"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.
10-16-2015, 07:23 AM (This post was last modified: 10-16-2015, 07:24 AM by Knox.)
Ah, yes, better now.
It has been some time since this form has stretched his legs--how long, he wonders--and when he wakes he expects to find Essetia at his side. Will she be warm and familiar, still wet from the heart's falls, or will she be gone?
No, she is gone. Of course, what a fool the protector is to believe that such feelings could have been anything more than fleeting. He has missed so much, and he has forgotten that his host has found a new love, no, an old love, and made a family with her. Perhaps he never knew.
But whatever the circumstances, he wakes in the deep woods many days before this with his body under unfamiliar white feathers and a colt, standing in an awkward state of pain, by his side.
"Are you alright?" the protector asks the boy quietly and by way of waking under that familiar dark canopy.
And "no," the boy says with solemnity. Anaan understands that the child has never understood the concept of no, really, until then.
Manhattan is happy to see the protector, but Anaan will not go deeper into that old joy of a bond when he knows it isn't his. Still, he exhales softly on the retriever, noting her scarred side with concern, eyeing the burns with worry. They nuzzle each other, they greet the old days with familiarity. It is no secret that the protector is a better man than his host, that he was once a long time ago even a better father. Perhaps this is why he emerges, now.
But the little one doesn't recognize him, and he does not feel it is his place to explain. They walk together, strangers, the colt trusting him with an implicitness that is almost frightening. Days later, when they reach the shore and have learned much more about each other, they look out over the water and consider the situation.
"That's a long swim," Anaan says to the boy, lips stretching with a faint yawn brought on by journeying. Already, he is too tired for this fight.
"Yes," says the boy.
"Perhaps we should turn back," he says, turning to catch his own eyes on Milo's sharp ones. Manhattan paws at the water, already wishing to swim, but awaits further commandments.
"No," says the boy.
"Are you certain, Milo?"
A pause. "Yes," says the boy, though Anaan is not sure that Milo understands the full gravity of that agreement.
"Stay with me, I will teach you," says the protector as he and Manhattan flank the pained child, escorting him slowly across the water and closer to the opposite shore.
Knox is in the form of Anaan, the only character who would recognize this are ones who have previously met Anaan and no characters are aware of the fact that he is Knox unless they have seen him transform (Aylin, perhaps Archibald)
I'm gonna carry you in
In my head, in my heart, in my soul
This one has followed the stranger for a long time. Watched him, looked up, trusted because Manny trusted. He says he's friend. This one thinks about that--friend.
This one walks, hurts, feels [that unending pain that won't stop haunting me, the subtlety of a stiff ache. Not heartache but bone-ache, the sort that settles into you with more certainty than you can manage. But quietly, quietly,] everything quiet. Soft day, just sound of steps, steps, steps.
Water comes, this one looks out with stranger and dog.
"That's a long swim."
This one looks back, [furrows brow with the anxiety of not yet understanding, gets a grasp around new words for the first time, somehow created agreement with a fist in the chest and a grip around the throat.] "Yes."
"No."
A pause, this one tries to learn what the words mean. Doesn't know, can't know, just speaks: "Yes."
"Stay with me, I will teach you."
And then this one is moving, [ushered forth by two gentle tongues and guarding frames. I became infinite, in the water. Thrashing, first, then a delicate floating. Pain left me as weightlessness overcame me. No hurt without gravity, no gravity without soil, I became enraptured by the new capability that water lent me. A dragging, to be certain, characterized the motion but so did freedom. Until I was on that shore, I was free.]
This one pulls, moves, ground gets under. Stands, cold, [wet] and shaking. Above, big earth. Big dirt, big tree, big sky, big nature. This one wants [more, wants to know exactly how such a thing as religion functions. I want to know so I can believe in it all, without you teaching me, just by seeing.]
ULRIK & KIRCHOFF
Each point in space (and time) is associated with a vector that determines what force a moving charge would experience.
Your
The Engineer was not much for wandering, but Helovia was oddly vacant, scattered to one side of the map like lemmings. And today, he would be one of them. With a grimace on his dark lips, he sighed and wandered south, moving with the crowds toward an island across a thick channel. He scowled, not very much liking water, the ocean, or swimming. Not to say he couldn't swim, because he could, but this coupled with humidity made for swiftly broken machines. Thus, he left as many as he owned back in the World's Edge and pressed onward.
Methodically, he and Kirchoff swam to the other side, a scowl marring his otherwise darkly handsome features. He roughly shook out his coat and lion's tail before stalking off in the direction of voices. His ears were tilted back the entire time, not seeing his boy or many others he knew. Torleik must had stayed behind, but his scary bitch was here. Ulrik spied Deimos eventually and raised a brow. He actually ventured this far from the Aurora Basin? That was a first... A rarity, maybe.
A dark tower in the midst of color, he used his hawkish, golden eyes to scan the horizon for danger. The God of the Earth was the strongest of the gods, he believed, so he was not as worried. But, that did not mean that they could just relax. It was too early to celebrate. Eventually, he approached Ophelia and nodded a hello, not speaking much as he waiting the coming storm. Kirchoff grumbled next to him, shaking out his coat once more and sitting impatiently at Ulrik's side.
"You owe me big time for following your stupid ass here," the wolf mumbled in his head. Ulrik only grinned in response, shaking his head.
He had known it was coming. Nothing ever happened in Helovia like the god battles did, in perfect order. It was a fate he could not ignore, a duty that clawed and scratched at his ribcage, needing to be there. He had faith in the abilities of all the desert dwellers, but love and family also dictated he be there just in case those abilities ran short. Though as a crafter he'd not been privy to Ampere's heated disapproval of the soldiers, his heart ran alongside hers in opinion. He'd not hide away from the battle like a coward, no matter how the idea of seeing the Earth God again was daunting to him.
Of course he and Ilaria knew what would come next. God of the Spark, the Moon, the Sun. There was only one other God left, the one Cera had spent countless nights trying to understand, to forgive. At first he hadn't thought it possible, considering the grief that had swallowed him so completely following Hototo's death. It had taken him so long to fight past the desire to simply die, to follow his brother and father into the dark of the beyond, just to stop feeling so alone and broken. He'd almost gone to Ampere, or perhaps Gaucho, to beg once more for a death he'd questioned seasons before.
Megaera had been the light to guide him, after she and Ranjiri had propped him up after the battle with the Moon Goddess. Without her, he never would have made it to the Veins, to the broken shrine where he'd encountered the deity he thought he'd never be able to forgive. Shuddered beneath the weight of his bloodied, unforgiving past, her scorn pressing down upon him until he'd shattered and come back together more whole and steady than he'd ever been before. And in being able to understand, to forgive - or at least begin the long journey towards it - he had been able to seek and receive absolution from his Lord.
Until at last, at the very end of it all, lay the Earth God.
His forgiveness came slow, understanding that it was not the Earth God's fault that Hototo had made the choice he had. That Cera couldn't control Ranjiri killing someone any more than the Earth God could his sister. Being a deity did not make them infallible...and though Cera's heart would always throb with pain and sadness when he thought of Hototo, he was ready at last to forgive. If the Earth God would have him.
Cera and Ilaria had eyes for no one else as they alighted quietly in the crowd, slowly making their way towards the God. Eyes dropped, wings low, Ilaria curled around the base of his neck. A bond the Earth God had given him, so long ago. The one thing that had probably kept him alive, for an incompleted soul could not have ever withstood the trauma Cera had experienced.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, knowing the god would hear him, just as his Lord had in the previous battle. He bared his heart and mind, begging the deity to look within at his whim and will, and see all that Cera felt and all he asked for. "My heart was twisted with grief...I ask only your forgiveness, a chance at your side once more." It was a quiet sort of prayer, spoken though it was, and he cared not if anyone else heard him. It was private, meant for him and the Earth God alone, and he prayed for just one more little miracle. That he could rebuild the relationship he had once had with the Gods, the one that had led to him being made Diviner once upon a time.
It was hard to miss the sheer number of horses that traveled both by land and air in the same direction. Normally Snö wouldn't care why a group was traveling in the same direction, but this time (for some reason) she was curious. Maybe it was the fact that she'd seen some that belonged to the Edge and some that she knew belonged to the Basin that spiked that curiosity. Whatever it was she didn't spend much time thinking about it, she just followed until the sea was lapping at her frosted hooves. She watched as horse after horse plunged into the ocean and swam to an island in the distance.
Snö sighed and followed suit and stepped into the churning water. For a while she was able to dig her hooves into the sand below and shove herself against the current, but eventually the water was too deep and she was subjected to the tide and the waves. She snorted as salt water splashed in her face and eyes and ground her teeth together as she struggled to keep swimming, keep pushing herself until finally her hooves found purchase once more in the sand below. The icy girl dragged herself from the water, her ears flat against her head in a show of irritation that she'd swam so far just because she wanted to see what was drawing everyone to the island.
Stupid.
There was a well worn trail of hoof prints in the sand and Snö followed them until she finally reached the gathering. Her father, she noted, was present as was Ulrik and Cera and Ophelia. Rather than join the bulk of the group and gawk at the God of the Earth, as everyone called him, she stayed near the back, alone, and observed.
"."
Snö
you're looking at an absolute zero
i'm not the devil but i won't be your hero
10-16-2015, 04:16 PM (This post was last modified: 10-16-2015, 04:19 PM by Mordecai.
Edit Reason: Tags
)
from the dusty mesa her looming shadow grows hidden in the branches of the poison creosote
There was no way that Mordecai was going to be forced to sit out of another fight. Her father had instructed her mother to escort her off of the battlefield, which had been embarrassing enough. She was old enough to fight! She was old enough to take care of herself! And most importantly, she had discovered in the short time that she'd been on that battlefield that she was powerful. She had felt the heady thrum of magic in her veins, though she didn't know what exactly it was yet, she knew she was something more than any normal girl and she was hellbent on proving it to her mother and father.
Or ... just her father this time since her mother was far too fat to be any good in battle and Mordecai was fairly certain that the mare was far too heavy to be able to fly very far.
Whether or not Einarr noticed her flying behind him didn't matter to Mordecai. What was he going to do, yell at her to go back? He would have to physically drag her back to the Throat and make Megaera sit her fat ass on top of her to keep the dark girl from following him back to the battle ground she assumed he was heading for. He wouldn't do that, at least she didn't think he would. He wouldn't miss a battle. He wouldn't.
Einarr angled himself down toward the ground and Mordecai followed after him, though she landed several feet away from her father to be clear of his teeth should he be angry that she had followed him. She could already imagine him shouting at her that she had no business there, especially while she was sick, but the tar that dripped from her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth weren't going to hold her back. He could kiss her ass if he thought it would.
Mordecai shot her father a triumphant look as she danced away from him because she could smell Abraham and, more importantly, his dragons. "Where the hell have you been?" She snapped, in perfect common tongue (thanks to her sickness, perhaps?) as she reached him and, in typical Mordecai fashion she nipped at the stallion's shoulder.
The last thing she expected was for her vision to begin to swim, almost like she was underwater looking up at the world above. She blinked and snorted, shook her head and damn near lost her balance. "The fuck ...?" She snapped as she glared at the one stallion that usually didn't annoy her, only now he was annoying her more than anyone else.
The familiar pull of something going on drew me out from the Throat for the first time in what seemed like weeks. I had been in hiding since the first fight due to those awful boils. At least they were gone now. Gone thanks to my new magic from the God of the Spark and my discovery of such magic. He had been right, it was not a magic for me to take lightly. The vision I had seen, well it would take a very long time before I would talk to anyone about it.
When the pull began to tug, I lifted my wings and took to the skies. I was not the only one as it seemed several others from the Throat had done the same. It did not take me long to arrive, and I was thankful for this as many others had already shown up. Sure enough, the God of the Earth stood proud at his new land. I listened as several gave him warnings of what was to come. Meanwhile I braced myself and looked for those I cared about. Several were here, and I took up a position next to Thantos. I offer a smile to the stallion I had not seen since the first fight, simply glad to be rid of those boils. But also wondering what infected god we would all face next. Would we all get sick again with some other infection? Or would the God of the Earth have a better plan for that than his siblings before him?
"Sed interdum rutrum urna, sed pellentesque sapien tempor in."
Please Tag Amani in All Posts
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Amani at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing her.
The strange feeling I got, pulled me from the safety of the Edge. Little Dae, barely five months old now moves along with me. Both of us fear being outside of each other's sight. So we make the trip from the Edge to the Flats. We had watched as others came and went. I did not know much however, but what I did know was that we needed to get the island everyone seemed to be crossing to. I looked at Dae, worried that she would not make the swim. Go back to the Edge little one. She bleated in fear. I have to admit I didn't like the idea either but I wouldn't risk her in these waters.
Without another word I wade in, and I started off strong. It wasn't until I was almost to the other side that I was starting to grow tired. That was when I heard her. The strangled fearfully bleating sound of my bonded. I could feel her fear. Tired as I was, I turned around to see her struggling to swim behind me. Oh Dae. I sighed in my thoughts as I move to swim along side her and help my little bonded on across.
We finally make it, completely exhausted. I stumbled towards the crowd, but quickly right myself and hold my head high. I was royalty after all, even if I am not from this land. I will always be a princess. Dae steps lightly at my side and I move to stand next to Tembovu. He was the only face I knew right off. I hoped I would be safest here. What is going on here? I speak softly, hoping the taller stallion would hear me.
Typi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legentis in iis qui facit eorum claritatem.
VITANI
When we look up at the stars, we see only the memory of light; and though they are distant we know they still shine
We followed others one again. Moving as fast as my yearling legs and Sarabi's eight month old legs could carry us. At the Flats, we stopped. Did we really want to do this? Did we really want to follow everyone else? Hell yes we did! As one we race forward into the waters. We struggled as a team to make it across, but thankfully the strength from my Daddy carried me on and my body protected Sarabi from the worst of the current. The waters kept me calm, but stirred my magic inside. If it went like the last time, with the Moon Goddess, I would have time to use it again.
As we pull ourselves up on the beach, I see him. I see the asshole who had taken away my feather. Without a second thought I march over to him and snort. "That feather belonged to my Momma who's dead. I want it back and I want it back NOW!" My dual color eyes look at him. He may of thought he was cute and sneaky, but it reality he was just one big huge JERK! Sarabi whines next to me, ready to burn his ass if he tried to harm me.
Course now everyone around me knew what a little nasty thief he was, stealing from a little girl. Not just that, but stealing something that had belonged to her dead mother. Maybe with any luck, someone would come to my aid and help me take it back.
"Talk"
Sarabi Talks
OOC - Marches over to Abraham and demands her Earth God feather back from him.
stars in your multitudes, scarce to be counted. filling the darkness with order and light.
You are the sentinels. silent and sure. keeping watch in the night.
Like a moth drawn to a flickering flame the silken maiden was absorbed in the rich magic that resonated through the air. Along with the other creatures she found herself drawn to this power. Granted she did not go blindly. Nuray had an understanding of what was going to happen. Or rather what was expected to happen due to previous events. This amount of pure magic could only belong to that of a god. Every time she had encountered a Helovian God, however, it wasn't under peaceful circumstances. As much as she wanted to learn about them she couldn't due to the wicked taint that had been following the gods.
Her ears, trickles of blood dripping from the insides, twitched in irritation. When would these self proclaimed gods that entered this world be aware that their corruption was no much for them. Like all the rest, if one did indeed come, it would be culled and the land purified. In the end the purity of Helovia would not falter.
Long limbs stroked with ease through the water as the pale figure kept her golden eyes on the island that so many were swimming to. When the currents came she simply rode them out. The tides were controlled by the Moon, she knew how to aptly cross the treacherous waters.
Upon arrival she gently shook herself. Already water was rolling off of her naked limbs as there was no hair for the liquid to cling to. It didn't take long to notice the god. A great behemoth that embodied all of the correct and wonderful attributes of the earth. "A pleasure to meet you, m'lord." While the mare had pledged herself to the Moon that did not mean she did not respect the other gods. In fact, her curiosity drove her to learn more about them.
All of the chit-chat made her want to yell at everyone to shut up because by the heavens was her head hurting. Ever since the battle with the crocodile scum her ears leaked blood and her skull felt as if it was splitting into two. Nuray longed to hide in the shadows of her Goddess fore everything was too bright. The concentration it took to see what was what through the bright veil only added to the throbbing of her head.
Quietly she skulked to a shady spot: close enough to the God in case something happened yet far enough away to avoid anyone approaching her. Hopefully. Nuray was hardly in the mood for a conversation.
"Talk?"
mentions only the god of earth. ooc nuray arrives and is suffering from HFH. she sits off to the side to watch and wait while praying no one bugs her because she might bite their heads off =D
10-16-2015, 05:24 PM (This post was last modified: 10-16-2015, 05:58 PM by Mirabella.
Edit Reason: cured of GLL in thread prior to this and I only just saw it
)
So the talk with the Moon Goddess had seemed to go good. At the very least, the ooze had finally stopped. I could see clearly and breathe again without that sick shot getting everywhere. Oh what a relief it had been! I hadn't really noticed that fact until I had reached the Blood Falls on my way back to the Basin. The crap however had stopped just in time for me to run into that very fun stallion in the Blood Falls. Hmm, what was his name again? Maybe i'll have to become a sneak a track him down. I lose my train of thought as thagt familiar tug changes my path from the Basin down south. I'm all game for a fight now that I can think and breathe clearly.
That is until I reach the waters. Damn it. Swimming. Wait.... Who am I kidding. I don't have to swim! Screw everyone else! I can make portals! I focus my magic, and with glee one opens. I keep focusing, making sure that I would come out where I wanted to. Once I was sure I ran forward and leaped through. I could feel the one end close behind me and the other end open ahead of me. I surge ahead as it opens and pop out nice and dry on the island with everyone else. HA! Maybe I will charge everyone else to get back across once this is over with. I linger at the back of the crowd, waiting to see what would happen. It was Earthy, so this much be his new land. Wonder what beast will try to stop him?
"Sed interdum rutrum urna, sed pellentesque sapien tempor in."
I'm braver, because I fought a giant and won.
I'm stronger, because I had to be.
I'm happier, because I've learned what matters.
I stand taller, because I'm a survivor.
There is hesitancy to their gestures as they cross the bridge he has made for them. Even the prospect of freedom was not enough to make them trust him - a god just as the ones that had enslaved them initially. It's a sad sight but he welcomes them with calm aura and open smile, as he does the Helovians who trickle in with grim faces and shifting eyes. Smile begins to drop. His siblings had been working simultaneously along the coast, their goals similar. What had happened? His flock held the sign of foreign ailments, and the God's frown drew deeper. What had gone wrong?
His eyes find those who give him praise, meeting their gazes and smiling, head tipping to acknowledge their faith. Ktulu among them is familiar, and a slight softening of regret - or perhaps sympathy - came upon his features. "Ktulu," he spoke softly in turn as his title fell from her mouth. There was nothing more he could say to her, not yet. Isopia draws him away, alighting upon his withers with soft pricks of her form’s claws, and he turns to her with a paternal smile. "My child," he greets warmly. She, at least, seemed to be well. Perhaps his blood had helped protect her in ways he had not foreseen.
Instead she reported the evidence of the prior battles, and his brow drew close. "Battles? And what of this sickness?" He trusted she'd be an impartial communicator, as was her nature, and as a child meant to hold the balance of Helovia it was partially her duty to be informed and aware. It disturbed him that every land his siblings had taken had ended up a battleground rather than a safe haven. A bloodbath the Helovians had clearly been sucked into. Had the battles been with the Gods of the Rift? He'd not expected his brother of the Sun, at least, to have engaged in such brutality. Vain and temperamental he could be, they were the calmer balance to the other two. His own wariness crept upon him, doubting suddenly the contract and agreement of the God he had dealt with. Had he underestimated the sickness of the deity, the cunning? It was something that he would have to think upon, lingering in this land for longer than intended, ensuring he did not make the same mistake.
The Rift children follow through with varying states of emotion upon them, and he turns his mighty head towards the lashing words of Aquila. Following her tone another speaks, softer but just as wary of this new land he has taken them to. Or, was from the correct phrase? “There is no price. The Gods of Helovia are not as cruel as your former deities.” Then, to Dacianna, “A new realm, if you will. The sickness does not reach here, nor do your gods.” At least, the Earth God hoped so. The news of his sibling’s battles was…beyond disconcerting. He hoped not to be found wrong in his words, though oath it was not. Tembovu, at least, greeted the Riftians as welcomingly as the God had hoped, and he spared the mighty steed a smile for it. They would be Riftians no longer, if they chose to pursue the freedom he’d offered them. Eyes flit across Dragomir and Ranjiri as they greet him, dipping his head to acknowledge their respect in then.
Archibald speaks to supplement Isopia’s message. The deity frowns, face like crumbling rock as his fears are confirmed. Gods, then. Or, at least they were, their deaths implied through his daughter’s words. “That is troubling news indeed,” he rumbled. Vocals were grave, for peaceful though he was, he would not hesitate to fight and kill to protect those who placed so much faith in him. Perhaps he could break the fated chain his siblings had been lashed with.
But it would do him well to remember that the Helovians, too, had felt the brunt of those wars. Mauja’s words were caustic and weary, and Earth turned his head to face the spotted stallion with a cool but understanding look. “I would hope no one, but I cannot control the actions of another god or the sway and tide of battle if it falls upon us.” Did they really think he could look out for each of them individually? That he controlled which lives were spirited away in the chaos? Or were they simply looking for a target, someone to lash out against, to blame for the loved ones they had lost? That, at least, was a familiar song, he thought to himself, eyes catching on all the ones who had cursed his sister’s name (or even his own) when she had gone on her murdering spree. Quite like Cera, whom he noted with a gentle "There is nothing to forgive."
The children of the Gods all gather round, Mesec beneath a glowering Ampere whom he gracefully ignores rather than inciting her simmering anger, Aithniel who stands alone, Isopia upon his shoulder. Roskuld he does not see, but he relishes in the fact that they are doing their duty, fulfilling their destinies and protecting the citizens of Helovia. It is a time of celebration, and Abraham leads the chorus of praise, earning his attention and an appreciative smile. A gift he hoped it would be, at least.
Ah, speaking of gifts…
“Isopia,” he called softly, turning great head to glance back at her, if she so remained upon his withers. “Your half-siblings have preceded you, but I have not forgotten you my child. I am proud of you, for doing your duty and ensuring the balance of Helovia remains through these battles.” She was not the type to feel the love he had for her, but it was present nonetheless, thick in his words as pride bloomed like blossoming flowers in his chest. Perhaps the companion would remind her of those virtues, allow her affection to close the distance at which she kept herself from all others.
Wing cupped forward, an orb gently rolling down his feathers to the primaries where he held it gently. “This is for you.” From the ground a small pedestal of vines and leaves arose to clasp the egg in its embrace, Isopia’s raven form incapable of holding the egg’s commendable size. It was a soft green, errant patterns of foliage upon the shell that were lined in spidery veins of gold and bronze. She would care for it, and perhaps it would ease the loneliness in her heart and give her a companion that would always understand her oddities.
He was late, what a shocker. The golden stood on the opposite shore, with his cloak of invisibility hung over him protectively. His earth eyes had stood and watched as others, called by the same senses that brought him, crossed the water to a mound of earth resting menacingly across the waves. He was hesitant though. At every birth of a land there had been a fight, an all-out brawl, and never had he left them with an unbroken step. Why should he risk his own life and limb when others were clearly capable of doing it all by themselves.
But there was another side of him which he could not deny which called him like a moth to flame. He was ever so curious. With his mind and body mostly restored the golden had come back into his self. The hazy days of his sickness were ill remembered, and he did not necessarily want to go back there. So a distraction was in order. A splash out in the waves called his attention to the small dark shadow leaping about. Haldir had had his own struggles in the last few weeks. And as plans were laid and calculations made the golden moved towards his companion, exhaling low and slow as he did so, allowing gears to turn, and under the cloak and transformation to take place.
Now as he walked towards the deer the ground shook slightly, and large hoof prints marked the sand. Hidden under the cloak was a hazy form of Isopia. The demi god’s form was tainted of course being reflected so poorly for her lineage, it mattered not, he was not stealing her form for that purpose. [In elvish] “Haldir, wait here.” The dark deer jumped slightly. They may be able to speak through their bond but they still only rarely ever did so. “No, I go. I can swim.” A growl rumbles through the air. ”Remember last fight?” That did it, the deer visibly cowed, hanging his head. ”Wait here, Haldir.” The small form only turned and walked off. The large demi god shook her head, and turned back inland.
The large hoof prints lead to the dunes. Though small they are all he needed. For you see the golden had no intention of getting his hooves wet today. Taking a running start up the largest dune he could find the giant demi god hefted into the air. Even experienced in this manner of take off it was still a struggle, and for a moment as he leapt into the air it seemed impossible, but the wings held. For though Isopia was large, her wings were powerful. So the golden soared over the riptides, albeit not easily, and came landing, on the other side. He was glad no one could see that ungraceful and tedious flight. Moving through the trees he let his breath exhale. But then he gained a strange mood. A thread of desire for something he hadn’t felt in a long time. A mischievous grin rising on his face and another long slow exhale turning the gears.
When his form stepped, uncloaked into the open area of battle it was not golden. Instead a dapple grey coat, like snow of his mountain home, covered him, and a single horn rose from his head. Cashmere’s form had long sat in his vault and it was high time to make some use of it. Shaking her delicate head the mare comes to stand by her herd mates (or what used to be at least the golden mused). She smiled and nodded her head to those around and looked up to the earth god with most pleased expression. But as she grew close to Archibald, just within the right distance, she takes a long slow inhale, and gears within click and lock in place. Her grin grew wider as the great god announced peace, but not for that reason.
OOC :: Thranduil INVISIBLY waits till everyone has gone, then flies across as @Isopia, leaving Haldir. He lands, shifts into Cashmere, GOES VISIBLE and walks into the crowd. He stands near @Archibald, and steals his identity.
So to recap:
Identities:: Cashmere, Isopia, Erebos, Archibald (added)
"Speech"
The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the waterspout.
Down came the rain
and washed the spider out.
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.
10-17-2015, 06:52 PM (This post was last modified: 10-17-2015, 07:21 PM by Zenobia.)
I felt the warmth of the Wildfire before he even landed. Muscles tensed as my posture began to coil like a spring. At any moment I was ready to jump into action. All the while the atmosphere became heavier and heavier. My facial features hardened as it was hammered into a serious expression. This was no time to be joking around. I knew better than that. A loose canon I might be but unlike some believed I did have restraints.
"Ave." I greeted simply with a nod. Side by side we would strike: father and daughter. There was no better team than one bound by blood. While I had been away for awhile, when I was little I would study his moves. Every action he took memorized me as a child. Hopefully I would be able to recall some of his strategies as I did not wish to get in his way. He came to stand by me, to fight beside me. I'd do my damn best to make him proud. (Although I'd be slightly annoyed if I knew he was here to keep an eye on me - like dad I'm almost four.)
A jet black pegasus that smelled of the dunes landed next to Pa. Curiously he spoke in my father's native tongue. A relative? I eyed the stallion before returning my gaze to the Earth God whom was addressing the crowd. Just as I had feared reports were being given to the God. Was he aware of this already? The Earth was stable and patient yet if these "Rift Gods" had been able to slip by his siblings what would make this differently? I prayed Lord Earth had a plan. Though my heart beat for a fight my mind knew the repercussions of battle.
As he turned to talk to his daughter - at least I think that's what he called her - I felt a slight wave of green wash over me as my gaze caught sight of the companion egg. All the days I spent wandering alone would have went by so much faster with someone by my side. Although I wouldn't have been alone if I had never left in the first place. I shook my head as if to cease these thoughts and instead let out a whinny in celebration.
Though I remained alert and on guard I finally addressed the warrior now that the Earth God had stopped talking (after all I don't think anyone wanted to interrupt a god). "M’athchomaroon, lajak." I kept my tone formal as I held myself with the grace my mother had blessed me with. "Zenobia." I offered my name as the pleasantries continued. "Gaucho's ohara."
Phew. Glad my father's native tongue still felt so natural as it came out with an ease.
"That feather belonged to my Momma who's dead. I want it back and I want it back NOW!" A feisty, young voice caught my attention and I found myself leaving my herd's side (without saying anything oops sorry ma). "Don't worry, darling. We'll get your feather back." I stared at the one she demanded answers from. "Someone of your size would steal from a young filly?" My gaze did not waver as I stared at him. "Have you no dignity? No honor?" Ears pressed against my skull as my tail flicked. I would not standby as this young filly desperately challenged for her mother's feather back. "I advise you give it back. This young one has been through enough. Surely you would not be so terrible as to keep her memento of her late mother in your possession?"
I was so not going to let a stallion that was bigger than me (and probably massive from the yearling's point of view) pick on someone much younger and smaller. Somehow I managed to keep my voice calm and polite, which was probably due to being in the presence of the Earth God. Y'know.. Kinda wanna be on your best behavior. But I could not simply turn a blind eye to this.
mentions@Gaucho@Einarr@Abraham@Vitani translationsAve: father. M’athchomaroon: a formal greeting. lajak: warrior. ohara: daughter. ooc addresses her father, listens quietly to the earth god, greets einarr, and then goes to assist vitani with abraham.
Lazily Isopia watched as a good portion of Helovia congregated around her Father's impressive bulk. Some asked questions of him, some offered devotions, and still others seemed entirely disengaged, sarcastic, or even angry. It made her internally curious, as to just what their justifications could be. Mauja for instance (not that she knew his name) seemingly and with obvious tone, wanted to know if there were to be any more murders. How would her Father know that? To the girl's inquiring mind, it seemed that they placed more responsibility upon the Gods, simply because of who they were. Why didn't the mortals know if there were going to be murders? Well because they were just born mortal - there was nothing that they could do. And yet that same blame-shifting mentality did not transfer to the Gods. They had not done anything to be given the gifts and status that they attained, and yet were meant to be the keeper of the answers, and dictators of fate. It was laughable really - like an illusion of an image inside of an image. It was all the same - they were just too small to see it.
As her Father called her name - in front of everyone, the raven-girl hissed under her breath. They really don't know everything she cursed silently, agreeing with her previous line of reasoning. She wanted to fly away - to claw his broad back with her talons as she did so. Perhaps she could even dislodge a boulder to fall upon him - ahh, but of course none of those options were viable. Other than likely suicidal, any movement on her part would likely draw more attention to her, and her name having been said. So instead, she merely shuffled her feathers, pretending to simply be interested in what her Father had to say.
However as he continued, the girl wished she really had departed.
His praise rolled off of her blackened feathers as water would. It was inconsequential - she had merely done her duty. She does not expect, or appreciate praise for breathing, and to her mind, aiding her godly relatives and doing her part in keeping Helovia safe, is merely another bodily function that she carries out.
But
This is for you
Her talons tightened slightly on his course black mane, as she dipped her beak forward to watch him present the egg to her. The weight of the responsibility he was offer felt like it had already crushed her - and she silently wondered how she could reject his offering. Her body moved even as her mind fervently tried to find a solution to this damned problem. The raven-girl hopped to the edge of her Father's shoulder and neatly jumped towards the ground, transforming in one elegant movement. Her forelegs touched down even as her raven feathers were disappearing into her long russet tail.
Wide golden eyes inspected the egg, propped so delicately upon the pedestal of foliage that he had created. Swallowing hard, the girl used her own watery magic to coax the egg from its resting place. The cradle of water glided the egg close to her body, where one of her mis-matched wings raised to gently cup its circumference. "I will care for it." She vowed, which was about as close to a thank-you as she was ever going to give.
Awkwardly she moved to stand on the outside of the group - wanting to evade any eyes which had fallen upon her during her transition and taking of this 'gift'
“I would hope no one, but I cannot control the actions of another god or the sway and tide of battle if it falls upon us.”
At least this god bothered to answer him—worn and tired and passive-aggressive, but the God did not chide him for that. Not quite, anyway, and yet it wasn't what he had wanted. What he had longed to hear. I would hope—but Gods were fallible, and these Gods were up against other Gods, and in the ensuing mayhem.. who even knew? They could not protect everyone; would not, maybe.
So why did they do this? To liberate the lost souls of the Rift? But if they were not capable enough to destroy the Rift gods, why had they not simply asked Helovia's mortals for aid? They could've prepared—practiced—honed their skills, said their farewells, made arrangements... Come into it useful and on edge, a coherent unit instead of a mishmash of strangers charging from every direction. Mauja was still certain he'd killed that fucking colt the first time around, so why did he walk around now like nobody's business?
"I see," he simply responded, something cold and distant in his voice—not what he had meant to say, so with a frown he corrected himself. "Thank you." Earth hoped no one would die. What more could he ask for? Divine protection for all of those he held dear? It didn't work that way.
Maybe what he wanted was warning. A heads-up for the risks being brought into Helovia. Watching Earth turn to others, move on from the brooding darkness sitting in a marble statue's frozen heart, Mauja turned away too. As an individual, he was worthless to them. As part of an incoherent group, he had value.
He had never felt more alone, and with a closed-off look upon his face Mauja drifted to the edges of those gathered, finally disappearing into the shadows.
He had longed to trust Sol's promise of peace, but it had been false. So he would wait here. Wait for the Gods to begin their war again.
Wait for the sound of his heart breaking.
[ Mauja responds to the Earth God and then drifts to the sidelines. ]
10-18-2015, 11:35 AM (This post was last modified: 10-18-2015, 11:50 AM by Volterra.)
YOU CAN'T STRAY FROM WHAT YOU ARE
YOU'RE THE CLOSEST THING TO HELL I'VE SEEN SO FAR
As ever, crowds quickly begin to mill, made up of familiar faces and strangers alike. Slowly the Earth God addresses several of them, but Volterra's greeting nod is ignored - he doesn't dwell, as the deity is a busy man and the behemoth prefers deeds to empty words anyway. Öde approaches, and his relative receives a nod from the young stallion. "I'm always ready," he replies, a smirk of bloody glory beginning to spasm across his face.
One of the lucky few the God addresses is his daughter, perched on his back...and he addresses her by name in his great, booming voice. At the unexpected development, the giant's head flicks up, ears riveting forwards.
Isopia. Her name is Isopia. Somehow, although he has never heard the word before, it fits her, like a hand fits a glove.
But strangely, finding out this forbidden piece of information does not fill the beast with the glee he thought it would. It feels...wrong, somehow. He knows how private her name is to her, and her father has just declared it to the whole damn clearing in an offhand way that does not fit the levity of the situation. Rather than breaking out into the shit-eating grin he'd imagined he would if he ever found out her name, he instead smothers a wince and an unbidden pang of sympathy for her. She will be furious, he is sure. She hasn't even told him - and he likes to think he is close to her - her name, and now an island full of strangers know it. The behemoth always imagined he would find out one day, but that she would be the one to tell him, in a moment of deep friendship and trust. Not like this, a throwaway comment by a man who should know better.
The information feels wrong, dirty. He almost wishes he hadn't heard it, because now he has been robbed of that moment he'd pictured for so long. And she's been robbed of being the one to tell him - robbed of a choice that should have been soley hers.
But, as though to make amends for his faux pas, the great earthen God presents an egg to his raven daughter, an egg that glistens and glows and makes the crimson dragon in the sky release a small blast of frost. She has a companion. Whatever it is remains to be seen, but the notion of seeing Isopia with a bonded partner is an alien prospect. He remembers her attending the giveaway of the golden dragon egg, won by the unworthy Abraham - who is being harried by a filly he apparently stole from, and why does that not surprise Volterra in the slightest - which would certainly signal her desire for a companion, yet the beast cannot picture her with one. Tending to it, loving it, raising it...That requires empathy, and that is something he does not associate with the earth girl.
All the same, the giant wanders towards his friend, who shifts from bird to young mare as she leaves her father's back then moves to the outskirts of the group. The beast offers the Earth God another nod - got another shiny egg under there for me? - but his attention is focused fully on Isopia. "Kis hollo," he greets, deliberately using his name for her and not the name he has just learned, as if to undo him ever having heard it and to try and put her at ease that she will always be his little raven, even now he knows her true name. "You will need to keep it warm, and prepare meat for when it hatches." Of course, it may not be a dragon, but he has yet to meet a herbivorous companion.
___________
Addresses Ode, then speaks to Isopia about her egg.
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ] [ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
Just the beating of hearts, like two drums in the grey.
Archibald the Dauntless
& Loretta the Fierce
The massive stallion pressed his shoulder into the shoulder of his Champion when the Earth spoke her name. While his voice was full of emotion--remorse, Archibald decided--he knew Ktulu would still need him. Her pain was great in the wake of losing her son--the son of the Earth God--and watching now as the deity doted on his new daughter would be no help to ease that pain. The Dauntless would not be surprised if the Constrictor turned and left this place, but he hoped she would not. If battle were to come, Archibald wanted her at his side. Even with his pounding head, and twisting stomach, he would fight valiantly with his Champion. Sighing, Archibald shifted his weight some.
Archibald lifted a single brow when the God spoke his child's name. The Dauntless had yet to receive it, and now he banked it away. Isopia, he thought, rolling the name over on his tongue. Surely Kahlua had not named her that--Archibald suspected it was from the God, or the child herself. Kahlua, as passionate as she was, was not as sophisticated as to give a name such as Isopia. An amused snort left Archibald's nostrils, though he turned his head quickly when his son's voice rang out from the crowd. A flicker of pride, like a flame on a candle wick, warmed his breast. The son that resembled him so closely was singing praises to the God that had gifted his brother, mother, and father. Golden eyes danced on Abraham's companions, and a small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. A queen. Loretta mused over the bond, tail wagging at the sight of the obsidian son. Loretta loved Archibald's children, for they were her's. She protected them, taught them, loved them as much as Archibald and Circe had. Now, in Abraham's strength, she shared Archibald's pride for the son of hellion. The smile on Archibald's lips turned into a frown, however, when the filly plodded her way toward Abraham. Face hardening, Archibald called to his herd's ward. "Vitani! Come here." The Dauntless commanded, voice full of the authority he held as Czar and as a father.
Turning his eyes back to the God, he watched as he presented Isopia with an egg. He recognized the way the shell glittered from when his son had protected his own egg. Perhaps it was a dragon, though it could be anything--the demi-god held all three species in her blood, and her bond possibilities were endless.
He waited: a patient, diligent cretin, bent on the presumption of bloodshed. He’d been here before, understood the cycle, had listened to the promises, the oaths, the convictions of Gods, then helped murder the ones who came after, over and over and over again. The miniature fiend might have gone on drifting upon the water, pondering the art of ruin, of disaster, of bedlam, had angry, embittered voice not caused his attention to swing: diverted from the means and measures of mayhem, and onto the toils of other circumstances. He tilted an ear, maneuvered closer to a growing crowd, fixed his observations and scrutiny upon the nestled throng – something about a feather, stolen from a mother or a child…he trickled away from the water, slinking and slithering off his throne, sank upon the shore, and advanced, drawn by the intricacies of barbarity, the structures of chaos. A Pegasus femme dressed in ivory, demanding, begrudging and resentful, a filly begging for her trinket back; and in the center of it all – Him. The scion would recognize him anywhere: though he’d been altered, morphed since their meeting across the frozen arches – bigger, broader, white dragon looming with one more nearby (as if he needed another addition to his oppressive army), but still carrying that same twisted foundation, that same treacherous build, that same hateful, condemning veneer. How many more had he mauled in between their meetings? How many more had he ravaged and savaged and ruined? For feathers? For glory? For bragging rights? All of the prince’s loathing seemed wholly reserved for him - a murderer who slayed gilded children across the outcrops with naught valid reason, no standing point, pretending to be a god when he held no command, no sovereignty, no rule – and he felt the essence of condemnation stirring between his veins, molten and incensed, bestial and barbaric. It was a restless spiral, distorting and unfurling around his throat, within his chest, beating a steady, soulless drum, savage and rapacious, predatory and gleaming, and Orsino hummed along, vicious and cruel, whispering and hissing through their balanced thread, immorality and unholy regard gathered and tethered in one knot after another. He remembered the notion of revenge, the weight it carried, and the solidified savage, sinister boughs hung over his shoulders; and how he’d borne them all for Arwen, over many miles and seasons and memories. He marched, he seethed, he boiled and brewed, stomping over the grounds until he took a place near the winged femme, conjuring a buried menace, a harbored, harpooning vehemence. “You,” he snarled, recalling the fallen frame of his friend, remembering the way her body laid battered, a startling red against a cold, stark, desolate backdrop, gone before he could have ever rescued her, massacred for no reason at all. “He also murders children,” he spoke into the void, into the hollowed reaches of his hate and ardor and abhorrence, pinning one more crime against the beast who seemed intent on picking upon the innocent, upon thriving over those weaker and smaller than he – a heathen of the lowest form, a bully, a tyrant.
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