"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.
12-19-2016, 08:40 PM (This post was last modified: 12-19-2016, 08:41 PM by December.)
DECEMBER
& this is Carl
It had taken some time to finally find Miykael, but when she had she had informed him of her new friend and for her need of healing, and had convinced him to come with her to finally meet Sheba in the secret grove. It had been mostly mild for the last couple of days, and so she could only hoped the older mare had found warmth beneath their old shelter from the cooler nights. Had the bedding they found before leaving last night sufficed? It would probably need to be changed again, which she would do while her mate tended to the unicorn's bed sores. Yes, they would make sure Sheba was nice and settled here in this little secluded spot until Birdsong finally came. December's affinity for the snow was slowly beginning to ebb, if only for the fact that bad things often happened to her and her family when it came around, and how it affected her newfound companion.
Though she would always cherish the icy feel it left on her coat whenever she rolled in it, she would not longer eagerly await its arrival each year. Not when it hindered a lot of people from doing a lot of things. Snorting, feathered limbs carried themselves gracefully through the thick hills of snow, Carl safely tucked away back in their usual sleeping spot. Knowing how much Sheba didn't really take to the beast, she had insisted he stayed home. He hadn't been too happy about that, but she had won the battle, meaning it was only herself and Miykael most likely trailing behind her as she finally found the small enclosed area. The snow blocked out most of the smells, meaning she didn't know if Sheba had actually been staying here. She had promised she would, but did she mean it? Had she been humoring the mare to send her on her merry way?
Anxiety began to build within her chest, eyes growing wider with mild concern, as her nostrils flared in any attempt to find her scent caught in the breeze. She supposed she would need to peek in and look. She was gentle in her footing, quiet and non-abrasive, so as not to disturb the mare should she actually be sleeping or resting, and with ears pricked and eyes alert; she entered the enclosure. As she was walking, she called out softly, voice low as she searched for her friend,"Sheba, I've brought my mate as promised. Are you around? I was thinking we could change your bedding as well, I'm sure that's overdue." Instead of venturing further, she simply waited at the entrance, not wanting to intrude should the crone not want her to. She only prayed that she hadn't broken her promise to the ivory lass.
@Sheba - Rottie is super busy right now but said she would respond at some point, so I figured you could post first and then when she can Miykael will come in!
Sheba another ticking bomb to bury deep and detonate
Though she had strayed from the Secret Grove since December had left in search of the promised healer, Sheba had never gone far. Aside from the occasional trip to the Thistle Meadow in search of food, the deep snow had prevented her from any longer journey, and so she remained a constant fixture of the place, alternately grazing and dozing amongst the willows. The days were long and the nights were cold, but what really set her to shivering were those thoughts of the giantess. She had no doubt that the large mare would return—for though she could not understand it, Sheba had more than enough evidence to support the idea that December derived some odd pleasure from helping others—and if she wanted to play the Good Samaritan, then all the better for the crone.
However, what she could not comprehend was the other mare’s interest in her. In her days, she had encountered enough of those savior-complex types…but why would December choose to help her? Sheba knew that she wasn’t pleasant in any sense of the word. She was about as physically appealing as an old mule, she smelled like the bottom of a pond, and she had been abrasive enough to drive almost every stranger who had come across her away. Why hadn’t December chosen someone more…conventional as her pet project? Someone who’d ooze gratitude, who’d look at her with those big shiny lamb eyes that those so-called selfless angels were always after, someone easier to love? Sheba couldn’t understand the logic in it, and the irrationality both fascinated and frightened her. And so, while she was by no means a creature of her word (and given the snow, had little choice to boot), the old mare had lingered about the grove, waiting for December. If only to see what this was all about, she told herself as she settled into the nest of dry grasses that the giantess had left for her.
• • • •
She was dozing when her Samaritan returned, tucked beneath a willow at the center of a thick cluster. A light sleeper, she stirred when December called out, heaving herself to her hooves with great effort. Though her frame was naturally slight, made lighter still by Frostfall’s scarcity, a series of arthritic pops and clicks made it difficult for her to move anywhere quickly. A tremor rippled across her patchy coat, shedding the stray grass stalks as if they were pesky flies, and she peered out from behind the fronds at the great gray mare who had re-entered the clearing.
“So you’re back,” she commented hoarsely, stepping out from beneath the trees. “I hope you weren’t worried about little old me.”
"speech"
Image Credits || original coding by Tamme; modified by Shady
December didn't think of herself as a "Good Samaritan" or fixer upper, she only helped those she felt needed it, and whether Sheba liked it or not; she needed help. If anyone asked her why she had chosen to befriend and help the old unicorn, she honestly probably wouldn't be able to come up with an answer. She wasn't looking for gratitude or anything in return, in fact she still didn't understand entirely what had drawn her to the grumpy mare. She had been gruff and unwelcoming, disinterested in what she mostly had to say, and had most likely only used her to keep herself warm in the storm they had faced together. Despite all of this, December still found her to be interesting. She felt drawn to her because she had been alone, had pushed herself away from the world just because she seemed to not appreciate who she was now. This was enough for December to come back, to look for her and show her that she was worth something after all.
The way she was alone, left to her own devices and pushing everyone away, had that not been December two years ago? She had met many in Helovia, and nearly all of them she had pushed away with her aloof and disinterest in conversation. She had shoved them aside because talking and making friends was meaningless, what did that accomplish for one's survival? It offered nothing. It was a means of passing time while everyone waited for the inevitable of death. December felt there were better things to do to pass the time. Until Miykael had come along. She had literally stumbled upon him one day in the cold, and through a shared moment of awkwardness they had connected, and from that day forward she began to toy with the thought of having someone else in her life.
Two years and one child later, Miykael was still the man she cherished the most. He was her light in the darkest hour, the shelter from the rain, and she didn't regret anything that happened between them. He was her rock as she was his, and even through her bouts of anger and irritation, through her irrational mood swings and overbearing nature towards their daughter, he had stayed with her, and loved her for who she was. He had been her Good Samaritan, and although the reason he was still with her was not because he felt it would fix her, he had mended her broken and tarnished soul and made her whole again. She would always be grateful for that.
Although not everyone may not feel that way, December understood where Sheba was coming from, saw the similarities between the mare and her past self so clearly that it almost hurt. It made her remember the nights where she was faced with nothing but herself to rely on, and even though she would have never admitted it then, now she knew just how painful it was. She would never wish that on someone, not even her worst enemy. So maybe December was trying to fix her a little bit, but only because she knew what would happen if no one else did. Not to mention, she couldn't help but enjoy and admire her no-nonsense bitchy attitude. She connected to that on a deeper level as well.
With a quiet snort, her ears pricked in the direction towards the hag, silver eyes glancing over her briefly before turning to acknowledge her. She would have offered her muzzle in greeting, though knowing Sheba, she most likely would have denied it, and thus only pricked her ears in her direction casually, waiting for her to finish before responding in her dull tones,"There isn't much to worry about around here. Though knowing you should Death come knocking I would imagine you would spit in his face and kick him in his loins. Or am I incorrect in my assumption?" Her brown naturally quirked, a ghost of a smirk on ashen lips as she took a step towards her, eyeing her up and down before speaking clearly,"I take it you've found something to eat around here. Birdsong will come soon so you can escape this hell. Why you would choose the place where lovers come to fornicate is beyond me, but everyone has their own reasons." Would she be able to recognize the dry sarcasm dripping from her words? Or would she brush over them as everyone else did when she tried to speak in jest. Very few could ever tell the difference.
"He should be here soon. He often takes his time with things," as she spoke she turned to look behind her, eyes searching for the familiar splashes of white and yellow that marked her beloved. Short tail swished lazily at her hips, and before she could stop herself she huffed, shaking her head to loosen her neck before lowering it into the snow to embrace the cold. She savored the way it tickled her nostrils as she dug in search of foliage, how it sent minor shivers down her spine and left her feeling invigorated as the cold always did. Maybe she still loved the snow a little too much. Only time would tell. So with an air of impatience, she turned back to her companion, waiting patiently for her to say something as she always did. If she chose not to though, they would sit in silence, most likely to wait until her tardy man would finally make his appearance.
Our chief want is someone who will inspire us to be what we know we could be
Of course he agreed to help. To be fair, his acceptance had little to do with the one doing the asking and more to do with the news of someone in need. This was, after all, his newly found plan for his life now that he was confidently unattached to a herd. He isn't built for herd life. He isn't designed to mesh with their ideas of who should be helped and who shouldn't because in his mind, there are no wounds that should be left to fester. Anyone can harm, any good person can falter - even he - but sometimes responding to negativity with kindness is enough to penetrate the hardened, angry shell to reveal the good hiding beneath. There are always exceptions, of course, and those that have given him reason to question his own beliefs but he holds steadfast to his ideals. Clinging to them with the hope of perhaps, someday, healing the world. And that is precisely why he left the Falls - slipping soundlessly away to remove the shackles restricting his loyalty.
Though, to be fair, December didn't seem all that happy there either.
Perhaps they were both better suited to life on their own.
It came as little surprise when December approached him with information of a wounded older mare requiring his healing assistance. She knew of his penchant for helping others. She knew he'd help in every way that he can, no questions asked. Miykael readily agreed, sending Eliana with December on the promise that he would arrive as soon as he could. It was best for December to return to the mare quickly, given the circumstances. Although Miykael had every intention of hastening after the curvy grey mare, he somehow managed to get sidetracked by other healing business. By the time he realized his mistake, however, several minutes had already slipped by.
With a gentle snort, he reaches out for Eliana's mind - reassurance in his tone. 'I'm on my way. Where are you?' he asks, his mental voice betraying none of his urgency. The zephyr does not hesitate to respond. Secret grove, she replies dryly, a hint of irritation in her voice. why you not come WITH us? she adds and then he could practically feel the dramatic eye-roll that likely followed suit. Eliana had taken a turn for the surly as of late, her words so often laced with (nearly palpable) sarcasm. But rather than reprimanding her or demanding better behavior, the stallion merely takes off running and with several hard flaps of his massive wings, he launches himself into the air - he would, no doubt, cover ground more quickly above the trees.
Miykael soars to the secret grove with all the grace and ease he can muster while attempting to make up lost time. Once the grove is in sight, he shifts his course to land in a clearing nearby. His landing is somehow gentle and easy, a feat that frequently only comes with lots of practice. The healer tucks his large white wings and turns to head into the trees surrounding the secret grove. With Eliana's guidance, it doesn't take him long to locate December and once he does he approaches quickly. Miykael has to fight the urge to shower her in affection but knowing why he is here is enough to keep him focused on the task at hand. Standing beside December, his blue gaze rather quickly found the wounded mare and suddenly he is taken aback. He's met this old mare once before. He and Alysanne had stumbled upon her one Frostfall and between the two of them, she didn't stand a chance to be left alone to die. Miykael and Alysanne are completely alike in that regard - stubborn healers that they are. He could still remember the one statement she'd made that really stood out: 'Don’t bother, cherie. What I’ve got, you can’t cure. Only old Fireball can.' Miykael didn't understand it then and he certainly didn't have any better idea now. "I...uh..." he pauses, finding it difficult to form any words, "pardon my manners. I'm Miykael, a healer. How may I be of assistance?" Miykael does his best to remain formal - this is simply business for him, after all - but he's never had a very good poker face so he's likely going to be answering a barrage of questions in mere moments.
Sheba another ticking bomb to bury deep and detonate
December snorted, but it was not the sort to betray any sort of emotion. Frankly, the old mare didn’t even suspect the gesture to imply any feeling. The giantess was likely only clearing air from her lungs, for that was what Sheba had summed her up to be: straightforward, as close as any creature can get to honest, and practical, if not rather dull. Despite her lingering doubts about the mare’s motivations, however, Sheba did not fear that the draft would bring her harm. December wanted her well, that was clear enough—it was just the matter of why that eluded her.
“Pah. I rather think you give an old woman too much credit,” Sheba replied dismissively, but she smiled grimly all the same at the image that December’s unexpected humor had conjured. The larger mare moved a step towards her, and stiffly she did likewise, so as to better converse with the giantess. She felt December’s eyes studying her, probably checking for signs of how her patient had fared in her absence. Sheba let her. As far as she was concerned, it was neither here nor there: she felt no better and no worse. Surely, she would have liked the cozy darkness of her cave again, or at the very least, a decent meal, but the old mare knew that neither would restore to her what she once had possessed. How much farther was there to fall from grace?
But December said nothing about her condition, merely commented on the coming season and her peculiar choice of winter residence. “Beggars can’t be choosers,” Sheba returned wanly, shrugging slightly as she looked around the grove. The deep snow hadn’t given her many options, but at least the barrier that kept her in seemed to have kept most amorous couples out. As if the thought had reminded her of her of her own mate, December turned. Behind her, Sheba craned her neck. “He should be here soon,” the draft rumbled, adding as if an afterthought, “He often takes his time with things.”
I hope for your sake he does, the old mare thought rather lewdly, wondering exactly what the giantess’ mate would be like. She pictured another like her companion: slow, lumbering, simple, not at all refined…but gentle, with serious eyes and a voice like thunder. Likely someone steady would suit December, Sheba mused, sizing her up, someone perhaps not overly affectionate but attentive to his lover: a good man, as they liked to say. Not that she had ever known one, but she got the feeling that the giantess would not tolerate the arrogant nonsense that most stallions seemed prone to.
“Well I’m certainly not going anywhere,” was all she said, with only a touch of sarcasm. Let him come now, later or never. What difference would it make? So they stood in silence together, breath coming in warm puffs against the cold air, waiting for December’s love.
Needless to say, when he did make his appearance, it was not at all what Sheba had been expecting. No drafty counterpart with gravelly voice revealed himself, but instead the buttermilk-colored pegasus from many seasons ago came trooping through the willows. Sheba recognized him instantly, and guessed that he had done the same, for while he made no mention of their prior meeting, his expression and stammering introduction seemed to betray as much.
She, however, was not so tactful.
”Oh, it’s you again,” Sheba muttered distastefully, casting a nearly woeful expression at December, as if this was all her fault. “And what, may I ask, have you got in store for me today? Fat lot of good you did last time—take a couple of years to think it over?”
Apparently December’s luck with men was no better than hers after all.
"speech"
Image Credits || original coding by Tamme; modified by Shady
@December @Miykael
hello hi I'm so sorry I'm super late--school'n'stuff D:
She noticed the bird before she had noticed her beloved. A tender dip of her head to the zephyr she looked past her, focused as she spoke," He's here." Her tail swished, and she restrained herself from running to him there and letting her body press against his; because it had been too long since she's even seen him. As he broke through the trees her expression softened; eyes filled with the love she held for him and the smallest of tender smiles graced her lips. It was hard to keep a front up with him; not when he had seen her at her most low, and so she let the wall slip away for only a moment as he closed the distance and only spared her a brief glance. She assumed it was because he was attempting to keep a professional air, but right now she didn't care about that, because when was Sheba ever professional?
She moved with a calm grace, lumbering to him and letting her nose reach his shoulder tenderly. She only took a moment to enjoy his sent; before closing her eyes and smiling into his skin. He was the comfort she had been missing these past couple of weeks that she needed back into her life. Pulling away to stare up at him she kept the soft expression; though the smile had left to leave a relaxed line along her lips. She could be more intimate later, not when they had other matters to attend to. Turning herself so that she was barely touching his side she faced the older mare once again, her face soon morphing back into its usual expression as she prepared to make introductions. However, Miykael beat her to it; and based on his stuttering he must have known her.
Eyes narrowing in his direction she listened, about to speak again but of course; Sheba needed to make her point. As soon as her words laced the soft lining of her ears she blinked, before turning to her painted mate and commenting," I see you've made an impression." Looking back at the mare she approached her, looking over at her bedsores and her revealed ribs, before speaking in her normal stoic tone,"He is capable of handling a few bedsores; then myself and him can make you another bed beneath the shelter to keep you warm. If you don't trust him then put your trust in me when I say he is reliable. Should that hold any weight." Again with her insecurities, assuming that she was not welcomed or accepted by anyone, even those she had tried to help. A quick glance to Miykael was the only reveal of this, before her expression hardened once again. She could only hope, to mentally plead with her love that he wouldn't ruin this for her, that he would make this woman push her away like everyone else did.
Our chief want is someone who will inspire us to be what we know we could be
Miykael didn't exactly know what he was getting himself into but as soon as he arrived he realized just how big of a shit storm he was walking into. Of course he'd recognized the old mare, she isn't exactly easy to forget though he wished it were for positive reasons. Usually, Miykael sees the best in everyone, even those that have wronged in the past, but this mare... he has yet to find the good in her. He isn't about to give up, not yet, but the future looks rather bleak. So he is rather glad when December moves closer to him, touching him tenderly (placing a temporary pause on the professional air of the moment). Curving in towards her ever-so-slightly, he presses the side of his face against her neck - enjoying the loving embrace for as long as it lasted.
And suddenly, the events of two years ago are entirely his fault. Of course. He is the male, after all. Doesn't that make nearly everything his fault? It didn't matter that Alysanne was there as well. It didn't matter that he and Alysanne had to full-on beg the old mare to let them help. A simple, cursory glance tells him that, despite the passage of two years, the mare didn't seem any worse off now than she did before. She's old, skinny, somewhat physically frail - everything was the same as far as he could remember, even her prickly demeanor hadn't softened over the years. This did not surprise him in the least, though it certainly helped to explain the lack of change in her current condition. His blue gaze doesn't miss the expression she nearly throws at December or the bitterness of her tone but he doesn't allow any of it to penetrate his skin.
It just rolls right off, dripping like rain.
Miykael, normally jubilant in many ways, is oddly cold and stoic as he stands beside December. His blue eyes regarding the old mare with a certain level of ice. "I see you haven't convinced old 'Fireball' to fix you yet." he comments dryly, remembering rather distinctly her mention of the God of the Sun. "Perhaps the reason lies within you." As she spits words at him, he spits them right back. There is no sense in treating her with gentleness - he'd tried that route with her before and it hadn't ended well. When she speaks of their prior meeting, she unfortunately strikes a bit of a nerve. His ears flick backwards for a few moments but he keeps the fire contained. "I rather distinctly remember my friend Alysanne being there as well. Do not lay the blame entirely on my shoulders." Miykael's words are stern and strong - a father reprimanding a stubborn child. "This is what you do, isn't it? You simply push away anyone that's willing to help you. And for what? What is it that you're afraid of?" His eyes are hard, like ice, as he practically stares her down.
Part of him wanted to walk off, to turn away and make her beg for him to help her but he knew that would never happen. The old mare is too stubborn to beg, too bitter to ask for help. If he walked away now, he'd only be causing more harm - something he'd vowed to never let happen. With an exasperated sigh, the golden angel gave one last firm glance into the old mare's eyes before stepping forward to look more closely at her sores. "If you must know, I have healing magic now. A gift from the Sun God, himself." The last part causes a slight grin to curve his lips. He shifts to circle around her just once at a walking speed, careful to remain out of reach of her hooves. Once he's back in front of her, he attempts to meet her gaze. "But I don't heal anyone, unless I'm asked....nicely." If he'd been human, one eyebrow would have been raised in some sort of unspoken challenge.
02-14-2017, 03:11 AM (This post was last modified: 02-14-2017, 03:18 AM by Sheba.)
Sheba another ticking bomb to bury deep and detonate
Rather pleased with herself at the mild witticism, Sheba awaited what was sure to be the buckskin pegasus’ stuttering reply. Though their meeting before had been brief, she remembered having the distinct impression that he and his bleeding-heart friend had a pair of the worst savior complexes that she’d yet to encounter. Of course that had been to her benefit at the time, as they’d found her literally sprawled in the mud and left to rot, but her sharp judgment played no favorites and she’d held it against them all the same. Thus, she found herself genuinely surprised at Miykael’s less-than-gentle reply—perhaps she hadn’t changed in two years, but maybe he had grown a backbone.
“Fireball’s been a little scarce around these parts,” the crone replied disparagingly, a raised brow the only sign that she had noted his tone. “Fancy that—someone who’s even better at disappearing than you,” Sheba went on with a derisive smirk, “why, I hadn’t thought it possible!” As for his speculations on her condition, she ignored them without much thought. What did he know about where the answer lay? She wouldn’t deign to reply to such presumption.
However, she couldn’t contain her laugher at his next comment. Tone growing decidedly defensive, he bade her recall that his blundering rescue mission hadn’t been a solo act: his friend Alysanne had been there too, he distinctly remembered. “And there I had made you out to be a gentleman,” she crooned, rheumy eyes blinking in merriment, “but it’s hardly proper etiquette to blame a lady, much less one who isn’t here.” She cast him a glance of mock reproach, wondering if the giantess was one to put up with this blubbering. The no-nonsense mare didn’t seem like the type, but then again, she supposed, they all had their weaknesses.
But it seemed that she had reached the limit of Miykael’s patience, for when her eyes found his, they were decidedly steely. “This is what you do, isn’t it?” the buckskin asked, “You simply push away anyone that’s willing to help you.” Out of consideration for December (who had been forced to stand there during the heated exchange), she spared him an eye-roll and a comment on how well he seemed to know her after years of friendship, settling instead for an expression of vague annoyance and pained tolerance towards the giantess’ mate. Anyway, the accusation was entirely unfounded—just because she hadn’t begged him to save her sorry hide two years ago didn’t make his insecurity her problem. December was here, wasn’t she? Try again, Good Doctor.
And yet…he rallied.
“What are you afraid of?”
Until this point, Sheba had been eyeing him serenely, waiting for him to finish his lecture in time for her to deliver another sarcastic quip, but at the challenge she recoiled as if she had been slapped. Though she might have been many things: deformed, unpleasant, repugnant even, to accuse her of fear was the worst insult he could have possibly hurled at her. “I am no coward,” she hissed, ears pinned and December momentarily forgotten. “I am not afraid of ugliness, I am not afraid of loneliness, I am not afraid of even death--regardez-moi!” the crone growled, gesturing to her emaciated shell. “Perhaps you are the one who lives in fear, because without those who need you, you are nothing,” she breathed, eyes wild and sides heaving slightly despite not having moved an inch from where she stood, “I don’t need anyone, and I am not weak.”
He had begun to move forward to inspect her sores before her outburst, but she flinched away, teeth bared in warning. Angry gaze moving past him, she finally addressed December. “I will not hold him against you,” she murmured, voice low and tightly controlled, “but I will not stand for this. If you wish to find me, return alone.”
And stiffly, with as much dignity as she could muster after so uncharacteristic an outburst, she turned and made to disappear under the curtain of the nearest willow.
"speech"
OOC: I'm sorry, I'm sorry--I feel like the mother dragging her screaming toddler off of the other kid at the daycare. She's not 100% out if you want to try and stop her/yell at her/whatever (doesn't move very fast), just heading that way.
Image Credits || original coding by Tamme; modified by Shady
02-14-2017, 03:46 AM (This post was last modified: 03-04-2017, 02:25 AM by December.
Edit Reason: Adding item given to Sheba
)
DECEMBER
& this is Carl
December could handle a lot of things. She had nearly frozen over dozens of times like it had been nothing, had been rejected by a foal who thought her as a monster, and lost her child to unknown causes for no reason. She had remained calm, like a rock in a crashing storm, standing tall and firm like nothing could break her. She had held a certain grace and poise that a woman of her stature could, and she could probably still be honest with herself and say she was happy. But what she couldn't handle, this was something she was just realizing now, was the two people she care for at this moment fighting.
The first thing to take her back was the fact that Miykael was talking in such a way to anyone. She had only heard sweet nothings and kind pleasantries from his maw until now, so to see his eyes hard as ice and his stance so defensive so utterly dumbfounded. She didn't think their history was something that intense. Her eyes immediately switched to Sheba, who with her silver tongue was quick to lash back at him with her own barbed words. Like a ping pong table they went back and forth, and December's eyes followed until she thought she might grow dizzy. She didn't know it would end until Miykael's words seemed to strike a nerve,"What is it that you're afraid of?"
And like a wound up coil Sheba snapped, lunging forward with a malice December expected yet didn't expect from the crone. Her words hurt, not only for most likely Miykael, but for also the ivory lass who had been thrown into the middle of this. Her words had the potential to hold some truth; did Miykael feel like nothing without something to care for. If that was the case, is that why he was still with December? Because she was so broken beyond repair, and his love had been the glue that pieced her together? She mentally chided herself for thinking such an awful thing about her beloved. Instead she met the woman's eyes as she spoke to her, as she began to walk away December was quick to follow, easily catching up and stepping in front of her path.
"Sheba," she spoke calmly, steel eyes boring into her own brown. She said nothing afterwards, waiting only for the mare's acknowledgement, before she suddenly walked forward, attempting to press her chest to the woman's and to rest her neck over her withers. She closed her eyes, holding their embrace for a few moments, only reopening them to look at Miykael behind them before taking a step back. As she studied the hag for a reaction, an idea came to her mind. With a look asking for one moment, December slowly turned her head, searching in her knotted mane for something deeply hidden. She had kept this just for the sake of it, seeing no need for it, but realized now it would be the best thing for this situation.
When she managed to pull the trinket free from her tresses, she slowly turned her massive skull to reveal her find to Sheba. Between her ashen lips lay a charm, it a sweet pastel pink that glimmered in the sunshine, the flower in full bloom and seeming to be entirely alive. She looked to the mare gently, eyes suddenly softer, before slowly placing the trinket beside one of the many baubles stuck in her mane. When she parted, her eyes flicked back to hers, and for once a kind smile was displayed on her features. It was genuine, filled with much warmth as she simply stated,"I am here for you should you ever need me."
Our chief want is someone who will inspire us to be what we know we could be
Every bit of fire she spits at him, he spits it right back.
And the entire situation merely escalates, as could easily have been predicted. Miykael didn't usually fight fire with fire. He isn't known for being anything other than caring and polite (except the wraith incident but that's another story). Neither of them had the capability to read minds (at least, he didn't believe she could) and yet they both made presumptions about the other. Maybe some were true, or at least partially true, but for the most part their presumptions were likely wrong. He'd met her once. She'd been resistant to accepting his and Alysanne's help but she did eventually cave; despite her wish for them to just leave her alone. What happened after that was rather foggy. He remembers trying to help her up to her feet to get her out of the mud and slush but after that the memory fades. What he cannot fathom, however, is how he somehow failed her back then. What is he at fault for? It's not as if he could reverse her aging and since she didn't seem any worse than his memory recalls - Miykael simply couldn't understand her anger.
But was it her anger and repulsive nature that irked him into behaving so differently or was it perhaps something else. Something completely out of the old mare's control. Someone maybe. It isn't farfetched to believe that Miykael is still grieving Merialeth's loss or that her loss has somehow worn down his tolerance for her attitude. Regardless of the cause, Miykael's anger cooled abruptly when the old mare recoiled from his question. He'd struck a nerve, that much was incessantly clear and were he a lesser man he would have internally rejoiced over it. Instead, he regrets his words, regrets how quickly he jumped to anger. He can't deny that she irks him, that her mere presence irritates the shit out of him but that isn't a valid excuse to treat her poorly.
Anger explodes from the old mare, the ticking time bomb erupting and spitting fire at him. She is adamant, hissing. But he can honestly say he doesn't believe her. 'I don't need anyone. And I am not weak.' she says and without missing a beat, he replies: "Whom are you trying to convince here? Me? Or... you?" But there is no heat behind his words; no anger, just compassion. There is a newfound softness to his face, a look that is far more commonplace. Needing others isn't a sign of weakness but he knew there was no point entering into that argument with her. Miykael now assumes, perhaps wrongly, that anything he says will be instantly disregarded as stupid bullshit mutterings from a 'bleeding heart', savior complex weakling. Because caring is somehow weak. Because wanting to help the wounded and sick somehow makes him less of a man.
Before he has the chance to look her over, she flinches away and bares her teeth to him. Miykael heeds the warning and stops cold in his tracks. Blue gaze watches her carefully as she begins to move away. Before he can make any move to stop the old mare from hobbling away, December is right there placing herself chest to chest with her. Exhaling softly, a sort of defeated whisper of breath, the stallion releases the tension that built up over their heated exchange. "I was unnecessarily rude and presumptuous and for that I apologize." he offers, his deep voice projecting across the empty space between them rather easily. He has little else to say so he simply falls silent. If she turns back now he'd be pleasantly surprised but he certainly wasn't about to hold his breath.
Sheba another ticking bomb to bury deep and detonate
Perhaps the worst thing about being in this body was that it robbed her of clean breaks and graceful getaways. She could not tear away dramatically, nor glide away with cold dignity--instead it took all that she had to hold her head high as she hobbled towards the willows. After a pause, she could hear December's hoofbeats behind her, but she did not turn. Sheba was not a forgiving creature by nature, and though she gained a twisted gratification from the giantess' heavy footsteps trailing her, she did not stop walking until the larger mare physically blocked her path. "Excuse me," she murmured evenly, gaze fixed firmly ahead. While there was a slight edge to her voice, she didn't dare raise it to the no-nonsense mare. When it became clear that December was not going anywhere, she pressed her lips together in displeasure but said nothing more--if she had gathered anything about the other mare, it was that she did as she pleased, and being the smaller of the pair, there was little that she could do about it. Still refusing to meet December's eyes, she flicked an ear towards her in acknowledgement and prepared for a lecture delivered in that slow and steady voice, chastising her for her temper.
But none came.
Instead, the massive chest shifted forward and before she could react, it met her own. December's neck came down over hers and held her there--gently, but firmly. An embrace. The gesture caught her so off guard that she stiffened, then went limp, too shocked to wriggle free. And then the giantess was pulling away again, and tugging a trinket from her mane, and then back her muzzle came again to fasten it in her own. "I am here for you should you ever need me," she rumbled.
For a moment more, Sheba simply stood, speechless, slowly turning her head to regard the tiny pink blossom nested amongst her grubby tangles. When she looked back to December, there was a nearly unreadable expression on her face, but the anger was gone. Instead, her features seemed to hold a question.
"Why?" Sheba asked, gaze searching for December's. For the moment, Miykael was set aside. "Why...why would you do that?"
"speech"
Image Credits || original coding by Tamme; modified by Shady
As if the only contained herself and the crone she was hyperfocused on her shocked expression. As she searched the dark eyes of her friend she waited with patience, and listened when she asked so dubiously 'why?'. She let another smile form on her smoky complexion, and after a moment she responded in a matter of fact tone,"Because that is what friends do, Sheba." Then she moved to the side, keeping enough distance to respect the mare's distance should she please as she kept eye contact. Turning so that she was able to keep both of the other figures into view she studied them silently, turning one way; and then another calmly. Even as an apology fell from Miykael's lips she had a feeling that nothing would really become of this conversation. Though the unicorn was calm right now, it didn't mean she would be once she was shaken out of her shocked stupor.
So it was with an easy gait she found herself coming up to Miykael, looking into his soft eyes and pressing to his jaw tenderly,"We should postpone this for another day. It seems not everyone is in the best mood to be interacting." Whether the accusation was directed at him or Sheba wasn't evident in her tone or expression, and with ease she glanced back at the smaller mare. Clearing her throat she let her tail swish against her supple hips, eyes staring in the back of the white one's head calmly," If you should ever need company, you will be able to find me near the North. We can tend to your sores another day, and once Birdsong comes I will aide you in returning to your home. Until then, be at ease and safe." She remained only for a moment, making sure that the two agreed before gracefully turning and making her way calmly through the trees. She found that even with everything that had gone down between herself and her two companions, she found that she still was quite fond of Sheba after all.
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