"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.
09-23-2015, 12:36 PM (This post was last modified: 09-23-2015, 12:38 PM by Miykael.)
Notes: This is a GLL healing thread for those that want it. Just to keep things simple for everyone. Permission for you to powerplay Eliana finding you. <3 @Ranjiri
I WAS MADE TO KEEP YOUR BODY WARM BUT I'M COLD AS THE WIND BLOWS SO HOLD ME IN YOUR ARMS
The magic worked.
He cured Archibald.
There are others ill out there, there has to be and he isn't willing to sit by while they suffer. Not when he knows there is something he can do to help. Finally, he can help. Relief swells in his chest, replacing doubt with confidence. His dizziness has subsided and though the throbbing in his head still exists it has softened to a dull ache. He welcomes the pain, almost taking pleasure in it, knowing that others felt far less pain because of him. Reaching out with his mind he seeks Eliana and when he finds her, the joy he feels in his heart is echoed in her. 'It worked.' he whispers to her, softly and lovingly. 'I can help them, dearheart.' The zephyr leaps from the trees, unbidden she soars up and out to the wilds of Helovia - seeking more afflicted with the strange disease. With a soft laugh and several hard thrusts with his outstretched wings, he follows her.
Hope.
The feeling is strange, unfamiliar from so many years of not experiencing it at all. The sun seemed to echo his feelings, shining brighter from its place in the sky. Even the clouds seemed to take part, shimmering with a silver lining he'd never really seen before. This, this is what he lived for. He'd found himself again.
Miykael soars, seeking the most central location in Helovia that he can think of: the meadow. Flying quickly and powerfully, the thistle meadow comes quickly into his view. Like a bullet he descends, his wings folded slightly his long dark locks waving above him. The ground rapidly approaches, growing larger and larger until he unfurls his wings and tilts back, slowing his descent and with his legs outstretched, he glides in to land and transition to an easy trot. His steps are unusually bouncy as he moves to the stream to wait. Eliana would bring them, he knew she would. Lowering his lips to the water's cool rippling surface, he sucks some of it in - relishing in the feel of the cool liquid on his tongue and sliding down his throat. All prior pains forgotten, exhilaration banishing it from his thoughts.
MY HEART'S AGAINST YOUR CHEST, YOUR LIPS PRESSED TO MY NECK I'M FALLING FOR YOUR EYES, BUT THEY DON'T KNOW ME YET AND WITH THIS FEELING I'LL FORGET, I'M IN LOVE NOW
09-23-2015, 05:17 PM (This post was last modified: 09-24-2015, 08:46 AM by Imonada.)
The little cantankerous murmur of sensation in her mind, that she interpreted as a voice, was hardly ever helpful. Most of the comments were degrading, making sure to mark each occasion with incessant chicken-pecking at her self-worth; she imagined it as a rotten thing with diseased roots burrowing deep into the hair-width fissures of her mind. But it took a guardian stance in the Deep Forest as it urged her in that violating way, that she needed to keep moving. Forget about the butterflies. Forget about the creepy forest. Just keep moving. Away.
But the further she tread, the game trails began to vanish as if having been washed away--to the point she was forced off path. Soon the world she travels into becomes clogged with a sheen of mist that collects around the soaring tree trunks, buoyed by the earth. Here she is lost in the maze of those imperial, antagonist trees providing no care or shelter, her only companions the ghosts of the long-dead that haunt the place.
Then, suddenly, a distinctive tug in the direction of the Green Labyrinth? Like a sign in the desert of desperation, showing the way. The black sludge leaking from her eyes and mouth begin to increase with the promise of proximity to their origin, the virus's home, her bright acid purple irises florid against their dark river backdrop. So it is miraculous that a breath of life from the capricious gods themselves intervenes, startling her when a great roc zephyr bursts from the onerous canopy above that eschews most of the natural light. Imonada yelps and takes a few reactionary steps backward, but since it doesn't begin attacking her on sight, she resolves a moment to study and steady her erratic heartbeat. Beautifully wrought, a regally stunning example of a zephyr, carefully crafted with love in its creation for sleek conformity and predatory elegance. They watch each other, the roc perched on a moss-infested log and Imonada with her horrid drooling face. She close-coughs deep in the back of her throat, ready to say something, but then the creature stretches itself wide open and flies off.
Another fae trick?
Imonada refuses to budge--and is rewarded with the bird coming back to lightly smack her withers with its soft wings in a delicate, encouraging gesture before it's airborne again, its message clear to her now. "If ye insist. 'M stuck atween a rock an' a hard place at th' moment. I've nae much choice." Inwardly she cringes, realizing she made a terrible joke, but all her new observer gets is a pained expression before she sets on the trail to follow the creature. The mare only affords the Green Labyrinth's pull one last hesitant glance back, but Eliana has won.
--
The path Eliana takes is efficient and passes with such speed that the black broken pegasus following her is in awe, for soon the wretched forest bleeds out into a vast meadow with its sprawling grasses rolling like waves under the touch of the wind. True to its namesake, the thistle can be seen as far as the horizon, splashes of prickly shades ranging from zaffre-blue to bold magenta. Like a bruised thumb charred to a crisp she is, Imonada sticks out here, a silk-shadow ebony witch surrounded by nature's bounty of many a great color.
The sight of those millions of flowers takes her into the grip of pure elation. Thistles were native to her homeland and even their symbolic flower, but never in her life had she seen such a display of them. She is momentarily distracted until Eliana peeps a small sound to her, drawing her attention to painted stallion patient, standing, waiting, surrounded by her nostalgia.
"Hello," she croaks, her breathing a labored hiss; her tone bland, as if her face didn't look like it was practically melting. Her qualmish eyes raking up and down his body in a clinical perusal; she tries not to notice, not to acknowledge, that illusionary gift from her sickness that reveals an aura enfolding him in a bright halo of incandescent white. She doesn't really want to internally address their height difference either--it would be easy to spook herself when it came to larger horses.
Every time I almost die, I feel so alive. Why would I ever want to be more careful?
The midnight girl wandered. Though, wandering would insinuate her movements would have been purposeful and deliberate, which was certainly not the case. She staggered. Her legs trembled, weak with hunger and pain and sleeplessness. Black stained her cheeks in long tear streaks, and black oozed from her nose and mouth. She wheezed, clogged lungs unforgiving, her throat hoarse from coughing and the dripping of black. "Come along now, the voice in her head crooned. "Listen to father. You've let me down. Don't you want to make father proud?
The girl coughed, a deep barking cough, sending black splattering across the grass beneath her cloven hooves. Her father's voice haunted her thoughts, playing on her fears and weaknesses. "No, I didn't mean to disappoint you,"she rambled, voice cracking and rough. "I'm trying to make you proud. I'm trying my hardest."Silver eyes stared straight ahead, barely seeing the shadows and shades of grey she had been confined to since contracting the virus.
So, along she went, stumbling and tripping and graceless, heeding nothing but the voice of her dead father. The cough plaguing her was growing more frequent, and her breathing grew more and more shallow. The fever still coursed through her veins, molten and throbbing.
The shadow of a bird passed overhead. It was dark against the white light of the sky. She saw it circle around, spiraling over her. "Damn buzzard, I'm not dead! You stay near me and you'll starve, I am no carcass for you to gorge yourself on!" She screamed at the zephyr, unknowing it was much more than a scavenging vulture. It dove towards her and she leapt to meet it, horn aimed to catch the creature in its descent. But the zephyr was quicker, and at this moment smarter, and banked, cutting wide around her and sinking talons into the warrior's dark hide.
Ki'irha spun, teeth gnashing and hooves kicking, as the zephyr clawed and dove and forced her to retreat. Like a sheepdog and its sheep, it ushered her to run towards the meadow to escape the onslaught. When the dark bird knew it was successful it continued on its journey to corral the sick. But still, Ki'irha ran, cussing, unsure why the feathered demon had attacked her. She didn't realize salvation was in the meadow.
Bursting through the treeline like a crazed wraith, the blue girl ploughed in. She was stark against the light field of flowers, and appeared possessed. She skidding to an uneasy halt, snorting black onto the blossoms. Silver eyes flashed upwards as her lip curled, black bubbling from her face and disorienting her further. There, in the clearing, stood two winged beasts. She snarled as the voice rushed back into her head.
"There, it hissed, "Two flying mules. They stand, ruining what could be a beautiful view. How dare they stand before you. Kill them. Rip the feathers from their horrid mutations. They do not belong. They do not deserve to share your air. What have I told you?" Ears were pressed flat back against her skull, and she slowly approached, attempting to even her drunken steps. "Horrid beasts,"she snarled under her breath. She was too weak to attack, too weak to gallop into the battlefield welding a sword of blue and hooves of onyx. She stumbled, head low, eyes never leaving the two pegasi. Nowhere in her mind did it cross that salvation may be her's. Not once did she think that the cure stood before her. She circled wide, coughing harshly, letting the voice take control. "Death,"she hacked, voice bitter and rimmed with poison. She stopped several strides before the pair, planting cloven hooves into the loamy soil. She trembled, near collapse. "Death is waiting for you here this day. Your blood with wet the earth, it will water the flowers. How dare you cross the path of the daughter of the night? You will pay dearly for your trespassing."
"Make me proud, daughter."
OOC// Ahhh delirious Ki'irha! Feel free to PP a bit if you need too. Not sure if you want to do it right away or let her flail around for a few more posts, your choice!
@Miykael
"Talk?"
Colored by Kels ♡ Lines by Bronzehalo
Please Tag Me ○ Permission for magic and injury is granted. Just no death or permanent harm.
He had no idea where in the world he was going, but it had to be somewhere. The stud didn't want to run the risk of infecting more of his family. Ooze dribbled from his nose, eyes, and mouth staining his face black. Coughs ripped from sore and tired lunges; his throat rubbed raw. It felt as if he had inhaled and swallowed sand paper. He was so tired so sore so done. His horned head was mere inches from the ground as he stumbled along. There had to be a cure a way to be done with all of this coughing and staggering. He was tired of everything swaying along as he walked. So tired of it all. Silver eyes caught sight of something up ahead.
If only he could focus on anything, that would really help with everything. He staggered through the meadow trying not to fall. Giggles burst from his lips as he neared the group. In a magical miracle his silver eyes focused on each for a moment before swimming out again. There was two mares and stallion, two black and one buckskin. He thought he had met the stallion before but he wasn't sure. Coughs thundered around the manic giggles as he swayed on the spot. His teal ivy marked legs shook and he fell to his knees. 'Fuck standing up again.' Instead the stallion laid down letting his rump fall with a hard thud. Silver eyes turned up at the group as black continued to slide down his face. "I'm Ilios." Was all the stallion could manage to slur out. There wasn't much he could do or say from down here. His right knee was still scabbed and sore from his fall at the beach. As he nosed the tender place he couldn't help but think of his beautiful grey friend. Was friend the right word? No he didn't think it was, not since that night.
09-24-2015, 12:39 PM (This post was last modified: 10-01-2015, 12:57 PM by Ranjiri.)
Ranjiri
{
"Grief never ends, but it changes. Its a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith. It is the price of love."
I didn't know where I had picked it up from, but I hated it. The black sludge that covered my face made me feel like I was wearing a mask, like I wasn't myself. I felt like I was moving through a fog because I couldn't really see anything besides shadowy figures. Oh, but I could smell. I could smell the salt in the ocean water, the dampness of the dirt under my hooves, the sweat the clung to every member of the Throat's hide, their breath, and the stink of blood on companions. I hated it. I trudged through the meadow, hoping to run into someone that could heal this illness like the boils had been healed. There just had to be a cure. I couldn't take living the rest of my life like that.
I couldn't.
"I'm Ilios."
I smelled him before I heard his voice. I also smelled the other two mares and another stallion and an animal that I couldn't place. "Ilios." I murmured his name and I drifted close to him because his scent was the only one that I knew. He smelled of the Dragon's Throat, of home and comfort. I touched my nose to his withers, inadvertently smudging the black sludge that dripped from my nose against his coat. "Stand up."
One of the other mares was talking, mumbling nonsense and I lifted my head to look toward her, then I looked toward the other stallion. "Who are you?" I asked and then the more important question followed. "Can you help us?" Because why else would so many sick gather around one stallion?
megaera</style> so tell me why i should run for cover
at the sound of the coming thunder</style>
The sickness had creep up on Meg slowly…horribly. She though she must have contracted it at the meeting she had called and the Sultana could have kicked herself again and again for exposing more so the disease by calling them all together. Really it was the Gods’ fault… Spark and Moon had brought this on them by expanding Helovia with stolen lands, and who said Helovia had needed them in the first place? At least her own beloved Sun God had not been so careless.
At first she had though it was merely the black tar in her eyes that obscured her vision but every day since the meeting it had grown worse and worse, color dulled, even light and shadow blurred until what she could see was dictated by what was moving. Motion had become what her eyes reacted too. The faster something moved the sharper it became in Meg’s vision and anything that stood still became a grey blur. The meadow seemed to help, with the gentle spring breezes constantly shifting the grasses, Meg at least had some way of telling where she was. It seemed to be effecting her mind as well, without her sight and under the weight of the congestion in her lungs, the illness left her mind sluggish, almost child like. She would drift from one thought to the next but everything seemed to come and go in a haze that left the normally vigorous mare slow and disoriented.
Something swept above her head and like a moth to flame, Meg’s eyes followed the motion. It swept in fromt of her again, bobbing back and forth and the mares head followed it back and forth trying to see what the blur was. Some kind of bird, she decided and picked up her feet to follow the creature. Before long she heard the murmur of voices, saw the blurred shapes of what had to be horses in front of her. A familiar voice was a blessing and the disoriented Sultana reached for it, clung to to it. “Ranjiri?” She murmured, stretching her nose toward the source until it came into contact with what might have been her side. She breathed in the smell of desert, she smell of home and quietly she spoke again “Ranjiri I can’t… can’t see…. can’t think.”
I WAS MADE TO KEEP YOUR BODY WARM BUT I'M COLD AS THE WIND BLOWS SO HOLD ME IN YOUR ARMS
Eliana brings the first one relatively easily. She calls to him as she passes through, announcing her arrival as well as letting him know that she'd found one. He lifts his head, smiling up at his beloved Zephyr as she soars away to comb through Helovia in search of more sporting the now familiar black goo. The dunskin pegasus turns, then, his gentle blue eyes falling on the much smaller, black pegasus. The black goo is less visible against the darkness of her coat but he could see the shiny substance oozing from her nostrils and the corners of her eyes. Her breathing is labored, causing him further concern.
Her voice betrays her illness when she speaks and the stallion offers her an encouraging smile. "Hello." he replies, maintaining a positive outlook. "I can help you. I can take your sickness away." And then, just as he had done with Archibald - though with a bit more focus and more clear direction from a closer examination of the symptoms - he focuses on the small mare. His blue eyes, light as the fresh cloudless sky, grow intense as he summons a light in her chest. The light is warm and soothing then, after a few moments, it fades away - hopefully taking her sickness along with it. The pain in his head increases, his headache suddenly worse again but he doesn't care. Instead, he examines her face carefully before speaking. "How do you feel?" he asks, genuine concern evident in his eyes.
That's when Eliana arrives with another. This time, a darkly colored unicorn. The zephyr appears rather disgruntled as she once more flies by her companion though Miykael only really begins to understand why when the new arrival speaks. His gaze locks on the unicorn, watching her carefully - her disdain for himself and the smaller mare clear in her tone. "You should go. Find safety." he directs his words to the smaller pegasus, hoping she'd do what he asked. He didn't need her to come to harm now. The unicorn is weak from the illness and unlikely to attack in her current state but he couldn't be certain that she wouldn't attack after he uses his magic on her. The unicorn mare resembled the night sky - a base of dark blue, nearly black, speckled with white like stars.
He'd be more inclined to converse with her, though, if she weren't acting so aggressive. Instead, he remains silent. His eyes harden a bit, showing an unusual amount of sternness. Despite her threats, he is unperturbed. Miykael simply focuses his light on her chest, summoning it there the way he'd done with the smaller pegasus. The light is warm and soothing in her chest - remaining there for a several moments before once more fading out and disappearing. His headache is growing sharper, more piercing. The brightness that he'd previously been so elated by is suddenly making him squint and wince. He feels a tickle beginning in his throat but more individuals arrive, effectively distracting him.
They come on their own, his zephyr is nowhere to be seen.
First is a colt, lighter colored and vaguely familiar - though he can't quite place it. The boy hacks and coughs, giggling hysterically. He's by far the most delirious of those Miykael has attempted to treat. The colt trembles, falls to his knees then gives up and lays down. Ilios. He says his name is Ilios and though the name rings some bells, Miykael can only look at him with concern. Before the healer could attempt to fix the boy, the black and gold mare approaches. She moves to colt's side, nudges him and tells him to stand. The healer simply watched in silence, his blue gaze softening once more. The dark mare speaks then, her focus clearly on Miykael. "My name is Miykael. I'm a healer." he responds, smiling gently at her. And then she presents the most important question of all. "I can." comes his reply, his earlier joy returning.
Only time softened the side-effects he always suffered from his magic but they all came more quickly than perhaps he'd imagined. He wouldn't stop though, not now. He had to help them. He turns his gaze to the colt, closing his eyes momentarily to more easily focus on the boy's chest. Miykael summons the light, sending it to fill his chest with its' healing warmth. After several moments, the light once again fades away - leaving Miykael a bit worse than he'd been before. Each healing attempt chipped away at his own health. This time, the tickle in his throat grows stronger and the world spins in his vision causing him to sway briefly on his hooves.
Inhaling deeply, the stallion tries once more to center himself. But then Eliana leads one more in. Her dark, star speckled feathers streaking across the sky as she passes through. The new arrival is a bay pegasus. Miykael, tall and lean, stands taller than all of them. Though none quite so dramatically different as the first. "It's all right, I can help you." he addresses the new mare, his voice remains strong, hiding his own pain to avoid alarming them. The stallion returns his gaze to the black and gold mare - the one he now knows as Ranjiri - and steps towards her, closing the distance between them in a feeble attempt to make it easier. He hopes that perhaps using the magic would be easier the closer he stood to his intended patient. Closing his eyes once more, he focuses the light into Ranjiri's chest. He feels it blossom, warming, and then fade.
Suddenly, his eyes shoot open. The pain sears white-hot through his skull, sweat coats his neck and sides and his breathing becomes labored. He clears his throat in a feeble attempt to clear the tickle from it. It fails, of course, and disappointment surges through him. His head lowers, tucking in towards his chest as he attempts to fix his breathing and calm his faster heartbeat. Nausea twists in his gut and he swallows hard against the rising bile. Miykael snorts softly, then lifts his head to settle his blue gaze on the bay pegasus. "Try to be still." he says softly to the mare, taking an extra moment to brace himself. With a soft sigh, he lowers his head to try to touch his nose to her chest and closes his eyes. Once more he focuses, fighting harder against the pain throbbing in his head, and summons the light in her chest. It glows, lingering and warm. It takes longer this time for his healing light to fade away - not because of the mare but because of him and the state of his own health. Lifting his head up carefully, he attempts to back up - to give them more space but then his legs give out and he collapses with a thud and a whoosh of breath. It takes everything he has to keep the world from fading to black.
MY HEART'S AGAINST YOUR CHEST, YOUR LIPS PRESSED TO MY NECK I'M FALLING FOR YOUR EYES, BUT THEY DON'T KNOW ME YET AND WITH THIS FEELING I'LL FORGET, I'M IN LOVE NOW
09-26-2015, 10:55 AM (This post was last modified: 09-26-2015, 10:57 AM by Imonada.)
Dazed, leaking eyes bore into his -- a bizarre, alien intelligence heavily opaque over her own, so bleak and empty. Possessed. A charcoal carving of wretched existence, Imonada is motionless and unresponsive he turns from a model stallion into a tightly controlled storm bringing with him a healing rain. But she just keeps staring, seeing yet not, dreamily tracing his jugular and chest in what once was an analytic function now turned hyper surreal; each bump and couture, shifting as he breathes, a fascinating lay of ridges coated in hairs the color of evening sun bathing desert mountainfaces of red porphyry and tuff. Then she blinks slowly as the bundle of brilliant soothing light nestles into her chest, passing through skin and bone and lungs, blazing in a purifying warmth that devours the virus.
Life returns to her in a slow build of movement, until she suddenly braces her legs and heaves violently, hacking out a small lump of that atrocious black slime; no bigger than an acorn it lands in the grass at her feet, its thin spidery tentacles writhing in death throes before abruptly ceasing. Desperately sucking down the clean fresh air into her lungs, she tries to speak, managing breathily. "''At... is.. mingin'." The oil still mars her coat, but at least now it is a dry river, caked and flaking away in chips.
Imonada looks at Miykael again -- his aura is gone now, and she feels a pang of disappointment, but its drowned out by his soft and concerned voice; her own response is subdued, tired, uncertain, but with a precious hint of hope. "Uh. Comparatively better." Squinting at him, her eyes having returned to their bright shiny onyx, with nostrils flaring, she realizes there is something about him that is familiar; but it is elusive and floats out of her reach like the mischievous butterflies that originally led her astray. Before she can make any connection, she glances to the side and finally notices the large gathering of ill that Miykael begins tending to.
Memories unbidden from another time take hold; she and her sweet twin, Imanie, but ill in the way that stole foals' once limitless futures, curled up together in a bundle of black baby-feathers and soft, fuzzed fur, in a terrible fever-sleep. She never remembered actually seeing her sister dead before she was taken away; she only recalled a nightmare, of thousands, where she reached out to her soulmate only to never again feel the comforting reverberation of unconditional love in response.
Seeing so many gathered and suffering was not a first for her either. All the children had succumbed, save for herself and one of her cousins.
The exhaustion, the elation from the cure, the responsibility of a second chance, the tiring memories... But it's Ki'irha's very real and very slavering aggression that solidifies the discomfort. Her chest constricts, tears pooling at the corner of her eyes, threatening to spoil over; Miykael's command comes like a welcome redemption and she heeds it after warily regarding the admittedly beautiful, but savage, unicorn mare. Before she turns off and walks --never flies-- away north, she bows her head toward him.
Every time I almost die, I feel so alive. Why would I ever want to be more careful?
The blue girl coughed and hacked, the look of disgust crossing her sculpted face growing by the second as more of them entered the clearing. She spat, black oozing from her face in thick globs. "Look at them gather," her father's voice hissed, "With no fear or respect for your crown. It's dispicable." She wobbled, eyes blinking slowly, head aching. She snorted, and still more black came.
The smaller pegasus retreated into the trees, her body held with worry. "She is the smart one," the cobalt mare garbled, voice thick with the black. Boldly the painted buck turned towards her. She lifted her bladed head, glazed eyes watching him intently. Suddenly, a sharp heat struck her chest. She gasped, feeling the tar bubble and churn in her lungs. A stabbing pain then struck her mind as her father's voice screamed. "He has magic! This fucking abomination has magic! He aims to kill you, girl, do something!"
But she couldn't. She stood, frozen, eyes wide as her body burned and ached, the black going molten. Her breath was stolen from her, her lungs foaming with the infiltration. The virus fought against his magic, swelled in her veins, fever like needles in her muscles. She began to wretch, ears flat against her head. This was it. This was death. Painful and sharp and awful. Her whole body trembled, unable to breath or think or move. Like a writhing animal her mind blurred and twisted as her father fought for control. Her knees buckled and she collapsed, head spinning, her body covered in a frothy sweat. Her father's voice was gone, and her mind was empty. Then, breaking the silence like a single drop of rain on the stillness of a lake, light rippled through her mind. A soft voice took the place of her father's. It was soft and gentle and tender and kind, everything that her father and this virus wasn't.
"You're free. Rise, be healed, know that your enemy is a friend. This pegasus is your brother and your savior. I am so proud of you, my starry girl. I love you."
A deep clean breath expanded sore and tender lungs. The voice of her mother waa gone, but it's tenderness softened the hate her father's had been planting. Silver eyes fluttered open, vision clear, blinking away the harshness of the light. Like a newborn filly the blue mare rose, legs shaking and trembling. She was clear of the black. She was healthy.
Casting eyes to the painted pegasus, she immediately dropped her vision back to the grassy earth. She was embarrassed. Her words were a distant memory, and she wasn't sure what was real and what was just a nightmare. She stood tall, catching a blue gaze with her sterling. "Thank you, friend, I am sorry for my words. The disease...." She trailed off. Excuses were worthless and without meaning. "I am forever in your debt. Call upon me if you ever need a favor, though I cannot offer much. Nothing can repay what you have done."
With that, she pivoted on black cloves and retreated into the darkness of the treeline, shame for her behavior settling into the hole the black had left behind.
"Talk?"
OOC: Sorry for the wait!
Colored by Kels ♡ Lines by Bronzehalo
Please Tag Me ○ Permission for magic and injury is granted. Just no death or permanent harm.
10-01-2015, 01:01 AM (This post was last modified: 10-01-2015, 01:02 AM by Ilios.)
"If I go crazy then will you still,"
As he lays there giggling like the mad-hatter his silver eyes swim in and out of focus as the world spins around him. He only vaguely hears everyone else. That is until the girl he enjoyed the most appears. Her tender muzzle touches his strong withers and he struggles to stand even before she asks him to. Giggles burst loudly from his lips as he shakes on his long legs. Gods this was annoying! How was he supposed to impress Ranjiri when he can't stop laughing or even stand up right?! His bass is slurred but hopeful, "Jiiiirrrriii." He giggles harder than ever even as he hears her ask the stallion ask for his name and if he can help. Ears prick up eagerly awaiting his reply.
With his name comes the memory, Miykael he had healed his mother! She had told him the story of the healers that had saved her life. Before the young stallion can say a word warmth spreads like hot water through his tired chest. A gasp erupts from his lips as he feels the sickness being pulled from his frame. Silver eyes squeeze shut as he catches his breath for the first time in what felt like forever. His legs become stronger and stop shaking, one final test. He opened his eyes and saw the world had stopped spinning around him. Breathing deeply the turned to look at the golden paint a bright smile upon his own face, until he realize the stallion appeared weak. "Thank you Miykael. You've now healed my mother and myself." He smiled softly as he turned to look at Ranjiri. Then realized his Sultana was there as well. How had the stud missed his leader's arrival.
Ilios was sure that it would have been pointless to ask if he would heal his family. A healer always did everything they could to help everyone. Miykael then proved him right as the stallion stepped towards Ranjiri as he watched the light bloom and then fade. Smiling brightly then flexed his wing trying to cover taller mare before turning back to the stallion. Eyes grew wide as he watched the male breaks into a sweat. Sharp ears hear the painful way his breaths seem to wheeze from him. Before the stud can say a word to him Miykael leans towards Megaera and the light shines and fades once more. His wing snaps back to his side as the stallion falls to the ground. He rushed forward. "Miykael! Rest and breath as deep as you can!" Fear trickled through his mind as he raises his wings to shade the other male. Even though he longs to help there is nothing he can do, but try to shade him and keep his distance.
"Grief never ends, but it changes. Its a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith. It is the price of love."
“Ranjiri...Ranjiri I can’t… can’t see…. can’t think.”
I heard Megaera's voice and I turned away from Ilios, almost immediately forgetting about the hybrid boy in favor of my sultana as she touched my side. "Calm down." I murmured to her as I reached to touch my nose against her, in turn. "It won't be forever ... it can't be." I had to hope that it was going to be like the boils that had plagued all of us after the first battle we'd fought in. Eventually it would just go away and we'd be okay. We'd be back to normal and ready for the next hurdle Helovia's gods threw at us.
"My name is Miykael. I'm a healer. I can."
"See?" I murmured to Meg when the stallion answered my question. "He said he can heal us." I was still looking at Meg when Miykael healed Ilios, but I could hear the difference in his voice. The incessant giggling had stopped, thank the gods, and he was standing, so it was true. This Miykael could heal us and make us normal again.
I could feel a warmth centered in my chest and I decided that it had to be Miykael's magic that I was feeling. I blinked my eyes and slowly the foggy shadows seemed to fade and I stopped smelling everything so intensely. I blinked again then looked at Ilios, Megaera, then finally Miykael. "Thank you." I whispered, grateful that someone was kind enough to heal not one, but three of us for sure that weren't in his herd.
He focused, next, on Megaera and seconds later he collapsed and my eyes went wide. "Oh no..." Ilios rushed forward to shade Miykael and tell him to breathe. "What do you need? How can we help?"
10-02-2015, 01:30 AM (This post was last modified: 10-02-2015, 01:32 AM by Megaera.)
megaera</style> so tell me why i should run for cover
at the sound of the coming thunder</style>
“Calm down.” the quiet murmur, the familiar voice, was the only thing that had mede her feel really in touch with the world all day. (Or at least she thought that it was day.) It was so hard to be sure of anything with her vision and mind so clouded. Her thought processes were slow and meandering, processing information just far enough to recognize that something was wrong, but she felt so drained, so out of place the it was never one hundred percent clear what or why. So when Meg heard a voice she knew, it was life a lighthouse on a foggy night.
Even though they really didn’t know each other that well, the sultana leaned close to the younger mare for comfort. Something was happening, that much she could tell. The bodies around her shifted in and out of focus with their movements but one seemed to reach out to all of them in turn. Meg could hear each speak but most of the meanings were lost one her save one word: healer. it broke into her contagiousness and, like Ranjiris voice have the mare hope instead of confusion and nerves so she leaned into it. When the wispy figure that was doing all the reaching moved towards her she did not recoil.
She feels the healer’s nose upon her chest and suddenly a warmth spreads It feels comfortable, familiar… a little like her own magic, she thinks, thought hers only gives light beyond her body. The warmth spreads slowly, seeming to melt away the congestion in her head and longs.
When here eyes cleared, the splashed healer was already collapsing before her. Meg blinked, drawing her head back in alarm in the second it took for her brain to catch up with what was going on. Ranger and Ilios had already rushed forward to the stallion the lay before her—the sources of the other voices she had heard must have departed—so Megaera a half step back. Ranjiri had asked all the questions that needed asking at this point, and Meg felt much obliged to help the stallion that had cured her without hesitation despite them never having met. She stood silent, waiting to see if there was anything she could do for the stud, poised to race of and find a healer for the healer if necessary.
He reassured their minds by his serenity. His countenance, wherein his soul was visible, expressed contempt for danger.
One by one they came, and one by one they left until only the last three remained. The small raven mare spoke of debts and all he could do is simply offer her a kind smile. She owes him nothing, though he knew arguments would likely ensue should he disagree. He is glad she heeds his warning and turns to head north but the healer keeps his gaze steadily on the unicorn mare. As the sickness leaves her, though, her demeanor completely changes. No longer is her stance aggressive. No longer does she spit words at him as though he were merely trash. She softens, hints of embarrassment coloring her words and movements. Yet again, he receives murmurings of debts and once again he can only offer a kind smile. And then, just as quickly as she arrived, she's gone.
It didn't bother him in the least that they had come and gone so quickly. In fact, it allowed him more time to cure as many as he can. The much younger stallion tries to stand when the dark mare arrives on the scene but he simply fails, giggling like a maniac. Miykael remains silent, preventing his own words from penetrating his concentration on the task at hand. That is, until the boy is healed and speaks again. His mother? He'd healed his mother? Puzzled, the healer shifts his blue orbs to gaze unseeing at a patch of thistles. Miykael digs through his own mind, searching through his memories until suddenly he remembers. "Parelia." her name is a mere gasp from his dark lips, his eyes hazed over as he buries himself in his own mind for a few moments. The memories are brief, though, and soon Miykael returns his gaze to the younger stallion. "It's my pleasure, Ilios. I'm only glad I can help." he declares with a small smile and warmth in his gaze.
But then his attention is on the dark mare beside Ilios. Once more his magic works. Once more does his magic obliterate the dark mess, purifying respiratory tracts and cleansing the lungs. Miykael almost misses Ranjiri's whispered thank you in his hurry to cure them all. "You're welcome." he says softly, warmly despite the ache in his head and the dizziness altering his vision. Megaera is next and she remains silent, not that he would have heard her anyway above the ringing in his ears after he'd fallen to the ground in a heap. The healer doesn't look at them, tries his best to focus elsewhere to steady his own vision. The younger male attempts to provide shade with his wings and both his and Ranjiri's words tickle Miykael's ears but for several moments he simply can't speak. His vision narrows, the pain sending waves of nausea crashing through his belly. After a few moments, he attempts a deep breath,, succeeding until the rough crackle in his chest interrupts him and sends him into a coughing fit. "I...I'm...I'm alright." he finally manages to say, though his own words are difficult to believe - even to his own ears. "I just need to rest... I've never healed so many... in such rapid succession." he concludes, attempting to plaster an optimistic smile to his face.
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
![[Image: mikey_by_moonstone_designs-d9dgnba.png]](http://orig02.deviantart.net/51ca/f/2015/290/e/5/mikey_by_moonstone_designs-d9dgnba.png)
![[Image: a0jmns.png]](http://i68.tinypic.com/a0jmns.png)
![[Image: 5581b91112f69]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5581b91112f69)
![[Image: silver_dreamer_mist_by_cantatus_promise-d8flci6.gif]](http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2015/027/d/b/silver_dreamer_mist_by_cantatus_promise-d8flci6.gif)
![[Image: mwaCGuX.gif]](http://i.imgur.com/mwaCGuX.gif)
