"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.
07-14-2012, 12:53 AM (This post was last modified: 08-01-2012, 08:58 PM by Knox.)
Little defective colt trudges through thick and unnaturally luscious tundra grasses, with his best friend striding slowly at his side. Manhattan walks along carrying a limp from the jungle cat's injury, and a trauma that she shan't forget for quite some time. The pair is silent and almost still as they walk. The pup is unnaturally calm and silent- perhaps it is her companion's reclusive tendencies that has made her this way. She trots uneasily and with constant trips in between his thick legs, that stand as pillars even as young as he is. He will grow to be a grand stallion, rising higher than so many others, and yet there will always be the hindrance of the mind. The voices grow louder as he lowers his head to enter one of the melting cave entrances, and Manhattan pulls herself closer to his side. Water drips steadily upon the pair like an ancient chinese torture, and with a yelp, she runs from it to hide beneath her only friend.
He is unfazed and stands stolidly beneath the broken stream. With steady blue-gray eyes he looks into the depths of the cave, which reflects with the wet of Tallsun in the land of winter, and shines with a bizarre hint of abnormality. At his heavy hooves Manhattan whines, fearful of the dark hollow of the cave, yet burdened just as equally by Tallsun's unmerciful heat. The pair are no match for the sun god's endless summer with their thick, black coats and their eyes suited to the darkness of the deep woods. He was born bathed in blood, not light.
The bridle wrapped around his neck shines a faint green and sets the cavern alight as the pair rest within it, seeming lost and out of place. Silence, interrupted only by the faint plop of a water droplet hitting the puddle covered ground, draws Manhattan from beneath his legs and out into the false shadow of the caves. She lifts her nose curiously and drops her jaw to scent the air, but is met only with the overwhelming fragrance of decay and an air of uncomfortable humidity. He stands tall despite it, his massive nostrils flaring with each shuddered breath and his eyes focused on the shadows ever still. The voices ask him why he is hiding, only to answer their own question and mock him with a twisted, deafening laughter.
The pup senses her master's fear, but has her own. He speaks with a surprisingly deep voice, repeating with some alteration one of the first phrases he ever learned. "Come, Manhattan," comes the gentle order as he turns to her scared mug. His head lowers to greet her touch, and she takes a hesitant step forward, only to slip on the slick floor. There is a yelp as her injured leg twists against the ice, and he is by her side in an instant, lifting her by the scruff and placing her upon his back. Oversized paws scramble for a grip, but with a wide back and a steady stance he supports her- she relaxes upon the realization. Slowly, she learns to trust. Slowly, he learns to love.
The little prince had been laying in the back of the caverns, given life by the melting of the arch he had so admired. Caves were usually unbearably humid and hot, but surprisingly, this one buried in the ice and the snow was cooler than the summer heat outside. Our Enki took pleasure in the cooling sensation of the air, even if the moisture in which was at times choking. It was better than him dealing with the horrible heat that had caked his body in sweat only a few days before.
The water in the air had loosened several pounds of dirt from his grotesque features, returning a hint of white to the patches that hid beneath the ground. As for his bay splotches, well, you could see that at least the hair was supposed to be brown underneath. His wings were the only one truly suffering, as the feathers were horribly weighed down in the damp environment, perhaps except for any individual that would encounter our prince. His bodily odors permeate the air around him thanks to the moisture. Standing too close to our hero at this time might result in quite the workout for your nostrils.
So, he needed a bath. That much was certain, but normally our hermit avoids contact rather well. He has no need to impress others with his flower fresh scent or charmingly handsome appearance, and therefore doesn't give two flying fucks about hygiene. Age has also worn down his care, and the sore burn that lives in his clubbed limbs are more than enough to make him avoid movement - especially movement in the direction of water. At this point, however, he may not have to make much effort to swim once submerged - the collection of twigs throughout his mane and tail would likely keep him afloat.
Our poor little prince; we should not make such fun. After all, he is about to have one of his least favorite activities take place: socialization.
The sound of a masculine voice echoes throughout the cavern walls. Slowly, like the movement of grass growing, our hero gets up from the floor, twisted limbs anchoring him awkwardly as he pulls up his body. The shuffling makes a considerable amount of noise, but only continues when he begins walking down the carvens to find this new individual.
With his good eye, our hero catches a glimpse of green, a faint glow first. As the cripple gets closer, he begins to see a face surrounded by a strange looking contraption. What in the hell was this boy wearing? Our prince stops a few paces short of these strangers, smelling the scent of dog which puts him on edge immediately. He can't really see the lump that sits on the back of this colt too well. He clears his throat, glaring out at this stranger with a lump of flesh and a fierce seafoam green eye in the darkness, past a clump of hair that sits in the middle of his face.
"I'm afraid this cave is already occupied."
""
our hearts are drunk with a beauty our eyes could never see.
Mauja the FrostHeart ice cold man watches earth die, eternal winter takes its reign
Mauja had left the heat of the Edge behind - he'd never fully leave his precious homeland, but he had no choice except to flee it at times, seeking cooler climates. Often he just went down to the Endless Blue to submerge himself in the cool waters, but sometimes not even that was enough. That was why he'd gone north, pacing east first until he reached the isthmus connecting the northern, cold land to the southern, warmer one. But the sun's rage was felt even here, for the snow wasn't cool and soft, but rather it was a muddy slush churning under his hooves, trying to suck him in and releasing him with mournful plops. It made for dangerous footing, and heavy work, but once you came up on the tundra the wind blew cold and the footing hardened somewhat. Mauja blew out a sigh. Sweat was drying on his coat, stiffening the hairs and clumping them together. He'd always considered it a mildly unpleasant sensation, but the only escape was to toss himself in the ocean, and up here it was just a tad too cool. He had no choice but to remain sweaty, and with a snort headed in the direction of the icy cave systems. Surely the air would be cooler in there.
Lush tundra grasses, more plentiful than he ever remembered them being, cushioned his hooves now, whispering softly as he passed them, a pale ghost in a northland of snow. He blinked his pale blue eyes at the surroundings, casting a brief glance at the towering mountains and the sun, piercing the sky - then he passed into shadow, the flaming star hid behind snowy peaks. The FrostHeart's eyes closed and he smiled to himself, drifting deeper, until he reached the glacier and its many strange paths. The walls dripped, water running in slow rivulets down the sides, clinging to the walls where gravity didn't tug so harshly at them. The wind which sighed through the system was moist but cool, settling heavily against him, like a blanket; he snorted, fog rising from his nostrils and dissipating near the dark ceiling. It was dark in here, and pleasantly cool, but Mauja wasn't fool enough to believe he could stay here for forever. His coat was still the thin one of summer, and once the damp settled against his skin he'd cool too fast. It could very well become dangerous. But just for a little while... The Edge King smiled in the darkness, his soft hooffalls echoing around him, bouncing on the walls and back. It was a beautiful place, this, ancient and powerful - it felt good to walk such icy halls again.
"I'm afraid this cave is already occupied."
He didn't falter in his stride, merely swiveled his ears forward, a look of curiosity upon his face. There were others here? He wondered who they were, and knew there was only one way to find out. Fortunately, they weren't far, and with all the grace of a ghost Mauja slid onto the scene, looking, as always, as if he belonged there. Perhaps he did, child of frost and snow that he was.
Once they were visible to him he halted, effectively blocking the way he'd come. His towering alabaster frame filled up the narrow corridor, but in front of him it opened up into a cave, and he guessed there were many more ways out of it. They were hardly trapped. Wintery eyes roamed across them, settling first on the one whom he guessed had spoken. It was a pegasus, utterly grotesque in conformation and utterly dirty in color. It intrigued him as much as it repulsed him, and with an intense, quiet fascination did he study him; short, lopsided, stunted. Perhaps he'd once been a bay tobiano, but now he looked like he'd rolled in glue and dust. Dirt grimed him, though it seemed the moist air had done something to clean him up. The only beautiful thing about him was his large wings - they seemed to be the only normal thing, too, no weird lumpy growths. Mauja's gaze swept on to the colt next, a thing built much like himself, but still so very young. Hornless, of course, as everything he tended to run across out here was. A black shape on its back, and the suspicious scent of canine, told him it had a companion.
Mauja didn't know what to make of it. Part of him wanted to back away and leave them be, these lowly hornless, but the other part of him was perpetually curious, and urged him to stay. In the end, he simply flickered his raven-adorned tail and settled one hind hoof on its tip. He sighed, then smiled softly, just in case anyone was looking in his direction. "Now now, what's the harm in sharing?" he asked in a smooth voice, arching one 'brow at the twisted pegasus.
07-17-2012, 08:08 PM (This post was last modified: 08-01-2012, 08:59 PM by Knox.)
Little defective colt sees two figures enter through the dim of the cave and the din of the voices. Within his skull they chant endlessly, telling him of the melting waters, informing him of his impending doom, she he choose to remain in the cave. But he is high functioning with Manhattan upon his back, and the voices slither into the pools that collect on the cave floor. He looks down into them, seeking his own reflection, and sees instead the broken image of blood on the forest floor. He recalls his baptism and the taste once more floods into his senses- the dull claws of the scared pup keep him sane, but all at the same moment she claws desperately for a hold and whimpers in the face of the grotesqueness before her. "Easy, Manhattan," comes the comforting murmur from his lips as he locks his gaze rather boldly with the pegasus'.
Before him rests the hideous beast, standing at an awkward and unseemly tilt upon knobby knees, his disfigured face part hidden in shadow. The monster growls out a territorial set of speech, and the colt feels no fear. He walks closer, undeterred by the massive wings, and then, with Manhattan shivering upon his back, bumps the stallion's side as he walks past.
Walks past right into the path of one of the most glorious creatures he has seen by comparison. Before him stands the king of the edge, a unicorn like his brothers Casimir and Evers, but sporting a more regal and commanding air. With fascination he watches as the ice-like figure parts the air and relieves the tension. He seems to emanate the cool stillness of the moon, and instantly the colt is attracted to it. Upon his back, Manhattan burrows nervously into his mane and takes residence in the curve of his shoulders. She knows curiosity kills- she remembers how she ende dup trapped beneath the branch in the wood, and recalls that she was lucky to be saved. With each step her master takes, she noses him once more, constantly reminding him of the danger present.
But he fails to heed her- after all, he's never known danger. He is reckless enough to cast a glare back towards the hideous prince before at last settling with admiration upon the white stallion. "What an interesting pair," the colt muses with a deepening rumble, admiring the spots on Mauja's hide even as he speaks of the two as a unit. Raven black feathers catch the corner of his eye, and he fixes his focus on the intricacies of the unicorn's appearance. It's certainly a lovelier sight than Enki.
Our prince repulses as the little bastard colt pushes past him, his body gliding against the beloved brown wings upon his back. Enki shuffles his twisted legs awkwardly to distance himself from the ghastly colt, turning in time to see the white figure looming in a door way. His focus upon the boy with the glowing halter had veiled the sound of the approach from our hero, and now he stands, looking with a nasty expression toward both of them - the unicorn and the equine.
The whimper of a canine catches our beloved's ears for a moment, tugging the crumpled mass of his left ear forward, accompanied by the unmarred right. His gentle eye narrows to catch the outline of the pup in this dim light, noting with some care that he, she, or it seems to be injured and frightened. He can understand this cur's fear of the ice sculpture standing in one of the exits to the small little cove, an impressive figure. Our prince is not deceived that he is little threat to either of these equids - the gnarled form of his body is not meant for fighting. He could, perhaps, spike them with crystals or encase their legs, but it was not likely to stop them from harming the crotchety old gimp.
The frosty little prick's words send our hero into a rather expected annoyance. His ears tug back toward his skull, falling upon the mess of tangled black hair and twigs. He fluffs his feathered wings in contempt of those who entered his retreat, making the appendages and himself appear larger, more threatening. It would likely do little to stop them from trodding all over his escape, but our hero did not give in easily. The disfigured pegasus wears a sneer on his marred face meant for Mauja - Knox as well, though the git isn't looking - that cuts through the dark air almost as easily as the guttural growl that escapes his throat in the form of words.
"I have no interest in sharing things with the likes of you," our crippled prince's words echo off of the cavern walls. Contemptuous eyes glower at the unicorn king who stands like an ivory beacon in the doorway. For all of his beauty that reigned on the outside, Enki had a sinking suspicion he was a bastard, and for that, he had no interest in being kind. The foolish little boy was, on the other hand, seemingly enthralled by the outer beauty of the new guest. Stupid, completely stupid.
At the surprisingly deep tones of the colt, our prince lets out a scoff. His throat locks up with distaste of being tied together with that ice sculpture in the doorway. "What a fool you are," he sputters out finally, his voice curdling like an unhappy child. Oh, prince, don't let them get under your skin so soon.
""
our hearts are drunk with a beauty our eyes could never see.
Mauja the FrostHeart ice cold man watches earth die, eternal winter takes its reign
Small, black and brazen, the colt brushed path the grimy pegasus and ended up straight in front of Mauja - who simply remained where he was, leaning slightly towards one side, mockingly relaxed with one hip cocked. For a moment, he felt absolutely huge and god-like as the colt's eyes drank him in, small black head moving to grasp the entirety of the FrostHeart's tall, majestic frame. Oddly enough, it made him feel very self-conscious, but years of controlling his own emotions and body made him keep still, merely flicking his tail on occasion. With reverence in his eyes, the child drew nearer, the pup on his back making anxious noises, as if pleading with him to not grow closer. Who knew, perhaps Mauja excelled in executing foals in narrow ice caves. Neither of them certainly knew, and he wasn't about to tell. This was certainly a first, though; he wasn't sure if he'd ever come across someone who stared at him with such worship in their eyes, starstruck on first sight. The young were impressionable, though, and he knew that he struck a sight far more impressing than the stunted pegasus'. Still, old and curious as Mauja was, he was far more interested in such stunted creatures than those who were beautiful.
"I have no interest in sharing things with the likes of you," the pegasus said, letting them know in no uncertain terms that he didn't like them. "Now now, there's no need for such behavior, is it?" he chided the grumpy thing, using the soft voice one might use against an unruly child. Next came the colt's voice, deep despite his young age - still, it had some of the pitch of youth, but it wasn't unpleasant to listen to. The observation touched them, bounced off the walls, too softly spoken to create a proper echo yet leaving a lingering thrum hanging in the air. Mauja snorted. Either the kid was seeing double, or he had no idea what he'd just said. He didn't know what to hope for - the former or the latter? He didn't want to be paired with a hornless, but he had to admit to the twisted, grumpy creature being interesting. He didn't know if his own marbled frame could merit the term, but the fascination evident in Knox's eyes seemed to say it did. He seemed mad, with the sickly green light reflecting along the convex bulge of his eyes; Mauja let his eyes trace the white thing, which emitted the glow, then gave his head a small shake. Such a strange adornment, and he couldn't help but think of Coris and his leathers.
It seemed that the comment hadn't sat too well with the grumpiest of the trio either; he managed to sputter out some demeaning remark to the colt, and Mauja gave a soft laugh. It was entirely out of place, at odds with the hostility of the creature. "Aren't we all fools?" he mused, his baritone voice quiet, but strangely warm; there was something glittering in his gaze, like sunlight over a crust of cold snow. His head tilted slowly to the side, and the slick walls held a blurred white shape which mirrored the motion. The damp had settled in his coat, cold against his skin, worming its way into his throat with each breath he drew. He wondered if his lungs would grow moldy if he stayed here for too long. It certainly wouldn't surprise him, since each breath felt a bit like breathing water.
A drop of water struck the tip of his ear. Outside, the world was burning; in here, it was drowning.
07-21-2012, 10:09 PM (This post was last modified: 08-01-2012, 08:59 PM by Knox.)
Little defective colt takes in the words around them, learning new ones and realizing with displeasure that there are some he cannot understand. They speak of fools, and he wonders what the word means. He parts his lips to ask the question, but thinks better of it. What if asking the meaning would make him appear more ignorant before these two wise stallions? It was strange, but he wanted to impress them, or at very least the tower of ice that stood firmly before him.
Slowly he lowers his hindquarters and Manhattan slides off of his back with clear reluctance, and in seconds she is standing beneath him with her tail tucked and her eyes filled with anxiety. He moves back a foreleg to rub against her gently, to reassure her of the fact that the pair before them will not harm her. If they even try he will fight for her life; he has done it before and he will do it again. The bond between them is strong, the grip of their trust far from tenuous. He wonders with clear, innocent eyes if the two before him know what it is like to trust, to love. He wonders what emotions the ice king feels, or what the monster knows of love.
The trio, representing all different species and ages, puzzle him. He wishes to speak but knows not what to say- wishes to question but knows it will only embarrass him. Still, does he care? Manhattan would, he knows that were she a bit older, a bit wiser, she would be urging him against speaking, but for now she cowers in fear and hides in his shadow. Should he not make his own decisions, while he still can? His mothers influence is strong, his life controlled by so many other than himself. But for some reason, trapped in this cave with two strangers, two threats, he feels free. He cares not for their pointless squabbles of sharing and their eager displays of dominance. It is clear that the better stallion, he who is willing to put so much aside for the sake of knowledge and the power that accompanies it, is the leader here, and he is beginning to doubt that either of the two standing before him would even qualify as candidates.
"Have you ever known love?" He bursts out suddenly, changing the subject from whatever it was they were snipping about. "Do you know what love is? Do you know what is fair? Have you ever practiced it?" The questions burst forth from eager lips at a rapid pace, each delivered with the same, almost spooky monotone that would usually accompany apathy, but for him are signs of his first contact with freedom of decision. He becomes aware of the fact that he can say whatever he wants, and in this time he wills himself to do his best to learn whatever he can.
They were both crazy, our prince decides with a flick of his tail, the knotted mess snapping in the air in a protestation of their existence. While the Ice King, dead cold eyes and all, appeared to hold it together on the outside, Enki thought he might just be a crazed lunatic within the deep recesses of his heart. The colt was more blatantly defective. While his body was upheld properly, no misshapen features or irregularities, there was a look in his eye of madness - a disconnected view of reality.
Therefore, our hero is more than a little perturbed by their prescence here in the cave, which he had been pleasantly napping in just a few short moments ago. In those blissful drifts of sleep, there was no bastard unicorn chiding him like he was some insolent little colt, and certainly no annoying boy mistaking him as being a match set with Frostass over there. "Oh, fuck off," he says blithely, his seafoam green eye rolling up toward the ceiling in exasperation. You would think our prince had been dealing with this pair for hours, not moments.
At his debasing phrase to the colt, the unicorn laughs. It was a chilling sound, harboring some odd joy that should not spring from such a joyless prick. Still, left ear swivels to catch the sound, while the lump adjacent to it also twitches. Enki's eyes fall on him with no small amount of frost in them. His question brings a smirk to the lopsided face of the our winged hero, looking toward the King with some odd expression replacing the chill of the ice previously held. "Hardly, but I do find myself surrounded by them often enough to make me wonder how they manage to keep such high numbers."
"You would think they would die out rather than multiply."
Our prince's thoughts not hardly recovered when the youngest git speaks his mind again. Enki's face snaps to attention toward the boy, a puzzled look in his disheveled face. The cretin speaks of love, and the heart of our prince soars in an unexpected way, lifted by just the mention of such a feeling. Surprising as it is that the beast has known such an emotion, it is perhaps more unusual that he has no intention of seeking it elsewhere. Trapped in a world he makes smaller each day, our prince has no hope of seeing such a beautiful thing as love again.
"Fleeting," he says, his voice light and airy, unlike the rest of the words he has spoken thus far to his company. "Like the last hint of sunlight in the day." He sighs discontentedly, shuffling further away from the mess of bodies crowding his cave. "You would do best not to want for such a devilish thing as love."
""
our hearts are drunk with a beauty our eyes could never see.
Alex, could you maybe change the font of Knox's table? I have a really hard time deciphering it. :/
Provocation was a lowly means of amusing the self, but the stunted Pegasus retort had been so easy to foresee that it drew a chuckle from Mauja. He didn't bother responding to it, just gave another infuriating little smile as the conversation rose and fell, weaving its own pattern in the air and in the minds. The pup slid onto the floor, adding its own flavor to the sounds, the click of claws on a wet floor as she scampered in underneath her bondmate. The King's eyes drifted onto the black-furred creature, listening to Enki's grumbles with a patient, wistful sort of look in his distant gaze. "Perhaps we've traded intelligence for virility," he murmured in a distracted fashion, flicking his tail behind him. He hadn't wanted to barb the Pegasus for his rather unusual appearance, but this time he'd actually asked for a snide retort. He gave a shrug. "But if so, I think you're at the better end of the bargain." Perhaps it was well that Knox butted into the conversation then, re-arranging its flow entirely, for it certainly would keep more stupid words from rolling off Mauja's tongue. It was a surprising turn the conversation took, but not as surprising as the look on Enki's deformed face. That was more wondrous than anything else, to watch the grumpy old bastard transform into - something, something like the look on one's face when thinking about good old times that would never come again, like a fond remembrance of one's childhood...
Psyche had been his lover and his favorite, but he had never dared to love her. If she had stayed true to her word of being different and had stuck around, perhaps it would've grown into it - he had, after all, been ready to give a crown to her and raise her to the position of Queen. But by then, she'd disappeared, taking their daughter with her, and Mauja's marble heart and grown cold and empty again, locking away every emotion that found no outlet. Where Enki's face grew dreaming, Mauja's grew tinged with sadness. Still, there was a mirrored quality of wistfulness to his voice when he spoke his own sentiments. "If you always run west into the sunset you'll never see the sunrise. Looking for it will just bring it further from you, and when you find it, you'll want to capture it, but the more you grasp after it, the faster it slips through your hooves and flee. It would be like taming a storm, and what would a storm be if it was tame?" He shook his head, heavy heart rattling around in its stone cage of a chest. It was a miracle it didn't drop straight through his bones, the way it felt, a cold, painful lump that seemed to stumble and stutter in its rhythm. It held nothing of power, only frantic, erratic spurts of energy aimed at a creature that could be anywhere, dead or alive, a young girl who had been whisked out from under his nose. What did he know of love, but pain?
He found it marvelous that he shared Enki's sentiments in it. "It is better left alone," he said in a tired voice, watching the Pegasus shuffle backwards yet not finding it in himself to care. The alabaster stallion didn't move, didn't follow, didn't push and press; had the subject of love not come up, he likely would've matched the stunted creature's steps with his own, taunting and pushing into his space, but now he was just tired. He didn't want the colt's questions, didn't want to explain. He just wanted Snö back.
Tired and guarded eyes settled on Enki again, a humorless smile drifting onto his face. "He's right, you know," he said, clearly directing it at the black colt and his pup, while just watching him from the corner of his eye. After all, he was in Mauja's line of sight. In a defeated voice he echoed Enki. "Do not want for it." Then you'll never know the pain of losing it.
Little defective colt unintentionally brings pain into the cavern, and does not even see it. He sees a certain subdued atmosphere settle across the two, stifling their insults and barbs, but does not understand its origin. The wistful look in the deformity's eyes and the painful sadness the king carry go unnoticed- he presses onward.
"How can one chase what is unknown?" Knox questions, ignoring Manhattan as she nuzzles his hock and attempts to get his attention- to tell him to stop. His eyes are filled with curiosity, his mind with hushed voices that mock the very idea of wanting such a thing. "Is the word of two jaded creatures such as yourselves truly the highest? There is innocence and ignorance, and then there is simply optimism- you lack both qualities, and I find myself unsure as to which I truly possess," the little colt muses, his eyes staring past Mauja and into the depth of the question. He feels not as if he is facing two strangers, but two ghosts. Their time trapped in this cave seems like hours- he begins to doubt their mortality, and yet he does not consider his own. The realization sparks another question. "Is selflessness a disinterest in one's being, or merely a lack of education on the matter?" he pipes up, unaware of the fact that he might be making his company tired with his pestering, and that his response may be no more than a bitter snap.
He watches the pair now wondrously; travels back and forth between the two so quickly that it becomes hard to see the difference. Is there really any difference? The old pegasus, stunted and broken, seems on the outside to be what the ice king hides, while the monarch's strength seems to rest deep within the soul of the monster. His blue eyes blink with a curious confusion, his hide twitches with both the cold and the dissatisfaction of not knowing so much. At his hooves Manhattan whines, curled up to defend herself from the cold and now gently biting the flesh around his right fetlock, her baby teeth dull and her gums itching with the pain that accompanies nervous teething. He does not consider how his actions, how his persistence, affects his charge.
He asks the pair of selflessness and practices the opposite. He is for some time completely unaware of Manhattan's actions- it is a stronger bite that pulls his consciousness reluctantly back to her, and curves his neck beneath his chest to invite her closer. She slides on the ice, making her way to her master's face slowly, whining as the cavern's surface fights against her. She is weak and small, helpless except under the protection of the colt. He nudges her now softly and affectionately in apology, love in his eyes without him even recognizing the emotion.
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