane and tail, clinging to thick white lashes as they bat with glee, mirroring the delighted smile that curls her blue lips. Over the softly rolling plains, her laughter echoes—as buoyant and cheerful as her very being.
Suddenly the ground drops in a steeper decline—perhaps hidden by the sheer whiteness of the wood’s tundra, or simply missed because so caught up is she in her joyful play—in any case, the decline manages to catch the young mare off-guard and steals her balance. With cloven hooves stumbling over themselves, Tiamat tumbles abruptly forward, her body twisting so that she lands somewhere between her side and back. Fortunately, the blanket of snow provides enough cushion to soften her fall. She lays there for only a moment—surprised, more than anything—before she laughs again, the sound hearty and light.
Her legs frolicking in the air, the blue mare glances to the sky—to her mother there, surely watching with her own merry laughter. “Nice one, mama,” Tiamat chuckles joyously, elated to share this moment together. For too long they had been apart. Her search to find her mother sky had been long, and had taken her away from that place—home—and into strange distances, but her wandering had not been for naught.
They are one again.
Shuffling onto her side and lifting herself into a standing position again, Tiamat shakes vigorously, sending little whirls of snow dancing into the air. However, they are soon replaced—several flakes settling along the curve of her neck and back as Frostfall releases another light snowfall. The blue mare sticks her tongue out to catch a few, a small shiver quivering down her spine and a snort tossing her head as the ice chills her mouth. Shaking her head to toss her long forelock from her eyes, Tiamat glances through the trees, searching. Her inquiry is quickly accompanied by the soprano whinny that leaves her lips, shaking her slender body and leaving in translucent tendrils that dance like glowing shadows through the boughs above.
notes;; open for anyone heading to the Basin, of the Basin, etc. xD tag;; @[Ashamin] “Speech.”
06-13-2015, 04:58 PM (This post was last modified: 06-13-2015, 04:59 PM by Ashamin.)
A S H A M I N Back on His Feet
At last, Ashamin could begin the journey home. He wasn't even sure how he had gotten so far away from that cold, magnificent place. How had he found that stallion, that leader, and how had he entered that challenge? How, before, had he rescued the egg that he held now to his breast from nothing? And how, how had the little filly healed him with her gold and precious blood?
Ashamin had taken another night in the grove to steady himself and prepare for the journey home, but now he was ready. In his sleep, snow had begun to fall. And when he opened his eyes, he found the lids heavy with the white flakes that had gathered there. He stretched, his long tail lifting up from the frost and scattering flakes with it. After a moment, he reached down to nose the little egg, wrapped tight and warm in the cloth little Zahra had made for him. There, the small deer was safe.
And now that Ashamin himself was healed and the stiffening ache was leaving him, he was at last able to care for the creature. He smiled, his lips pressed against the shell. "I can't wait to meet you, little 'panion," he would murmur at night, and he murmured now, again. Whoever the creature inside was, whether he was the black deer he had seen in his vision or another, Ashamin awaited his hatching with bated breath.
The buck had only taking a few careful steps, testing his own strength as he walked along the shore of the grove lake, before he heard the sounds of another. Whinnies and the muffled sound of a gallop caught his attention, and his ears perked with interest. "Let's see who it is, little one," he spoke to the egg, beginning a slow trot as his words trailed off. His long tail, now scabbed in the place of its small injury, waved behind him and helped him keep his balance. He was healed, but not altogether patched; he still had some adjustment to do.
The treeline arrived like a tunnel to carry him home, and he entered the patches of snow-covered shadow beneath it with pleasure. It was good, Ashamin thought, to be headed North. Someday, perhaps when he was home, the little deer's egg would crack and break open, and he could show his new companion the life they could lead together. For now, he traveled only with its sleeping figure, small and locked within its orb.
But another figure soon appeared to keep him company. Or, perhaps he would do that for her. He met her whinny with one of his own--soft and subtle, gentle, but not altogether lacking confidence as usual. Something about his fight with Torleik, as battered as he had come from it, had given him confidence. He felt, in the wake of it, stronger. And meeting Zahra had reminded him, too, that innocence lay in others, and that he was no alone in his inexperience.
"Faith," he called out to the mare, the vocal greeting something he usually thought but rarely said. Ashamin carried his body closer to her, making out the unique manner of her appearance as he drew nearer.
As if being blue was not unique enough, the mare was a particularly special shade of blue: the brightest of blues, the blue of nature. Her darker points were signs that in her lay the genetics of something more natural like himself, but he could see only the unique way her coat showed stripes like it was water-struck, and the few scales beneath her bright eyes. Her tail was like his, if his had been beautiful--long and lion-like, but more magnificently plumed.
And she was a unicorn, too, and he noticed that right away. Was she of the Basin? He had seen only other unicorns there, and was beginning to think it was the only place they chose to reside. He shrugged off the thought, hoping he might learn later, and extended his cheek forward to touch in greeting as he closed the gap between them.
"I am Ashamin," the buck offered, feeling that to say anything else would be a waste of breath, to keep quiet a waste of the time that he had. "It is lovely to find another in this wood," Ashamin spoke. He was struck by the smooth tones in his voice and the easy way he spoke. What had that one spar done to him, other than tear up his leg? He cast a glance back at the injury now, noting the magnificently wretched scars. He could still picture them gaping and bloody, but they were now sealed and bright gold, just marks of a past hurt.
He wasn't to address the limp, so slight in his slow movements that it hardly pervaded his consciousness. He wasn't to think of his failures and how he had done this to himself, how he had frozen when he should have ran.
Ashamin was to think only of the lovely unfamiliar mare before him: the one with the striking white eyes and horn to contrast his black, haunting ones. She was his company now, and if he had the luck to have encountered another member of the Basin, perhaps she was his company home.
_______________
If it's confidence from injury then
bite me, let the blood flow!
I will learn from you the things
I never thought my father knew
I will bleed and bite and wander
home, to rise up, fast and true.
[[Tagged: Tiamat. Just so you know, I got approval to bring her back to the Herd Meeting where he's headed if you want them to go together :) ]]
(table by Tamme)
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead
06-13-2015, 11:49 PM (This post was last modified: 06-13-2015, 11:52 PM by Tiamat.)
As the blue mare had predicted, she doesn’t have to wait long. Carried along the crisp winter breeze, twirling and twisting, a whinny reaches her—a breath, an answer. Her dainty ears perking and head nodding once in excitement, she whinnies again (shorter and quieter this time, likely not to reach her dear stranger), but she is hardly able to restrain the anticipation that quivers every fiber of her supple body. Perhaps she should run forward, meet them sooner, but what if she loses her way again? No, she decides to stay put, assuming it will make it easier for her to be found.
“I’m going to go back home, mama,” Tiamat nearly squeals, so sure of it, her long tail unable to remain still in her excitement as it flutters over the powdered snow. There is a short gust of wind that rises, lifting a few flakes from the ground and carrying them in dancing spirals to the chilled air. Tiamat feels the sudden breeze circle around her, hears the high whistle as it breezes through the carved crevices of her horn, singing to her—to her soul. Taking this as an embrace from her mother sky (who certainly must feel as equally as excited as she), the unicorn’s delighted laughter peals out again into the frigid breeze.
It is on the same breeze that she hears a voice, a word. Faith. Her head spinning around to focus in the direction from where it had come from, her white eyes search eagerly, although it is a moment before she is able to distinguish a figure from the trees. With her lion-like tail twitching about her flanks, Tiamat walks towards him eagerly. There is not a second of hesitation when she reaches out to him, as he does to her, blue nostrils fluttering and white breath curling as she touches her nose to his.
He names himself Ashamin—and a curious creature he is (in a good way, of course). He is lanky, awkward, but definitely not distasteful—never distasteful—his body colored a standard black and white pattern, with eyes as dark as hers are light. His tail, reminiscent of her own, is impossibly long (impressive, if she might say), but her gaze is invariably drawn to the black horn that reaches down clear to the tip of his nose! It is knotted at his brow, contorting around some sort of gleaming stone. Tiamat has never seen such a horn before, and is awed by the uniqueness of it.
Overall, she finds him quite endearing.
“It certainly is! I’m glad you stumbled by. A pleasure to meet you, Ashamin,” she says genuinely, truly happy to see him, and the smile that has never left still lingers to soften her lips, “my name is Tiamat.” She gives a little curtsy of her head—because it is only polite—the windswept tendrils of her mane sweeping about her face as it rises to its natural position. She means to ask about the Aurora Basin, and the bulged sarong that hangs around his withers, but something else steals her attention first.
It is by the reflection of light from the white snow that she sees it, or them—the gold wounds that cleave his flank. For a moment, her own excited is overlooked. “Oh my, Ashamin, what—what happened?” She gasps, brow furrowing in worry as she moves to closer inspect the injuries. “What…?” She whispers, confused by the nature of the gilded gashes, but nevertheless concerned for his wellbeing. It is in a time like this, more than ever, that she wishes for the healing knowledge that she had sought so long ago. Perhaps then Ashamin would not have to suffer—because whether or not he is suffering doesn’t cross her mind. Tiamat would wish to help him either way, in any way she could.
notes;; okay! I'll pop her over there :D tag;; @[Ashamin] “Speech.”
The blue mare was a mysterious comfort to Ashamin, and he took her presence to be a good omen of sorts. She wasted no time in baring her kindness, and perhaps that genuine, good-hearted honest she seemed to wear upon her sleeve was all that Ashamin needed to relax.
When she touched him, though, he was surprised. Surprised at her swiftness, her lack of hesitation, and the softness of her bright cheek. It was not as cold as he had expected--was the winter or the watery color of her coat making her fear he'd have been rushed by a chill? No matter. The mare met his greeting and he let himself linger, not pulling away until the moment was right.
And when he did step back, it was not far. He had felt his whole body go slack at her mimicry of his motions, and he struggled now to tense his body again. After all, the weakness in his hindquarter was not served now by a looseness in the joints. The buck straightened his posture as if he held any position of power.
She spoke her name and his ears, broad and awkwardly curved, dipped forward to take in every beat of the song of her speech. Tiamat. It was a perfectly fitting name, Ashamin thought, for a mare as striking as this. Slowly he bent his neck low, pressing his patchwork lips to the thin shell of the egg, and whispered the mare's name: "Tiamat,". Someday, perhaps you will meet her, he thought to the egg.
But there was no stir or reply: the egg remained completely whole, asleep. So Ashamin lifted his arched features, catching a glimpse of a moment before the mare's expression turned, and spoke. "It is good to meet you too, Tiamat."
And he was about to speak once more, seemingly overflowing with confidence with this unborn beast against his breast, when the mare's tone turned for the worse. He saw the change in her as soon as he heard it. Ashamin had forgotten, for a moment, about the scars on his hind, but she made him remember them then.
He wasn't one to dwell or consider how long the limp they'd left him with might last. Not right now, when he was simply headed home. Ashamin smiled softly and kindly to the mare, speaking in cool tones that shook ever so slightly. His long tail arced forward, wrapping around the weak leg to grip it in a vise. "Just old wounds," he said, as if dismissive. "These golden streaks are scars I bear--evidence of past mistakes."
Curious, how much he was willing to share. He looked down, scraping the earth with his hooves, and let out a soft sigh. The journey home was long, but he would make it. And maybe, maybe with her at his side. He tried to brighten, and turned up his countenance with a smile. Yes, they were the same height, he knew it now for sure. His lips parted, the words tumbling out in a faint whinny. "But I won't let them stop me from being Northern bound for home."
And in the statement, veiled as he always was, there lay a question: will you follow me there?
_______________
[[Tagged: @[Tiamat]. Sorry for the delay and kinda crappiness and no poem, migraine and had to rewrite this entirely.]]
(table by Tamme)
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead
Tiamat’s worried eyes linger on Ashamin’s face, her blue brow knitted in concern that is as genuine as if they had been old friends. She would never wish harm or suffering on anyone—and one day, she promises to herself, she will be able to help them. To do much more than just offer her worry, comfort, and support, but to also be able to do something about it. To mend them, as that blood-bay stallion had done all those years ago. She does not want to feel as helpless as she does now, because while she will put all she can into her effort, Tiamat is afraid that—perhaps at some point—it might not be enough.
And to think that she can stand, unable to offer aid, unable to do anything, is terrifying to her.
One day. With the direction of her parents to guide her.
But today is not that day, and fortunately, it does not need to be that day. Ashamin assures the blue unicorn that the injuries are not fresh, explaining their golden quality is some sort of scar…scars of previous mistakes. “We all make mistakes,” Tiamat assures him gently, matter-of-factly, the soft smile returning to warm her lips—surely, a truer statement cannot be found. After all, she can’t imagine that it could have been something too terrible that resulted in such brightly gilded marks.
Curious, her white eyes flicker again to the stallion’s flank, watching as the long length of his tail curves forward to wrap around the wounded limb—seeming to act as a brace. The mare’s gaze widens in wonder—she’s never seen an equine creature do that before! How extraordinary. I wonder… Tilting one of her ears back in concentration, Tiamat arches her own lion-like tail, wrapping it forward so that it caresses one of her hind legs. It is not nearly as remarkable as Ashamin, but she is pleased with her effort. She giggles to herself at her antics.
“Well they look very impressive, Ashamin,” she continues, glancing to the golden gouges that streak his upper leg. Her chiming voice is light and airy with its reassurance, hoping that she hasn’t offended him with her sudden interest—now that she is convinced that neither Ashamin’s life nor his health is in danger, she quickly returns to her former up-beat self. Shifting her body so that she again stands to face the horned stallion directly, Tiamat nods happily when he explains that it won’t stop him from returning home—she admires his heart and nearly fails to catch exactly where home is.
Northern bound.
The blue mare’s features light up (if it is possible from the brightness they held before) with thoughts of the snowy valley, the mountains, her brother lake, and home. Her dainty ears perk in attention, poised on her new-found friend. “North?” She repeats, daring to be hopeful. “You wouldn’t happen to be referring to the Aurora Basin, would you?” Tiamat can’t help but smile in the anticipation while she waits for his answer, the gesture quiet as it hovers over her lips, bearing the promise of something more. Unknowingly, she holds her breath out of the eagerness that tingles over her entirely.
notes;; silly Jen -pets- I still loved it ;D tag;; @[Ashamin] “Speech.”
Tiamat's words conveyed a forgiveness of sorts--one that, from her, Ashamin was willing to accept. He was not sure he could forgive himself, not yet, but he felt a twisted swell of pride when she called his scars impressive, as if they are not simply bold markings of his shame and error. But she was right, Ashamin supposed. We all made mistakes. His, perhaps, a slightly more crippling one than most, but a mistake that many others had likely once made, too.
The painted stallion watched, amused, as she imitated his motion. The brushing of her tail against his legs was a sight even to see. He admired it's blue feather-duster plumage, so much more elegant than the small tuft he bore and the scratch above that. And when she shifted, so did he. He let his black eyes fall and look into the white ones she bore so intensely. What was it like to see through that sort of a clarity? Did they feel, to her, like the snow? Did they feel as they looked to him?
Ashamin let the thought fade. It was nothing he could understand, nothing other than an abstract idea of who the mare before him really was. Because she was certainly mysterious--he could tell just by looking at her. She was no ordinary creature, not with that look like she'd just walked out of the ocean and into his life, somehow, like a blessing on four delicate hooves. She was kind to him, and kind when she didn't have to be. This, he would not forget.
So when she mentioned the Aurora Basin with apparent excitement, his expression perked up as well. So she knew of his home, then? Was she of it, too? Ashamin smiled eagerly, his unraveling tail beginning to wave at his back with gentle, easy excitement that he struggled to control. "The Aurora Basin, yes," the buck answered hastily, trying to hide the obvious excitement from his awkwardly phrased reply. "Have you made it your home as well? It would be good," he said, trailing his gaze for a moment towards what he thought was North, "good to travel with another in such good spirits."
His questions, both the asked and the implied, were crisp--his eyes filled with a deep and hidden expectancy. He knew what he wanted the answer to be. Ashamin felt the pressure of his heart clenching against the tight grip of the white sarong, and for a second he thought he felt a second heartbeat there, too--the heartbeat of another life, one still yet to come.
_______________
If you'll have me
I will guide you
If you'll take this wound
I'll comfort you
Have this charm and
take my delight,
let me lead you home.
[[Tagged: @[Tiamat].]]
(table by Tamme)
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead
Tiamat wills herself to calm down—at least even a little bit (she knows as well as anyone that her excitement is far too rapturous to contain completely). But her heart is pounding like a drum against her ribcage, thudding so eagerly against the hollows of her chest that it resonates in the depth of her ears, and she fears that she will not be able to hear Ashamin’s answer. It is unreasonable, of course—illogical—but who could possibly be rational at a time like this?! The anticipation is nearly palpable as it swells within her, and she feels as though she might just burst from the buoyancy of it.
The blue mare’s smile seems to grow to mirror the one that spreads across the stallion’s lips, her white eyes dancing. When he confirms at last—because surely the seconds had been stretched into hours by the anticipation—that his destination is indeed the mountainous valley of the North, Tiamat can’t help but squeal in excitement. What a site they both must make! Both so eager, so enthusiastic, and yet both trying to suppress it to mere wiggles and smiles—how euphorically ridiculous they are!
So excited is she that she nearly glosses over the stallion’s implied invitation with her elation. “Yes!” Tiamat exclaims breathlessly and without hesitation, unwittingly answering both of his questions in one simple breath before taking a moment to work out which one to first answer properly (her brain is buzzing and wild with delight!) Pulling her thoughts together enough to form words and sentences, the ocean blue mare focuses her bright eyes on Ashamin’s face, using his friendly features as an anchor for her coherence. “Two is always better than one,” she beams, “I would be honored if you’d allow me to accompany you on your travels. I’ve been trying to find my way north—believe it or not—but I seem to have gotten myself quite turned around.” Her voice becomes a little sheepish, dainty ears splaying to the side (she’s not even positive where she is now), but it is only a breath before she perks up again.
“When I first came to Helovia—several years ago now—I settled happily in the Basin. I loved it there! Even through the journeys since that have forced me from its peaks, it has always been my home,” she smiles blissfully, a gentle exhale sighing from her nostrils, “It makes me happy to know it is still thriving.” A brief glance is cast upwards—to the white of her mother sky, now dressed in white satin from the wintry snow clouds. With the presence of her mother watching and the guidance of her father along his shores, she has never felt alone or forsaken. But Aurora Basin is something different, something distinct—it is home. Her parents want that for her, she knows.
Murmuring a breath of gratitude for her good fortune, Tiamat swells with excitement. At last! She will soon be home again; the thought is enough to make her want to leap and shout her joy to the heavens, but perhaps that should wait. Allowing her long lion-like tail to stretch and curl over the frosty snow behind her, the blue mare shifts her weight—more because of her bubbling enthusiasm than the cold that nips at her skin. “How long have you called the Basin home, Ashamin?” Her inquiry is one of eagerness and genuine curiosity, sincerely eager to learn both more about her new-found friend and their shared home.
notes;; sorry for the little wait! tag;; @[Ashamin] “Speech.”
Her excitement was contagious. Ashamin could not help but feel that he, too, was returning to the Basin after a long journey--a long time away. Perhaps, in some manner, he was. He looked at the egg caught in his cloth and lifted his tail to trace the lines of his own, new scars. Were they not marks of a changed stallion?
Was he not, in some way, changed?
Ashamin smiled consistently at Tiamat, trying not to reveal his wandering consciousness. She had a lot to say, and all of it was positive. It was refreshing, Ashamin thought with a nod to himself and a dipping of his nose to his chest and the little egg against it, to not have to worry for once about having to fill silence. He was a good listener, so let her talk: he would listen, faithfully.
He began to walk as if he knew where he was going (assuming he was headed North, in actuality strictly facing East like a directionless fool,) hoping Tiamat would follow. He didn't see a reason to beckon her verbally, not when a slow lope in her direction and a touch of his side to hers would do the trick. He frowned in disappointment to realize how slow he was on his feet, still. Hopefully that would change soon.
The buck allowed her to talk on until her speech became a query and the query was turned to him. He smiled at her asking, at her caring, and also at the memory of the answer she sought.
"Oh, not very long," the stallion said with a chuff of breath that struck the cold air and created a light puff. "But it feels like home already, nonetheless. Everywhere you turn there is someone new to meet--and always, someone kind."
It was true, from his experience at least. He had yet to encounter the less savory denizens of that frozen valley. Let it be a discovery for another time. "Come, this is the way," the stallion said with false confidence. Maybe it was the fact that she was so long gone and now returning with him, a new member, guiding her. Maybe it was the fact that he now bore two scars and felt required to have some sort of knowing bark with the mark of that bite. Maybe he was just a fool.
_______________
Whatever you say,
Whatever I do
We could be quiet
One could be two
Still I will listen
Still I will lead
into the East,
a foolish young steed
[[Tagged: @[Tiamat]. Sorry for the wait!]]
(table by Tamme)
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead
When Ashamin begins to walk away—presumably in the direction of the Aurora Basin—the blue unicorn doesn’t miss a beat in following after him. Pricking her dainty ears and flicking her leonine tail out behind her in excitement, she trudges through the snow (more like dances really, so great is her enthusiasm that it gives a vivacious bounce to her step). Snow is flung up merrily by her cloven hooves, rising to dissolve into the other flakes that drift slowly from her sister clouds, now white and pregnant with the icy precipitation of Frostfall.
Tiamat glances upwards to them, feeling joyful and triumphant, quickly blinking away the flakes that manage to catch on long lashes, some of them melting with the warmth of her wispy breath. Only when Ashamin’s voice reaches through the wintry air does the mare’s gaze—as pearly and glimmering as the landscape around them—lower to return to his kind features and gnarled horn that is ever so endearing.
Her smile widens, flashing white teeth delightfully as he speaks of their home—of the friendly faces there that are sure to greet them at their return. Tiamat is unsure if she will recognize anyone. She had only met a handful of individuals, and while she doesn’t know what has become of them in the years since, she can only hope for the best. In any case, the blue mare is thrilled to meet more people and make new friends (because there is not a doubt in her mind that she will do just that!)
Grinning happily to herself, Tiamat bounds to the side when Ashamin calls after her, a playful snort erupting from her nostrils in a white puff of air as she tosses her head, seashells chiming in the mass of her hair. “Kindness is good—and friends, friends are good too,” she says breathlessly, casting a sideways smile at the painted stallion, her eyes twinkling as though her mother has granted a pocket of light to rest in her gaze. “I can’t wait to be home,” the unicorn murmurs, her voice enraptured by the blissfulness of it all. At last! She will be home again!
“I’m fortunate to have come across you, Ashamin. Thank you for allowing me to journey with you,” Tiamat inclines her head to him in a gesture of gratitude—she can’t remember if she has already thanked him for his offer, but she figures it is far better to thank him twice than to not thank him at all. She appreciates his aid—and his company—far more than he likely realizes. Her grin lingers as her gaze leaves him, wandering through the snowy woods and what lies beyond.
notes;; sorry (again) for the wait and the uninspired post x_x tag;; @[Ashamin] “Speech.”
What was she, exactly? She seemed more nymph, more sylph, than unicorn. She was like a wave crashing down with the weight of a cloud.
She seemed, he thought as he walked by her side and listened to her soft tones, impossible. He wanted to ask her so many things, where she was from and how she had come here, both times, but could not bring himself to speak. He just nodded, each time, his head a bobble and his long tail a curious snake. It wove through the air as they headed wrongfully East. Ashamin's trot was slow and more like a fast walk, but Tiamat seemed too consumed with her own excitement to mind.
Several times the painted buck opened his mouth to speak to her, to say something. But each time he closed it softly, until the time when the scenery began to change and the sky started to darken. Time was passing, and he hadn't even realized it. Once he did, however, he kept expecting it to get colder and to feel the icy frost of the basin beneath his hooves. Ashamin forced himself to remember: days would have to pass before they would be home again.
His answer, then, as he looked up through the thinning trees at the darkening sky and felt taller grasses swiping across his hocks, was distracted. "Yes," he started, "home. It must be strange for you to be going there again, after having parted." Ashamin realized he didn't know how long she'd been gone. He didn't know, either, where she had come from and what she had been off doing. Had he been more outright, more bold, he might have asked.
But the Basin was familiar territory, even in conversation, and he found himself redirecting his speech there even as he watched the overhead canopy of light change. He wanted to ask her everything about herself, he wanted to learn, but he would settle for hearing a sliver of her past in that frozen valley. "What was your role in the Basin before you left, Tiamat?"
It was a simple question paired with a pregnant glance--his black eyes seeking her white ones. Would she understand his want to know more? Would she talk on, and on, and fill the silence of travel with her merriment for the hours to come?
_______________
If it grows darker by your side
so be it, for you shed more light
than the sky. Somewhere in your
deepest heart, I think you'll find
you once had territory, home and
grace: look here, stop still, let me
touch to that ancient part of you
[[Tagged: @[Tiamat]--not a great post, sorry for the delay. Just wanted to give you something.]]
(table by Tamme)
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead
As the ground passes steadily beneath their hooves, Tiamat is quick to fill the space between them with friendly chatter—conversation usually comes easily to her, especially in her excitement to return home and see the snowy mountains once again. (And besides, isn’t it nice to just talk sometimes?) But after a short while, silence falls comfortably between them, the blue mare in tune to the nature that is around them, pressing her muzzle every now and then gently to the bark of a tree.
Her head is lifted to her mother sky when she hears Ashamin’s low voice, one dainty ear flicking in his direction before her gaze follows, blue lids parting to reveal white eyes that settle on him with a warm intensity. Her lips purse softly at his observations, her brow knitting together in thought as she considers it. “In the most pleasant kind of strange, I suppose—like…like the kind of strange you get in your bones when you just have to dance!” Tiamat giggles delightedly, flinging up snow as she skips forward a few strides, the shells in her hair chiming as she tosses her head playfully. “Do you know that feeling?” She asks Ashamin blissfully, standing for a moment to wait until he’s at her side again.
For a short moment the sound of their hooves crunching into the powdery snow, mingling with the billows of their breaths, are the only sounds through the wintry forest. Frostfall’s white blanket seems to muffle other noises that would normally resonate against the wood, tucking them beneath its icy comforter in wait for the coming of spring. It leaves them with a heavy sort of silence—like a held breath.
The ocean mare marvels at the beauty of it. While she thoroughly enjoys the liveliness and brilliance of spring, winter has her own magnificence—bitter, icy, and harsh, but it is a necessary process that the earth must go through in order to cleanse itself.
Her shoulders expanding, Tiamat inhales deeply. The frigid air stings in her lungs, but she is far too excited at the moment to be bothered much by the cold. When Ashamin reaches her side again, he voices another question—one that brings a joyous smile to her lips. “Well I hadn’t been in the herd long enough to accomplish anything great, but I was a healer-in-training,” the unicorn chuckles to herself, and her buoyant smile softens to one of pleasure, “I would love to pursue that teaching again. It would be wonderful to know that I can help others—really help them, you know?”
Her gaze wanders a little bit in her musings. The ocean mare fears—dreads—the day that she will not be able to save, to assist, to mend. The very thought shakes her to her core and tightens her chest, so she doesn’t allow herself to linger on such terrors for long. It is a happy and marvelous day! She needn’t burden it with anxieties that are surely inconsequential right now. Tiamat returns her attention to Ashamin, her pretty features relaxing when she looks into his black gaze—dark and endless. “What about you, my friend? What role do you seek in the Basin?” She smiles softly, curious to learn more of her newfound companion in this long-awaited journey.
07-04-2015, 04:56 PM (This post was last modified: 07-04-2015, 04:56 PM by Ashamin.)
A S H A M I N Back on His Feet
Ashamin listened with focus and attention, his body beginning to sway with something like tiredness. But it was too early to stop, his leg and depleted energy be damned. He wasn't about to let down Tiamat, either, and she was so clearly looking forward to their destination. So was he. His heart fluttered, really, at the thought of being nearly frozen solid and stuck in a cave. Who wouldn’t want that life?
Then again, he'd yet to find and claim a cave... he glanced down at the egg. Clearly he'd have to find one, now.
The painted buck nickered a laugh when Tiamat spoke of dancing, and when she carried out the action herself. A part of him longed to join her--to be that carefree, and to be that happy to simply be a part of life. But then there was another part of him, a scarred part of him, that prevented him even from that physical of an expression of joy. He felt hindered by his own pursuits, the same ones Einarr and his father had led him to.
But he could not blame them for the consequences of his failures. Should he not have moved? It was his fault he struggled to walk a straight line now, his fault his path was woven with such uncertainty. And this was the same thing he grew terrified to admit as Tiamat continued and explained her former role.
She had been a healer. In training, but a healer nonetheless. Perhaps a mender, like Lena. One of kindness, and of aid. And what was he? She asked and he didn't know how to explain. Oh, yes, I'm a soldier but I've only been in one fight and it wasn't for defense or anything, really, just sort of got my butt stuck by a stranger because I was too scared of him to even run. And on top of that, I got hurt so bad a filly had to make herself bleed to save me. So that's why we have to walk so slowly to get home. Sorry about that. Aren't I brave?
No, it wouldn't work. He couldn't think of a way, not really. And the whole thought made his stomach churn, made him wonder if this was even a role he could do. He frowned, rare in his moments with her even already, and let his head lower and knock before his knees. The stone in his horn rattled; he felt hollow.
"My role?" He repeated the question, half stalling, half wondering why she cared. But of course she cared, and of course she was curious; she seemed that way about everything. "I guess you could say I'm still finding it," he responded weakly, not lying so much as failing to fully complete the truth. He was, still finding it, in a general sense. But he knew what he wanted to be, and wasn't that what she was really asking?
Still, he wouldn't tell. And as he struggled to quicken his pace, to catch up to the dancing mare and urge her homeward, he felt sourness inside him for that fact. "Come on," he said, his mind elsewhere, "we should try and press on, find somewhere safe before night catches up with us."
No, he wouldn't tell her. Not yet.
_______________
Call it a secret
I'll call it a shame.
This is my failure,
complete.
[[Tagged: @[*Tiamat]]]
(table by Tamme)
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead
Tiamat nods gently in encouragement, the gentle smile lingering along the curve of her lips. The shift in the painted stallion’s demeanor does not go unnoticed, but the blue mare doesn’t dwell on it. She had meant it as a harmless question, simply one of curiosity and friendship—the last thing she wants is for Ashamin to feel pressured to reveal…whatever it might be that is bothering him. So her white eyes shift from his face, as though to give him some sort of privacy in his thoughts, her spirits not dampened and as high as ever.
When the horned stallion does respond, it is feebler than his usual conversation—hesitant, almost. The ocean mare turns her face again, her gaze resting on him softly, unobtrusive and friendly more than anything. She will accept whatever he has to offer. She can respect that everyone has their secrets—and in any case, she can’t possibly imagine that Ashamin would hide anything that is truly damaging. Whatever his reasoning, Tiamat has no doubt that it is with good intentions. “There’s no harm in that,” she assures him, a crooked smile spreading across her features.
It isn’t long before Ashamin continues, ushering them forward and speaking of safety, shelter, and nightfall. The blue mare nods in agreement, trotting with high steps forward a few paces before she catches herself, flicking her long leonine tail out behind her and halting to wait for the stallion to catch up. She doesn’t mean to leave him behind, of course—but sometimes (more often than not) her bubbly excitement is just too much to contain in her dainty little body! Can you blame her for leaping, rushing, or dancing forward?
“And then soon,” Tiamat says when her friend is at her side again, “we will be home again!” The unicorn very nearly squeals in her enthusiasm, her body shuddering once from delight and her smile broadening happily. Striding forward at an extended walk, she closes her eyes, blissfully content, and lifts her face towards her mother sky. “Soon I will be there,”she breathes under her breath, the words sending a chill of anticipation through her bones. The day can’t come soon enough!
notes;; I think we can end it here, unless you want to reply again:) tag;; @[Ashamin] “Speech.”
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