Singing the Blues [Caleb Spar] - Printable Version +- HELOVIA || The Way to the Sun (http://helovia.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: Archives (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11) +---- Forum: Battle Archives (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=64) +---- Thread: Singing the Blues [Caleb Spar] (/showthread.php?tid=19721) |
Singing the Blues [Caleb Spar] - Elsa - 06-06-2015 Elsa I've cried, and you'd think I'd be better for it, but the sadness just sleeps, and it stays in my spine the rest of my life.
Considering she was supposed to be a badass mother trucker now, it would probably be best for them to create a skirmish or two. Edgar, wholeheartedly agreeing, squawked loudly from his perch. Which, ironically, was right between her ears. Elsa flinched extending her neck to give him a good shake. ‘Elle weak’ he spat, erecting himself back to his former position. Sadly, it wasn’t an entirely false accusation. The last spars, going back for quite always, had left her falling just short of a victory. Granted, most of them were meant to whip her ass, and she had expected as much. Oxy, Rostislav and Midas should have beaten her anyways. One a leader, the other two in the “general” position; should a mason have beat them? Exactly. It was that stupid little boy though, that left a sour taste in the back of her throat. He was a stupid child, who should have crawled away, but instead he was the victorious one. RE: Singing the Blues [Caleb Spar] - Caleb - 06-09-2015 Thud, thud, thud! The sound is distant at first, but quickly it is close, as if it's coming from right next to you. The thuds' sound comes from the outcast that moves quickly towards the snow queen at an astonishing speed. He comes down the beach, a shadowy figure, a veiled man, an enigmatic figure. Thud, thud! Each hoof-fall against the wet sand is another loud thud, another step closer to the ivory body known as Elsa. The wet grains clump together as they are sent flying as his hooves churn the shore with each stride. Slick hooves move too fast to focus on, resulting in them ending up looking like a continuous blur of beige hooves, chrome markings, and jet black fur. His feathered leonine tail trails behind him helplessly, resembling something like a kite being dragged behind some human child. He moves at a gallop, a powerful, confident, stride. Salty droplets are flung off of his muscular frame with every movement, a mixture of sweat and sea. The winter wind bites at his soaked body, energizing him with every strong gust. Spotless orbs catch sight of something white, something pristine and angelic. Without a second thought, Caleb's appendages unfold at his sides and with a few powerful thrusts, the dark man is airborne. His eyes are focused on her, gaze hungrily watching her. Her scent is familiar, a scent he has certainly smelt before. Soon, he realizes that this mare is the same mare that had greeted him in the Threshold with a seemingly trademark line "you're in the Threshold, the entrance to your demise," or something along the lines of that. The titan tries circling her snowy body, wondering if she'll remain on the ground like the wingless. He soars at a comfortable four yards (12 feet) above the ground, just out of reach, but close enough to attack. Without hesitation, he has already chosen this snowy-faced mare, known as Elsa, as his opponent, a mare that appears to be able to hold her own. Will he be able to overcome the seemingly honed mare? Without second thought, he moves to dive at her mid-spine, forelegs stretched outwards to hopefully hit her spine hard and cause damage. A surprise attack, it may work for him. It would be an easy win if he could break her back, kill her, and be crowned victorious that way, but he has a feeling it won't be that simple-- after all, Elsa had probably noticed the hulking Caleb hurl himself down the beach then into the air and already has an attack planned out. Still, he continues his attempt to dive at her, hopefully approaching from a perpendicular angle. If she doesn't see him coming, doesn't move, he assumes he'll be colliding with her back in seconds. Caleb's ears are perked upwards, desperate for the sound of bone cracking, even if it's just a rib. Maybe she'll crumble under his massive frame, but then again... She's not a short mare by any standards, perhaps only a hand shorter than himself. It's uncertain why he wants this, to fight. The dark stud himself does not know, nor does he truly care the reasoning behind his attack. Cease the opportunity, it's what he's doing right this moment as he tries to dive into Elsa's back and hopefully break something of hers. He feels angry at something, but it's uncertain what. Or maybe it's just the fact that he can't find his fuck buddy and he needs to release pent up energy. The world may never know... ooc: 1/3 dive at her spine his forelegs stretched out @[Elsa] ALSO, you mentioned endless blue and sand, but you also said stuff about heavenly fields so I wasn't sure where this was set, so I just assumed EB because no sand in fields. WC: 635 RE: Singing the Blues [Caleb Spar] - Elsa - 06-13-2015 Elsa I've cried, and you'd think I'd be better for it, but the sadness just sleeps, and it stays in my spine the rest of my life.
Elsa had an uncanny ability to look like a test dummy. Everyone seemed to see something they wanted from her, ranging from physical mutilation to emotional distress, Elsa was a kiosk of activities for those who are mentally unstable. So, maybe it was a good decision after all to become that fungus thing. She was already mutilated, so she might as well capitalize on her unfortunate situation. Edgar found this to be hilarious, and a gurgle-like birdy giggle grated atop her head. She pinned her ears against her skull, and suddenly he stopped. His tiny feathers shifted uncomfortably, and he began puffing up in defense. Elsa focused on the shoreline and it didn’t take more than a millisecond for her to register what was going on. A large stallion, dark and tall, was running towards her. His masked face looked oddly familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. Probably another bitter soul, since that’s how she fared with a majority of her acquaintances. RE: Singing the Blues [Caleb Spar] - Caleb - 06-20-2015 The thud of hooves against flesh was satisfying to the two year old. His body had driven hers into the ground and as he flapped his wings to ascend into the air once again and hopefully achieve a higher altitude than his pegasus opponent. Aiming to circle overhead, he glanced downwards at her, noticing the crimson that now marred her ivory back. He quietly wondered if his hooves were slick with her blood. Though undoubtedly a sick thought, the idea of his hooves dyed red after this spar finishes satisfied something deep within the primal stallion. A shriek left her lips as he tried to continue watching her, all while maneuvering skillfully in the air, like a vulture circling a corpse. Her bird-resembling companion had frozen the lacerations and he chuckled lowly to himself, interested that she had chosen to freeze not only her own flesh and fur, but to also freeze and solidify two cuts that needed to clot so they could scab and heal. Thoughts were halted as he began to bank to the right after continuing to fly straight on-wards with the intent to start making large circles over her and waiting for her to be ready for another attack, when she sprung into action, recovering quickly from his attack. Her wings unfold with grace before she leaps towards him, determination written on her face. Elsa and her companion are in the air quickly, rising higher and higher. Eventually, they are higher up than Caleb. As she tucks her wings in and dives at him, he tries to fly quicker, large wings flapping at an astonishing rate, but it is to no avail. Her hooves collide with the top of his rump, near his croup. The throb is instant, but he doesn't feel the pain of skin tearing. The dark beast figures that he will just have two large bruises on his rump from her hooves. Thinking her attack is over, his guard is dropped momentarily. Out of no where, her zephyr is on him, talons ready to dig into the thin hide that covers his face. Attempting to avoid the bird's claws, Caleb cranes his neck sideways, head to the far left, but it is to no avail. Daggers latch onto his left ebony and ivory cheek, leaving three puncture wounds when the bird flies away, and the sting is undeniable. At his back, Elsa has pushed off of him, using him to propel herself forwards. The weight of her on his back and the distraction of the zephyr are enough to cause Caleb slight disorientation and a momentary loss of balance, resulting in dropping altitude slightly. Fueled by the throb at the end of his back and the sting of puncture wounds in his cheek, Caleb gives a few powerful thrusts of his ebony appendages and chases after Elsa and her zephyr, his steel gaze watchful now, prepared for any more random bird attacks. He soars upwards with as much speed as the he can muster, attempting to be on an equal level with Elsa. When he assumes he is, he angles his wings slightly so he doesn't go up but forwards. He tries to aim his body at the junction where he tail meets her ass (which is no easy feat while flying at high speeds). Stretching his snout outwards, and hoping he is close enough to attack, his jaw unhinges and starts snapping out at her buttocks in hopes to ripe a large chunk of the tender meat from her body. Caleb isn't finished there though, and he continues to push himself forward, the muscles in his wings crying out with weariness. Lips seal and his chin tucks into his chest, his sharp horn protruding from his forehead like a knife. He aims to thrust his wings and get close enough to pierce her buttocks flesh with the dagger that rests on his brow. Hoping he has landed two successful attacks, the beast's wings begin to beat slower, slowing to almost a hover, as he waits for Elsa's move (or perhaps her zephyr's move). ooc: 2/3 - flies after her in attempt to bite her buttocks and then stab her buttocks @[Elsa] wc: 677 RE: Singing the Blues [Caleb Spar] - Elsa - 06-21-2015 Elsa I've cried, and you'd think I'd be better for it, but the sadness just sleeps, and it stays in my spine the rest of my life.
Flying and aiming was not easy, and so she never expected her attack to be powerful. However, it seemed that she had timed something right; for she feels her hooves connect with his body. The force of the punch resonates up her back legs, and even though he falls away, her own rump screams in protest. Small drops of coagulated blood crackle off, revealing pink, ripe flesh beneath. The lack of blockage causes it to weep again, fresh droplets of blood peeping out of the meat. Elsa grinds her teeth against the pain, but Edgar’s excitement cuts of the buzz of stinging. It seems that her other half was able to sink his feet in. According to Edgar, he had pierced Caleb’s face, and it made him cackle with delight. Elsa hovers for a moment trying to stabilize her feelings, she still wasn't used to this shared emotions crap. Caleb though, does not care for confusion, and continues his relentless attacks. RE: Singing the Blues [Caleb Spar] - Blu - 07-27-2015 Caleb defaults to Elsa. Elsa earns 0.5 VP. |