"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.
Autumn had flourished across the land in hues of red and orange, and with it so had she. As the weather turned cooler, her father's blood reared its head, a ripple of color that painted her into shades of bloodied rose instead of dawn-hued pinks and golds. Alice watched the transformation with awe and curiosity, as if it held some sort of meaning for her maiden to be cloaked in blood and prowess. Gentle regal form struck into tyrannical queen, blood stained on snow. Hotaru rolled her eyes fondly at the hellbeast and her fawning, pale hooves digging into the earth idly. It was a calm season, but the leaves fell regardless, the weak dying first to supplement the earth for the coming winter. It would come in time, but autumn was still new and young, and she had a home full of winter to always return to. It was different for her, to await those seasons, when the passage could only be told by a keen native eye in the Basin. As locked away in time as it was in nature, and she wondered if the illusion was some sort of personal joke for their patron god.
Hunt? It was an easier word for Alice to say, rather than 'prey, or 'meat' or 'hunger'. She seemed eternally ravenous, growing growing growing and never stopping. Pacing Hotaru's age, their souls fitting tighter and more perfectly with each season, but Alice's body lagging behind. It frustrated the hellhound, to be so young and feeble while Hotaru grew to become a young adult. A struggle Hotaru could not comprehend, but one that plagued the primordial mind of the beast. It was a sense of inadequacy, of imperfection. Alice yearned for their completion more than even Hotaru, desired to be the perfect pair and team, a deadly united force that nothing and nobody could stop. Hunting was her only way to satisfy the thirst inside her, for if she could not quench herself on the blood of enemies, she could at least satisfy herself physically by feasting on the meat of her prey.
Hotaru acquiesced easily enough. Alice was strong and capable of defending herself, had gone out hunting alone in the Basin many times. What difference did the landscape make? Perhaps she'd even find a new animal to stalk and kill. With a distinct yelp of happiness, Alice turned and went streaking off into the brittle undergrowth, noisy in her departure only to ease into silence as the distance increased. Hotaru watched her go, a flash of blackened purple on innocent white, before turning away and continuing on her own private trek.
There was nowhere for her to go, nowhere to be. A certain ease of silence and lack of responsibility. Stretched her limbs and smiled into the weak autumn sun, fading towards the eventuality of darkness. Even with her sore and battered heart, her bruised and cracking ribs, she felt at peace.
He is primitive, primal. He is a beast that has torn from morality and sanity, that has fled into the darkness of a hell spun mind. This is no longer anything resembling an equine, no, he has peeled his equine skin, left that in his past. A monster, he'd accepted his fate and taken in the wild instincts of his other side, prowling and blood thirsty like the beast he was.
He'd fallen back into the background for a long while now, empty emeralds speculating the world from a distance as it developed and grew yet there he remained. Rooted into the hideousness of his flesh his soul soured, his gaping maw dripping and his savage hunger tearing through him with an unfamiliar feeling, yet something he could name. This ravaging need consumes his thoughts like fire to kindle, blowing up to uncontrollable proportion in the blink of an eye.
He brought himself to an open space, prowling eyes sweeping over the barren land with an overwhelming desire. This unexpected yet oh so delicious turn events leaves his thick legs striding forward with ravishing eagerness as he approaches his prey. The whore he sings, they've brought her to me. A raspy hum leaves his throat, deep and hauntingly off beat as charcoal daggers strike the earth relentlessly. There was purpose in his stride as he covers the ground between them. No escape, he notes, grin spreading to show sharpened ivory ready to slice, tear and gnaw. Damned as he was, this was a blessing in his eyes. A god given gift, repayment for the disgusting life he'd been living. For all the pain he'd endured, a prize to make the world shine brighter in his eyes. He enters the scene, tail twitching and swiping along his thighs.
"My my my," He purrs, brows raised as a throaty growl slips out behind the husky words. "What have we here?" Sugar coated, sickeningly sweet honey dew syllables collapse from his tongue like rain drops from branches. He gets even closer now, within striking distance. His muscled structure remains tense, prepared for the pounce. "How fucking sick. Still prancing around like a harlot, hmm?" Disinterested eyes befall her darkened hide, a fleshy pink tongue moistening the needy lips. He sought revenge, lustful and needy for it he was. In a flash his forehooves rise, steady and prepared to strike the left side of her face, brought down with force. They crash back into the earth after his display, pupils dilating, naught but thin lines as his muzzle twitches.
"We're going to have some fun." He growls, ears flat as he circles counter clockwise about the familiar damsel. In a swift, large step he extends his neck to tear at the flesh of her right side, to take from the ribs. He withdraws and brings his mouth to her ear, enraged and disgusted. He would strip her of her sanity, flay away at the flesh and peel apart the tissue of her bones. There was no one to see, no one to hear, not a witness in sight. All the scents were stale on his tongue, and he knew then they were alone and he was without morals. "Dare to run and I will break you." He was vengeful and blood thirsty, hungry for dominance.
Having nothing to do is an odd sort of burden all of its own. She had grown so used to constant tasks to accomplish, the life of a Lady and a monarch, that when the dust settled...she was left with empty wandering hands and a lack of surety as to what her purpose was. Her daughters had seemed to hide away from her, or disappearing entirely into the snow and slush. Hotaru did not often let herself consider it, too aware of the fact that if she focused upon it she would crumble just a little bit more. Raeden, at least, had returned to her. Quieting, if not silencing, the haunting ghosts of her family. She had not failed them all, at least. Or so it seemed.
Hotaru was young, for all she'd accomplished. But also for all that she had done. Some of it kept her up at night. Some of it she only let herself remember in the powerless grips of her nightmares. She was a bloodied fallen angel, taking up the devil's sword but wanting power only over the realm she belonged to. She took no sides, felled those on either side of the line she walked, and tried to quell the guilt she felt in the old and aching shards of her once-self. Hotaru had hated that child, with the scared eyes and the sensitive soul. Mesec had reintroduced her to that part of herself, in a light that made it a little less frightening. But she still could not face the demons in the dark, some nights. Nobody else needed to know her weakness, not when she was so aware of her own shortcomings.
Sometimes, the demons couldn't be put back into the box.
Something foul prickles at the nape of her neck and she whirls, the wind working against her but the sensation. Her instincts are screaming WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! But she doesn't know why until she spins, heart dropping into her stomach at the first glimpse of stripes and orange. For a half second she prays to her Goddess - the only one she can believe in, trust - that it's Saffron. The tigress had garnered the same reaction when they'd first met, too many ghosts and ghouls in the form of her flesh, the stripes on her hide. But he's larger, fouler, more dangerous than Saffron could ever hope to be. He steps towards her and the thick gravelly purr of his voice sends her bones shaking.
RU?! It screams across her synapses like lightning but she can't move, her limbs deadlocked and breath so shallow and short it seems to coalesce and rot inside her lungs. Do you believe in the boogeyman? She does, because he's standing right there. He was always real, she just hadn't let herself remember that. And she can't move and she can't remember the last time she felt this afraid, and Alice is a dim but exploding light in the back of her head, terror mounting between the two of them as Hotaru remains unresponsive. Her legs trip beneath her as she tries to circle to keep up with his pacing, but he dwarfs her. Always had. Tries to find her tongue, her courage, as he snarls and snaps and licks his twisted teeth. "Still vying after what you couldn't get, huh?" she snaps back, but she knows he can smell her fear. Locks herself down regardless. She's not going down without a fight, she is so much more than he will ever be. He can hurt her but he won't break her, not anymore. Or at least, she tries to tell herself that.
He lunges for her, and she staggers back, a dying gasp strangled in her throat as she feels fire burn down the length of her slim shoulder and down her left leg as she jerks away. It hurts, all his weight and mass and anger, but she bares her teeth like the demon she is and lunges for him with gaping maw and flashing eyes. Seeks his jugular with her minuscule height, because she may be small but she is MIGHTY. She has brought herds crumbling to their knees, and men alongside them. She has conquered, she has bled and suffered for her triumphs. She has fallen to no beast, and it will not start today.
RU!! And she can sense Alice getting closer, grabs onto their bond and yanks as hard as she can until she can feel with a phantom ache of her own knees the way Alice physically trips and falters. RUN! she screams even as she's backing away, eyes like dual fires and adjusting her weight off her leg. But he's still moving, a solid wall of half-fur and insidiousness, and she grits her teeth against a scream as his abnormal teeth rip and rend against her ribs. Shoves away violently, kicking at his hind joints, wants to see him crippled. Wants to see him stagger and fall, Goliath to her David.
His threat tears into her ears and she can feel the filly inside herself quivering, crying out with fear and twisted, mortified love for this beast she'd once let herself fall for. But love is fragile and weak, and she had ripped it from her heart mercilessly, with blunted fingernails and a level of ferocity only the dying and desperate can achieve. Is this all my fault? But she has to focus, has to think, move on her feet as she always has. Alice is trying to keep moving, run back towards Hotaru and this showdown that is going to turn even more bloody and violent in the span of a few seconds. But Hotaru grinds her teeth, digs her essence into their bond and fills it with as much command as she can muster. LEAVE! Feels as much as hears inside her soul Alice's cry of denial, the agony she feels at not being able to save, help, protect. The confusion, wondering why, why, why is she being sent away? But Alice is everything beautiful and pure left in Hotaru's world, can't see that snuffed out by Tingal's venom and violence. To live without half of her soul would be to not live at all.
Even in her stubborn refusal, Hotaru can feel the sentiment returned in Alice. So she amends her statement, gives Alice something to focus on, to hunt.Find somebody, tell them, and then their link dissolves as Hotaru whirls to face Tingal with as much hatred as she can swell up onto her pretty face. "Bite me," she snarls, aware of the irony of the statement. This giant beast before a fragile, breakable queen. Lunges forward towards him anyways, aware of her impending defeat but letting it sweep her away. Maybe someone would care enough to find her. Maybe there would be nothing left to find.
Fool, fool. His quivering lips bring an unsettling smile to his callous features, leaving the eyes dim but curious and the grin soul crushing. He watches with some twisted form of enjoyment as she trips, stumbling over her own limbs like a babe from the womb. This unsteady stride of hers cannot compare to his long gait, extended legs taking forth a mass of muscle and scarring. "See, I've decided something." Stripes match the slower rhythm of palomino cream, steadied gait keeping himself forward of her body as emeralds sweep along curves that would have made this man swoon once before. But not now. Now they crushed his gut and sent boiling hot rage crashing through his veins like magma, bubbling at his joints and bursting from his mouth in the form of insults and incessant growls.
He is successful, hooves streaking down the two-toned coat and leaving precious pain to brew beneath the skin. A gaudy laugh escapes his maw as she tries to bite him as if one could be so foolish! He feels her dull teeth latch to his chunky shoulder, gripping and giving him the perfect opportunity. He snaps ivory bared canines towards the back of her head, pushing and forcing, trying to pull her down into submission with the help of his raised stance and strength. Nothing, nothing to me.
The striped titan strikes his forehooves forward, a scream of triumph ready to befall his lips as he kicks out at the aureate knees. He wanted to crush her, to immobilize her and keep her there with no way to run from his grasp. There were no rules now, no boundaries he could not cross. Her screams would bring nothing to bring him back to sanity or morality, no, he would consume her flesh while she squirmed and riled beneath him and he would triumph in her pain. "If I can't have you, no one will—" A mix between a purr and a snarl rise from his throat, rounded ears dropping back as his neck drops and he resumes walking.
"Is that a dare?" He inquires, smirking as she so foolishly plays the role of the strong damsel, the one who doesn't need saving. But to the gods that damned him, she would be no more when he was done. Her fear flaked from her skin, this stubborn facade proving nothing as he let her scent enter his senses, flooding him with a need for blood. Her lunging at him, an attempt of defiance, it does not scare him. He lowers his head to meet her right breast with his rough horns, to use her momentum against her as she lunges for his body. Ahh ah ah little lamb.
Hotaru had long stopped believing that her height and mass could keep her from greatness, and in many ways she had proven herself right. She'd been small all her life, taking after the slimmer beautiful countenance of her mother rather than her father's imposing height and lean frame, but it had never held her back. She had defeated Tingal in battle as but a babe! But...back then, she had been driven by anger and hatred, and she had not feared Tingal. When had she ever given him that kind of power? When had her disposition changed regarding him? It had soured her defenses, left her crumbling and scrambling to pick up the pieces where her fortifications against him should have been. And he is strong, so much stronger than before, and never has she felt her height so keenly for how he towers over her. A shadow waiting to devour her, a monster with razor teeth like her Aunt Kota had always joked about.
Still, if panic and adrenaline gave her one thing, it was the ability to fake her bravado. It didn't matter to him, maybe, when he could scent her true emotion on her skin. But to her, it mattered whether she tried, whether she could walk away from this - if she even did - saying she'd given her best. "Do share," she spat, eyes wild and white slowly sinking in around the edges. Though she'd been the one to force her away, she felt Alice's retreat keenly, didn't know if it would matter at all. Wondered how long Tingal would play with his dinner before he feasted, if Alice would even be alive to make it somebody for help when their bond was snapped. Hotaru had a respect for death, with all it had stolen from her, but she didn't seek it. Didn't want this to end like she was afraid it could, and it would be all her fault for giving him the power over her that her fear granted him.
But she tries, she tries and she fails, for though her blunt teeth find purchase and blood floods across her tongue she is still small and helpless to his god-given stature. She yelps like a wounded pup as his teeth find deep purchase around the meat of her neck behind her skull, jaw unclenching automatically, hanging and thrashing in their height difference and giving short aborted cries of pain that she could not withhold from his ears. Stumbles as he uses his piercing grip to shove her around, and she can feel the needles of his teeth gouging deeper and wider as he refuses to let go, her frail legs following him if only to stop the pain, and she is so aware of how close he is to her spine that she trembles in his hold like a newborn kitten.
He kicks at her and she folds beneath the agony, so intense that she can't even scream, just a sharp exhale of air before everything comes slamming back all at once into her head. Wonders if it's broken, feels the shudder of fear in her soul. Never had she considered herself frail, even with the body she'd been born in. But she is, here. She is frail, and so easily broken at his whim. It's...it's a terrifying realization, and she can feel her foundation, her faith in herself, begin to crack. It's small, it will take time...but she can't ignore the sudden shaking she feels, the distinct wrongness with how small she feels. Especially when Hotaru had stood so tall and imposing for so long.
But finally he releases her, and she shudders down to her marrow, feeling cold. Did some sort of possession over her still linger? Gods, she hadn't even been with anyone since Deodat! It was almost enough to make her laugh, hysterical though it would have sounded. "Nobody owns me," she responds in her own rasping snarl, eyes molten with fury at the idea of ownership. She is a queen, and she owns herself entirely, faults and all. It gives her the courage she needs to lurch towards him, but he catches her squarely in the chest, and she is thrust to the side from the blow, staggering and gasping for breath where he winded her. Her entire chest blossoms into one immediately throbbing bruise, her leg still on fire and her ribs bleeding sluggishly with each expanding, stuttering breath.
All at once she recalls her armor, calls it into being out of fear, wonders if it will make any sort of difference as it settles cool and familiar over her skin. Backs away from him, head lowered and horn thrust pointedly towards his face as her legs quake. Her left knee is throbbing so badly she holds it limply off the ground, but she's still standing. This isn't over, not yet. But even she can't deny her subtle retreat, her play at distraction and defense with the way the armor is heavy against her. "Bring it on, lover boy," she teases, casting her voice as light and flirtatious as she can manage, hoping to entice him with the subtle jibe at their past almost-relationship. A furious fighter is a sloppy fighter, she tells herself, and tries not to feel as scared and hopeless as she's beginning to.
This dominance, this new found power, it surges through the rippling muscle and tears through the veins. It sends the monster into a frenzy, a ravenous craving sending his body into some sort of cannibalistic overdrive. If he had tasted flesh before, it was naught compared to the taste of flesh from someone so familiar, sweet, delicious. It was harmonious flavours dancing across his tongue and sending his instinctual urges into an uncontrollable craze as he laps at the droplets that result from his aggressions. Hungry hungry hungry.
It commands him, controlling the movement of his muscles as he pushes into the weaker mare, feeling her tremble beneath him like the coward she is. Her facade is false, a lie put up because she was too proud to give into the titan before her. His power out matched hers, and she was compensating with snarky comments that would get her nowhere. Their obvious difference was shown as he forces her into a painful submission, grip on the back of her neck similar to the one he used to subdue his sibling. This was different now, that had been mercy, for she was something this world should have never seen, a monster pushed into the body of a woman who could not hold her own. He took her down like you would should a wounded horse, quick and gentle with little hesitance despite the blood they shared.
A deep, threatening laugh resonates from the hollowness of his striped throat, empty eyes reflecting the face of this false statement. He would try and explain to her his opinion on this, but he knows she will defiantly spit in his face and pretend she is strong. Pretending gets you nowhere in life, foolish girl. His laugh becomes more intense, a sickening cackle that could make a child cry if they encountered it, the sound you wouldn't want to hear walking alone at night. It's sinister, hidden insanity lingering behind the notes as his shoulders heave.
Her left leg is held, unable to rest weight upon the leg now that it'd taken a blow from his sturdy lower half. She was vulnerable now, that armour she summoned making no difference to him. He would beat her no matter what it took, and this armour gave him many valuable places to attack, the fleshiest pieces left open for his pearls. It is he who charges first, showing no signs of having heard what the creme bitch had to say, instead focused solely on his purpose of bringing her down before him. He charges her, steering himself towards her right side with his stride full of power and he rises from the ground. The titan wanted to smash his body into hers, to leave her unable to support herself without falling or using the injured leg. Fall fall fall. An epitome of cheers erupts as he lands to the ground with grace, swinging around to her left side to bring his hooves down upon her sides if she had taken the fall.
Pain is sparking behind her skull as she stumbles away, the weight of her armor pressing down upon it. A safety net, her only one with Alice already fading in her head with the distance and nobody else around to bear witness to her defeat. She was already panting, not only from exertion but fear, eyes white and ears sliced so far back they were nearly indiscernible from her crest and mane. His twisted laughter follows her retreat, and even the ring of unfolding metal can't silence him or how it echoes on repeat in her head. He charges through it, and she skitters away on thin limbs, her bravery dwindling further with each blow until she can't charge at him in return, meet him with force. He slams into her and she goes stumbling, grazes her knees on the ground but doesn't fall, lurches away as he slams his hooves to the earth where she'd been moments before. Her mind is on lockdown, but instinct and preservation rear up like old gods in her body and wrench the magic from her form with greedy, desperate hands like claws.
The winds tear out of her and across the expanse near her, slicing her cheek almost fondly with the invisible shards that dance in the turbulence. It grows, strengthens until it's a roar and her mane is whipping about and lashing against the metal of her armor. She directs it towards him, watching as it rips the earth apart in deep, awful clawmarks, a growing tornado that she feeds her energy and magic into. Backs away, stumbling with her injured knee and ribs, retracting her armor as she contemplates turning and running, running with all the speed she has in her body, the speed her mother gifted her with. The less weight on her, the better, as Hotaru plans her attempted escape. She knows he's faster than her, with his longer legs and greater agility, but she has stamina on her side. She can run for longer, if she can just distract him long enough with her hurricane.
Without any care for how cowardly she may seem, she turns and tries to run, left leg jolting and crying with every step. Each step has her gasping, tiny mewls and whimpers of pain sliding across her tongue. She hasn't cried yet, she won't. She refuses to. But she has some sort of awareness that she won't escape, not yet. He's not finished with her, and no matter where she goes she knows he'll hunt her like the animal he is. This is all your fault, her mind cooes treacherously at her. If you had just loved him as he had you, if you had not been so broken... and her heart aches. She had loved him, she had. He had left her! And she had found somebody else. Maybe...and her mind flitted to Thranduil, and finally the tears started to prick and line her lashes, blurring the horizon. He didn't deserve the storm she always brought in her wake. Tingal was proof of the damage she could do, after all.
Here he becomes the predator of a new age, he is powerful and equipped with the necessary items needed to launch his body a fair distance in a short time. His hindquarters bunch together, muscle contracting as he watches her flee. What little the beast expects, to see a storm thrumming towards him with power and pain wrapped within its wicked winds. He will not bow to these winds, he will not let them take him as a fool or a coward, but he will not let them take him apart with their dark magic. His body spins, pushing forward as he avoids the attack of the tornado, feeling sharp pains against his hip as cuts from invisible blades tear through his flesh and expose his tissue to the world.
A deep snarl bolts from his dark lips, an expression of raw anger and vengeance sprawled across the hardened features, eyes watching as he passes the storms range and watches it diminish. Reduced to nothing, a loud laugh bursts from his lips as he sprints after the strawberry mongrel, not willing to give her up yet. The carved earth and uneven terrain heeds no obstacle for him, his leaps and bounds bringing the girl into his range with terrifying agility, swift as he trails at her rear.
He takes his chance, eyes widened with primal instinct as he launches himself forward like the predator he is. His muscles bunch and spring, letting him burst forward to the cream's side (he prayed the right). She has retracted the armour, which gives him a chance to take it from her, body on a course to slamming into hers as he reaches his neck forward and tries to clamp his teeth over the laurel that crowns her. He pulls back with savage strength, not caring if flesh or golden tresses cling to the silver ornament. He would let it fall from his lips, discarded and left to whatever found it interesting, perhaps a greedy raven or unknowing equine.
His gaping jaws rocket towards her throat, threatening a death grip upon the flesh the ivory can grasp at. He does not pity the damage he has done, and he will ignore the pain flowering along his right leg in favour of crushing the weak beneath his feet. These aggressive, snapping jaws are hungry and needy for the soft flesh of an impure woman. The tongue will seek the blood, the teeth will take apart the tissue, and the throat will take it all once the last savory seconds have been wasted.
He strikes back, right hind bursting out to find a limb to strike down, to break and bend unwilling. He wants to bring her down, where she was easier prey, to tear her down and ruin her emotional stability. He would take down what walls she had been building, all this work to keep herself comfortable and happy. He was the unpleasant cold water leaking in through the ceiling, drip drip drip that drives you insane as the months tick by, tick tock tick tock. Until you can't take it anymore and you beg on your hands and knees before the feet of death, pleading for its sweet embrace and this release of crushing insanity. But it will never come, because he is death, he is that itch in the back of your head, the quiet darkness that brings false safety with passing days until it unravels and you fall back into despair. He is merciless and cruel, your feelings mean little to his power driven ambitions.
"growl grumble roar"
She'd known somehow that escape was a futile dream, one that lay tantalizingly close but still unerringly out of reach. His snarling seems to hound her as she stumbles away, a broken doll jerking on her strings, porcelain hands slipping on the cusp of freedom, incapable of securing themselves and hoisting her to freedom. It seems slow, though she knows it's not, when he springs at her from the right and rips her crown from her head. It's ironic in the most profound of ways, as she watches it fall glittering away from her and rest upon the earth, still beautiful but lost in the undergrowth. Feels the heat of his soft furred skin like a phantom lover's embrace before everything returns to the speed it should be, and he's slamming into her fragile form and sending her skittering to the left. His teeth clamp down on the side of her crest, teasing and flirting with the side of her jugular vein. She falls limp, a kitten by the nape, her fear pounding hot against his teeth. His leg strikes out and slams into her right hind leg and she crumples with it if only to spare the bone. Not broken, she reassures herself even as she sages and falls into him. As if no time had passed and she simply sought solace in his skin and scent, trusting him to keep her safe as she had for so many countless seasons.
Her pride breaks and her tears flow seamlessly down her cheeks, tiny hiccups and moans of pain as her body betrays her, her legs barely holding even the weight of her small frame. "Stop," she sobs, knowing it's futile but not sure what else she can do here. Why doesn't he just kill her? It would be a kinder end than this, than having to face the vilified ghost of the soul she used to love and rely upon. At least she could see her mother's smiling face, her father's reborn and untormented eyes, and spend the afterlife in their embrace. "Please, end this," and it rips from her throat and she doesn't care that she's asking for the end, that she has embraced such cowardly attributes here at her personal end of the world. I'm sorry, Alice. I'm sorry, Arya. She blesses the fact that Tingal does not know who Arya is, that her immortality will keep her from suffering a fate like this, or at least from succumbing to mortality as she fears she will.
Beneath him she breaks, cracking beneath the pressure of his ferocity, crumpling in inferiority. He is becoming the superior, the avenger. He was bringing justice to his past self, the man who was unjustly ruined at the hands of a younger girl he has so dearly poured his heart and soul into. He had wanted to be loved by someone, for once in his mundane existence he wanted love and acceptance from someone who wasn't forced into it through biological means. He had been so naive, believing this love would come without a price, that he would not have to suffer to earn such love.
How foolish he had been, how gullible. He had been pitiful and sickening with a selfish need to be the center of attention. It was surely tragic in at least one persons eye, but he thought it pathetic that he had been so disgustingly idiotic. Him now was a better being, a better state of mind. He was stronger in this state, less vulnerable to being an emotional disaster and letting his feelings get the best of him. And here he stood now, looking down upon the reason for his destruction in the first place. All cream and strawberry, weak and sickening.
There's blood in his mouth, not his, but it's there and the taste of it sends shivers down his spine. It's sweetly familiar, metallic and delicious in a way he's familiar with, but this is somehow different. Of all the other times, it has never been the blood of anyone he cares for or has loved deeply, it has always been an animal or insignificant equine who was just unlucky that day. But this, this was something all new to him. A whole new world of flavour to discover, a new palette revealed at the taste of a past love's flesh. It sends him into a savage frenzy of unmanageable proportion, the saliva of his maw dripping as his tongue lolls out to lap up the rogue blood.
Tasty. More, more! More! More!
His mind is going wild, sent into a craze as he looks down upon the weakened mare with no sympathy, overcome with a need to consume. He licks his lips again and again, staring down at the sobbing form with little recognition for the fact that she was something that was living, breathing. In his eyes, a toy that he could earn food from if he beat it around enough, something to keep him entertained while he gnawed and broke and tore and feasted.
Stop? Stop? How can he stop when this has only just begun? He throws back his head in an exaggerated fashion, laughing deep and husky and full of false amusement as his sides shake with each exhale. He brings his body up, forehooves rising as he prepares to break her, to finally feel crunching bone and tearing ligaments. He slams them down, wanting to feel charcoal collide with a dual tone shoulder, wicked grin upon his hybrid features. His greed was consuming him, his forehooves slamming into the earth as he attempts to bite the already open would upon her neck, breath heavy with excitement as he feels the urge to tear her apart. He pulls away with an open mouth, sharp ivory glistening with lethal intent as he whips around to send a harsh blow towards the leg closest to him, to snap the knee the wrong way and leave her stranded by his side.
The beast tries to push her down again, trying to force his weight unto her and bring her down so that she's more vulnerable to his attacks. He was becoming reckless, caring less about her well being and more about the flesh hidden beneath the rosy golden layers. He had thrown away rationality, morality lost and his sanity to the overwhelming need to succumb to the marvelous tastes of Hotaru's blood. Goodbye world, he bids it the cruelest of good byes while he tries to beat the girl before him to an unrecognizable mess.
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