"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.
12-13-2016, 12:19 PM (This post was last modified: 12-18-2016, 11:28 AM by Myrrine.
Edit Reason: Opening the thread
)
Myrrine
The waves lapped against her hooves as her tears fell into the salty brine. She was breathing heavily, staring hard at the water below her, letting the sobs roll through her dainty frame as her mind was spinning. All she had to do was walk in and never walk out, the waves would swallow her in their sweet embrace and let her be free of this all. It was all one step away for her, one step away to reach her salvation to the promise land where there were no judgmental stares and hateful words. There was no constant guilt that she couldn't be good enough for anyone, that she was but a burden like a thorn on one's side. If she were to simply let go and walk into the waves and never come back she could finally get away from the hurt that her daughter didn't even love her.
"Were you ever worth anything Myrrine?" she asked herself weakly, sniffling and continuing to watch the show of the sand being kicked around by the gentle current. She knew it was stronger the further out one went, but for now this tender embrace was soothing to her aching soul. She wanted to at least be somewhat at peace before she let herself go. That was the one thing she would ask of the Gods and this world, to let her go peacefully. Everyone would be happier once she was finally gone. One of her hooves shifted in discomfort from the seaweed wrapped around her ankle tightly, the heavy stone next to it barely moving from her tug. It would be hard at first to move, but once she found momentum they would happily sink into the sand the deeper she went. All she had to do was just walk in. Yet she remained frigid at the edge of the blue, breathing still heavy and the whites of her eyes red. She was a mess, and she always would be one, because no one saw her as anything else.
Tilney's words had killed her back in the Threshold. He had laced them as if trying to coax a little babe out from hiding, but the gleam in his eyes showed his malice, his intention deep within. Laume had needed help, had needed someone to love her and care for the boo boos she got from her reckless play. She needed a mother, and Myrrine had been none of those. She had been a selfish child that ran away from her problems because it had been easier. Though it hurt her so much, to think of her little babe sitting alone and crying, wanting her mama just to come home, she knew that she couldn't be what little Laume deserved. She deserved something so much better than a dead father and a whore who couldn't keep herself away from men in an emotional state. Tilney would be a good father figure to her. Perhaps Arah would nurse her and their child would be an amazing sibling to her spotted princess. Maybe Laume could have the family Myrrine knew she always wanted. She could be happy, and Myrrine can disappear so she can forget about the disease that had made her suffer so.
"Will I find you Mother? Will you tell me how to be a good parent when I couldn't be? Perhaps abandonment is genetic since my birth mother did the same," she was looking into the sky now, watching the clouds happily roll by as if it wasn't the middle of Frostfall, and she wasn't about to plunge herself deep into the ocean and let the water fill her lungs. A cool, salty breeze blew through her milky tresses, kissed her wet cheeks and filled her senses with ocean and sand, like this was all just a fun day at the beach. Yes, that's what'd she'd tell herself. She was here to have a fun day at the beach, to play in the sand and run along the shoreline before going in for a nice little swim. Taking a deep breath, she looked at the stones by her ankles quietly, wondering if she really needed them. The waves were strong enough to pull her under if she didn't fight it, so perhaps they didn't need to be by her at all. It would make everything go faster she concluded.
Removing the seaweed from her legs she sighed, looking into the sky quietly, sadly, before slowly turning back to the waves before her. She closed her eyes to savor these last moments; the sand beneath her feet, the cry of a loan seagull, the smell of salt and sky and her own tears. She was finally ready, she had said her mental goodbyes to this world, and with a look of determination in her eyes she whispered carelessly into the breeze,"I love you Laume. I will see you soon Quilyan." Without another word she began to walk into the waters, ignoring the biting claws of the icy temperature, and going deeper and deeper to face her doom.
"Talk."
the butterfly is proof that great darkness can create great beauty
det är tårar, kan man gråta som en karl?
The ocean is life.
The ocean is death.
It is a deceptively peaceful, even beautiful, thing, stretching from horizon to horizon, with the finest of sterling borders against its sapphire blue expanse. During storms it roars and rolls, swallows the shore, but even when it does, it doesn't look like a killer.
Killers are black-clothed, red-eyed, with anger and violence, perhaps cold calculation and sterile, sharp blades—killers aren't the blue glittering under the sun.
But perhaps it is the heart that is the killer, and not the ocean.
- - - - - - -
He had seen this before. He had done this before, too many times, as one time is too many. He had found death and life on the beach, had run for different purposes, so many things—like scars in his mind.
Saving. Always saving, never losing, but the threat had always been real, lurking along the fear-stained borders of his mind. The tug of the current, the chill settling in tired, exhausted muscles battling a tide stronger than their own ferocity. Desperation gave life. Love overcame odds. And that was how they still lived, those he had saved from the sea.
From edges and sharp things, long falls and slow deaths.
He had been strong enough to save Glacia from the jaws of death. He hadn't slept in a glacier for months then.
Dark crescents in the sand led up to where he stood, a silent figure with the waves lapping about his pasterns, one hind leg further out behind him as he stared into the arms of the sea, and at the black-spotted back of the mare walking into it. It wasn't playful. It wasn't inattentive and excitable, simply happening to wander too far out; it was determined and stubborn, braving wave after wave as the ocean tried to usher her back in to the shore.
He had seen that walk before.
Had, maybe, even made it himself.
She was walking to Death.
And he couldn't possibly save her.
He had been a cloud's shadow gliding over the sands, and she hadn't noticed him—nor had he called out for her, curious as to what she would do. She always seemed so.. young, eager for all life had to offer; but shouldn't his own daughter have taught him that youth does not mean hope strong enough to overcome the darkness lavished on them by this corrupt world?
His conscience wouldn't forgive him if he simply watched her give her life away, but he envied her the gift of death, the choice she had: he had one too, to fall onto his knees before the Moon and beg for release from his stupidity, but it felt too much like defeat so he couldn't bring himself to right the wrong he had wrought on himself.
And if he would not be enough to make her want to live—who was he to force her to stay alive, to knock her senseless, and drag her back to shore?
Perhaps she would want his company, walking into the abyss. (He wonders what it would be like to drown; wonders, with a hunger.)
The water moved for him, molded itself with cold hands around his body as he walked into the waves after her, quiet and resolute.
It was cold. So cold that her fur began to numb before she could feel the shivers along her spine. Numb was good. Numb meant she couldn't feel when the end came, that it would be simpler; especially with no one around to interrupt it. It was when the sloshing of water behind her did she finally pause, fighting against the waves now at the bottom of her chest, watery eyes slowly looking behind her to find the person she least expected to find. Of course it would be him. It was always him. When was he not around when she was at her lowest point. He was walking towards her now, letting the water engulf him eagerly, and suddenly she was terrified. No. He wasn't allowed to leave. She was doing this because it was better for everyone else. She was nothing, she was a plague upon Helovia that needed to be vanquished.
But he, no he was worth something. He was loved by all in the Edge, had been their Queen, their confidant. He was there in everyone's life, and if there was no Mauja then there was nothing. He was loved and admired and cared for by many; even the Moon Goddess adored him. Could he not see how much of a blessing he was to everyone? She couldn't let him tarnish that all; couldn't watch him drown in the waves because he simply decided to follow her. Swallowing she turned, letting the current shove her nearly right into him as she attempted to push him back, hazel eyes that were often so gentle with him now hard. With a cry she looked at him stubbornly, brows furrowed because she was angry. Not at him, but what he was trying to do. Grinding her teeth she stared him down, refusing to move in the current that attempted to grab her and have its way with her, finally speaking in a hoarse, raw voice,"You can't be here. You must go Mauja. How long have you been watching me?"
And now the tears were falling again, because she realized out of everyone she should have said goodbye to was Mauja. He had been nothing but kind to her, had given her many a shoulder to cry on, had talked to her about her first time having sex for crying out loud. Even when he saw what it resulted in, he had supported her silently, her rock, her only constant in this hell she was living in. How could she have so selfishly forgotten him? Sniffling and trying to remain angry despite her resolve fading, she could only watch him for so long before breaking down, head lowering just above the water as she sobbed. Her shoulders shook up and down, lifting so much one would think she was rolling them, and she didn't know when she was going to stop. She thought she was over this by now; that she had accepted her fate and was ready to let go.
But then this spotted man came back and she remembered just how much she was going to miss him. She would always cherish him and what he'd done for her, always appreciate the day they first met. On this exact beach. How funny; this would be where they would say their final goodbye. Looking up at him abruptly she stared into his beautiful blue eyes, studied his spiral horn that she had been so fascinated with the first time she saw it, and with a sad, bittersweet smile she continued,"Gods I'm going to miss you Mauja. Did you know that I love you? Not in that stance, that is simply too much for me to comprehend; but I love you so much. Even if you never really talked to me, or let me know why you were always so sad. I've always loved you for you, and I always will."
"Say you'll miss me will you? Even if you're lying; it'll be nice to know that at least someone cared about me before I suffocated on salt water," she was laughing bitterly now, looking back out into the salty blue as the tears began to dry. She was feeling so much better now, yes, this was still the best thing for her to do in the long run. She needed to end this before it all got worse, before she ruined it all for everyone. She wasn't going to let her life destroy others. This needed to end now. Taking a deep breath she looked to Mauja silently, that bitter, half crazed smile on her lips as she quickly gave the speckled man a peck on his cheek, before turning and preparing to dive into the cold depths beneath them.
"Talk."
the butterfly is proof that great darkness can create great beauty
Any force is permitted aside from death or maiming
12-22-2016, 09:45 AM (This post was last modified: 12-22-2016, 09:46 AM by Tilney.)
An Anaesthetic? Aphrodesiac? There were so many rumours surrounding the mysterious creature that was the oyster. Clean cut teeth gripping delicately around the root of each barnacle the stag would pull and pull until he had freed one or it had broken in his mouth and left him a spluttering, squaking mess in the rock pools. The gut-wrenching task of collecting the creatures had fallen to the Moon Doctor not once but twice now, and with no help from the small pool of nurses. All in the name of science - that was what he'd tell himself to just get through it.
The taste of bloodflood found its way to his tongue and a sharp pain in his cheek. Rubbing the side of his mouth on his knee the gent attempted to dislodge what he could only assume was a part of oyster shrapnel lodged in his gum, and, giving a hearty groan, the doctor decided then and there to call the gruesome task done for the day. The (very) few he had successfully managed to collect without issue had been pocketed in the folds of his green cloak that he wore over his hide, held against his skin only by the lions mane collar he always wore with it - it was more than handy having pockets and holds to store things in, and a cloak in general to cheat the wind. There was nothing to make oyster collecting pleasant, though.
And so began the strange, calculated steps along the rocks - one wrong step would lead him tumbling into the sea or a nicely bruised sole and frog. Cloven hooves might be an advantage to walking on rock and ice, but this cragginess was possibly only meant for crabs and seaweed. Upon meeting the half-way point between the lush sand and the opposite end of the treacherous rock pools, a voice reached him on the wind.
Green eyes peering upwards Tilney noted two figures in the distance, both spotted, both familiar and both wading into the depths. Mauja and Myrrinne.
Immediately an arrow was thrown into his heart and a flood of guilt filled his chest; there was no forgetting what he had said to her a number of days prior.
Myrrine stood much too far into the water to be going for a dip... and in the middle of frostfall!? what on earth was she doing?
The flaxen physicians fumbling across the rocks became more urgent until his paces hit the sand and he could set off at a canter towards the pair, only slowing upon approach and catching Myrrine's ominous, solemn words.
it'll be nice to know that at least someone cared about me before I suffocated on salt water.
"Myrrine!"
His voice was almost scolding, demanding her to stop.
In only a few short moments the stag was racing to the waves, attempting to shed his cloak (though in all the panic was unnable to concentrate hard enough to undo any straps). "Please, Stop!" This time his voice came as a plead as he leapt over the tide, thrashing past the emissary and running straight for Myrrine.
"do... you" The stallion was speechless, having no idea what he could say to her to stop this madness. "Do not give in Myrrine. Only the four know there are too many times I have wanted to this past year... Death calls to those who suffer, its peace and perfection offer a release"
the doctors words came out in gasps, verdant gaze constantly searching for the life left in her own. "But we do not know what lays ahead beyond the veil. I'm not sure even the four above know; there could be a haven where loved ones wait or there could be... nothing."
"Despite the pain you endure and that I inflicted upon you, it is also selfishness that prevents you from turning yourself away from the abyss. Do not turn your back on Laume. Do not abandon her a second time!" Now speaking more sternly, a pleading frown firm on his brows as he slinked in front of her. Tilney wouldn't let her drown herself, not while Laume waited in the Edge for the same kind of love Myrrine sought after.
snälla du förlåt mig, jag glömde vem jag var
She noticed him before it was too late.
Her determined strides ceased, and the ocean grew silent, except for its constant, rolling purr, for Mauja had stopped too—her shadow, and nothing more, a false angel under the sun. He said nothing. She said nothing. He could see her thinking, and knew that it was a choice she had to make for herself. It would mean nothing if he forced it upon her. They would find themselves here again, at another time, perhaps another place, but until she chose life over death she would always hunger for reprieve from the demons in her head. (They bear names like guilt and shame, in case you're wondering; at least his does.)
She chose something, at last; life, but not hers.
His.
With the same determination she had used to walk into the sea she turned upon him, wet chest slapping hard against his, eyes shadowed, hard, angry, stubborn glints in their beautiful depths. Unfazed, Mauja looked at her, his eyes soft and blue. "You can't be here. You must go Mauja. How long have you been watching me?" He didn't answer at first. What does one say to that? That there's no law tying his soul, that he can go where he will..? But it was too shallow—what he wondered, as he looked at the girl fighting to make sense of a world where only death offered peace, was if he couldn't be there because she was ashamed. Because she wanted no witnesses to this final act of pain, a kind of cowardice she did not want to be associated with—I wasn't strong enough, the words had been on his lips, and if no one saw her death, they would all wonder if she had simply wandered on to better places..?
"A while," he responded mellowly, fighting down the urge to say don't worry about me, I can keep you company until the end, I'll be fine.
She cried then, her body still pressed by the tide against his, and his soft muzzle reached out to touch her withers. There, his breath pooled against her cold skin, and he said no more as his teeth lightly massaged her. He knew there were no words to combat the void; no spells to bind and banish the demons. There was only his flesh and his spirit, his heart and his breath, breathing love and compassion against her clammy skin—there was only the silent promise that he would be there, no matter what happened.
It was not until a mortal would have died that he had realized how much life truly meant to him—and how final death was. It was not until Tembovu's horn had cut to his heart that he had known the difference between wanting to die and simply not wanting to be alive.
They might seem one and the same, but there's a world of difference between them.
She looked up again, spoke, trapped in her make-believe land of how perfect the world would be without her—and at how at peace she would be, without her failures weighting her down like much-too-heavy anchors in a stormy, deep sea. "I will miss you," he rumbled quietly, hoping his words could keep her there longer, bind her to the life she sought to discard, when he suspected it was her pain she wanted to shake off.
And if he told her that he had lived a lifetime hating himself, and wanting nothing more than to redeem himself and relieve himself of the soul-devouring agony, would she stay..? Would she remain in the sun, with him, with her daughter, if she knew there was a way to both live and yet hate herself, and all that she had done? And never find herself worthy in her own eyes..?
The greatest curse was still feeling, and she proved it by kissing his cheek, and it brought the bitter, salt-laced tears to his eyes. Don't do this, he wanted to yell at her; to grab her by the poll and shake her until the sense rattled back into place. You still love me, you'll miss me, you still have things to live for, don't you see? But no words passed his lips as she turned from him, and when she moved, he followed, and not even the urgent splashing coming from behind them could tears his ears and eyes from her.
Someone called her name behind him. Someone else who cared—but it didn't matter. You could have an army who cared and made it their duty to love you and cherish you and treasure you, but it would never be enough as long as the other, untreated wounds gaped raw and open and black as the abyss.
"I do not think you truly want to die," her shadow said gently. "I think you simply wish to not be alive—I think you want something to relieve you of this pain. Catharsis." The splashing grew louder and louder, but still Mauja did not look at the second hero in shining armor come to save the maiden fair from a dragon none of them could slay—for the beast lived next to her heart. "And in the moment death grasps you and you know you cannot come free, you will know you want to live."
He didn't get further. Tilney shot past them both, the waves lapping high against his sides, dark stains on his chestnut coat. A heavy green cloak laid against his back, water-soaked. And he spoke, said don't give in, but Mauja held his tongue. The Moon Doctor went on, stood directly in her path, and Mauja touched the ice of his magic; if she went under, could he trap her with the ice, hold her in place, keep her from drifting away, beyond his reach..?
To live or to die was still her choice, but if she chose to leave life and would come to regret it—could he live with himself if he hadn't saved her..?
Tilney finished his plea, tried to use her daughter as leverage against her, and into the silence his words left Mauja simply said, "this is the darkest hour. There will be light again."
12-25-2016, 03:55 PM (This post was last modified: 12-25-2016, 03:57 PM by Myrrine.)
Myrrine
His lips were upon her shoulders and it felt so good to have contact again. To feel the love and compassion he exuded in the tender movements of his teeth into her wet, speckled skin. How she wanted to stay in this moment forever, to let him take her away back to her old home the Edge; where she could spend her days with him and watch Laume grow like she should have done from the beginning. That would be the perfect happy ending wouldn't it? To feel like she had a family, a sense of belonging that she had craved her entire life. So with a tender stroking of her muzzle did she caress his neck, closing her eyes and taking in everything that was Mauja. She would remember his scent, the musk of a man lost in his own thoughts for years, and she would remember the deep grumble of his voice that he barely used in her presence. The way he would keep his thoughts simple and to the point, how his eyes of blue would look into her but not always see her; like he was in his own little lost land. This was the man she would remember, would think about as her eyes closed and the air would begin to seep away from her lungs only to be replaced with salty brine.
"I will miss you."
Oh how she nearly broke then and there, because it sounded like he truly meant it. He was really there for her through everything, and here he was again to see her make the biggest decision of her life. Was... was this what being a parent was supposed to be like? To see them through thick and thin and let yourself feel anguish just because you wanted them to learn about life in their own way? Were you supposed to hate yourself because you were worried that what you were doing was wrong for them? And then were you supposed to act on it, or did you have to stand on the side lines and simply watch them make the same mistakes they did? Wasn't that what Mauja had been doing this entire time?
So focused in this thought she did not notice her name being called, she could only focus on him as his words laced her ears and tenderly kissed their insides, coaxing her to turn to him and watch with suddenly wide and scared eyes. He spoke as if this was something he was extremely familiar with, as if this was not his first rodeo with mortality. So as his words washed over her like a balm, one that filled her with guilt and uncertainties, she took another step towards him; to look into his eyes and study him silently before whispering in a hoarse voice,"How do you know? It hurts so much Mauja... do you know how to make it stop? I just want to make all the pain go away and I can't and there's nothing that has been fixing it. This surely could be the only answer. Not to mention the justice that Laume deserves."
"She needs a real family. Not a young whore of a mother who laid with a man because he made her feel special and pretty. Not a dead father who was pushed away so that he couldn't even see her before he was found battered and bleeding by his almost lover," she was gasping now, sobbing and trying to keep herself afloat figuratively and literally as the waves began to grow harsher. It wasn't until the familiar man was nearly in her face did she finally notice him; and with an abrupt squeak she jerk backed, watching him warily as he rambled on about what she was doing. How selfish she was being.
Then she was suddenly angry, filled with so much fury and dare she say hatred for this man who spat in her wounds then had the gall to turn around and try and save her. He may have thought her offers of shelter and friendship were a lie, yet then who was he to talk to her so condescendingly with such venom and hate for what she did, then turn around and act as if he actually wanted her here. Her blood was boiling, her teeth sudden gnashing as she faced him with squared shoulders, shaking from her crying and the newfound fury to this man.
"I'm sorry, weren't you the one who pointed out how I had left my daughter starving? How you slaved hours over her to heal her and arranged for a foster mother because of my incompetence? Surely you're not stupid enough to come back and act as if you care?" her words slipped out like venom, eyes cold as ice and teeth bared in a defensive stance. Instinctively her body moved to Mauja, to press into his skin and seek comfort and familiarity in his presence because again she felt she was being attacked in the worst way possible. She found no comfort in his words, in his musings, because she believed them to all be filled with false worries. He was here to satiate his own guilt, because who wouldn't feel bad if they drove someone over to end it all? Her eyes were watering, and she looked to Mauja for help, for some sort of release from this man who had shattered her soul in two so many days ago.
If anyone had asked her what had pushed her over the edge to do this, she would answer with one word: Tilney. So there stood her reason of wanting to end it all, the thing that made her finally see that she really wasn't good for anything. Trying to take back all the hateful words and anguish he brought upon her soul because he wanted to make himself feel better. Shutting her eyes tightly she tried to keep her breathing even, to keep away the panic and fear that was clawing at her chest and wanting to be freed. She tried to remain grounded, focusing on the crashing of the waves, the feel of her side against Mauja's, all until she could finally look back into this brown man's eyes and continue in a wavered tone,"I cannot abandon someone again who does not want me to stay Tilney. I met her again, I tried to apologize, I promised to care for her and love her like a mother should and she walked. Away."
The tears kept falling, her eyes shifting from the antlered man and to her beloved companion, searching his face before pressing her muzzle into his shoulder. She sniffled, whimpering as she didn't want to give this man the satisfaction of more guilty tears, and beneath it all she began to murmur so only the spotted unicorn could hear,"L-Let's just go... I don't wan-" Those were the last things she said to him before being swept away by the sudden current. It had come so unexpectedly, curling around her two right legs, and in her surprise she had buckled and beneath the waves she went. In her panic and surprised she screamed, it only hitting the air for a moment as before water capped over her inky lips and water began to seep in. Having just about to gasp in air before being pulled under, all Myrrine got was salt water that filled her lungs to the brim. Hazel eyes wide and burning from the salt and panic she tried to cough it out, to scream again but it wouldn't come out and this wasn't how she was supposed to let it end. She had wanted it on her own terms yet the Gods had taken that from her too and she didn't even get to say goodbye to Mauja and-
Everything went black before she could finish that thought.
"Talk."
the butterfly is proof that great darkness can create great beauty
The words of the Emissary had been so painfully true that it caused Tilney to stirr into a halt, green gaze emiptily watching the butterfly for a wingbeat more of life, of purity before she might take the step to pierce the veil. There was one flaw, one irritaing piece to Maujas words that had grated against Tilneys ears like a knife's blade. What if he was wrong? Here one man stood daring her to venture forth without an apparatus or parachute because, by his calculations and his only, she would turn back. Yet another had come to object and to beg, to plead for her life not only because he wished for her daughters wellbeing, but he wished for his own peace of mind knowing that it was his own tongue who had guided her to this pit of despair. What an unfortunate team they were.
The butterfly's words came next as a hiss and as boom, the brontide of her incapacitated state showing easily in her words, in the tenor and fibre of her voice, and the discombobulation in her countenance. Myrinne was already half-gone and solivagant while Tilney and all his meaningless susurrations stood alloweing the tide to carry his mane, the clams he'd collected and parts of his cloak away - he wished he could follow, melt beneath and that this could somehow not be happening. What words of comfort could he give her? Was there anything in the universe that she would not warp to make herself a victim furthermore and himself more of a perpetrator? The facts were that he had run out into this freezing sea to save her - was that not enough to illustrate whether he cared even a little if she perished or not? If he didn't, surely he'd just allow her to drown. With a snort, Tilney could only stomp his hoof under the water at her childish and hysterical response. "You selfish girl. You continue to act as a victim, and to what? My scrutiny of your non-existant parenting skills? Laume is the victim, your victim. This would be but another crime against her"
"Remember Myrinne that it was you who abandoned her and it was I who rescued her. Do you think I should rejoice in the inferiority of your actions, or tell you the sheer reality of them so you might atone to your transgressions!? Now here you stand, and I cannot tell if it's water you wade in or self-pity" With a gruff, angered growl the ginger one stiffened his spine and built himself larger than the rising waves. "By the four, think of Laume and not your shameless self and step away from the tides" was his final snort, cranuim shaking with dissapointment. He began to wonder if after all this she even intended to end her life or if she just intended to swim in the attention she had gathered.
But the current; the ravenous waves had built itself into quite a masterpiece with notes of ruin and death composing its jagged structure. One by one their teeth and cold claws gripped at Tilneys own hooves and turned them away form the sand just as she spoke, asking to leave. The unicorn was thrown under the water, his cloak covering his face as he thrashed in the abyss. Tilneys worst nightmare, once again, was coming to life. He knew well the wraith that dwelled in the water, he knew had met her once before. Drowning was such an awful way to die.
It was when she crashed upon another body, one she soon found to be Maujas that his hooves once again found the dunes below. Gasping, spluttering through a salt-raped throat the stag frantically looked around the bay for the butterfly, green eyes taking eons to adjust to the sting and phosphenes that came with brine contact. There! A single glint of paper white and black on the horizon. Doing his best to crash through the waves, Tilney paddled to the wreck. With a curse the stag ducked hi antlers under her lifeless head and began to cart her in the direction of the shore, all the while asking mother moon for her blessing. "Help Mauja!" The flaxen man cried upon reaching the shore, trying to scoop the womans body up onto the sand. Concentration was near impossible to find in this moment with the inneffable emotion almost too much to comprehend, however not a few moments passed until Tilney was able to conjure the seeping, liquid-like smoke from under Myrinnes cold body. The smoke entered her nose and filled her lungs, touched her brain and her scrapes and cuts. Tilney only prayed she was free from death's grip thus far, otherwise there was no hope.
ooc; so sorry it took me so long, I was trying to figure out how Tilney would respond! He wasn't going ot be like "haha lol ok dye den u can drown" @Myrrine@Mauja
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