"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.
10-20-2016, 08:39 PM (This post was last modified: 10-21-2016, 11:12 PM by Bellisma.)
Bellisma
She was retreating from a surprisingly successful sleuthing when she felt the pull. That was the only way she could describe it - she heard the call, and felt implored to heed it. Of its own accord, her body turned and her feet took her in a new direction entirely. The trek was a long one, but something told her it would be worth it. It better be, if she was going to put herself out in the open for it. Anxiety riddled her frame with every step, as she felt her new prize gently shift along her topline and tickle her sides. This was a risk she shouldn't be taking - with every extra mile she continually berated herself with reminders of Turn back, this is too dangerous. Since when do you reply to strange voices in the wind and come running?
But she persevered.
When she neared the area she was to be - if the number of specks on the horizon was any indication - the mare slung her new cloak over herself. It provided cover from the wandering eye, but she knew all magic came with a limitation, if not a price. She did not know how long she would be shielded, nor how completely; because of this, she slowed her pace and remained back quite a ways, cornering herself against the small embankment that led onto the beach to prevent anyone from accidentally bumping into her from behind. The distance prevented her from hearing much of the idle chitchat unless she really strained to listen in, but she hoped she would be able to hear the creature positioned at the center. She'd never seen him before, but the way she was inexorably drawn to him told her it was he who called this meeting.
Scanning the growing crowd, Bellisma hoped to see a friendly face. Perhaps Vadim was here, or Ashamin, or Hé. She also looked for Paradox, though she wasn't so certain on her visage being sorted into the "those I wish to see" category. She found none, but there was a familiar figure among the many. Ears pinning (in a display that none could see, but it was involuntary), the little mare stared at Volterra. Much like Kianzo, he was an equid she had the desire to speak with. Or rather, have words with. Her lip curled just thinking of being in his presence for any length of time, but she would muster the courage if it meant alleviating some of his brutality from the beauty of Helovia. She hadn't seen it herself, so perhaps she was too quick to pass judgment, but the grapevine had yet to steer her wrong.
Forcing her gaze away, she allowed it to settle once more on the attendee of honor, awaiting further instruction.
Seeking:
[Magic: Water x Light | Ability to imbue small bodies of water with healing properties]
[Restrictions | More severe injuries require larger volumes drunk / longer exposure time]
Today the mutant boy roamed alone. Romina had been suggesting more and more often that they venture to warmer climates, and so, to try and acclimatize himself to both the thought of this, and the temperatures of which she spoke, he had ventured towards the ocean.
Towards a crowd apparently. As soon as he saw Kisamoa, Ru'in briefly thought about turning around and going to find Romina. But if he left, he might not make it back in time to see what was going on. And at least if he stayed, he'd have something to report to his more delicate counterpart. What finally decided the matter, was seeing @Kiada far below. Something insight of him tightened (or did it loosen?), and his mind was set. He wasn't sure if he should talk to her (after their last encounter, he wasn't so sure that was a good idea), but he did know that he wanted to see her...or at least be near her. Regardless of ... Well, whatever it was stirring inside of him, she was their cousin (or so she had told him). Why not at least ...
What?
He didn't know. But already his three-toed feet were moving him down the muddy embankment towards the group.
"Yaahrr" Ru'in grumbled, a greeting that seemed to come from deep within his chest. He appeared like a statue behind her, oddly silent for his massive size. It hadn't even occurred to him that she might not remember him, or that something might have changed between she and his twin, such that he was not meant to be speaking with her. Such things never occurred to Ru'in, whose thoughts were normally preoccupied with understanding how the world worked, and figuring out ways to keep most of his herd away from him. "Hahs sumthin' happahned?"
ru'in
These apartment walls are paper thin.
And no one is trying to listen in.
To hear our doubts, hear our whispered shouts: they don't care.
Tae was in a fowl mood. She was an adult now, how dare anyone try to insist that she had lost her cloak? It had been stolen and the insinuation that she was a child not capable of managing her things was insulting.
Or perhaps she was overreacting. It was possible that her misplaced cloak coinciding with the fact that she was going to ask to become a warrior in the herd (and so for all intents and purposes asking to no longer be viewed as just a child), was just a coincidence. But to Tae it felt personal, as if someone had stolen the cloak so that the others would think her invaluable. How could she be a warrior, if she couldn't even keep track of her things?
Oh how she hated it.
Both Mal and Hel were in snappish moods as well, though the wolves revelled in their low spirits. They snapped at one another, growled, and generally stomped around, rather than carrying themselves with their normal silent but deadly presence. Tae didn't mind one bit, misery loves company after all.
Tae was sure that Grusha was around somewhere. She had told her larger twin that she was going for a walk, which wasn't technically untrue. In reality, she didn't want Grusha to see how upset she was over the lost cloak, and her lack of confidence that perhaps she hadn't just misplaced it somewhere. She wanted to be away from Ampere too - it was a gift from her mother after all.
Despite the fact that Tae presumed that the gathering below would attract members of her family, she landed anyways. Information was power, and Tae would never miss an opportunity to increase the things she knew.
Tae looked around, her pale eyes glowering. She saw Volterra, their gladiator, but avoided his gaze. She still wasn't entirely sure what she thought of him, but knew that if she told him about her missing cloak, he'd probably accuse her of losing it as well. So, with a snarl, she stayed on the opposing side of the little gathering, now wishing that she hadn't left Grusha.
tae
Throw me to the wolves
& I'll come back leading the pack
Thèo had been following his twin. To say that he hadn't been, would have been a lie, and despite the fact that the pale child kept looking around as if picking his own way himself, he always kept the speck of red and black that was his sibling in his peripheral vision, and always kept moving towards him. And why not? Luther always seemed to have so much more direction than his counterpart did. Luther found the interesting places in the Throat, Luther made dry quips about things, and Luther seemed to know what he was doing. Seemed, being the keyboard. But for a mind as open and honest as Thèo's, that was all it took.
The paler twin tried opening his wings and catching the air the way Luther had, but failed. Perhaps it was because he was rushing, or simply because he hadn't had the opportunity to practice. But the most air that Luther caught, the further away he was pulled, and Thèo was left running across the sands in an effort to catch up.
Eventually he did, and quickly he saw the group which had accumulated upon the beach. Of course, at its centre, was the creature that had come out of the water only a few days before. Thèo tilted his head curiously, trotting eagerly forward, completing forgetting about his aching muscles that had carried him all the way across the desert to this place. His green-bright gaze took in all who had arrived - a large number of them from the Throat - but finally settled upon his twin.
"Lut-" He began to call in a voice which was deliciously boyish and bright, but then quickly stopped. The child didn't want to draw attention to himself, especially not when it could be considered interrupting. Surely Kisamoa had things to say? He wouldn't just be standing around, would he? And so, with his wings pressed firmly against his skinny flanks, Thèo began to weave his way through the crowd as stealthily as possible. Though for a boy who was constantly in a literal spotlight, this was no easy task.
"Hey, what did I miss?" He whispered into Luther's ear, still panting slightly. He looked cool behind himself to see if he had disturbed anyone on his way over, when he caught sight of @Ultima . She was standing so near that for a moment Thèo didn't know if she had been someone he had knocked up against in order to get to his brother. He looked sheepishly at the pastel stains on her coat, and hoped that none of his sweat had transferred onto her. Swallowing hard, Thèo looked up, stark sea-green eyes full of laughter, despite the apologetic smile on his lips.
mathèo
Oh Lady, running down to the riptide
Taken away to the dark side, I wanna be your left hand man
Daaaaaaang. Does this fool walk around with a damn entourage? How is it that anytime anything worth seeing in this place happens, damn near everybody is around to see it? You know how big this place is? You know what kind of bullshit odds it would have to take in order to make this shit make sense?
I look at Princess. Princess looks at me. We both stare at the camera. #jimhalpert
"But Shida? Isn't it strange that you're here? How do you explain that?" How do I explain that? I am here every damn week at this time. "But Shida, they all say that they come to the beach often too" Well they're liars, because if they did, I'd recognize 'em, and let me tell you what, they'd recognize more bits of me than they'd care to admit to.
Anyways. So a contest is it? Yeah, isn't it always.
I sigh heavily and begin trodding over (what? Don't look at me like that. Don't even say the word hypocrite. Don't even think it). Who knows, maybe I'll see my Ma and Auri and we can reminisce about the fact that I have a kid they don't really know about, and maybe we can hug it out and plan our next holiday-special. I don't fucking know. But when you're afternoon ass-washing is interrupted by a sea-monster lugging is ass out of the lagoon, you fucking go over and take a damn look.
"Keep an eye on him, Princess." I said testily. "Might be that we need to blow some folks up today." The seriousness in my voice was now completely gone. What the hell. Like I had anything better to do.
The creature from the Riptide isles, the one that assembled himself from various creatures and plant matter of the ocean, constructed a bridge of similar materials, and beseeched the inhabitants of Helovia for help in the restoration of the Dead Lands calls out again, this time his voice a little lighter than the grave narrative of his first speech. He calls for fun this time and the old stallion can't help but hope that he means their kind of fun and not his with that jumble of shark and barracuda teeth.
Such an offer usually comes with the promise of magic or companions or baubles, like the shell encrusted crown the creature had gifted a young Pegasus at his first appearance, and a crowd quickly gathers. The old stallion follows, though he stays well back in the throng. The creature of sea salt and sand is making a big show of his friendliness, an obvious desire to rally Helovians behind his word and action driving his enthusiasm, but jaded as an elderly cast off can be, the black only wonders what can be gained and what consequences might an alliance with the mysterious creature bring. He claims to work in the name of the Earth god and who among them could disprove such a claim but the Earth god himself? It all seems too neatly cut for the old man, his emerald eyes gleaming cold and shrewd from the rear of the crowd.
For now he simply watches and lets the more eager test these unknown waters. It's not until the first few claimants of fun and challenge finally speak up that he notices how many of the other faces stand silent and wary around him, mirrors of his own apprehension in various colors. He notices the white faced stallion from the thistle incident among them and gravitates toward his muscular side.
"Alby talks" 'Strom talks'
OOC // Spectating only. Moves to stand beside @Volterra
image by mar!
Rated M, R, NC-17, AO, 18+, NSFW Tag dat azz! @Albrecht Violence & Magic okay. Wish - Away - OOC
10-21-2016, 09:06 AM (This post was last modified: 10-21-2016, 09:06 AM by Zèklè.)
There's another call, and of course you follow it. How couldn't you? You're fascinated by this whole thing, drawn to it like a moth to flame. Kisamoa is a mystery from that thing that fascinates you most in the world - the ocean - and you will not pass up an opportunity to learn more about him and the tasks he has in place for you. In your trusting nature, you have no questions about the strange quasi-god's intent; in your experience, things that want to kill you generally don't waste time getting to it, and things that don't are worth exploring.
Besides, you love a challenge.
There's a lot of people there already when you reach the scene, so this time you linger toward the back, arcing your neck in an attempt to see over the mass of much taller horses. Again, you see a lot of strangers, but there are familiar faces here, too. Your sister, for one, looking pissed, as well as Erebos and Ultima and some others of your myriad of most-likely-friends. They are all far too absorbed in the goings on, though, and you do not push through to reach any of their sides. You've discovered that crowds make you feel somewhat awkward. There's a weird flicker, too, a kind-of-person that you can't quite focus on, a sort of semi-figure that your eyes keep drifting to and over, unable to focus in on whatever it is.
And then there is Isopia, also lingering on the outside. Here's somewhere you can hang out, and she's even tall enough to tell you if you miss anything. You slide up next to her, a bright grin on your boyish face, unconsciously placing your barren side between her and the world. "Whadya think 'bout all this, Iso?" you whisper. Her opinion is one you value immensely, and you have been wanting to ask it since the whole thing began.
Your eyes keep drifting back to the mystery spot, but your attention is split between it, your friend, and the goings on. It is all very stimulating, and as always, you are deeply preoccupied with a deep curiosity for what will come next.
Zèklè
Sigh no more, no more
One foot in sea, one on shore
I heard a whispered dream of you in the prayer of the stars and the hymn of the rain
She is out in the world, exploring this new land where her Gods have sent her, and trying to understand why they would cast her into such a frightening realm. The ocean continues to terrify her, mysterious and dark and unknowable as it is. It makes her new home an uneasy one; despite her desire to overcome her fear, the rain girl has carefully avoided the bluffs at the rim of the Edge. The very sight of the sea makes her dizzy, and she lives with a certain terror of falling off those jagged cliffs, tumbling to her doom. To a girl raised in landlocked mountains cut by crystalline streams, the murky endlessness of the sea is like a sky without stars, the stuff of stories told to children to instill in them a fear of sin.
So when the Call arrives she is conflicted, torn between her terror and her faith. What but a celestial voice could utter such cries that they both echo like thunder and whisper like wind, pulling at the strands of her hair and the strings of her heart? Noe is a Priestess, the Voice of Sky and Stars; she cannot deny the requests of Heaven, even if the God who summons is not hers. At the same time she is frightened, unsure, and for a moment she hesitates, poised in the precipice of indecision, her fear of denying a potential god at odds with her horror at the sight of the sea.
In the end she is a priestess, born and bred, and the girl cannot deny the strength of her faith. She drifts closer, hooves unsteady as they stumble through the sand, honey eyes looking everywhere but the sea. The sight of familiar faces emboldens her slightly- she smiles toward Erthë before setting out in Tilney's direction, the Moon Doctor a beacon of security in an uncertain world. How wonderful it would be to sing, to summon a soft shield of rain and hide herself from the cavernous sea! If only her gods had struck her down, slain her for her crimes instead of casting her into this hell! Painted coat shivers against the blasphemous thought; Forgive me, O Celestials, she silently intones, shame deepening the dark pit at the bottom of her stomach. You are wiser than I; I am but a voice for your beauty, a vessel for your hymn.
When she reaches Tilney she is exhausted, her sides heaving with heavy breaths, her body dark with sweat despite the chill. The girl's crowned head is bowed, and Noe's warm eyes remain fixed on her hooves, only shifting to peripherally confirm that it is, in fact, the tree-marked stallion who she stands beside. She can see the legs of others; she lets herself rise enough to spot a bloodstained flank before the idea of the ocean overwhelms her once more, and she is forced to look back down. Nausea churns in the pit of her stomach; she is dizzy, lightheaded, but she bites her lip and forces it down, shutting her eyes and pinning down her ears.
"Tilney," the Voice of Sky and Stars (but certainly not Sea) manages between labored breaths, her melodious voice strangled by her rising panic and tightening airway, "Have we been summoned here by a god?"
Trotting down the beach, Duir and I simply happen upon Kisamoa today, rather than being summoned by the booming sound of his voice.
There are already a good many strangers gathered about, as well as the usual familiar faces. Volterra, Erthë, the girl who’d randomly attacked me on the beach (I’m sure to stay far away from her, my ribs still sore from that particular encounter), Albrecht, and Erebos.
The same wary tension that steals me anytime I’ve run into him since the fight with his sire rises, a frown stealing the eager smile of curiosity as to what was going on. I don’t have enough friends to risk losing one, and, if I already have, I’d rather not know, even if the desperate loneliness, and desire to be brothers with him, laughing and cajoling as we had at other mass gatherings, rises as I settle into the outskirts.
Almost leaning against a jagged boulder, I’m barely close enough to hear their excited voices rise and fall.
We help today? asks Duir, his somewhat less dramatically oversized ears tilted towards the sea-God.
"Maybe," I answer quietly, golden eyes still locked on Kisamoa.
Not want boy to see you? continues the buck; though I don’t answer, he snorts, his dark lips curving into a knowing and gentle smile. You are stupid, sometimes, Rikyn.
"And so are you," I grumpily snort, lion’s tail striking across the cerndyr’s backside in a disgruntled (but still friendly enough) gesture.
[ OOC: Stands on the outskirts (per usual, you loner). Just watching, but willing to help! ]
10-21-2016, 10:32 AM (This post was last modified: 10-21-2016, 11:07 PM by smitty.)
the language of waves
The seahorse had stalked Kisamoa. Or, at least, she had tried to follow and stick in his turbulence beneath the waves after he had left the Riptide Isles. And, while the warrior had never been the most adept at tracking training, it was as if Kis simply disappeared the moment he was done speaking with the masses. It seemed the Earth God, and is minions, would forever escape the seahorse’s pleas for information of her Akvo.
However, her seaworthy pursuit of the admirable (what? when had the woman begun to think of him as such? Perhaps it was because he was the closest thing to Akvo she had yet found) luckily placed her near the chilled, northern waters of the Endless Blue. And it was with raised ridges and tightly pinned face-fins, she rested from her fruitless following on the sandy ocean floor. Though she was in the shallows, this part of Helovia’s ocean was cold. She much preferred the Isles with their temperate seas.
Her gills opened and closed, pinning tightly against the sand the turbulent breakers above her rose into the salty water when she was not breathing. And, though she tried to rest, her luminous and overlarge eyes would not close. His words, the first true Akvian she had heard in seasons (had it been years?) echoed in her mind, “ "Ni parolu poste de la maro.” A simple sentence, but the promise beneath them weighed more than, perhaps, even he knew.
So, her swiveling and over-sensitized ears caught a deep rumble through the water. But it wasn’t clear (it must have been spoken above surface) and the waves’ rumble muddled it even more. But, still, the effect the seaborne was immediate: she lunged above the waves, ridged neck cresting well above the roiling waves as unblinking eyes scraped the shore--
There.
There was Kisamoa, with a tell-tale gather of Helovians around him. A sharp claw of frustration speared her mind—with so many around, how was she to speak with him? Did they now know the importance of the information he held? So it was with tense nostrils, undulating ridges, and softly pulsing skin that she rapidly swam up the shoreline and breached the beach. Her fins quivered with tension, for once not even seeing the many feathered individuals on the beach as her intensely bright stare bored at Kis.
Though Larue had, at first, been wary of this strange hodgepodge of a creature that had appeared out of the dark depths of the sea (because what filly, prone to tricking others, wouldn’t be suspicious of some strange man?); she found, upon listening to him, seeing his smiles, and hearing the others’ reaction to his words, that her caution was thrown to the wind. Not that it, really, had weighed very heavily on or clung very tightly to her tiny, lemony shoulders. Caution was just not something that mixed well in a spritely, devious little girl.
So, with prancing hooves and avid teal eyes, she pertly trotted over the dunes to find a mass of others already gathered—and so many foals! Where were all these foals to help her and Kiada with their tricks? Her bright eyes narrowed slightly, barely even looking at Kis because (due to some semblance of wariness), she was not inclined to play any of her tricks on him.
But, with so many eyes watching and looking around, she simply sidled up alongside a woman who mentioned ’blowing up some folks today.’ ( @Shida ) There was something alluring about that idea—the havoc it would wreak and the surprise it would give everyone. So, with a small and mischievous grin, she approached the buckskin mare.
“Heya—“ her pert voice was hushed, though to be truthful, she wasn’t very adept at this ‘whispering’ business, “Hey, can I help you? Blow up stuff, I mean.” Her bright teal eyes gleamed at the prospect of causing mischief with an adult. They mostly just yelled at her and bemoaned her pranks. Except of Banjo, that horsearoo. And mom seemed to be coming around to her tricks. But mostly they didn’t like them one but.
So, with her dark flaxen tail twitching in anticipation, she peered up at the sandy colored, two-horned lady.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEARNED BY NOW, I'LL BURN THIS WHOLE WORLD DOWN
Something interesting is happening in Helovia. This much is obvious, even to the young colt. The air smells of change, and it makes the feathers of his wings bristle in anticipation.
Sand flicks up against his legs as he trots along the beach, bull-horned head held high. The months have thickened the calf's body and strengthened his limbs and neck, lending him a slightly less gawky air. His horns have grown, and now span a quite impressive rack on top of his sculpted skull. He is still gangly, inelegant and spindle-legged, however, and his stride across the sand is far from elegant. Arakh has grown better at holding his wings close to his body so they don't slow him down when he's running, but it still takes quite a lot of his concentration for him to pin them to his sides and prevent them fluttering away unbidden. That lessens the concentration he has to spend on his stride, leading to clumsiness and a potential to go flying over random rocks.
He soon arrives at a large crowd, and quickly scans it for familiar faces. He can see a couple of his siblings, but not the only one who matters - Esinakh. In her absence, as well as his mother's, he finds himself hunting around for somebody else to speak to, somebody else to discuss the odd appearance of Kisamoa with.
The lad's chosen one is the unicorn filly who spoke to him during the companion drop. She seemed nice enough, and she is a familiar face in a sea of strangeness. "You there with egg," says the boy as he approaches her. "Who you?" It is his slightly brusque way of asking for her name, and he draws to a halt alongside her with a idle rustling of his wings.
He looks to the sea-creature, his young brow curved into a frown. "What you think of sea-man?" he questions, eyeing the filly with interest.
10-21-2016, 11:00 PM (This post was last modified: 10-21-2016, 11:43 PM by Ausar.)
Ausar
This land certainly was expansive, to say the very least. Not to mention.. All-encompassing? Ausar had never seen such a varied population in his life. Granted, his "life" thus far involved one world and one world alone, in which anything that did not please him was dead shortly thereafter. It had been a pretty great existence, if he did say so himself. Unfortunately, having murder overlooked by the masses involved gaining their trust first, genuinely having them like him. While that sounded great and all, it made his blood curdle a little.
But what the hell, he'd follow the strangely omnipresent voice to the beach just like everyone else. It gave him a reason to be social, which, as previously mentioned, was exactly what he needed to accomplish at this stage. It gave him the urge to accidentally "trip" and impale someone on his spines, but he'd resist... For now.
The moment his hooves hit the sand, Ausar felt a sense of relief. The ground cover was his favorite, for reasons beyond him; the water that generally rested beside it, not so much. The thing now standing at attention in the center of the gathering was... Interesting. Fathomless yellow eyes fell along the others one by one, silently scrutinizing. He wasn't the plainest creature in existence, but he was damn near normal compared to some of these kooks. Was that thing red? And what in the sweet hell was that smell? He didn't inhale any deeper for fear of gagging, but it was potent enough he could nearly taste it.
The brute entered the scene shortly after some aqueous thing - that... glowed? Alright maybe he could enact his plan elsewhere - emerged from the ocean with a seeming air of importance. This brought Ausar to pause, orbs roving the maybe-equid, before he decided that befriending the amphibian was likely in his best interest. After all, it could travel places he could not, if it had truly appeared out of the sea and his eyes had not been deceived. Focused on this new goal, the demon made his way over to it (her? It look like it might be a her), ignoring any other along his path. Except that thing with the impressive buck teeth, and was that a buffalo? Whatever, he kept moving - he could observe them later, possibly without their knowledge. He may have brushed against someone unwelcomed en route to the literal seahorse, but his mind was preoccupied and he couldn't bring himself to even flick a glance backward to determine if anyone had been disturbed.
It made more sense from a personal boundaries / general public acceptance standpoint for Ausar to land somewhere along the ring of equids that was steadily forming, but he could hardly be bothered with formalities. Ignoring all else, he finally settled beside the glowing mare (definitely female, he decided), aligning himself in parallel. For several breaths he merely eyed her, gathering his thoughts so his first words weren't any indication of his true self, such as "What the fuck are you?"
Bad Ausar. Bad. Be pleasant, make these horses like you.
"You look a little salty," he tried instead, smirking lightly. His cords were smokier than usual from disuse, but maybe she'd find it endearing. Probably not, but a man could hope.
Just watching!
Speaks directly to @aquila, makes note of @larue, peculiar @luther, is impressed by @ru'in's horns, and calls @albrecht a buffalo.. Potentially bumped into several others while making his way over to Aquila, so feel free to say he brushed past whoever!
Please only tag in opening posts.
Contact/Force/Magic always permitted provided you're not killing or irreparably damaging him!
The Edge had been relaxing in a way, an interesting way to enjoy the simpler things in life without love or duties to worry about. The only thing distracting the gilded mare now was the necessity in finding her lost son. Yet, as she followed her only daughter to the beach, she realized the draw that took the filly in and reminisced in the ways that it resembled her own self. Perhaps her fiery child was far more like her than she had seen – been so far blinded by life around her and responsibilities to simply learn the little things about her family.
She enjoyed this, though, and found a small smile grow on her pale lips as she paused a bit away from where her daughter ended. Her eyes scanned over the crowd for a few moments, noticing Ru’in – Hotaru’s son – approach her daughter. Her smile faltered slightly at the sight, her heart shifting and feeling heavy within her breast at his mother and her last encounter, of all the words shouted and screamed at her. She hoped that her daughter had a better relationship with the deer-like child than she had for the moment for his mother.
Her eyes scanned the crowd once more, spotting Tilney among the crowd. She decided she could leave her daughter to her own devices, her brain mentally noting all the faces she had seen and different scents she encountered as she made her way through the gathering to the tree-man’s side. Turning her head to the Moon Doctor she grinned to him. “Tilney! I hope you don’t mind me accompanying.” She commented, offering him a wink with a little laugh before turning her attention to the oceanic voice who had called them all here.
10-22-2016, 03:28 AM (This post was last modified: 10-22-2016, 03:29 AM by Tiamat.)
Well my heart is bigger than the earth—
The ocean mare takes heed of the sea creature’s—Kisamoa’s—call with little hesitation. While there is still a barbed, nasty cord of suspicion that refuses to release her mind completely, she is still the hopeful and innocent healer that she has always been. Although she treads with barely-concealed caution and her glass heart threatens to break, she refuses to give in to these black feelings that have haunted her. Kis’ intentions seem pure, even beneficial to the people of Helovia, and he talks to them gently; how could she not give him the benefit of the doubt?
Having not strayed far from the large, oceanic creature in the days since his arrival, Tiamat doesn’t take long to reach the shores where he stands. Cloven hooves splash gently through the shallow current as she approaches, her sapphire toes sinking into the wet sand beneath her weight. Eventually coming to hover somewhere near the back of the gathering, she hesitates for a moment, breathing deeply. The salty air and the rush of waves calms her. To have her father so close is a blessing, especially in such a time as this, when her fledgling mind is torn between her inner turmoil. Nimue, too, has served as an invaluable anchor of support (the little whale aiding her bonded far more than her young mind could comprehend).
Aware of Nimue’s touch against her shoulder, the blue Mender ponders Kis’ ‘challenge’. What could it possibly be? What could it mean for them? Of course, she does not automatically assume the worst outcome, but much to her sorrow, that little black part of her whispers a promise of omens and doom (bloodshed plaguing them again, as it had those many months ago).
Flicking the length of her lion tail uneasily over the foamy waters, large white eyes roam over those gathered. Not far from where she stands, Tiamat notices one particular familiar face, somewhat secluded from the rest, and lingering on the outskirts like herself. Blowing from her nostrils, she decides to join him without a second thought. Picking her way through the others, she soon finds herself settling at the young stallion’s shoulder. “Hello,” she offers both him and his deer a warm smile, “What do you suppose Kisamoa has in store for us today?” She can’t help the waver of fear in her voice, unable to rid the images of death and hate from her mind.
“He seems amiable enough,” Tiamat’s smile widens, though she isn’t sure who she is trying to convince more—Rikyn or herself. Shifting her weight to stand a little closer to the taller unicorn, the Mender draws comfort from his company (whether he likes it or not). If nothing else, Rikyn should know that he has at least one friend who hasn’t given up on him.
The call had been heard. And a trail of hoof prints through the dune’s thick sand showed that many had heeded it. But Esinakh… the young calf stood, wide-eyed and uncertain, trembling atop the dune’s foliage. She had made it thus far only by skirting the sand and walking on the hardy, dry shrubs that grew among the sandy knolls. One, in particular, was prolific and useful to walk on, though its luminously blue underside (Sandivy) had been flipped up by a breeze and brushed against her right cannon bone. The delicate, overly sensitive skin was already beginning to itch.
So, she raised her her right forelimb as she crested the last dune, pale grey eyes sweeping and searching for brother. Always looking for brother. There were many there, gathered around the same strange beast from the water as before. And there was still something about his asymmetry that irked and bothered the young, neurotic calf. But she found that she was no longer fearful of him, as she was in the Isles. No, how could she be scared of him when there was something so much worse all around her? A gust of wind picked up a puff of sand and blew it across the dunes to her right, sending a shiver through her small body and causing grey clay to gush along her spine.
She bleated softly, black and white rimmed ears pinning against her skull in fear. Why had she come to the beach? What power or pull did this Earth God cousin have over Helovia? She knew it was likely because she had simply wanted to be near Rak. He was the safety in the midst of all this upheaval. So her eyes, after blinking away fearful tears, continued to search for her grey brother—though instead found the same lopsided-wing boy she saw when Kis first showed his face.
She bleated more loudly this time, slender neck and barred face outstretched. But there were so many horses, and the wind, and Kis was bound to talk soon in his deep, booming voice. So she oscillated atop the dunes, unable to go onto the sand but so badly wanting to.
Macaria finds herself stumbling upon more and more these days. The air had a different sparkle this Orangemoon, much different from her first Orangemoon – the wind even seems to have a certain crisp to it, different than the normal autumnal frosty aromas; the sweet scent of elegant decay. No, this season was different - Could it be me?? She questions herself, raising her tail over her back to curl and twitch while she ponders. She's come to the lively shores of the Blue today for further exploration. The whales, or so she was told they were called 'whales', were so very active this time of year last harvest season and so she'd like a closer look.
As she walks over dune and sand, grass then pebble, then sand again, her mind wanders lovingly into daydreams. The waves lull her away and she can see Kisamoa emerging from the waves to walk beside her, nothing is said, as it is a dream of sunlight and wishes and memories, but she can feel him. She can smell his salty body, feel the strands of sea-weed tickle her ribs as his imaginary form walks calmly at her shoulder. She smiles with merry satisfaction, snapping the pale plume of her tail through the dreamt apparition beside her, her mind's eye languidly letting go of Kis's mirage.
There is extra magic afoot, I know it. Her thoughts are always speaking to her mother, as if she's buried deep within, listening and frowning or grinning – though Macaria is always tortured to guess which any given turn.
"Helovians! I call to you again, but this time for fun! I've a challenge for you!"
His voice is loud and clear, traveling like the sea breezes, quick and flowing so gently over your cupped ears (if you've got horse ears, anyway). She skids a small bit in the shifty warm sand, her toes splaying under her weight as she somewhat slams to a halt and half pivots to face the source of bright sound. She can see the gulls give way, spreading away from the sudden influx of bodies that crowd to the creature. The dappled girl hesitates, slanting her head to the side and eyeing the growing group with a vibrant golden eye. Her lionine tail sinks gracefully to hover inches above the disturbed sand below, dragging a few white hairs from the tip through the dusty granules.
She decides that she only needs to get a small bit closer, hanging behind the group instead of shoving her way through. Her size could probably get her wherever she wanted to stand, in front, in the middle, wherever – but her mind would surely prefer she stay put. She wades into knee deep water to steal a glimpse of what she'd dreamt only moments ago while she lumbered through the dunes in the opposite direction.
__________ Water x Fire :: Morphs into an aqueous vapor orb.
Restrictions: Cannot attack. Small sphere, 1 ft circumference. Lethargy if used too long [several hours].
(feel free to tweak if that is too muchhh <3) 1 refusal
10-22-2016, 12:13 PM (This post was last modified: 10-22-2016, 01:04 PM by smitty.)
The Elephant King stood, tall and silent, watching the strange man that had called them. There was a part of him that wished to help the lone soldier—seeing some of himself in the overworked man that simply wanted companionship. But there was another part, a part that roiled in protest every time Kisamoa smiled those strange and mismatched teeth, that held him back along the dunes. From this vantage, he could better see what was occurring, despite his innate urging to join the many foals that mulled about in the gathering of bodies.
His navy gaze found many from his herd there—Tilney, Sacre, Erthe, Alune, Oizys (the troublemaker), Glasgow, Arakh, Esinakh. And those who no longer were apart of his family: Ultima. And Kvasir, who he had not seen in long months. Though, naturally, his eyes gaze came to rest on the only child of his present, Kiada, and her mother, Rexanna. Long limbs shifted forward, bringing him near the golden siren, but he still hung back—the thought of Thranduil’s warm eyes on her face fresh in his mind from the previous Kis encounter.
And, now, he was close enough to protect them, if he needed to. But he could still see the overall scene from his slightly displaced position. And so how low rumble called, “What sort of fun do you have in mind, Kis?” It was heard easily over the crash of waves, and there was warmth in both his tone and his face as he spoke. But his eyes were creased and withheld a wariness known well to fathers.
Mbwene beelined for the waves, splashing her trunk in the salty sea, entirely oblivious to any other creature for the moment.
10-22-2016, 12:23 PM (This post was last modified: 10-23-2016, 06:53 PM by Kianzo.)
Kianzo
The dark princeling had followed his would-be captor. Though, truthfully, the small golden woman was far too… nice for such a name. Her ominous airs had been just that: airs. And her words had been… well they sat in the back of the colt’s mind, festering. He was unable to shake them.
So, not knowing the depth of sorrow he caused his family, he stalked the woman. Though hers was a light frame built for running long distances quite quickly, while his was a young frame growing into strength. So he had lost her (curiously quickly, as if she had just disappeared). But he had followed her close enough to the shore to hear a strange, booming call: “Helovians! I call to you again, but this time for fun! I've a challenge for you!”
And, immediately, his dark ambitions shouted in glee within his mind. A challenge?! One he could win. And such calls often earned a response from many Helovians. Perhaps…perhaps his sister would be present. Though his mind had been preoccupied by Goldie’s presence, the acute ache for his other half had never dulled during its entire duration. He had just been… ashamed by his actions around her after their encounter with the tierboskat. How could he make his other half feel insignificant? How could he do that to his sister, the only other being he loved?
So, it was with uncertain steps that he walked along the dunes. Still in the deep sand, he kept his distance as his eyes immediately (instinctively) fell on Kiada as his eyes peered out from the sandy knolls. And he waited, watching to see how she acted with this challenge.
There is no such thing as ready. There is only now.
They wandered back to the sea, where the tides rippled, where the salt sprayed, where the gulls cried and she’d once tried to match their pitches, their notes, their tunes, and found herself burned, scarred, and marred. The course of this interval was undetermined, but curiosity had fought over the wariness, had battled the apprehension, had coursed through her fortitude and came out far more persevering – still, she worried, uncertain over how to progress, what to do, veins ready for something treacherous to slide and slither along the crowd and heart hoping it’d never happen. Lena and Imogen roamed closer and closer, alongside shells and torrents, catching bits and phrases from strangers and the beast from the deep, eyes swiveling over the gathered bunch and intending to catch a friend, to help solve and piece together this strange, unsettling puzzle. Did anyone else feel the same as her – outmatched by mysteries, by paradoxes, yearning to believe in the best when they’d been seen the worst too many times before? Her gaze eventually fell upon the blue hide of Tiamat, distinct against craggy rocks and sandy shoreline, noting the young Rikyn near her as well. She sidled up near the sea-girl’s side, a smile adorning her lips despite the concern pulsing and beating within her chest. The Time Mender nodded to Illynx’s son as well, respectful and regal, noble and considerate, wondering, wondering, and wondering what the world was going to do. “Good day!” she uttered from the brushes of harmony, quiet and stoked by assuaging motions, the grin still there, still evident, still strong and driven because that was who she encompassed. “I’m intrigued by this challenge.” Her stare wandered from them to the crowd, immersed in the same spirits, pondering and curious, awaiting a strike, dismissal, or glory, triumph emboldened into their souls, into their essences. She released the golden edges, the delightful warmth, the fond, amiable fortitude for all of their sakes, breathing deeply into the melodious whims and yearning for it to last. “Perhaps we require the water to help cleanse the earth?” Her head tilted, her shoulders shrugged, and Imogen buzzed, pervaded her senses, calm, composed, and elegant despite the dilemma churning through her core.
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![[Image: 56c616e54affc]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/56c616e54affc)
![[Image: lovelyskylark.gif?8]](http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/l/o/lovelyskylark.gif?8)
