"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.
01-03-2016, 09:24 PM (This post was last modified: 01-04-2016, 12:59 AM by Quentin.)
Q U E N T I N
The forest around him seemed to be closing in. Quentin's head craned to and fro, his hazel eyes wide with caution. “Brings back memories doesn't it?” The stallion snorted loudly, tossing his fabulously teal forelock from his face. He went from worried to utterly annoyed in a matter of seconds. No one asked you,” the stud muttered softly. He'd grown used to these tittering voices that seemed to always mock him. Stopping suddenly, Quentin took in his surroundings. The trees closest to him were close together, but up ahead, they seemed to grow farther apart. It was then that he noticed an open area and tossed his head.
The male moved into a trot, his muscled hips shaking to and fro with the gait. As he trotted through the opening of the forest, the male halted to take in his newest surroundings. “Hmm...it'll do.” Quentin rolled his eyes at the voices, moving forward once more at a hip swaying walk. The stud wasn't sure what to expect of this territory, especially since he honestly didn't know who he was expecting to find here either.
The grass beneath his cream colored hoofs was vibrant green and the air was crisp and clean. “Enough to make you sick.” Quentin chuckled at the voices, for once not letting their negativity get the better of him. Blue gray coat twitched with the landing of an insect, but otherwise, it was just Quentin and his voices. As he halted in the middle of the clearing, the Warmblood's ears flicked around his skull as his eyes did the same. Had anyone been watching him, the stallion would've looked overly cautious and, quite frankly, like a mare. The flower that adorned his forelock didn't really help his appearance either.
Sighing, Quentin tossed his mane again, a habit that seemed to be rabidly forming. The Pegasus' wings fluttered atop his back as he seemed lost in thought. He cocked a muscular hip to the side as he thoughts led him elsewhere, for now content in where he stood. The voices in his head were silent for the moment and he was grateful for this. Now, all he had to do was wait, which he was fine with. Where else would he go?
The Warlander isn’t entirely sure what it is that compels him to leave the Edge (or rather, he ignores what it is). For days he had been rooted to its borders—pacing, searching, and huffing—until suddenly, he had just…left. He has no particular destination in mind, simply following his feet and allowing his mind to shut off while his body settles into a steady, ground-swallowing gait. Of course, it is nigh impossible for the antlered stallion to really “shut off” his mind. His thoughts are ever occupied and demanding of his attention—ever haunting.
How dare she.
He clings to his anger, his frustration, but it is like clutching at a branch with the tips of his fingers. As much as he tries, as much as he clings to his fury with the small mare, the image of her leaving remains burned in the forefront of his memory—tattooing the sadness that had pierced his stone heart, carving into the hard surface with slow and deliberate barbs. The more this grief and guilt roar against its cage, the more he struggles to keep it captive, and the more he clings to his anger, his resentment—and, ultimately, the more he feels it slipping away.
Unconsciously, Rohan pushes himself faster, harder, strong hooves thundering against the cold ground until it is all he can comprehend. The beating of his heart and panting of his breath swells in his ears, and still he presses forward, trying to drown out everything else. The Warlander is already well into the woods of the Threshold before he even registers his surroundings. Slowing suddenly with an upward jerk of his head, he comes to a brutish halt, the mess of his long mane tangling in the lower parts of his antlers. Steam would be rising from his hairy body were it any colder, but despite the crisp coolness of an autumn day, he still finds himself somewhat warm.
Sighing melodramatically to himself and whipping his tail around muscular flanks, Rohan saunters through the forest. Not necessarily being the kiss-ass type of man, he has rarely wandered to the Threshold since his own arrival in Helovia—and never intentionally. It is entirely by accident that he stumbles into the clearing with the fairy-winged pegasus, and he exhales heavily from his nostrils before deciding to approach the brightly-colored stranger.
“Your wings—” he gestures with a bearded chin towards the pixie-like appendages, “—are they really able to hold your weight in the air?” Green eyes narrow slightly as he inspects them distantly, ever curious of the winged equines (and ever envious of their ability to take to the air). In any case, he’s never seen any type of wing other than the typical bird-like wings of the usual pegasus; even in his homeland, he had never seen such wings as this. Clearing his throat, Rohan return his eyes to the other stallion’s face. “My name is Rohan, a warrior for World’s Edge—have you just stumbled into Helovia?”
notes; <333 :D “Speech.”
Lend me your hand and we’ll conquer them all,
but lend me your heart and I’ll just let you fall.
Flicking his long tail absentmindedly against his rump, Quentin began to slowly close his eyes. “Wakey, wakey sunshine.” The stallion murmured under his breath something about murder before sighing and reopening his eyes. A cool breeze found its way to the stallion and, inhaling, his hazel eyes brightened slightly. “Someone's coming.” A curt snort escaped the stallion and he rolled his eyes. “Thank you, Captain Obvious,” he grumbled, spinning around on his haunches.
He searched the surrounding trees for the sign of another and, suddenly, a figure exposed himself from the shadows. The male took in the other stallion and a smirk planted itself on his jaws. “What a beefcake!” For once, Quentin thoroughly agreed with the voices, his eyes flashing with approval.
The stallions spoke, his masculinity overflowing with his words. Quentin chuckled at his words, fluttering his wings in response. With the flick of his forelock, the teal and white stallion flapped his wings quickly, lifting off the ground roughly ten feet before fluttering around the Dunalino brute. “Of course they support me, silly goose. They're not just to make me look pretty!” Landing with a hop Quentin nickered at the stallion, flicking his tail flirtatiously in his direction.
The male's voice sounded again and the Warmblood grinned. Rohan was it? What a masculine name for such a masculine stallion! Quentin cocked a muscular hip to the side and fluttered his eyelashes ever so slightly. “Pleasure to meet you, darling. My name is Quentin and, yes, I just so happened to stumble upon these lands.” Hazel eyes continued to drag slowly over Rohan's form, sure that he would be drooling had he not be well aware of himself. “To bad he looks like a ladies man.” A huff escaped Quentin before he could catch it and he cleared his throat quickly. “So what brings you here? Looking for anything in...particular?” Quentin leaned forward slightly, smiling flirtatious, though he wondered if the brute even noticed.
The brightly-colored stallion wastes no time in his response, reacting immediately to Rohan’s approach with a collection of giggles and trembling wings. One side of his brow rises amusingly, the length of his tail curling around the lower part of his hocks, before his eyes rise with the winged stranger. It would seem, with his diminutive knowledge, that flight with these fairy appendages is not the same as it is with other wings; these appear to flutter, rather than flap, and appear decidedly more elegant than mighty. “I see,” the Warlander’s speech is hardly a breath in his musings, more of a hum against his lips, though his voice soon broadens into a chuckle with the stranger’s teasing.
It isn’t often that he’s been called a silly goose—he can’t recall any other time in his life, in fact—and this stallion’s silly sense of humor is appreciated. If nothing else, Rohan could certainly do with a distraction. “Well aren’t you light on your feet,” he shakes his antlered head, watching idly as the colorful pegasus almost dances into his landing, giving a playful hop, skip, and jump before alighting once more on the crisp grass.
When the stranger seems to relax then, the Warlander does the same; he’s too restless to cock anything a hip like his company, but he allows his muscles to settle beneath his skin, soothing his bones into a more comfortable position. However, this thin façade of ease is ruffled once the pixie-winged man speaks again. Darling. The word does not go unnoticed; Rohan has used it himself on countless occasions, a title usually given to blushing damsels with fluttering lashes and bashful smiles—but it is certainly not a label he would ever think to bear himself (from this fellow, specifically).
He shifts his weight, observing Quentin’s eye (practiced in the art of praise and admiration himself), and while his first instinct is to bristle in defense, he can’t help but feel…flattered. After all—is he not handsome? Is he not rugged? Is he not panty-dropping-worthy? Rohan doesn’t struggle in the slightest with his self-esteem (it might be far too bloated), and it is his pride that surges now. Twisting his lips into a gratified smirk, the Warlander raises his head, still a little uncomfortable but far too vain to change anything about it.
“It’s a pleasure as well…bro,” he’s not about to return the favor, but he can genuinely say that he has yet to be disappointed. To Quentin’s following question, the stallion shakes his antlered head in one gruff movement. “No, I don’t suppose I am—just wanted to clear my head I guess. I can try to answer any questions you might have though, I know how disorienting it can be.” He still remembers his first day in Helovia—a year ago now. It’s difficult for him to believe that so much has changed in such a seemingly short amount of time. And not wanting to agitate himself over the matter, Rohan continues, his gaze roaming again to the stallion’s wings. “I’ve never come across wings like yours; are they common where you come from?” He eyes Quentin from beneath the shadow of his brow, a light breeze ruffling his lengthy forelock.
“Speech.”
Lend me your hand and we’ll conquer them all,
but lend me your heart and I’ll just let you fall.
Quentin was tickled pink (his absolute favorite color, so you can imagine how giddy he was), that this stallion seemed to enjoy his fluttering. “I know where I want to flutter....” An extremely feminine giggle escaped his jaws, his eyes bright with the emotion. Rohan's more hearty chuckle certainly sent chilling shivers down his spine and the dainty stallion couldn't contain his grins.
At his landing, the comment sent his way would've made his eyebrows wiggle if he had any. “I might be light on my feet, but I can tap dance my way into your heart.” A wink was sent the antlered stallion's way at this. “Or your pants....” Another giggle ensued. These voices were just on fire today! For once in his life, he could say he thoroughly enjoyed their taunting and teasing. If anything it only encouraged him more.
Quentin's wings flutter absentmindedly as he watches the larger brute. He most certainly notices when he tenses a little at his words, but it doesn't take long for him to relax once more. “Ladies man.” An almost unnoticeable nod was Quentin's response, but the fact that he wasn't being attacked or told to flit off was empowering. “We can turn him around. That ass is enough incentive.” Here we go. The giggles that escaped the winged equine were enough to question his sanity. The male didn't care though, his child-like personality was sure to have already shone through and, even if not, he wouldn't be losing anything. Obviously Rohan was out of his league...well...really he was out of his orientation, but that didn't matter!
Rohan's smirk and 'bro' comment were enough to send him round again. Once he was able to breathe without the hint of laughter, Quentin met his gaze with bright blue, amused eyes. “Bro...don't worry about your ego, dear. I know all the ladies swarm around you. I'll be more than happy to be your fan boy.” He grins, another wink is sent the unicorn's way. He nods, still smiling, at Rohan's next words, happy that the male has stuck around this long. It was nice to have physical company every now and then. Before he could say anything else, the subject of his wings returned. Quentin fluttered them, the movement slower than should he be flying with them.
He didn't want to go the whole tragic back story route, so he shrugged, looking away quickly. “Ashamed of your little friends?” A snort sounded, and he returned his gaze back to the sexpot before him. “No, dear. They're just as shocking to everyone else as they are to you.” Tossing his forelock, the Warmblood bats his eyelashes, trying to keep his mind off his past. This glorious example of the fine work the gods did shouldn't be ruined by little boys drowning and going absolutely bonkers. “Enough about me. Tell me about yourself. To hell with this place, you're FAR more interesting.” Those eyelashes were working overtime. He could pimp them out at this rate.
Fairies Talking Quentin Talking
OOC - I told you I was going to work in sexpot xD
Early morning, and i'm off and out again. This time, i'm looking for someone. He gone. Not coming back. I shot a glare at Sarabi, who falls silent at my side. I am glad I am the only one who can hear her voice. This way no one knows how much my absent father is on my mind. He's been gone for a while now, since the invasion. Mother has been dead a while now too. Still got me. I couldn't help but crack a smile at that. Yes, I still had Sarabi. She's been my constant since I was a babe. Let's go see about bringing someone home with us, shall we? Sarabi took a leap forward, knowing that my trip to the threshold was also in hope that my father would suddenly reappear there.
I am glad I was up before the sun rose, because the movement was keeping my warm in this early OrangeMoon air. Sarabi doesn't have to worry about that, as her thicker coat has already filled in. Mine however, was not going to be super thick thanks to my mother's bloodline. It was getting thicker, and my coat looked a bit shaggy, but i'd take it if it kept me slightly warm. We reach the threshold, and voices hit my ears almost at once. Sarabi hears them too. We move together to find out what is going on. In and out of the trees, I am used to this by now as this is not my first trip to the Threshold in search of my father. Each time, it seems I come up empty but have gone home with someone. Wow, that kind of sounds bad.... Eh, I am a fully grown mare this time too. Maybe it's time I start to put my mare charm to the test.
When I find the source of the voices, I am stunned to see the sight right in front of me. Two stallions, one that clearly looked more manly than the other. One with wings and one with horns. Isn't it a bit early for a stroll in the woods gentleman? I moved in, Sarabi staying to my side. We knew that not all would be okay with her presence, but that my presence with her seemed to ease any fears. I am Vitani, of the Hidden Falls. I paused for a half a second at most before going on. And this is Sarabi, my companion. My dual colored eyes tried to take in the sight. The wings on the one stallion, were different than any wings I have ever seen. They do not look like feathers, nor do they look like leather either. My emerald green and sapphire blue eyes then look to the more manly stallion. He has horns like a deer, which look very elegant on his head. Already in the back of my mind I am wondering what children with either of them would look like.
01-05-2016, 09:33 AM (This post was last modified: 01-05-2016, 09:34 AM by Faeanne.
Edit Reason: Trying to fix one of the tags.
)
Faeanne
"My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations."- John Green
I prefer being on my own. I feel more comfortable whenever keeping to myself but there are some gatherings that even I must at least observe. The world begins outside of my comfort zone, or that is what I have heard, so I am trying to learn how to press those boundaries. From what I was able to hear while eavesdropping tucked away a good deal of boundary pushing is being done among those who have met here.
“I might be light on my feet, but I can tap dance my way into your heart.”
I wonder what tap dancing is. I wonder what the stallion who had came for recruitment representing the Edge feels about having recruited instead for his own fan base. Quietly I come to stand beside a young mare who appears to be around the same age as me.
“Bro...don't worry about your ego, dear. I know all the ladies swarm around you. I'll be more than happy to be your fan boy.”
Is the other stallion the sort that mares flock to? I turn my eyes to him and I focus on giving a good look over. Starting with his antlers I trace my eyes down them to his body. My eyes explore the maze of his striped markings. Nothing in me stirs at his appearance. This antlered stallion is apparently not my type.
"Isn't it a bit early for a stroll in the woods gentleman? I am Vitani, of the Hidden Falls. And this is Sarabi, my companion." Vitani and Sarabi are the names of those I stand alongside. I take note of her name and the name of her bonded. I am good with names and can remember a name long after the face has faded from memory. It is the only talent I can think of possessing so I enjoy learning the names of others.
I feel obligated to say something. "I am Faeanne." I start with the obvious. "Do you know what tap dancing is?" Dancing I know of although I have never tried it out. Whenever I was younger I missed out in many of the playful dances fillies and colts had. Then once my condition was healed by the God of the Sun and I became capable of exerting myself physically the fillies and colts had moved on to new games. Hearing another of grown age speak of dancing excites me.
“No, dear. They're just as shocking to everyone else as they are to you. Enough about me. Tell me about yourself. To hell with this place, you're FAR more interesting.”
Watching the feminine stallion's wings flutter makes me feel extremely aware of my own wings. I am not vain but I think that my wings are beautiful I could not imagine not having my feathers. Half spreading a wing I cannot help but begin to preen. For pegasi the urge to preen can sometimes be impossible to deny. I adore the golden dust that is sprinkled along my wings and body. My birth mother left me with nothing more than the gift of breath in my lungs and the beautiful markings that grace my otherwise ordinary coat. It is as if I see the markings more as a remaining piece of my absent mother to clutch to than markings that are my own. After I am satisfied with how my feathers sit I fold my wing back to my side.
I ignore the desire to mess with my other wing. I feel self conscious preening among others even if I do offer little to the conversation. "Do you think," My eyes return to the pair of stallions, but my words are directed at Vitani ,"that if the odd winged one were female the other would flirt also?" I feel bad for the stallion with a mane that rivaled the sky's blue. He is certainly lovely. But even as a native I cannot think of any stallion who is so open about his preference for his own sex. If there are any I am sure that this fellow can bring them out. I truly wish him the best.
OOC:: I am going to write this as though it took place sometime before Faeanne's other thread here in the Threshold. I just really wanted this opportunity for her to meet Vitani. I would love for them to befriend each other and eventually find out that they are half sisters.
“I might be light on my feet, but I can tap dance my way into your heart.”
Rohan chuckles at the stallion’s spirit, the sound perhaps a little more on edge than normal, but still broad and rumbling all the same. Normally, he would probably throw a flippant comment between them—something about good luck or I’d like to see you try or then you’re going to need a pickaxe, my friend—but he remains strangely silent for now. The Warlander suddenly feels abnormally vulnerable when it comes to the topic of his heart, which makes him throw up his defenses all the higher. Why does he react this way? Well, there are reasons that his is unwilling to divulge, even to himself. The heart is a peculiar and fickle thing, and he’s learned best to quell it, cage it—that’s not about to change now.
(It can’t change—)
The trilling, breathless laughter of the pegasus is enough to pierce through the haze of his thoughts, and for once, Rohan is grateful for the obnoxious distraction. A crooked smile lingers as a whisper over his lips, amused by Quentin’s apparent ‘laugh attack’—truly, the fairy-winged man is, by all mannerisms, a woman.
If only, right?
His skewed smile deepens into a smirk when Quentin is finally able to grasp his voice, his words not failing to entertain the Warlander. As massive as his ego is, he can’t help but puff out in pride—because, in his experience, there has definitely been some swarming from the ladies—and while his preferences don’t swing in the pegasus’ favor, he feels flattered, and that’s an ego booster that he’s not about to dampen. “Fan boy it is, then,” Rohan chuckles more genuinely this time, shaking his large head.
The brightly-colored stallion’s brief moment of discomfort goes unnoticed to the Warlander, dark-rimmed ears tilting forward when Quentin addresses his wings. He is somewhat surprised that Quentin’s family doesn’t sport the same pixie appendages as he does, as they are quite…different—he can’t imagine what his parents would have thought, then! “Well they are certainly…becoming of you. I can imagine you won’t be easily forgotten,” the compliment slips rather woodenly from his lips, but it’s the thought that counts, right? In any case, Rohan is sure that this particular man will be remembered for much more than his unique wings—it’s not every day that you see a giggling, eyelash-batting stallion.
The pegasus bursts forward again, skipping the conversation along. For what it’s worth, the two stallions do have this in common: they are both wary of their past. For this reason Rohan doesn’t answer right away, not wanting to divulge any inner secrets, and then his attentions are soon distracted. A beautiful young mare emerges from the shadowy wood, followed by some sort of wolf (he has seen wolf companions before, but not like this one), with their trail shadowed by another dazzling young mare. “Well hello,” Rohan slips more easily into his usual charisma, his tail flicking comfortably around his flanks.
“A pleasure, Vitani and Faeanne,” he inclines his antlered head to both mares in a show of chivalry, and not forgetting that companions are just as aware as anyone, he gestures to the wolf as well, “and Sarabi. My name is Rohan, a warrior for the Edge.” He is unaware that they might have been listening to earlier parts of their conversation, and leaves the pegasus to introduce himself, not wanting to step on any toes. With green eyes settling on the star-dusted mare, his lips twist into a playful smirk. “I think my friend would be better suited to answer your question,” he gestures to Quentin, the tap-dancing fairy man.
His eyes remain on the other stallion, having had time to acquaint himself with his earlier inquiry. “As for your question,” he pauses to press brown lips into a dry grin, “I’m afraid there is nothing notable to say of myself; I eat, I sleep, I live.” A low chuckle rumbles contentedly from his chest. While Rohan has no problem in praising himself, he steps lightly now, more guarded than ever and not wanting to spur anymore prying questions.
“Speech.”
Lend me your hand and we’ll conquer them all,
but lend me your heart and I’ll just let you fall.
01-05-2016, 10:29 PM (This post was last modified: 01-05-2016, 10:44 PM by Quentin.
Edit Reason: Fix some dialouge
)
Q U E N T I N
Quentin is utterly thrilled when Rohan's smirk overtakes his face at his fan boy comment. “Fan boy it is, then.” The chuckle following from the large stallion is answered by the colorful male prancing in circles around the antlered stallion, mostly mocking his own over enthusiasm. “Watch out ladies, Quentin is here to steal your man from under you.” He halts here, puffing out his chest, wings fluttering dramatically. He'd be a beautiful mare, that no one could deny...if he had the correct parts anyways.
He's glad when Rohan doesn't comment on his discomfort at the brute's question, but is tickled by his reply. “I can imagine you won't be easily forgotten.” A look of pride comes over the Warmblood as he arches his neck. He can see it might not have been the easiest for Rohan to say, but he is glad that the stallion, even though he was obviously straight as a board, accepted his difference. It was rare for Quentin to be accepted by anyone, hell, even his own family had tossed him away like garbage. The only company he'd had since his abandonment had been the voices in his head, and to be frank, they often times teased him just as much as anyone else.
It wasn't long though before the teal and white stallion was dragged from his thoughts, fully aware that the unicorn hadn't answered his question. It seemed that they were being interrupted. A bay maiden breaks forth from the trees, a canine at her side. Her mane is almost as glorious as his own and he makes the mental note to complement her when the chance arises. “Isn't it a bit early for a stroll in the woods gentlemen?” Quentin chuckles here, giving his girlish giggling a break. After all, this mare isn't nearly his type...for reasons quite obvious. “I was just...entertaining my friend here.” He turns slightly to Rohan, giving the Dun stallion a flirtatious wink. The bay maiden continued on, introducing herself and the beast at her side. He noticed her eyes cut to his wings and flutters them in response. However, she doesn't question them and he gives her a smile for doing so.
It was one thing for the handsome stallion to ask all he could about Quentin, but mares were finicky beasts. They thought, at least the ones he'd encountered, they were more entitled to a stallion than he was. He was packing more than they ever could and Quentin often made sure to let them know. He was glad that, for now, this Vitani stayed her ground and didn't question his appearance or words.
As soon as his jaws opened to give the maiden a polite greeting, another being seemed to reveal herself. He wasn't sure how long she'd been there, but Quentin finally noticed her and turned his attention fully onto her. He noticed her heavier build was more similar to Rohan that his own light, muscular form. She was beautiful though, that much the stallion could say. Hell, had he been straight he would’ve been all over her. Or maybe it was the fact that she seemed to sparkle with golden stars. Yeah. It was probably that.
She then, in turn, introduces herself, then questions Quentin about his dancing reference. A musical giggle escapes his jaws, his heart delight that, of all the things to question, it was this. “Just dancing with a little flare, my dear. I'd be DELIGHTED to show you, but the grass is to thick.” As if in example, Quentin hops from one hoof to the other, showing how only the swish of the green blades was heard. He flutters his wings again, the action seeming to come with his amusement. He watches as the dusted female preens her wing, awed by the golden dust that sprinkles her form.
She stops suddenly, ignoring the other wing to look at Rohan and Quentin. Words escape her jaws and Quentin's ears pin to his skull, hiding in his teal mane. This was it. The first encounter of hatred. What did it matter that he was a stallion? And who the hell said his wings were odd? They were glorious! A grumpy frown takes over his face and he lifts his head to the sky with a 'hmph'. This doesn't last long, as Rohan finally speaks. He takes note of Faeanne's question about dancing, but leaves the answer to Quentin. It is then that he turns to Quentin (finally!) and answers his previous question, though it isn't quite what he was expecting as far as answers go.
He turns to Vitani, now that things have settled and introductions have been said. “A pleasure to meet you, dear. I'm Quentin. What lovely hair you have,” he steps forward towards her, nibbling her locks appreciatively. He pulls away, tossing his own hair. “Absolutely stunning you are, dahling.” He ignores Faeanne for the moment, eying her cautiously. “Tread lightly. She doesn't mean harm.” He nods, finally allowing himself to breathe. It was obvious that she was just curious about his ways. He couldn't blame her really. He turns to Rohan, “Well how would you answer that question, Rohan? Would you be interested if I had lady bits? I mean, I can't blame you if you would!” He stretches provocatively, eying Rohan as he does so. “You might be a hunk of delicious, but I am pretty. You do have to admit that!” He laughs, trying to show that he's only teasing the over masculine stallion.
Quentin returns his attention to the maidens before him, hellhound included. The creature is interesting to say the least. He nods in respect to the beast, knowing that she was just as aware of what was going on as anyone else. He ignored Rohan's response, not really interested in half-hearted answers. It was fine that he had secrets or, more likely, didn't want to display his personal life for strangers to see and observe. He allowed the stallion that one grace, especially since he was teasing him enough as it was.
Instead, his next words were directed at the females. “What brings you lovely ladies here? Seeking beefcakes of your own?” He chuckles, looking out the corner of his eye at Rohan. He was certain he was pushing his luck with the dun stallion. It might be only a matter of time before he gets tired of the one sided flirting and goes his way. “Ah well. There's more where he comes from.” It was true. He was sure stallions were dime a dozen in these lands. However, how many would put up with his girlish ways?
It seemed like once I arrived, the party really began. For a while I simply stand by and listen to the two stallions, and a use that term loosely about the one with the fairy wings, talk back and forth. As I stand there, another mare shows up. I turn to look and see who and if I know her, but instead I find myself staring at her coloration. She's darker, even darker than I am but splashed with gold. Her coloration and build almost remind me of.... Na. Couldn't be. Sarabi instantly gets where I was going with my thoughts and chimes in. Maybe? Parents not mates, just mated. Ewww Sarabi! I didn't need that mental image! I squeal mentally to my bonded. It's all I can do to keep my facial features from reacting to the thought as well. No need to let them know what I am thinking. Though she is right, and that means it is very possible that my Father had other children with other mares. But that is not to say that this mare who is splashed with gold is related to him or me.
"Do you think, that if the odd winged one were female the other would flirt also?" My attention turns to the face of the mare I had just been staring at. I grin and nod. Indeed I do. If I had those male bits, and he had female bits, I know I would. I pause for a moment. But then again, maybe if he was female it would be me he would flirt with instead. I flash a smile to the odd stallion. No, he wasn't like any I had met. But I like him for that exact reason. I take a step forward as Quentin makes a move to greet me. Well thank you Quentin. Tell me, that tap dancing you were doing before. Do you think you could teach me? I, too had not had the chance to group up and play with other foals. The invasion of the Falls had forced all of us who had been kids to grown up far sooner than we should have. Though I really can not complain.
“What brings you lovely ladies here? Seeking beefcakes of your own?" I laugh. No not hardly. More like out for a morning stroll myself. And looking for someone, well, hopeing to find someone. But since that didn't work out i'm glad I found these two. Not like I am going to tell them this. No need for anyone to know all about me when we have only just met. Sarabi pads forward, eager to investigate these new stallions. She's interested in the mare who is named Faeanne too, but mostly those wings. Want to see better. I nodded to my bonded before speaking. Sarabi says she wants to see you wings better. She, nor I have ever seen wings that look like your's do. I pause for a second. You don't have to of course. She's just curious, as am I. I offer him a smile, glancing back and forth to the other two.
"My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations."- John Green
"Well hello, a pleasure, Vitani and Faeanne. And Sarabi. My name is Rohan, a warrior for the Edge." The kindness that the stallion shows in acknowledging Vitani's hellhound, Sarabi, makes me run my eyes over him once more. "I think my friend would be better suited to answer your question." His appearance certainly has not changed but suddenly thanks to thoughtfulness and a smirk I can see why Quentin might be attracted to Rohan. “As for your question. I’m afraid there is nothing notable to say of myself; I eat, I sleep, I live.”
"There is more to life than that, Rohan." I regret my statement the moment it falls from my lips. My eyes flicker to the ground as if to watch my words fall and shatter there.
“Just dancing with a little flare, my dear. I'd be DELIGHTED to show you, but the grass is to thick.” I watch his jig and wonder why the grass being thick prevents him from doing the tap dancing. I feel disappointment at missing out on seeing a dance that few Helovians have heard of before. I want to one day be wise. One day I want to be someone that others come to for advice or stories and I feel as though I missed a chance at learning something new for whenever that day comes.
"Indeed I do. If I had those male bits, and he had female bits, I know I would. But then again, maybe if he was female it would be me he would flirt with instead."
Eyes widen as I realize my words were heard by more sets of ears than those that I had meant them for. My mouth goes dry in embarrassment. It was Quentin who had heard and it was his reaction that let me know I may have spoken too loudly. I wince as he makes his displeasure clear and I stay rooted to where I stand as he and Vitani step towards one another.
“A pleasure to meet you, dear. I'm Quentin. What lovely hair you have. Absolutely stunning you are, dahling." It is strange that I feel a sting of jealousy whenever he touches her mane. I do not wish to welcome someone far enough into my world to receive similar treatment but I still cannot help but want to be complemented also. I put a lot of work into my appearance after all.
"Well thank you Quentin. Tell me, that tap dancing you were doing before. Do you think you could teach me?" I want to ask the same. I still want to know more about the dance and learning to do it myself would add so much to my words if I were to ever tell anyone else about the dance but I cannot bring myself to speak to the fairy like stallion.
"Well how would you answer that question, Rohan? Would you be interested if I had lady bits? I mean, I can't blame you if you would! You might be a hunk of delicious, but I am pretty. You do have to admit that!"
"Quentin." His name comes slowly to my lips. Shame tries to convince me that I do not have the right to speak to him. Pride teams up with my shame to try to convince me that a quickly uttered apology and a hasty retreat back to the warmth of solitude would be best. But I myself told the other stallion that there is more to life than eating, sleeping, and living; I have to heed my own words and I have got to break past the barriers I have crafted around myself. "You are lovely and unique, but it is in a wonderful way." I stir awkwardly. I am the only one to have brought seriousness to this otherwise lighthearted meeting. "Despite my ill worded thoughts I hope that we can be friends." I have not had many of those.
“What brings you lovely ladies here? Seeking beefcakes of your own?” An awkward laugh hastily tumbles from my lips. I have never heard the term 'beefcake' before nor could I tell what I beefcake is but from the stallion's tone and what I do know about him I can assume what he means. "No. I am not here for a-- beefcake, of my own." Realizing that I am still being rather stand offish I smile and try to joke around but I can think of nothing to say. Instead I only smile awkwardly.
"No not hardly. More like out for a morning stroll myself." Vitani acts as though she feels completely comfortable among the strangers she has just met. I watch her with a soft smile on my face. I wish that I were more like her. "Sarabi says she wants to see you wings better. She, nor I have ever seen wings that look like your's do. I pause for a second. You don't have to of course. She's just curious, as am I." I am curious. So why do I not find making conversation to be so simple?
As he had suspected, his fairy-winged friend is much more suited to answering the mare’s inquiry of dancing than he would ever be. Quentin seems to grasp her curiosity with eagerness, his merry voice overflowing with the flamboyance and energy that Rohan can only assume is normal for him. Dark-rimmed ears tilt forward in interest when the other stallion does a little demonstration in the thick grass. The Warlander can’t recall any point in his life when he had really…danced; there were a few promenades that were considered ‘traditional’ in Etherim, but he had spent far more time causing mischief that participating in political gatherings.
Breathing a quiet sigh through his nostrils, Rohan pointedly ignores any memories of his homeland, flicking his tail sharply around his ankles and forcing his attention to the gathering around him. He watches as Quentin welcomes Vitani, one side of his brow rising and his lips twisting into an amused smirk when the stallion plays with her hair, before complimenting her. “I would have to agree with that,” he adds smoothly, casting the chocolate mare a charismatic grin. Distractedly, the Warlander wonders what would happen if he had attempted what Quentin did. For whatever reason—orientation or otherwise—he highly doubts that mares would appreciate him invading their personal space so suddenly. Then again, you’ll never know if you never try, right?
Pursing his lips, the stallion files the thought away for another time, green eyes turning to Faeanne when she speaks to him. A low, breathy chuckle rumbles from his lips, and he lowers his antlered head slightly so his gaze is more level with hers. “I want only what will make me happy,” he muses with a wry smile, “often it is the simple things.” He gives the pretty mare a clever wink before broadening his attention again. Of course, life isn’t always as simple as that, but he doesn’t allow himself to dwell on dark matters now (not that he would have the chance either way—)
“Well how would you answer that question, Rohan? Would you be interested if I had lady bits? I mean, I can't blame you if you would!”
“What—?” He eyes the pixie man incredulously for a short (but tremendously confusing) moment before he catches up with the conversation. He had hardly heard Faeanne’s earlier question, and her hushed voice had barely been enough to register as words, and so he hadn’t wasted the energy of focusing on it. Only now does he recall them into recognition, and had it been possible for him to blush, he would have.
Chuckling deeply (only a slight tension in his tone) when Quentin stretches seductively—still very much entertained, despite his embarrassment—Rohan shakes his head, his laughter mingling with the other stallion’s. “I suppose I would,” and he means it! Undoubtedly, he would find his fairy-winged friend attractive were he a female. Rohan doesn’t really have a type, he’s hardly picky about his women. And he can’t deny that Quentin definitely has a flare about him, which Rohan can appreciate.
Fortunately, the topic continues quickly enough that it doesn’t become any more awkward. Both of the mares answer Quentin’s question in stride with his playfulness, Vitani seeming more at ease than Faeanne. She explains that she had been out for a simple stroll, to which Rohan nods once. “Not particularly uncommon in these parts,” that had more or less been his own intentions. Of course, the Threshold has its surprises, hardly allowing any of them an uneventful experience. Turning to the pale stallion, he continues casually, “If it is a home you seek, I can offer the Edge; it is a beautiful place. Or, if you’re more apt to wandering, I can point you in the direction of Helovia’s wilds. I have not been disappointed myself.” Indeed, his time as an Outcast had not been worthless, and he’s not about to pressure anyone into anything.
Waiting nonchalantly for Quentin’s response, he turns his crowned head when Vitani speaks up, voicing what her companion cannot. The Warlander offers the mare a brief, crooked smile before glancing to the pixie appendages in question. He understands their curiosity—he had been so himself upon his arrival, had had issued his own graceless inquiry. He would venture to say that it is far from the last time for Quentin—his abnormal wings are bound to draw an endless amount of attention in the future.
“Speech.”
Lend me your hand and we’ll conquer them all,
but lend me your heart and I’ll just let you fall.
Quentin listened as Vitani voiced her opinions on Faeanne's question about his gender and laughed musically. “Oh darling, you'd be exactly my cup of tea." He stays close to the mare, as he likes being in her company. She's just as playful and easy going as he was and, for that, Quentin already appreciated her. Rohan's voice grabs the stallion's attention, however, speaking on the topic. The colorful male giggles at the antlered male's confusion as it transforms into embarrassment. Oh what a doll he was!
“I suppose I would.” At this, Quentin kicks up his heels, laughing obnoxiously. “Here that ladies!? Be lucky I'm not a girl!” He tosses his head, making his mane and forelock dancing for a moment. “Ah well, the fates have not been kind to me it seems.” He turns to Faeanne, grinning. “Have at him, girl! Get some loving from the big man for me.” Winking at the gold dusted mare, a large grin overtakes the pale brute's features.
Turning back to Vitani, he listens as she continues on their previous conversation, “do you think you could teach me?”. He smiles, his fairy wings fluttering in excitement. “I'd be delighted my dear!” He grins in response, more than happy that he's made quite the impression on these ladies. Well, and Rohan as well.
Faeanne speaks his name and the pale stallion turns his hazel eyes upon her. “You are lovely and unique, but it is in a wonderful way.” The male snorts, wondering what this female is getting at. “She feels sorry for her words.” Quentin sighs, knowing this is true. “...I hope we can be friends.” Turning his full body towards the dark mare and her golden dust, Quentin offers her a smile. “I suppose we can. I'm not here to make enemies, darling.” He eyes her cautiously for a moment before deciding that this is the right choice to make. No matter what was said previously, the Warmblood knows that she means what she says.
The conversation continues on, both females answering about their lack of hunting males. Giving a loud 'humph', Quentin snorts. “You ladies need to get out more! There are plenty of stud muffins to be had!” He prances in place for a moment, almost eager himself to take off and go searching. Halting his movements, he's brought back into the conversation as Rohan speaks again. “If it is a home you seek, I can offer the Edge...” The male pauses for a moment, not quite sure what to make of the offer. Was the dun really that comfortable around him to want to have Quentin in the same area as he?
Of course, there was also mention of the wilds, but Quentin knew he wouldn't survive out there. Too much dirt and disgusting things. Mud was not his favorite thing, that much was obvious. “Are you okay with being stuck with me, Rohan?”He voices his concerns, the hesitation obvious in his tone. Quentin eyes the stallion, wondering what his response will be. The brute must really be comfortable with his sexuality to be so open about inviting the oh so obvious feminine Quentin into the territory.
His ears catch Vitani asking about his wings, though as he turns his gaze upon her, he realizes it's her hound that is the curious one. Although, if he were to be honest, he figured they were all waiting for the other to ask about them. Grinning widely, Quentin lowers himself to the hound's level. “By all means!” The male flutters his appendages happily. Watching the hound, curious to see how her inspection will go. “You shouldn't be so open and willing.” The male tosses his forelock from his eyes, ignoring the voices for a moment. Why did it matter to them how open he was? Granted, no one knew about their existence, was that what they were afraid of him exposing? He doubted it heavily. Who would care about his mental health?
Sure, this trio of equines of various types were eager to befriend him, but that didn't mean anything just yet to the male. After all, it was one thing to say you were someone's friend and another to follow through on your friendly duties. They'd surely tire of him quickly. “We're your only true friends....” Quentin snorted softly, trying to keep his inner battle to himself. No need to scare anyone off so soon. However, he needed to get this under control. He'd drive himself insane if he didn't, that much was certain. All this negativity was certainly unlike him, but lately, it had been nagging at him, slowly ebbing its way into his personality. Shaking his head, Quentin tossed his thoughts away for a moment, returning his attention to the present.
“Oh darling, you'd be exactly my cup of tea." If I could of blushed, I think I would have. No stallion has ever taken interest in me, let alone said that I would be their 'cup of tea'. Sarabi had taken interest in this as well and my reaction. I allowed the conversation to go on around me without adding anything else. After all, I think I am in shock. It's only after I asked about his dance did I smile as Quentin said he would teach me. As his attention turns to Faeanne, I glance at her as well. I wish I could get to know her as well as Quentin was. I needed friends. The Falls was clearly not going to provide very many friends.... Then again how could I ever hope to belong in a place that had taken over my old herd?
Sarabi was happy when I asked her question for her, and even happier when he agreed. She bounced up and down happily at first, before settling down and moving closer. She stops moving and leans in a bit closer sniffing the wings curiously. Her head tilts side to side as she looks at the wings, then the light bouncing off of the wings. Sure she had seen wings before, but none like this. She then turns and looks at me Babies would be pretty with wings like this... Before I could stop myself I spoke to her out loud. Sarabi! Don't think like that! The pup looked shy before going on. Well they would. I sighed and decided to speak my half of the mental conversation. Yes babies would look pretty with wings like that, but i'm not his type. I looked to Quentin, the embarrassment clear on my face. I'm so sorry. She loves the wings.... So much that she would love to see my kiddos have wings just like them... If I could of dropped dead right there, I would of.
I was so glad for the change in subject, as Rohan speaks. “If it is a home you seek, I can offer the Edge; it is a beautiful place. Or, if you’re more apt to wandering, I can point you in the direction of Helovia’s wilds. I have not been disappointed myself.” I see my chance and I take it. If it is not to much to ask, would like to see the Edge for myself.... I come from the Falls, I was born there before the newest Czars took over..... Sarabi looks at me in shock. Her emotions screamed, what was I thinking. What was I thinking? A possible new home and new start.
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