"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.
11-28-2015, 11:49 AM (This post was last modified: 11-28-2015, 11:51 AM by Odd.)
Rhoa
Like ships in the night
Well, I suppose I am fairly certain now that things will have to change. Gone are the days of wishing and wanting Ivezho and Mother to return, as once they did.
I still remember seeing Ivezho, in all of his subtle embering glory, appearing over a dune. Did it even happen at all? Was it all a dream? He was there - and we were together again. But so quickly he disappeared, that it felt more like a dream, than a real memory. A blackened and blue part of me wishes that I had embraced Mother one more time - that I had taken the opportunity to marvel in her simplistic beauty, and to ingrain her scent in my mind. But those opportunities were squandered on and by the ignorance and selfishness of youth. I thought there would be more time.
I thought so many things.
The cold seems to put things in perspective. Even though I'm sure it will be much colder here in Frostfall, the stinging sensation of the ice makes me remember that I am mortal. I have needs that need to be met, regardless of my lofty ideals. I know now that I must flourish and thrive if I am to do their memories justice. I cannot hang on to the desires of my youth. If I want family, I will have to make it for myself.
And so I stand, the last burning effigy of the glory of Sohalia and Gaucho. The softly burning fire on the inside of my wings pulses like the last embers of a dying fire. They have since my birth, but as I've grown, their metaphorical power seems all the more fitting.
I am Rhoa, the dying ember.
I am Rhoa, the last.
A small smile parts my handsome features, and I allow my sea-green gaze to settle lazily on the white expanses of the landscape. I am nothing here - just one breathing body in a world of white. Somehow, that makes me feel better.
Maybe to check on my mother from afar? Had she noticed my disappearance yet? If she had, why wasn't she looking for me? Maybe she figured I was fine. Nothin to worry.
But I knew the dangers of being on the steppe. My mother kept a tight ship as a corporal, and there are sure to be patrols on the steppe, at some point. But I needed to see it again. So I had traveled back to the north, to feel the cold air on my black coat, the wintery weather in which I had been born into.
I moved to a roach, one I recognized. I had met someone here, Cetan. And then he had disappeared. He had been skittish, and nearly fallen to his death when I had accidentally startled him. It wasn't like I had snuck up on him though. A smile pushed my lips up when I thought of it, and my eyes lifted to look into the Basin below. Flecks of occasional movement caught my eyes, but from here, I couldn't tell most of them apart.
My head turns slowly, and my body follows. I head further north, each step taking me further into the vast white landscape. I had lost track of time, and I was no longer paying attention. Eventually I was bound to come across another soul.
The scent of a stallion reaches my nostrils, and my eyes move up to across the white tundra. He is black against it, like I was. A contrasting difference to the snowy drift. Dark in the brightness. His wings are relaxed on either side of him, and I wonder, why is he all alone?
Slowly I move closer, taking my sweet time. I am behind him, and I'm unsure of what I should do. Confront him? Make conversation? I resist the urge to sigh, and I move easily around him. As I pass, my head turns to look at him as I pass. I hesitate as I pass his front end, for he was quite lovely. But eventually my foot touches the ground adpnd I continue past him, my face eventually turning away as ?I may have sashayed away.
Would you stop me from walking away pretty bird? I really hope you do pretty bird.
She is like a vision of lovliness, dancing across my vision.
She appears like a night wind, delicate, cold and silent. She contrasts this desolate landscape in the way that I do - black on white, but she sparkles in a way that I cannot replicate. I burn silently, never quite being used up. But she? She appears to shine. Yet she blends into this nightmarish frost as I do, in that we are alone here.
Does anyone else even exist? Are we, the two of us, the last? And if we are, what's to become of us? What does this moment hold?
Her gaze catches mine, and I feel my breath catch in my throat. I want to etch this moment into my memory, to forestall the inevitable weight that I will feel when she leaves. She is off somewhere, isn't she? Off to someone, something better? And I? I will just remain here, shan't I? Alone, in the white, and the cold and the -
"It's as if there is no one else left in the world." My voice betrays me, and I reach out to her with my words to usher her to stay. Perhaps it is merely instigating heartache - surely she will decline and leave? - but if this dream is to remain such, and not become a nightmare, I need this angel in black to be at my side.
I inhale deeply. The air is crisp, and clean, and somehow the purity of it strikes me as compelling. I exhale in a long, wintery stream of white frost.
12-01-2015, 11:27 PM (This post was last modified: 12-01-2015, 11:28 PM by Glacia.)
At first my heart sinks, because I think maybe he wont speak, and I will be left wandering further into the cold north. But he does, and I could dance with joy. Yes, yes, yes.
"It's as if there is no one else left in the world."
My heart seems to do flips as I slow to a halt, and my head turns towards him. Ears flip softly forward towards him to catch the sweet deep rolling of his voice. My bright blue eyes study his dark frame, his wings, and the white legs. They move up to his head, his wonderfully smooth hornless forehead.
In the Basin, there was no one without one, and I had never been close enough to truly study it. My eyes slip to look at his teal ones. His where not as icy as mine, but warmer. More inviting. My eyes where the frozen glaciers of my name sake. His the warm mediterranean sea, with white sands.
Slowly my body moves to face him. I feel as if I am leaving the silence for to long, but it is so comfortable. What if from his point of view, I am just standing here, dumbstruck, and staring at his beautiful wonderful body.
It probably looked like that.
"Like we are the last ones. In a strange way, it's calming, isn't it?"
My head turns to look around the quiet steppe, before returning to face him. My feathered legs pull my body closer, as my head tilts slightly to look at his wings. They looked so soft, and warm. A demure smile pulls up at my lips, as my eyes flicker at the ground and back up again.
"I'm Glacia... I hate to be rude... But w-would you mind if I touched your wings? They are just so... So... Exquisite.
My cheeks feel warm, and inside I am terribly aware of the fact that under my black fur I was blushing.
"I'm sorry... I just have only seen a few winged.. and those that had them where I am from where... more intimidating. Not that your not intimidating. I mean. You are. But your not."
I close my eyes, hanging my head for a moment, before warily peaking up.
My angel doesn't disappear into the white expanses as part of me thinks that she will. Instead, she turns. With exquisite slowness, she teases me with the thought that she will stay. Indeed, with every moment and every movement she seems to remain fixed in this place, so far from the heavenly home she surely resides in.
"It is-" I agree, with an easy smile. The purpley/soot colour that lines my lips darkens as I smile. It is a genuine, handsome, and effortless movement that spreads to the teal of my gaze as it regards her. "-Like nothing matters...for there is no one but us to care. And yet, does that not make it all the more meaningful?" My melodic tones dance off into a mild laughter as I realize the absurdly prophetic nature of what I've just said. I am no one, with nothing to say. The poetry that flows from my lips is mere happenstance in the presence of an angel in black, it is nothing..
Her eyes catch light of something on my face, but I know not what. Instead, as she looks at me, my eyes focus on her horn. So pristine, sharp, deadly. How .. .romantically forbidding. How is it that one could share a nuzzle? How could thoughts be pressed from one mind to another, with such a weapon lingering between the two skulls? But then, that is the romance, is it not? That distance? That gulf to overcome? Biases? Racism?
Distractions
"Of course Glacia-" I hear myself agreeing seemingly just as her words reach my ears, as if somehow I knew she would ask. Her name rolls off of my lips as if I've already known it - and yet she's only just offered it to me. Effortlessly one of my wings raise - but it doesn't just raise. Instead, it curls towards her, as if inviting her within some secret cave or cove that it has created.
"I understand-" My words are hushed, whispered, intimate. Why shout, when only the two of us exist? There is no one else to hear, and so my words are meant only for her. A feather or four curl towards her cheek, meaning to gently grace the curves of her cheek, and the velvety lines that lead towards her muzzle.
"I am Rhoa." I answer her, distantly, distractedly. "The last." I conclude.
"How can you be near those than you care for, with such a splendid spire upon your brow? " My muzzle tilts downwards, pushing my forehead towards her brow as if to emphasize the barrier that her horn presents. The hairs on my muzzle dance as I exhale another stream of frosty air.
12-02-2015, 12:31 AM (This post was last modified: 12-02-2015, 01:45 AM by Glacia.)
His words bring a smile to my face, his beautiful poetic words. They do, they really do mean so much more. Just him and I in this empty and profound place... It seemed like fate, didn't it?
I laugh softly with him, my eyes brightening and the nervousness melting away.
His voice pulls me even closer as he grants my request. A wing of his lifts, curling towards me. But there is fire. Embers burning like coals as the fire dies. But they do not give off heat, the only heat coming from his body alone. He gave no indication I would be hurt, and so willingly, I step into the warmth of it, my muzzle reaching up into the heated touching the softness, and a satisfied sigh leaves my lips. A few feathers curl inwards tickling my face, inciting a giggle from my molted lips. It is tender, and the silken muzzle pulls away slowly, to return before his face. His voice is so soft, so hushed, so understanding. Which is exactly what he says to my rambling.
"I am Rhoa. The last"
My ears curls towards him, joy blossoming and butterflies fluttering in my stomach at his name. He is conclusive with the last words, and curiosity also flourishes in my mind. Why are you the last Rhoa? The last of your kind? Of your line? The last standing in your family?
Is it some romantically tragic reason?
"Why are you the last?" I ask, my silky voice matching his own hushed tones. We only spoke to each other, and no one would ever hear us, nor would we repeat this, except if we where to meet again, and the whisper in my mind hopes that we do.
He then asks about my horn... How do we get intimate. My face lifts in another smile, but I am unsure of how to explain it. My tail flicks gently against my hocks, as I have an idea. "Let me show you Rhoa. Just hold still..." My muzzle moves towards his own, and my heart is pounding. Gently I touch him, pushing a little, but only to cause slight friction on the side of his face, careful not to tilt my forehead to far forward.
"Very carefully, like this... Or like this..." My muzzle trails up his face to near his poll, and I lean against him, straining slightly at his height, before pulling downwards, heart pounding even harder as I decide to show him yet another way to show affection with the adorning horn that possesses my crown.
"Or like this..." My face travels down his crest, and my hoofs bring me closer as I wrap my neck around his withers, and touch my chest to his. My blue eyes look over his other side, praying that he stays there, in this warm embrace. "There are other, more intimate ways as well, but I am sure you would surely know of those."
I am searching, for his reaction. Me, personally... I am warm. So warm, and my original nervousness and awkwardness melted away, to reveal a warm beating heart, open and willing to receive, maybe even on the same wave length. Just a girl who wants all the attention in the world, and all the love she could receive. Just a girl turning into a woman, and searching for her own place in this spinning world.
How could I not be? I think silently to myself, a bemused but saddened smile tugging softly downwards on my lips. "Those that I loved have become ghosts, even they are not dead. Their silence and distance haunts me. I am the last, because if I weren't, they would surely use their efforts on others. But they reside with me, always."
My evergreen gaze looks out across Glacia's shoulder, as if trying to spy them across the white plain. They are there, I know. Just out of eyesight, teasing and beckoning me to join them.
I might, were Glacia not here to hold my attention. But she was, and so I stayed.
And what came next, blotted out the screams of the ghosts that constantly blurred my thoughts.
Her touch. Her warmth. Her.
The delicate hairs on my muzzle quivered with anticipation as her own drew near. Her touch extends the length of my face, rather than the direct sort of contact that I am used to. Unconsciously - or perhaps not - I lean into her gesture, pulling my head downwards ever so slightly, so as to cause the hairs that line our faces to tangle, pull, and then come apart.
Or like this
Her words feel like a sheet being traced over my body, pulling up to reveal yet another layer of sensation. My wings have risen slightly, jutting forward from my shoulder and outwards, as if guiding her to me. Into me. She is smaller than I, and I willingly let my head drop into her continual embrace, happy to merely be the beneficiary of her affections. Her horn cuts across my vision several times, but I have no fear of being struck, or sliced. She is careful, even when being insistent.
Or like this...
As I feel her chest press against my own, and her chin reaching around my withers, I sigh into her. There is a barrier that I can't tell if I want to break down. This intimacy which has fallen over us, feels veiled, though not in an uncomfortable way. Her actions are not for me, in a certain sense. She is merely answering my question. In that, this is no more than a sort of ... academic demonstration, that she has taken quite seriously. And yet - the flutter of my own heart, now pressed against her own, betrays us both. There is some unspoken thing. Perhaps it is merely the mysticism of this place - of being so wholly alone and yet in the presence of another. We are together, in our solitude, and so why shouldn't we be together in our flesh as well? It feels natural, as I feel her curl around me, feel her warmth rippling though my body. I don't want to let it go - let her go - regardless of how we have wound up here; wound up together.
"We have our ways too-" I say softly into the dark flesh of her shoulder, as my slow-burning wings rise further. Gently, the blackened feathers seek the curvature of her spine. Gently they trace the hills and valleys of her shoulder, as they move to wrap themselves around her. It is a closeness that I think only pegasi can really offer, this sort of embrace. This hug. It feels strange to me that my feathers don't have to navigate around her wings - there is only the pristine swell of her flanks and shoulder, uninterrupted by a further appendage. In this, my wings take full advantage, stroking and then letting my feathers fall gently down her sides; marvelling in her.
My embers cast radiating shadows against the darkness of our pelts, pressed together. It is as if we alone in this world provide heat, provide light. Everything else is white and cold, while we burn black and hot.
So that is why you are the last? I could fix that. If only for a moment.
He is so receptive to my touch, that it causes my heart to flutter about in my chest in such a way that it felt like fear... But fear was cold, and he was warm. It felt like my heart was leaping into my throat and I wanted to yell and scream. For what though? For joy? But I refrain, instead I feel as if I am trembling, yet my body is still. His wings lift as my touch goes further, reaching out for me.
Did he feel as I? Was his heart pounding? Did he think this was a simple demonstration? Because I had never, touched anyone like this. I had embraced, and such, but this was something much more, at least for me. I put my soul into this, a promise of my heart, that maybe just for this moment I knew love.
I don't know you, I only know your name. But you give me something I have never felt before. I have never known the touch of a man, and you give me that. You filled that cold loneliness, with warmth, and making me feel needed.
I understand that feeling, Rhoa. Of being the last. The last child, always alone and wandering. But in a way Rhoa, you are not just the last. You are the last for your perseverance. You are the last for lasting.
His voice rumbles through my chest, causing more fluttering palpitations. Was it just me, or was I breathing heavier? His wings reach forward, feathers traveling my curves, and my skin in response shivering, twitching. I could feel it all. Every touch his feathers made, in vivid detail. My body hypersensitive.
It ends in his embrace, warm, giving. I never want it to end. My icy gaze falls, as my lids close. I lean into him, into the embrace. His gesture. His warmth against the cold outside. But I want more. We are completely alone with each other, and I want that to become a beautiful memory.
"Show me more Rhoa. I want to feel you... In every way."
I had never said anything so true in my life, and despite how cheesy it sounded, I would never say anything that true-that sacred, Ever again.
Her words open within me and invitation of the sort that I've never experienced. I feel a glow somewhere deep inside, an unfurling and unfolding of opportunity and raw desire. I feel the shackles of a family who was never there for me, suddenly falling from my shoulders, burying themselves deep in the untainted snow. I feel my heart, normally heavy from its lack of Ivezho, my twin, suddenly unfettered and free to explore the intricate heat that is Glacia's body. Eyes, that experience only the worst the world has to offer, are suddenly clear - able to truly appreciate the gradient of blacks that compose the mare pressed against me.
Oh, my demons are still there. They lurk, but they are buried beneath the snow and my raptuous need to fall into the fire that is slowly consuming me. It burns hot; I feel both weak and strong. My demise lingers in its flames, suggesting that the rapture I want to allow myself to bleed away in, will only end in blackness. But I can't pull away. I have never been this close to something this beautiful, something this pristine - something that instills in me something other than apathy and hate.
This feels white. Pure. Perfect.
I exhale my intentions into the soft curve of her neck. My mind fades away, blurring into the delicious tantalizing tingle that is rapidly expanding through my joints. My body is instead left to its own devices, and eagerly my instincts take over. My neck arches, and I feel the stretching of my muscles send a pleasurable tension through my back. My wings fold up and backwards, as if cupping the air around her - allowing the dazzling colour-play of light and shadows from my magic - create patterns across the depths of her shoulders. My nose traces the elegant contours of her neck to her withers, but there is an insistence. I want to savor this, but I also can't help myself. I am afraid she will bleed away and disappear, and I will forever lose the bright spark that cascades between us.
I need her, in this moment, more than I've needed anything else.
My body passes hers, pressing against her flank. All the while, my nose traces the fine lines of her svelte pelt; my teeth chattering gently against the folds of black. A wing drapes itself over her barrel as I near her hindquarters. I am dizzy now - dizzy with expectation of what is to come, dizzy with the wealth of happiness and beauty that has filled me.
My nose and teeth trail down her back leg, finding the soft and less-muscular flesh of her thigh. In this world of white and solitude, only her tail separates us both from the harshness of the world
12-15-2015, 12:21 AM (This post was last modified: 12-15-2015, 12:24 AM by Glacia.)
I am waiting, waiting on him. My body seems to shake in anticipation, and I swear any moment my heart would burst. The pounding and the rise in blood pressure was magnificent, causing my ears, cheeks, and well.... Other areas to become warm, like the cold couldn't touch them. I watch in wonder, my icy eyes widening in appreciation, in... In complete awe of his glory. He may have felt like he had never been so close to something so beautiful, but from my perspective, I was plain next to his dark body, next to his glorious wings... Next to the embers glowing beneath him.
And in some way, it seemed perfect. Like it was the perfect match, yet at the same time it was like we where opposites. The ice girl and the boy of fire. He was not flaming, no, he was the warm embers, the comforting flames that keep one warm at night. He was like love itself, warm, gooey even on the inside. He was the caring heart of the fire. He kept it all going.
I was the slow moving ice burg of the land. The glacier, slowly moving across the land, slowly destroying yet reforming. I was destruction and the artist, sculpting the land to my will, yet I was ever moving, never to settle, always on to more destruction and more reconstruction. I was beautiful, I suppose. Caves deep within that constantly change and move. I wondered if he would melt it. Melt my wandering center.
So in a way, some weird way, maybe it was right. That it was so different, and yet so right. So yet again I watch as his neck arches in a delicious (did I just use delicious?). No... It wasn't delicious. It was tantalizingly beautiful. He was beautiful. Heartbreakingly handsome. I could feel it deep within, and it almost felt like pain, he was so lovely. And somehow, someway we where together. Here, now, in this moment.
His wings are moving up, revealing his glowing underwing, causing beautiful light variations across my black and his grey. They seem to be a turning point. Almost making time run still. Every move he made from there on out seemed to take an eternity, yet at the same time never lasted long enough. It seemed to take forever as his teeth gently moved down my body, but all at once it was over a fleeting moment, to be savored, remembered forever.
I flick my eyes downwards, and there is a fleeting moment of fear. Did I really mean it? Was I ready for this? Something inside almost caused me to shout out for him to stop. But then the fear was gone. I took a deep breath. I was ready. I wasn't scared, and I would not stop him. I had no need to. I had every confidence in this stranger. In Rhoa, the last. He would be gentle.
His wing drapes over my body, just as his muzzle reaches the sensitive inside of my thigh, cause a shivering the twitch of ticklish skin. And just like that. I give in. He has me. I'm am his. For this while he is mine. There is a moving of tail, a slight widening of stance............
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
