"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.
While he does enjoy harboring the knowledge of having a home to return to, and familiar borders to protect him should some ungodly disaster happen, he can hardly fathom the thought of lingering in once place for an extended amount of time—weeks, bearable yes, but years?(A year?) No. Even during his years in Etherim, where he had grown up, he had roamed his father’s kingdom frequently. More than once he would not be found among the royal, echoing halls as his family called for him—having left to cavort with some new mystery (likely involving a filly).
They are all distant memories now—pushed away, forcibly locked into a dark, secreted place—but they still root something inherent within him. The desire, the need, to discover—to push the limits. To be entertained. The more he discovers about himself, the easier it is for Rohan to forgive himself for his betrayal. He is not a ruler, not yet—perhaps never. It is not for the sake of his father that he has warred inwardly with his decision, but for the sake of the people…for Iofiel.
It is better this way, he is sure now.
This certainty, while still unstable at times, grows steadily stronger—it is a fluctuating, slow, and haphazard climb, but still a climb. Today, as it stands for now, is one of his better days. With the whole of Helovia at his fingertips, a blank map just itching to be revealed, the Warlander is eager to explore what wilds this strange world will have to offer.
He finds himself wandering into the mouth of a gaping cave, his hooves thudding softly on the hard ground—what a relief it is to not trudge through a blanket of snow—and his eyes roaming every which way, trying to take it all in. Eventually he stumbles upon what seems to be a hole in the ground. Lowering his head, Rohan sniffs at it curiously, surprised to find that it is not stale dirt and decay that he finds. With hardly a hesitation in his gait, the antlered stallion steps forward, descending—because who wouldn’t want to wander down a mysterious hole in the ground?
The decline is much steeper than Rohan had anticipated, and he grunts as his legs stiffen, barely preventing him from tumbling down head first. Continuing a little more cautiously, he picks his way over the slippery rocks. Fluted ears prick inquisitively forward when he begins to feel heat, which gradually becomes more intense—during a warmer season, he might have turned back, but the warmth his welcomed as it relieves his chilled skin.
And besides, he is far too curious to turn back now.
When he reaches the bottom, the Warlander stops—it isn’t often that he is speechless (he is usually a rather vocal character), but the sight that lays before him is…well, he doesn’t exactly know how to describe it. Otherworldly.
notes; this is The Sanctuary cave! tag; @[Enna] “Speech.”
Something had re-kindled your wanderlust. For what seemed like forever you had been content to stay within the Basin, huddling and shivering near the copse of trees that you had claimed as your own, whether anyone else was aware of it or not, basking in the solitude that it brought along with it. It gave you time to think. About what, you didn’t even know. So many thoughts, tiny details that you could recall that refused to fit in to any of the memories that you couldn’t seem to let go of. Maybe it was the way that the snow had steadily piled up, beginning to become cumbersome to move through, or the frigid howling of the wind despite living in the shadow of a mountain. You didn’t know that, either, but you were happy for it whatever it was. You didn’t notice before but your legs had ached, tired with lack of use, and your heart had grown heavier than you remembered it being.
It hadn’t occurred to you, either, that it might be one of your last chances to escape for a little while before the possibility of being snowed-in. So you wandered, finding mostly everything covered in the same white, and nearly featureless, the cold following you wherever you went. It is only when you spot a boy, seemingly as restless as you, moving along the monotony that you pause, watching as he begins in the direction of a gaping hole.
"Hey!"
The single word is insistent, filled with a borderline worry as the boy made of sand slips in to the darkness that, for some reason, you had been so keen on him avoiding. You sigh with an exaggerated annoyance, your quick steps picking up in to a rush of movement that pauses on the edge of the abyss. As you listen and nothing echoes back but the scramble of rocks, your eyes peering uselessly in to the darkness, the hint of adventure creeps through your veins, all of the previous objections that you held slipping slowly through your fingers until it is too much to ignore and your slight body tumbles carelessly after him.
"I was talKIOHHH" You begin coherently at first, but you, like him, do not expect the slope to be so steep and as a rock slips from under a dainty hoof, gravity catches you by surprise, throwing your words in to a blurring, sharp holler and you along with it. It is only seconds that you fall, skittering and rolling along the slope of rocks and mud and filth, but it easily feels infinitely longer, and as you come to a final crash against a hard surface amidst the heat and strange light and him you groan, picking yourself up without regard to the possibility of anything being hurt from your idiocy, alabaster locks tangled with mud and likely twigs, the rich brown of your skin probably a little lackluster now.
Your cheeks glow red-hot as the orange liquid pouring from the ceiling, heat emanating from it with a ferocity you never knew. "It’s beautiful, isn’t it?" You whisper, an apologetic smile creasing along your lips, trying to cover for the no doubt endless amount of noise you had made just seconds before.
Yeah, as if you could.
* mhmmm, this definitely fell apart. Dx I APOLOGIZE AGAIN.
@[Rohan]
please tag enna in every post
violence permitted barring permanent injury / death
Rohan
In his childhood, Rohan would often dream of the faraway places that stretched beyond Etherim’s borders. His mind would conjure many wonderful, fantastical things—but even in his wildest imagination, he would never have fantasized of something quite like this. As if an underground cave isn’t exciting enough, it is lit by the warm glow of lava—surging mightily from one wall to light the large cavern. He marvels at the way the red colors dance through the crystal wall that rises as a glassy barrier, distorting the image just enough to seem…magical. It is fascinating.
So engrossed is the stallion that he nearly misses the echoing jumble of words that warbles through the rocky tunnel behind him. One fluted ear flicks back at the sudden sound, but it takes a moment for his head to follow—the movement encouraged by the resounding of unsteady steps that ensues. Rohan tilts his head to the side, caramel brow furrowing in something of curiosity and confusion, and he begins to shift his hairy body to meet this bizarre stranger directly. What he certainly does not expect is for the figure to coming tumbling at him. He is just able to make out movement in the dimness, but by the time he realizes the speed and erraticism of the body, it is too late to react properly.
Pinning his ears against the back of his neck, Rohan whips his body around, attempting to remove himself from the line of fire, but all too soon something collides into his backend. With dark lips twisting into the snarl of a groan, he stumbles with the stranger along the stony surface. The Warlander steadies himself quickly, shaking the dust and rocks that have caught in his winter coat, whipping his tail sharply about his flanks as he turns to see just what kind of character would have such audacity—
What he sees is not what he had anticipated. It is a petite mare, much smaller and daintier than his own lean bulk, with a build that nearly borders undernourished. She has a pair of antlers protruding from her brow, although they are not as mighty as his own. Her skin is a soft brown, contrasting vividly to the paleness of her hair. Sizing her up, Rohan quickly comes to the conclusion that she must have reached a considerable speed to move him as she did—fortunately, he doesn’t see the promise of bruises in the future.
Exhaling from his nostrils in a huff, the Warlander doesn’t respond right away to her sheepish comment, his green eyes weighing heavily. He notes the repentant curve of her lips, and her general lack of bulk, which finally leads him to concede that her rear-end fender-bender was merely a mistake. Even so, he can’t let her off so easily. “I assure you that a simple hello would have sufficed,” he drawls sarcastically, still a little miffed, his pride momentarily wounded. It isn’t everyday he gets knocked over by a woman. Pursing his lips as he shifts his weight, Rohan faces the cascade of flowing lava once more, his gaze flickering occasionally to the petite mare. “Yes…it is. I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” he murmurs, the light of the crystals reflecting across his face.
"I'MSORRYIMSORRY-" It is a jumble of words, of movements as you both scramble to your feet, hinting at the laughter that sits in the back of your throat, something in his gaze the only thing holding it back. You swallow hard, your eyes darting to everywhere but the deep, deep green of his as he continues to look at you. It is only then, with wide eyes, that you realize that even though you didn't really hurt yourself, maybe you had hurt him. "Are you okay?" It is a breath, quick to be forced out though laced with concern as your eyes sweep over his body, much larger than yours, lighter in tone and handsomely muscled.
For a moment you linger on the wonder of just how you managed to knock him over, and all you can do is sigh, glance at those eyes of his, to swallow whatever humor it was that you found in that.
'I assure you a simple hello would have sufficed.'
Your cheeks burn even hotter than before and you shift in place, your smile growing larger still as he turns from you. Your gaze follows his, momentarily resting on the brilliance of the orange and red dancing before the both of you as you come to another still near his shoulder, the heat radiating from his body, your sudden closeness, a thousand times hotter than the sun. You inhale sharply against it, your spine trembling with an excitement you hadn't known before, and it is intoxicating. It pulls you in, forms an ache that reaches to the marrow of your bones, the urge to touch him, explore whatever this is almost too much to deny; the mere thought of his flesh against you enough for you to almost lose yourself.
That realization in itself is enough to frighten you, and it is only now that you are too nervous to hold it in that you laugh, breathless, side-stepping away from the man of sand, eyes of sea and earth glued to the outline of his masculine face.
"Then let me try again?" Again your lips fold into a half smile, your mind still swimming with a clouded heat. "Hello. I'm sorry that I fell and knocked you over. I'm Enna." Another laugh, more sure than the one that came before. "Who are you? And what possessed you to just jump down a hole in the first place?"
@[Rohan]♥
please tag enna in every post
violence permitted barring permanent injury / death
Rohan
There are a few moments of silence that pass between them then. Rohan focuses his green eyes on the warm orange of the lava, intent on the ember haze that is distorted from behind the crystal wall—perhaps allowing his attention to become lost to the glowing cascade. Still, one fluted ear tilts towards the slender mare when he hears her hooves shuffling against the rough ground, the heat of her body radiating with his own as she stands at his shoulder. The Warlander considers a glance, but his pride has him staring as before, the hums and thuds of movement painting their picture for him.
But then she laughs. Puckering his lips, he tilts his head, muscles in his neck flexing as he spares his gaze. Rohan eyes the chocolate mare curiously, his eyes narrowing. What could she possibly be laughing about? Is she laughing at him? The thought has him flattening his ears and whisking his tail indignantly (such is the manner of a creature riddled with testosterone and arrogance). But fortunately his thoughts don’t linger there for long. Their situation, their meeting, has not been particularly normal. On any other day, Rohan would go swaggering up to a pretty lass such as this, likely sweeping her off her feet with all his charm and grandeur—or that’s what he would like to think (and why shouldn’t he?!)
Huffing heavily through his nose, the Warlander surrenders to a short chuckle, rather amused himself at their very…unconventional circumstance (wounded pride aside). It isn’t every day a woman goes to the trouble of quite literally knocking him over in the effort to gain his attentions—a view of the situation that has him feeling much better. Yes, it will suit him well.
Consoled, his eyes are gleaming in their usual mischief again and there is a softer ruggedness to his features. Now the antlered stallion listens to the lady’s second attempt at an introduction. His laughter rumbles from his chest again, far more broad and genuine than before. “There are not many second chances in life, my dear Enna; but I suppose it would be better for the both of us if fortune were to be so gracious today,” he muses, as though the chance is his to give (and is it not? He could very well turn her away and send her skittering back up just as ungracefully she had come, but alas—his heart is too fond of beauty to let her go just yet).
“My name is Rohan,” he continues with a crooked smirk, “and I don’t recall doing any jumping. Cavorting? Discovering? Gallivanting? Just maybe.” He laughs dryly, amused by his own humor. Shaking his head, he removes the length of his forelock from his eyes, gazing at the petite mare with an amusing intensity. “And did you not follow me?” He poses, one side of his brow rising, his single question holding a double-edge inquiry. Could she not answer her own question, then?
06-24-2015, 03:04 PM (This post was last modified: 07-15-2015, 05:16 PM by Enna.)
something filled up my heart with nothing
'There are not many second chances in life, my dear Enna; but I suppose it would be better for the both of us if fortune were to be so gracious today.' The wisdom in those words is lost on you, your mind, your heart, too young to know the truth behind them. Before you can think too much, the baritone of his voice grabs your attention once more. Rohan (which your mind instantly shortens to Rori, a secret smile forming at the clearly ingenious nickname) he says, the introduction out of place just as yours had been, and he corrects your assumption that he had jumped, clearly amused with something.
“Technicalities. We are here either way, are we not?”
You laugh with him all the same, mirroring his gaze but with less of a searing focus. It is under those green eyes that you begin to wither again, your heart fluttering wildly. ‘And did you not follow me?’ It had been so painfully obvious to you why you had followed him, it hadn’t even dawned on you that your motives may have been in question to the sandstone man. “I followed you to make sure you were okay.” A simple shrug and your eyes wander again to the flowing liquid. “I couldn’t in all good consciousness just let the earth swallow someone without posing to ask a single question, especially not someone so fetching as you."
Smiling yet again, you watch him out of the corner of your eye, trying to be subtle about gauging his reaction, your stomach fidgeting in knots. You, of course, would have followed anyone, your sense of concern and thirst for knowledge too great to simply swallow and move on. "Anyways, I didn't have any clue this place existed; I'm glad for your adventurous heart."
@[Rohan]
sorry about this. my muse kinda... hid behind a rock and died after having to restart this a few times. ;-;
please tag enna in every post
violence permitted barring permanent injury / death
At the brown mare’s initial observation, the Warlander doesn’t give a voiced reply, merely shrugging the strong mass of his shoulders and giving a short grunt at the back of his throat. She is not wrong, of course, but it is a statement that he sees no point in responding to—a dying topic. The brightness of his green eyes shift, narrowing as he considers their short moment of silence. The flaming, warm light of the flowing lava catches the thin ends of his pale hair, the rugged curves of his body, and framing them in a red-orange glow that highlights and sharpens his features.
When Enna continues, explaining herself in an explanation that he had nearly forgotten he’d requested, he doesn’t seem to hear her at first. His face doesn’t tilt towards her, his eyes don’t move from the cascading magma—an ear rotates in her direction, but there is nothing more until her clarification draws to a close—certain words snagging at his attention and forcing reaction into the stillness of his frame. Only then does the antlered stallion move, the muscles in his neck contracting as his handsome head shifts to look down at her, the glowing reflection of the fiery waterfall casting a certain mischief into the light of his gaze.
“Why Enna, are you flirting with me?” Rohan’s deep voice rumbles into the warm space between them, an entertained smirk twisting at the dark brown of his lips. His tone suggests sarcasm, although there is a pleasure in his expression that somehow manages to soften the worst of his mockery, his pride too great to resist the whims of seducing (however playful or inexperienced they might be). Shifting his weight so that he is angled towards her and his smirk deepening, the Warlander continues his impish taunts. “Please my dear—there is no need to mask your affections with your concern for others, your passion alone might very well be received. You don’t need to play such tricks with me.”
The antlered stallion gives her a clever wink, a deep chuckle broadening from his large chest and he shakes his head, his unruly forelock tangling in the lower points of his antlers. Rohan has no intention of allowing this particular path to slip and disappear, but his demeanor sobers a little when the mare’s awe shifts to the wonderment that surrounds them.
He gives a single nod in agreement to the unspoken admiration in her voice, his green eyes trailing briefly to the stone walls, crystal barrier, and flowing lava before returning to the dainty lines of Enna’s face. “It has done well for me in the past,” he murmurs, nearly to himself. For a second his thoughts are threatened to be twisted in his history, memories and feelings rising to capture him in their sticky web, but the risk is scattered when his crooked grin slowly returns. “Brought me someone as fetching as yourself for instance,” he teases her, his head lowering and tilting to the side in an almost accusatory manner, “even if you did make an unnecessarily grand entrance, I might add.” He narrows his eyes before rolling them dramatically.
notes; FINALLY yay! Sorry for the wait x_x tag; @[Enna] “Speech.”
07-21-2015, 03:19 AM (This post was last modified: 07-21-2015, 03:29 AM by Enna.)
something filled up my heart with nothing
For a little while the both of you are still, your faces unwavering from the warmth of the molten liquid. It is in this silence that you begin to think he did not hear you, and while any other time you may have felt slighted, a distinct sense of relief pulses through your heart. But, like your humor had been crushed by his stare, so too are your fledgling hopes. ‘Why Enna, are you flirting with me?’ His sarcasm is indeed lost on you. Your juvenile attempt at straight up flirting was simply that painfully obvious, and the more you think about it the more you want to cringe, to turn your little butt around and hightail it from this cave, him and the strangeness he has awoken in you, the hold of his stare. But you do not; your knees too wobbly and your legs weighted with stone, your worries turning to ash because of that fucking smile.
“Flirting? Mm, maybe, though I hardly think you can blame me.” Your voice is braver than you had expected it to be, for you do not feel very brave at all. Small, confused, a little shallow and slightly amused, perhaps, but not brave. His words offer respite from your insecurities and you take it gladly, your lips curling easily into a smirk mirroring that of his own. “Why Rohan, are you accusing me of deceit?” His wink, that chuckle, is met with a feigned indignity, your eyes narrowing and mouth tightening against your smile. That is the end of your defense, however, and you let him believe what he will, nearly preferring that he think of himself as something special, that you would not do the same for anyone else. Even you do not fully understand your complacency, but you shrug, concluding that it does not actually matter what he thinks, about you or about what you would or wouldn’t do. It had all just been a joke, why should this be any more serious than the rest of it?
‘—As fetching as yourself for instance,’ Another jest, and yet as he croons his head you cannot help the way your heart leaps, your body igniting in waves once more, your head (and hormones) in a whirl. It isn’t like you, you had never cared about boys before; for the stupid way that they did things, or how they thought about you or the way that they looked, or all the silly ways they would try to impress anyone or anything that would give them so much as a glance. And yet… a perfect stranger that has only made jokes mostly at your expense despite your obvious part in it, here you are swooning. Suddenly the thought of growing up is terrifying, and you quiver against the warmth of the cave, but there is no escaping it, and, and…
Your eyes swoop upwards to meet his again, rushed with a sense of desperateness that you somehow hope to find an answer to within the calmness of his. But he is off, rolling his eyes at the mention of your gracelessness. It allows you a moment to breathe, his lightheartedness releasing the choke-hold discomfort that had begun to settle in your bones. You do not suppose he has any idea, and for that, at least, you are thankful. It is in this moment that you think; trying to convince yourself that you will just have to deal with it as it comes. You scrunch your face, moving your lips and nodding your head side to side in mockery, much like a disrespectful child would when scolded, but it is in jest as you try your best to immerse yourself back in to him. You roll your eyes in return as you still, the budding, fragile happiness returning to your grin. “I try. It’s nice to know my efforts aren’t completely in vain.” You laugh then, in part at your own embarrassment and in part at his reaction to it all, the situation you, in a rather rare moment of utter clumsiness, have created.
You are indeed taken by this sandstone man and his smile, his laugh, the weight behind those green, green eyes, and captivated by the thought of all the mysteries they could hide. All joking aside, you are happy with your decision to follow him, despite your stupid girlishness kicking in. This, however, you find better to keep to yourself, all too conscious of the rebuttal you would likely receive. At that thought you quiet, catching his gaze as the humor drains from your face slowly, brows furrowing as you trace the well thought out lines of his own boyish façade. You are sure now that there are secrets that he has swallowed, and though you suppose everyone has at least a skeleton or two, your brows furrow all the same.
“Will you tell me something about yourself? Anything?”
@[Rohan]
odearsweetbabyjesusonabike, i wrote you a novel. .____.
i'm sure some of this doesn't make sense AND I APOLOGIZE FOR IT BUT ITS LIKE SUPER LATE AND IM SUPER TIRED AND SICK OF LOOKING AT THIS WALL OF TEXT. jk its only 130 but it feels like 4
she also has a mini freakout mode about liking the opposite sex, rofl.
also, i thought his whole 'its done well in the past' would be overlooked by her, seeing as she was distracted and it was quiet in the first place. i hope you don't mind?
that being said, ilu and i hope this is at least reply-able c:
please tag enna in every post
violence permitted barring permanent injury / death
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![[Image: 57c5195f31f1b_by_relibelli-db9li1z.png]](http://orig06.deviantart.net/bb9e/f/2017/138/7/1/57c5195f31f1b_by_relibelli-db9li1z.png)
