"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.
08-17-2015, 04:09 PM (This post was last modified: 08-17-2015, 04:14 PM by Lena.)
Another turn of the clock led them into Birdsong, the bewitching, spellbinding season cast aloft for growth, for renewal, for bounding steps of spring birds and deer, for the wispy, cordial flights of fancy, for the whimsical charades of yesteryear and new beginnings. Where hope sprung, Lena awakened, brightening and prospering from the blissful stretch of sun, by the hardy, jovial breeze, by the rush of weather not tied into torments or hazardous plunges. Alive and anointed, the nymph and her fellow kitsune danced through the edges of winter, amidst its last, remaining vestiges, bound by sunshine, roses, and the consuming bout of laurels, of airy, ethereal sentiments. They were part of the shades of light glittering off the horizon, driven into shade and abyss, murmuring sweet nothings into the haze of luminescent fixtures, crooning, fluttering, flying, wishing and dreaming, until everything was harmony and mellifluousness. On each stride the laureled dreamer harkened for her friends, for her companions, for her fellow menders, a burst of color, a flare of song varnished in the heavenly glow of spring: poetry in motion. They could all be floating elation, driven from their hollowed holes and their vacant lofts, from the woebegone woods and the empty groves, aiming for a crescendo of goodwill and overwhelming depths. She rustled with power, with diligence, with perseverance, a queen of fairies and glee, laughing on each elegant maneuver, giggling on the tender art of their impending conquests. When they drove past the shards of snow and the rise of the sentinels, the pair drifted away from the icy borders, along the stretch of hills and valleys, clambering across pebbles and pathways, struck by the notion, by the carefree exultation, of a proper canvas and an exultant tapestry. Like art, like paintings, they flourished on a virtuous brushstroke, and Lena dove into the ravines, into the grasslands, into the skyward beneficence with tranquil promises and tender serenity; her body flaring, incensed, beyond the lissome collection of hooves against stone – there, beyond the clearing, she strung taffeta and lace, tied potency and satin, and meandered to a relaxed pose, ceasing motion except for the flicker of her ears, for the spark of her eyes. Beyond them lay the Heavenly Fields: a bounty like no other. There, within its nestled fancies and its sanguine spirit, drifted silent gifts and hushed grandeur, pearls of wisdom, musings of the sagacious. Slowly, tenderly, blooming from the ground were a wide range of herbs, of plants, of flora meant to either aid life or hinder it; they’d require both for their empire. At last, she composed a long, lingering sigh, built and fueled on happiness, on regality, on poise and absolution, taking a cool breath and soaking in the scent of so many petals, so many blossoms, so many opportunities waiting for them. Her gaze swept to each of her followers, and on a broad, enveloping grin, she prospered them with their task. “Today, we’ll be gathering herbs! I’m hoping we can take back as many as possible, for our future herb garden, for drying in the caves, and impending visits to other herds.” Radiant, lustrous, ablaze, her heart endowed with gilded treasure and prosperous delights, she sent them away, into the fields to frolic. “Let any of us know if there’s something you’re unsure of, or if you want more information on a plant.” Then she winked, ensued a challenge. “Good luck!”
[Herb gathering thread! Tagged healers and those already interested. I'll be leaving this open to anyone else as well. ^_^ No post order. Keep it moving! ;D]
Bitter Frostfall was finally pushed out of our lands with an all mighty shove by the sweet songs of the birds. But Frostfall has left traces of her self behind; as if unwilling to let us forget so easily her existence, a grim reminder that she will return. Birds joyfully sound their trumpets to usher in the season of life. I suppose there was not much originality in the naming of the season that births green. Birdsong is upon us finally. With it comes the racing pulse of the season.
I have put my nose into business I know nothing of. The mare before me is not one I would guess to be any older than I, but her knowledge is beyond her years; or at least leagues ahead of my own. I prefer the thought that she is merely wise for her age, why would I wish to be outdone by another?
Today is a day of herb gathering. Our healer, the Time Mender, challenges us. Oh how I wish to impress her. She is of rank and of good standing. The Time Mender could help me climb ranks if I land myself in her good favor.
The knowledge pertaining to the herbs interests me. From these plants one can derive the ability to aid life or to lay waste; one can throw on the cloak of the grim reaper or bestow the gift of a god. It is another language that lies before me. Perhaps I can learn more of it than what I manage to speak of my current tongue. A good natured, self mocking grin lounges on my face.
"I am unsure as to what excites me more," I weave my words together with charm, "the possibilities of what is to be learned today or the chance of seeing your breathtaking smile, Lena." Birdsong flits through my being and drags my flirtatious nature from my typically quiet lips. I have not spoken with the time mender personally prior to this but I have heard her name mentioned. And there is no missing her simple beauty.
In my time I have witnessed the abundance of exotic beauty that Helovia has to offer. The land is a diverse one that is filled with enough potential to drive a stallion mad. But Lena, she catches my eyes with her own. Deep brown pools filled with intelligence. What is a mare, or anyone at all really, without a good head on their shoulders?
"What is your favorite herb here? And what is its use?" Eyes downcast at the plants at my hooves I wonder what her answer will be. I am amazed that the same thing an insect feasts upon could aid or destroy the mightiest of warriors.
08-20-2015, 03:10 PM (This post was last modified: 08-20-2015, 03:11 PM by Tiamat.)
The arrival of Birdsong comes like a sigh of relief to Helovia, relaxing its shoulders and allowing the ice and cold of winter to give way to new and better things—a fresh beginning, a second chance. While she understands that Frostfall plays a necessary role in the cycle of life, giving the earth a rest and cleansing it for an unspoiled foundation (and being undoubtedly breathtaking in its pristine canvas), the blue mare cannot deny that spring is her favorite season.
So full of life!
Nature blooms and sings all around her, budding with greenery and flourishing with the promise of vitality, and she hears the happiness of nature’s chorus with eager ears. Flocks of birds fly overhead, releasing the pealing carols of their joyous melodies, gliding and awakening the earth below them that rouses slowly from beneath its frozen blanket. Little fauna stirs out of the shadows, blinking from the hollows of their dens and greeting the fresh taste of warmth with happy sighs. Her family blossoms, the trees arising with the skirt of their undergrowth—she can see them glowing with delight, and it fills her soul with swells of glee, so much so that she feels as if she could burst!
Oh, how she could fly, her steps buoyant and bright as she trails along. Their little gathering departs from their snowy mountain valley—just beginning to thaw beneath the sun’s vibrant hand—to converge towards lands that are yet unfamiliar to the young unicorn. Upwards they climb, long tendrils of grass poking through the last ice of snow to brush their legs, the thinning air testing the strength of their lungs (surely a struggle for anyone not accustomed to the altitude of the mountains) until at last they reach their summit.
The wide flat fields, still frosted by the white of winter, opens with a flourish before them. The greenery lies abundant, flowering in new growth, rousing awe into her bright expression. At her friend’s euphonic voice, Tiamat looks to the brown mare, the smile broadening joyfully across blue lips. The ocean mare’s heart skips with the desire for knowledge, singing at the action of actually doing—learning, reaching, and growing towards her aspirations that have bloomed for years.
At last, she journeys ever closer to that which her heart desires most.
Breathing happily, her eyes turn to an unfamiliar (a fact she hopes to remedy) stallion when he speaks, praising the bay mare with flowering compliments. It makes Tiamat’s smile warm kindly, and she casts an encouraging glance to her friend. “They are both promising fortunes,” there is laughter in her voice and light in her eyes, turning then to the stallion, “it is a beautiful day, I imagine there will be much to bless us.” She flicks her plumed leonine tail playfully, her spirits soaring with the bliss and contentment of spring. It is as though nature’s joy reaches her, she can feel it, lifting her with its delight and glowing within her soul. Smiling, she reaches to the mahogany-crested stallion, hoping to exchange breaths in a friendly gesture, “My name is Tiamat, by the way.”
08-20-2015, 04:53 PM (This post was last modified: 08-20-2015, 04:54 PM by Enna.)
It is pleasant, this little journey, and you find yourself taking the blue mare’s lead – practically prancing your way along next to her. Even the climb up the mountain doesn’t seem so bad, and despite a huff at the top of it expelling from your lungs, you are otherwise unfazed. Mismatched eyes glance across the plateau of new life and you giggle, excited for the snow to finally be leaving. After all this time of wanting to experience it, to get away from the summer heat by doing something besides jumping in the ocean at every chance, you are ready for a change of pace.
So – perfectly pleasant, that is, until: ‘I am unsure as to what excites me more, the possibilities of what is to be learned today or the chance of seeing your breathtaking smile, Lena.’ Ugh, did he seriously just hit on her? You roll your eyes, nearly rising in defense of your mentor when the ocean mare finds it necessary to encourage him. For a moment you do nothing but stare at her, uncertain of why she would find his behavior forthcoming at all. You wonder then if it always sounds so utterly cheesy when the attention is directed at you, but thinking back to the sandstone man you can only grin, finding his subtleties (despite the fact that you had started it) much more alluring.
It is easy then to relinquish the brief discomfort this boy had brought on, leaving Lena to decide for herself how she felt about it, spinning suddenly with a signature grace ahead of the group and into uncharted territories to find out for yourself just what this place in the clouds has to offer.
idk what this is?
anyway. someone might be a little jelly. XD @Ashamin
please tag enna in every post
violence permitted barring permanent injury / death
08-23-2015, 06:20 AM (This post was last modified: 08-23-2015, 06:23 AM by NPC.)
Someone else is in the heavenly fields, lurking in the shadows and wholly unimpressed by these jealous squabbles and awkward interactions...
IT IS I, VICTOR THE MEDDLING FLY TRAP, FROM VENUS OR MAYBE MARS!
(Or maybe just that pond by the fields)
You see, I had the faintest tickling in my throat. That was where it started. Something unexpected flew into the scope of my magnificent jaws, and being hungry as I was I snapped down those magnificent leafy teeth without a mere glance at the thing. And what would you know, it wasn't even a fly. How absurd, it is, for a fly trap to eat something other than a fly!
Perhaps you've heard differently, and that any bug will do. BUT NOT FOR VICTOR, I SAY! No, only the purest diet of grain fed flies for me. Occasionally one that's been bothering a horse, well, that is a treat. Which is why I've even come to this realm, you see--for the horses. They make an awful stink and the flies just love picking at them throughout the day. Thankfully Birdsong is back and so too is the overwhelming stench of dung, ready to attract flies. Delicious, tasty flies...
But I digress. I had snapped down upon something I thought was a fly but clearly could not have been, for it lodged itself in my throat. At this point I called upon my neighbor, a wolf mother who was rather lonesome now that her pups had grown and left her, and insisted she carry me to somewhere that I could be helped.
Note that though Minerva is a wonderful neighbor, she does not have the delicacy acquired to remove such obstruction. Visiting her and expecting to not get senselessly gnawed upon to cure the nausea of fading motherhood is a miracle enough, I wouldn't then ask her to fix my problem.
But, she was obedient, if not dumb. And so with my roots clinging to the fur at the base of her scruff I pressed her onwards until I found a small gathering of horses, apparently healers, and settled to watch from the shadows.
Sadly, whatever it was that I swallowed had given me such a horrible cough! And just as those four settled down their chatter, I let out the loudest whooping one you ever did hear. I'm afraid it gave me away!
Lena should have learned long ago not to have expectations towards herb gatherings. Some had been ignored and taken to just herself, wandering across vast plains and holy valleys in search of potential ways to soothe those who never realized she existed. Another had been promising success, only to be riddled with wraiths and phantoms (Kahlua, ravaged and dangerous, two words that should have never described a friend – smoldering, wild, chasing and rampaging and demented-). This one held illustrious assurance, because there were so many wonderful beacons within their empire now, and she wasn’t alone in the quest for salvation, for sanctum, for absolute belief in their tasks, soothing the fallen, helping the damned, believing, believing, believing the world could still be healed. But then again, she hadn’t yet met Demothi. As he approached, she was sure his heart was in the right place, a newcomer with their matching ideals, with their winsome graces and their affectionate zeal for life, but the indulgent, charismatic grin crossing over his features set her immediately on edge – and she truly couldn’t understand why. She became a little more rigid, her eyes no longer glancing on plants, but upon him and wondering what he reminded her of (a cat who’d eaten a canary, a wolf in sheep’s clothing?). The words, sparking across the void, sharp enough Lena presumed everyone could hear, and suddenly all eyes were on her, drove her into such a balm of discomfort that at first she wasn’t sure what to do. She’d received compliments before, and she wasn’t conformed to a prig or prudish nature, but something felt entirely off and disassembling (because his coat wasn’t golden and his title wasn’t a brigand, because he didn’t know her at all?). Imogen growled amidst their connection, but Lena dismissed it – she could handle the situation without the need for the kitsune’s intervention. The sense of foreboding pricked against her spine, and she laced her defense with the same brilliant smile he’d commented upon, calling upon serenity, tranquility, and boldness to kindle her defiance, her deflection. “Alas, I would hate to distract you from your work, Demothi.” She slid, she slithered, away from him, putting distance and diversions between them, sifting through grass a few yards to the left (pausing to glance at Enna for a few moments, her eyes widened, her brows arched, a shrug to her shoulders and a shake to her head), calling out to him in a careless array. “Oh, I don’t have a favorite yet – all of them are so useful.” The femme almost anointed Tiamat with another toss of her cranium, not wishing to grant encouragement, not seeking any more attention from anyone else, but a strange, unfamiliar noise beckoned her senses instead. It sounded like a cough – loud and raucous, and the Songbird lifted her head from the leaves of some yarrow, inclining and rotating her ears towards the sound. Had any of her fellow healers been ailing? Her inspection of their frames told her otherwise, and the delving of curiosity flooded through her sentiments – so much so that Imogen rambled ahead, following the reverberation of the commotion, ivory tails sticking through tall blades, and Lena contorted her own path at an ardent walk. To find a wolf, with a plant on their back, had not been imagined, surmised, or predicted, but the nymph had learned to accept those things by now. Instead of laughing, or giggling at the strange scene, she lowered her head towards the wolf, and the intriguing flytrap (what a useful plant!), and prospered gentle, nurturing tones, though she wasn’t sure who required their assistance (the canine for carrying the plant, or the plant for some pressing reason). “How may we help you?”
09-03-2015, 05:07 AM (This post was last modified: 09-03-2015, 05:08 AM by Tiamat.
Edit Reason: fixing tags
)
Perhaps it is her childlike innocence, the veil over her eyes and mind that can only perceive the good and just in this world, but the ocean mare’s heart does not stutter and blister like the other mares’ with the stallion’s flirting. The words are compliments in her ears—a flourishing, if not a bit extravagant, bit of praise—and in all honesty, she couldn’t agree more with him (even if their intentions are far from parallel, as she would like to think). Tiamat thoroughly enjoys the company of the bay mare, and cherishes her tutoring. To assume that others would feel the same only makes sense.
Even so, the Time Mender’s discomfort—the lowering of her eyes, the stiffening of her shoulders, and the constriction of her lips—is something that the ocean mare does not miss. Fluted ears prick forward before shifting backwards in her moment of confusion, the sway of her stride faltering for the briefest of seconds as she hesitates, white eyes flickering between the bay mare and the mahogany-shaded stallion. Tiamat does not understand why Lena would be so bothered—unaware of the affection that already blooms within her breast, unaware of the intentions such words might bring—but she doesn’t need explanations for her heart to go out to her friend.
Casting a fleeting grin to the stallion (always wanting everyone to be happy, and not wishing to him to feel shunned), the blue mare then focuses on the bay. Trotting easily to her side, Tiamat touches her shoulder gently, her white eyes warm and without question. Lena doesn’t need to explain herself, of course, but the ocean mare wants her to know that she is not alone—with whatever might have troubled her, Tiamat would want nothing but to remedy it.
Exhaling from her nostrils, the ocean mare shifts her attention to the grasses and herbs that lay in abundance around them, flourishing with the revival of Birdsong. “There so many of them,” she laughs lightly, her unpracticed eye unable to pick out every single one from the others. She is still very much in the learning process, but her inexperience does little to dampen her excitement. Tiamat craves knowledge—to take the time and learn, to study about everything that healing (among other things) has to offer, doesn’t bother her in the slightest.
It is the movement of Imogen that ultimately draws Tiamat’s attention away from the grasses (having perceived the earlier coughing as one of their own) and with her leonine tail flicking out behind her, she follows Lena to the shadow of trees. What she sees, is…well—a plant-thing sitting (comfortably, I might add) astride the back of a wolf—is one thing that she did not expect to see. Her eyes light in wonder and her lips part, words bubbling uninhibited in her excitement. “What are you?” The question is not blurted out in accusation or disgust, but of interest and amazement. This—plant?—is like nothing she has ever seen before. And then, as if remembering herself, she adds, “I’m Tiamat.” Bowing her dainty head as her eyes peer curiously at the creature.
He had wondered into the Herb gathering just as Lena finished talking. So Herbs need to be gathered he started to wonder through the deep woods and some small parts of the meadows to find some some of the little gold mines that could be hiding there. He started by finding some spearmint, He knew that it would help sooth the stomach is someone ever had a stomach ache. He picked a few with his dark ghostly maw and placed them in a large leaf he had found while walking. Next he came across a aloe plant, they too help with stomach pains, but they are also great at healing sunburn and bug bites. Thinking that this plant would be of great help he dug up the entire plant to bring home to the green house.
He began to walk back with the two herbs that he found when he heard a cough rustle deep in the shadows. The demonic stag who enjoyed going off by himself stood and waited for the sound to walk into the light. His gray eyes peered into the field as the wolf entered with a strange plant. His black body cast an even darker dancing shadow beside him as the stag from hell watched. He set his leaf down to dig in an area a little ways away. He dug into the dirt like he was trying to reach hell until found what he needed the sweet Licorice root. He then looked next to him and pulled off some wild cherry bark to help sooth the cough and throat after they figure out what was wrong. The dark shadow then picked up his leaf again and crept out to the place where Tiamat and Lena stood by the plant. "I am not sure if it will help right now, but these should sooth the throat and any left over cough." he placed the root and bark in front of Lena hoping it would help if she needed it at some point. His eyes then caught Tiamats and he smiled softly looking back at the small plant with a dead nothingness in his gray eyes.
"Talk"
MORTUUS NOX
"Your fears have just become all too Real
Please tag Mortuus Nox in all posts magic & permanent injury is permitted excluding death.
Their voices turn to incoherent mumbles before you finally slow, expelling a quiet huff of frustration at the man-child’s sheer lack of respect. You are certain he did not mean it to be harmful, but what is the sense of intention when that’s exactly what it was: harmful, unwanted? Glancing over your shoulder before focusing your attention on the patches of spring blooms, you aspire to distract yourself from such trivial matters and focus on the task at hand instead. At first you simply glance around at the expanse before you, your mind too rattled to recognize a single plant. Before long, however, their names and purposes come to you. Chipping away the best you can at a stalk of Aloe Vera, used mostly for burns or frostbite, along with multiple internal issues, to pulling at shoots of Dandelion, for joint pain, to Echinacea to Horehound to Mullein, for upper respiratory infections, migraines, some snake bites, and fever, cough, and topically the same as Aloe.
They all have many more uses, but you cannot recall all of them. Only once you have several of each do you collect them as best you can within your mouth and pinched between your lower jaw and neck. It seems like a bit of lack of forethought to have to carry everything back to the Basin like this, something that you only notice now. Rejoining the group is done with little more than a glance to Lena and only Lena, a small, protected smile blossoming on your lips as you drop your precious herbs gently to the ground in a pile. You are about to ask when the sound of what could have been a cough catches your ears, your eyes following the Mender’s. As she moves you hesitate, your eyes narrowing in the direction that the sound came from. But you are too curious to let the bitterness still stirring within you get the best of you, and so you follow, muscles poised to defend her, to run, should it come to that.
But it is simply a plant. On a wolf. That isn’t strange at all. You balk at it, your face contorting in rejection where hers smiles, joined by Tia and her all too friendly friendliness (that any other day you would so terribly appreciate). It is then that another descends like a shadow, and you fight to suppress the hiss of surprise that rises in your throat. But he does not seem as out of place as you first thought, assuming he is one of the many within the Basin that you have not met, and as he speaks you lose interest in him, your eyes turning back to the strange spectacle.
please tag enna in every post
violence permitted barring permanent injury / death
09-26-2015, 04:06 PM (This post was last modified: 09-26-2015, 05:09 PM by Tangere.)
non omnis moriar
Tangere is always last to arrive – it's just who is she is and she's decided she's done feeling guilty about it. Instead she slinks in as if it casual to be so late, flitting her bright brown eyes over her bay friend and tipping her nose perkily in hello. Her gaze quickly drifts though and flits over to where everyone is staring and approaching. She moves between the bodies easily enough, daintily picking herself up to a trot until she could clearly see the rustling. What the fuck? The local greenery has come alive, that is no surprise, but with a carnivore in it's grasp. She watches as they react one by one. Some say hello, introducing themselves to the not-so-friendly looking fly trap creature-plant. Another tries to offer it a soothing herb – she observes this, finding it queer to try and appeal to the creature. Just then she is struck with an idea. A sneaky, malicious sort of idea but one that is certainly on the side of research. Instantly she thinks of opening this creature up and exploring it – and better yet, questioning the damn wolf it has in it's grasp. As if it is fate, which she dares to indulge in, she sees the plump red berries on a small fork-leafed plant just to her left. No, the berries were not what she wanted it is the small yellow fungal pods that grow at there base. Carefully she takes a big broad leaf and swipes a few pods onto the foliage before folding it neatly with her nose and grabbing it delicately with her lips. She moves to stand beside the one that offered, placing her offering somewhere between them and the plant-creature and backing away slowly. “Eat those with that plant he gave you – they work better together, one will ease the coughing and the other will loosen the throat. Very relaxing.” She does not lie – death is surely relaxing and your throat is probably the loosest it can be. Absolute serendipitous respite. She grins a very genuine looking grin, “We do hate to see you suffer so.” Her tail flicks and she steadies her body for his reaction.
Perhaps he is very intelligent? Perhaps he is lethal? Why is he so strong, big and conscious...and cognitive ? It sparks her desire to know the mysteries of this aggressive greenery even more. If he refuses to take the poison fungus – or even more so has no negative reaction to it, then at most it will make him drowsy...that would be better than arousing more anger and bringing him down on them. Her tail flicks again and she watches for signs of advancement from the plant-creature.
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