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[JUDGED] Above your pay-grade | COLT CHALLENGE - Printable Version

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Above your pay-grade | COLT CHALLENGE - Gaucho - 11-12-2015



Unacceptable was not a word that the Wildfire threw around often. In his primitive and primal existence, almost anything went. Justice was at the leisure of the strong; fortitude entailed opportunity. Love was a receding tide where only the very strong could remain fixed. Dynasties rose and collapsed, bright lives flickered out. The law of an eye for an eye was ever present, and ever impartial. Nothing was off limits, nothing was unacceptable.

Except an attack on Gaucho’s family.

Family, for Gaucho, was a broad notion. For one who was seemingly so promiscuous and so absent from the idle conversations and day-to-day dealings of his herd, the wide-net of the term seemed inappropriately given to the Dragon’s Throat. But it wasn’t. Not in Gaucho’s mind. They were all his family - all his kin, under the sun. Yet not even a Sultan such as Gaucho could remain as impartial when the safety of his flesh and blood was threatened.

Perhaps it was Zenobia’s likeness to her mother - the crystalline dove who had been absent from the sands for so long. Perhaps it was merely an outlet for Gaucho’s vast strength to be levied. Or perhaps deep down, even the impressively strong Gaucho was afraid of his eldest daughter disappearing on him again - whether on her own, or at the hands of another. Whatever it was, Gaucho acted with a haste befitting his moniker. He truly became a wildfire.

The mare looked dirty. Gaucho’s steely gaze didn’t discern whether this was merely her natural colouration, or whether she was covered with dust. He also couldn’t tell if her stare was focused on his daughter, or on the prized pelt she had claimed for herself. The light was already beginning to dim - and on this shoreline, so far from the light of the diviners fire - darkness had fallen. But it didn’t matter. Gaucho had not yet met a challenger who he could not best, but even were it Archibald standing before him, trained and prepared to the best of his abilities, Gaucho would not have faltered. What use was strength, if it was hindered by pride or selfishness? What use, if not for a Father to protect his daughter?

Gaucho shoved passed Zenobia with eyes only for Colt. His already burning wings slipped purposefully from his flanks with haste; snapping backwards only once before ushering a wall of fire forward. He wanted to hear Colt’s screams, and to smell the scent of her burning flesh. Make no mistake - Gaucho derived no pleasure from causing pain. But from experience, he knew that pain of this calibre would be all that would ensure that there was no repeat performance.

"YOU WANT TO STEAL FROM DRAGON’S THROAT" He boomed, his powerful baritone voice following in the stead of his flames.  "YOU WANT TO STEAL FROM GAUCHO?"

In his antlers, Mara hissed with delight, urging Gaucho to move forward so that she could bite the stout mare. His thoughts, as incoherent as they were, managed something that resembled patience, amidst the general blood-lust and frenzy. In constrast, Vorsa departed from Gaucho's antlers to hover protectively around Zenobia.

Lunging forward, Gaucho tried to slam his right shoulder into Colt's left. Although there was a vast height difference between the two, Gaucho was still confident that the spiked collar he wore around his broad, blue-stripped shoulders would find flesh. If not, his pure physical prowess would likely send her body tumbling to the right even if his positioning had been hindered by the dying light and his deceiving array of flames.




Set on the Helovia-shores of the Dragon’s Throat (Since Zeno’s last thread was in the Throat, I thought that this made the most sense).
Dusk - Tallsun.
Challenge to make @[Colt] DT prisoner
1/4
Summary: Gaucho sees Colt (successfully blocked Zeno in Dark's stealth), moves passed Zeno and throws an arc of fire at Colt, then lunges after her trying to collide his right shoulder into her left (so just shy of being perpendicular, with his face facing more towards her own)

WC: 592

Gaucho the Wildfire
If this is to end in fire
Then we should all burn together

Art by: schwartze @ DA



RE: Above your pay-grade | COLT CHALLENGE - Colt - 11-13-2015



Everything was fine and going exactly as planned. 

Until it wasn't.

She had been trying to ever so stealthily steal away a hide worn on the shoulders of some naive girl. Surely that little thing didn't deserve such a magnificent article, so Colt thought that maybe, just maybe she could snatch the pelt and run like a bandit in the night. It was unclasped, leading her to believe she could easily slip it off and race away like the wind. Perhaps she could've gotten away with it too if her breathing hadn't been so rapid, or her heart hadn't been beating so fast. Or maybe if that massive oaf had been born with poor eye sight.

The dun let out a startled gasp at the sight of a flaming bay titan barreling her way, swearing he'd probably popped at least three veins by the look of rage on his face. Colt stammers out a string of curses as she spins on her heels, desperate to flee from such a massive man (he probably eats small children for breakfast). It isn't that she doesn't want to fight, it's just that he looks like he's going to sit on her, and being someone's ass cushion does not sound like a life Colt wants. 

She turns her head, slowing for a brief moment while she strides away to see vibrant red fire. There was fire hurling towards her at threatening speed, and if Colt wanted to live through this, she had to haul ass away from the wall of fire. She'd rather not be fried extra crispy today, no thank you. So she bolted diagonally, veering to the left in hopes she'd make it in time to escape the flames. 

She spins around and feels hot screaming agony down her left hip, from hip bone to gaskin she felt the burning of her flesh as the flames licked away at her with an eagerness almost equivalent to hers when she first laid eyes on that stupid hide. He's screaming at her while her flesh sizzles and crackles, exposed tissue howling as loud as he was with a need for attention. The burns seared with pain as she moved her body, swinging her rump around as she set herself up, teeth grinding together as she held in a scream. 

Ready.
She cocks her left foot back with rapid speed, making sure beforehand to brush the hoof gently against the stone that stood before it. 

Aim. 
She turns her head, steel sights locked onto the target at hand. If she was lucky she could land a shot in his lower neck, closer to his breast. Her pain begins to ebb away into a need to fight, shallow breathes resulting in her heart rate slowly decreasing. 

Fire
The trigger is pulled, hoof swinging backwards in full force. She feels the stone leave the ground, her lips curling in a smirk at the satisfaction of firing her magic. Colt perks her ears to hear the bullet fly, giving a deep intake as she hopes that it's a direct hit. 

"Listen you feather-brained dim wit," she begins, striped brows knitting together as frustration burrows its way under her skin. "I'm not afraid of you." She spits, ears flat against her skull as she watches him lunge forward with terrifying purpose. He's big, fat and running with a cause, and Colt would rather not die today. Somewhere inside she swears for being such an idiot and thinking she could get the easy pass on this failure of a steal. She'd never gotten the easy pass before, no reason she would now. Her muscles tense with preparation for a hit, but she ushers herself to move along without hesitation in her step.

She turns her body in the few seconds she has left, looking back to watch the ebony blur get bigger and bigger until finally he was upon her. She couldn't decide what was scarier: him or his smell. She's about to bite the bullet and take his attack, feeling the swing of his right shoulder as it grazes her withers, mainly striking the left side of her neck. She feels like her throat just got smashed up, gasping at the impact of it. 

Colt's body shudders with adrenaline, her eyes widening when she realizes there's blood dripping down from behind her left ear, a wound from an unseen spiked collar leaving her surprised and rather frustrated. She slows herself down, still attempting to keep up with the stallion but barely able to on her stout legs. With ivory maw gaping, she takes a strike at the stallion's right thigh with the intent of grabbing and holding on for dear life. She would stubbornly attach herself like a leech to his well-muscled thigh, she was out for blood. 
"TALK TALK TALK"
@Gaucho (dunno if i should tag you with each reply, but please tag me ~<3)
1/4
800/800
summary -- Colt attempts to run diagonally left away from the fire, but ends up getting her left hip burned. She fires her magic, aiming @ the center of Gaucho's breast/chest. when he lunges at her, she turns and runs alongside him before getting hit on her lower neck (left side). she ends up getting stabbed behind the ear by his bone collar before dropping her pace so that she can bite at his left thigh. 

**Must roll a 10 sided die for results of her magic attack (w/ 70% accuracy)


SOME REMEDIES ARE WORSE THAN THE DISEASE



RE: Above your pay-grade | COLT CHALLENGE - Gaucho - 11-14-2015



There was movement behind the two fighters - the rustle of wings, hushed commands, and shifting bodies - but it was hard to clearly differentiate any one voice amidst the hiss of flames and Gaucho's own heavy breathing. Mara vaguely made it known that it was Gaucho's family gathered behind, to rally and support him, but he didn't need to be told.

He knew, just as surely as they all knew he would come to avenge them in a similar situation.

Before his body could reach Colt, the Wildfire felt something akin to a kick striking the center of his blue-striped chest. However the radius of pain was far too small to be a kick, and Colt is still too far away for her short legs to have reached him. Pain ebbed outwards in a dull throb with each step that Gaucho took towards the stout mare. Yet the pain pleased him. It meant that, although she ran from his flames, that she was not running from this fight.

Her worthiness grew in his eyes, even as his fire died down. "Good." His voice sounded guttural -almost like it was just a coincidence that his mouth formed the word while air moved out of it. The rapidly-growing lump of pain in his chest flared brightly as his body brushed past Colt - and although he couldn't feel the blood drawn from her ear, he could at least feel the satisfying tug of resistance on his collar, caused by the spike piercing her flesh.

As her lips peeled back and her teeth aimed for his thigh, Gaucho's ears pinned. Inside his skull and on his antlers, Mara mentally and physically displayed her frustration by writhing from side to side and hissing into his mind. Gaucho felt Colt's teeth pinching his skin, but instead of pulling away, he thrust his left hip towards her face, hoping both to knock her off balance and make her teeth disengage from his thigh, and also possibly to wound her nose. As he was doing this, he mentally gave Mara the go ahead. Like a streak of white lightning, the snake lunged. She aimed for Colt's wither or left shoulder, hoping to inject her venom into a meaty part of the mare. The snake was likely just as protective of Gaucho's children as he was - and she knew better than any the relief that flooded his heart when Zeno returned, and how it had blossomed into something even more robust when she didn't disappear soon after. 

The snake retracted just as Gaucho pivoted on his forehand, swinging his body right. His hind legs lifted off of the ground aiming for whatever part of Colt's compact form he could hit; hoping to further destabilize and injure her. Although it was growing ever darker, Gaucho hoped that the full extension of his legs would be enough to strike some part of her. And if not... As his hind-legs crashed back to the earth, the earth in turn seemed to vibrate in response as his warrior's magic bowed and flexed the rocky terrain. 

Gaucho clenched his teeth as a tremor of pain shuttered through his chest, and not for the first time he wondered how the dark mare had caused him this injury. Magic was surely the culprit but ... he had seen nothing. For now, the warrior stifled that question as he finished the pivot which had been interrupted by his buck. He tried to position himself between Colt and those who had gathered, keeping them behind him. He wouldn't have Colt further trying to assault those he cared about. Gaucho's wings rose from his flanks, and spread outwards. This tactic was only partially to intimidate the much shorter mare - in truth, the real reason was to shed light on who the thief was. Literally. Gaucho's flames bathed the area in a warm golden light, which was a stark contrast to the rapidly decreasing natural light. Already long shadows lingered a dark blue-black along the rocky shoreline. 



Set on the Helovia-shores of the Dragon’s Throat (Since Zeno’s last thread was in the Throat, I thought that this made the most sense).
Dusk - Tallsun.
Challenge to make @Colt DT prisoner
2/4
Summary: Her rock hits him in the chest. Her teeth pinch his thigh, and he throws his weight against her face, while Mara tries to bite her shoulder/wither and inject her with her poison. Gaucho pulls away and pivots - bucks towards Colt - and then continues his Pivot to try and put himself in between Colt and his gathered family. 

WC: 592


[I don't need to be tagged. I'M ON IT :D]
Gaucho the Wildfire
If this is to end in fire
Then we should all burn together

Art by: schwartze @ DA



RE: Above your pay-grade | COLT CHALLENGE - Colt - 11-16-2015



She is a flurry of thoughts, spewing out in quick succession as her body dances over the earth. This familiar feeling of adrenaline (maybe a dabble of fear) flooding through her with pain nipping her heels as she moves. Colt can feel it in her bones that she is rather weak compared to the stallion she's facing, she knows that he'll take her and break her. She can handle that. It's the pain of losing that worries her, the fear of being shamed for her failure. Ricochet would disown her for such a pathetic performance (honestly fuck him), laugh and spit in her face while she crumbled to pieces under the crushing pressure of shame. 

She feels her teeth slip into the fleshy thigh of her opponent, ivory sinking into ebony hide with the intent of taking and tearing. It's a moment of triumph for her, but it's short lived. Her grasp doesn't last as her face bounces off the thick left hip of the titan, her eyes widening as her grip loosens and her step falters from the hit. She stumbles and slows, short legs unable to keep her from falling forward (stupid fucking short, useless legs). Somewhere in the back of her mind a slew of curses is released as she pushes her weight too far to the front, leaving her catastrophically collapsing upon the earth. 

A streak of white sends Colt's senses into overdrive, snake. And one thing Colt knew was that snakes were venomous (why else would he have it? As a decorative noodle to dangle about?), and the last thing she needed was deadly toxins coursing through her veins. She barely has to think about it, her decision already made as she forcibly pulls her legs from under herself so that she stumbles and falls, sides heaving and sweat plastering her forelock to her brow. Her dun body tumbles along, leaving her just behind the Wildfire. Fuck fuck, get up you idiot, she urges herself to get up but the dirt and rocks clinging to her recent wound prevents her from moving. Colt begins to haul herself up, head rising as she struggles to stand. Her hind end is still against the sand before she lets out a rather horrendous squeal at the sight of the male's massive body pivoting, hind legs striking out. 

The force of the kick is enough to send Colt into a terrible coughing fit, her chest wailing at the forcible nature of Gaucho's strike as her blood drips down the curves of her breast. Her lungs scream from how solid and exact his hooves were, striking the center of her chest and leaving her winded. Surging forward, Colt raises the rest of her body, the muscles in her legs taught as she prepares to leap beyond Gaucho and fire yet another time. Close combat would never work for her, not with the brute strength her enemy holds. She releases her hind legs, springing away from Gaucho with her forelegs spread out to catch her as gravity pulls her inevitably downward. She leans to the right, encircling the stallion with her eyes trained on him. 

She feels the click of her safety, set and in place as she races along his right side, charcoal hooves striking the ground with purpose in her stride. She will not give up so easily, Colt will not go without a bang. She kicks out her back legs, feeling a rock launch into the air, a whizzing bullet is music to her ears as it flies towards its target. Her intention for was it to land in Gaucho's right eye, to pierce the flesh and leave him vulnerable to attacks. Colt is furious now, prepared to give it her all. She will not let this stallion ridicule her, she won't give her father the satisfaction of her loss (he may be dead but he's surely rolling in his grave at her piss poor performance).  

Colt's breathing is heavy, her sides heaving as her lungs struggle to grasp at the air she's lacking. Sweat is slipping down her neck, her physical exertion apparent in the slickness of her brass hide. She carries herself forward, glancing back to check up on her ebony attacker. Her steel eyes scan over the stag, assessing the situation she's been forced into. Colt takes it it, figuring out what would work best for her. That damn snake is an issue if Colt wants to do any serious damage, she can't risk getting bit because who knows what the venom will do to her (she could be dead in minutes). Gaucho's size and strength overpowers her own, but she barely does damage with her magic. Colt's wedged between a rock and a hard place with this, her (metaphorical) hands tied. 
"TALK TALK TALK"
797/800
2/4
summary: Colt gets bashed in the head by Gaucho's hip and ends up tripping and falling, sort of forcing herself//letting herself fall when she sees Mara. She gets struck in the chest by Gaucho's hoof and loses her breath. She circles counter clockwise and uses her magic to shoot at Gaucho's right eye.  

**Must roll a 10 sided die for results of her magic attack (w/ 70% accuracy)


SOME REMEDIES ARE WORSE THAN THE DISEASE



RE: Above your pay-grade | COLT CHALLENGE - Gaucho - 11-19-2015



Gaucho felt Mara’s expanding frustration as her jaws clenched on empty space. He flooded her mind with battle-admiration for the stout dun. Gaucho could have viewed Colt’s sudden drop to her knees as cowardly, or even childish, but he didn’t. Although the Wildfire’s tried and true method was to face oncoming attacks and bear their weight so as to retaliate more readily, he was a great deal larger than Colt. While that meant there was more of him to hit, it also meant there was more of him to absorb an attack. For one as small as Colt, for all of her stockiness and lack of slender-limbs, perhaps evasion was her only way to stay in the game. And in that, Gaucho saw honour.

He hadn’t even expected her to fight him, much less last this long.

As the snake retracted herself bitterly into Gaucho’s antlers, he at least had the satisfaction of feeling his attack find flesh. Given that Colt had dropped down to her knees, the Wildfire had wondered if his hooves would knock against her skull, but the amount of his attack which felt absorbed by muscle and fat told him that it was likely much lower. It didn’t matter. She would not be triumphant now - her lack of cowardice did not alleviate her crimes against his daughter. This show of skill was nothing more than a drop of water on her tarnished reputation, cleansing only a small and unimportant fraction of the whole. 

As Gaucho watched the mare pull out of her dive and steady herself, he waited for her to retaliate. Bathed in the light from his wings, she was clearly visible as she slunk on the hardened ground - though he was rather surprised that his magic that reverberated through it hadn't unsteadied her more. So, it was all the more confusing when she raised a hoof and apparently kicked out at him, even though she was no where within range. Although he might have appeared back-lit and harder to focus upon because of the light that bled from his body, at least where he was should have been obvious enough. Before he could continue to speculate as to her odd behaviour, he felt a heat suddenly break out across his right cheek bone. It felt both like a tearing and a burning simultaneously. Gaucho’s ears immediately pinned against his skull as his bone-pierced nose rose into the air out of surprise. A strangled and muffled sound escaped his darkened lips as pain blossomed brightly in his mind. His right eye had already begun to water as the rush of air from Colt’s bullet as well as the immediate swelling of the wound made it difficult to see. Through Mara’s eyes, he saw roughly a 4 inch long cut beginning from his cheek bone and ending just below and behind his eye - a clean graze from her bullet. The cut was shallow and open, revealing thick and dark blood which gently dripped downward. 

Although the burning and unyielding scream of the wound was nearly deafening in Gaucho’s ears, he had become used to the uproar. It wasn’t just his training as a life-long warrior which gave him the ability to dial back the volume to a manageable level, it was his companions. Having the voices of two females of varying personalities constantly surveying and commenting on his thoughts, and articulating their own, made for quite a bit of chatter. Gaucho was still a man of few words, even after having learned enough of Helovia’s native language to be proficient. And so it had become necessary to learn to control the competing voices in his mind, whether they be from his own body, or his companion’s.

Regardless of his continued surprise at how Colt was able to attack him without seemingly attacking (even her bullets, rudimentary as they were, moved too fast for him to see), and regardless of the open wound screaming profanities into his mind, Gaucho was able to act.

Smoke which immediately flickered to life, fuelled by his own magical ignition, billowed from his antlers. It took the form of a large bear - the size of Colt herself - and an eagle, which was equally as large. The eagle flew towards Colt’s head, while the bear charged her rump. Both had claws and jaws open wide, flickering with fiery teeth and talons, intent on scalding and burning the dun mare.

Blood dripped freely down Gaucho’s cheek, branching out almost as a tree might, and flowing into arbitrary tributaries through his dark hair. His right eye was already quite swollen, and so the Wildfire allowed it to simply remain shut, as were his teeth, which silently gnawed on the pain.



Set on the Helovia-shores of the Dragon’s Throat (Since Zeno’s last thread was in the Throat, I thought that this made the most sense).
Dusk - Tallsun. 
Challenge to make @Colt DT prisoner 
3/4
Summary: Gets hit on his cheek from Colt's bullet. Uses his magic to create a fire bear and eagle which move to attack Colt. 

WC: 785


Gaucho the Wildfire
If this is to end in fire
Then we should all burn together

Art by: schwartze @ DA



RE: Above your pay-grade | COLT CHALLENGE - Colt - 11-22-2015



Colt's eyes peer at the flaming stallion, his vibrant light against the now rather dark landscape leaving her unable to tell whether her bullet hit or not. In the conditions they were in she was sure there was going to be more faults on her behalf, leaving her at a disadvantage. The darker it got, the worse her chances would become. Gaucho was a beacon of flames against the night, meaning he would be brutally obvious but staring at him was like staring into the sun. 

Swearing in frustration, Colt swings back around to face the stallion and asses what to do. Fighting him at a closer range would give the stallion an advantage. Her eyes dart about his body, ears flung back and muscles taught as she surveys her options. Surrender was not one of them, Colt could not give up, she was not weak. She would not stoop so low as to draw up the white flag and let the stallion's ego expand. 

Colt shifts her gaze to... what was that? She squints, eyes screaming as she focuses on the blaring light of the stallion. From his form dance two rather large beasts, their figures lit with flames. Shit. Colt spins on her heels, frantic to get away from the fiery beings as her left hip sends a painful reminder of why she doesn't want to get burned (again). Her short legs carry her a small distance before she feels the heat of the magic against her hide. She sprints as fast as she can, feeling the singing of her leg hairs already (weren't there two?) 

A surprised screech escapes her lips as a light above her head triggers fear and panic, steel sights widening at the idea of this second flying beast descending upon her face. She ducks, feeling (talons?) upon her crest, the flowering of new wounds upon her slick flesh. It burns (quite literally), the sensation of flames licking down her neck forces an audible screech from her lips. She feels it eat away at her skin, leaving the skin along her neck sizzling and exposed. 

Colt feels her hind legs get swept up within the fires of the fire beast behind her (she'd almost forgotten about it too), the ends of her tail getting caught up within the flames as well. Her charred hair is no worry, the overwhelming pain of her legs being consumed by enraged flames keeping her mind alive with the need to survive. 

This kind of feeling, of running, her lungs crumbling against the over use, it takes her back. The feeling of her muscles being overworked, of straining against her will, tingling with the rush of adrenaline. It sends her into a spiral of nostalgia, running frantically with her father, late into the night of her youth. She remembers the many harsh hours of training, fleeing with the shades at her heels and her father lashing at her for her cowardice. The scarring along her body is from a mix of her failures and victories against the shades and her father. Colt hasn't reflected on her younger days in a long while She has forcibly pushed away those cold nights and Ricochet's insults, burying them where she would never find them (it seems this time they've found her). 

She misses a step, hooves tangling as she slams to the earth and rolls, the bear (so that's what it was) looming over her body. Colt feels the bear's flames lick against her croup as she struggles to get herself up. Her blood is pumping, her body is trembling and her gun is loaded. She refuses to let herself fall, she had an empire to build, a destiny to fulfill. 

Colt rises slowly, teeth grinding together as she finds her footing. She builds her momentum back up, racing forward into the dark. Her grey hooves thrum against the sand, kicking up dust and debris as she diverts from her original path, circling back in a clockwise direction. She hopes that her precious attack against Gaucho hit, because otherwise this attack is going to be obvious. She shifts her shoulders, now running at a more diagonal direction, her safety off. She's ready now, head craning as she squints to aim (his fiery wings are no aid). Her trigger clicks and releases, and the bullet flies. Colt's uncertain on whether or not it will hit the intended target, the stallion's neck the point of interest. She wanted to hit the all important artery, if her bullet had enough power. She was fed up now, feeling her body scream with each step as she lets her hind hoof settle back into the earth after her shot. Whether she makes it or misses is enough to get her heart pumping with a rather irrational excitement. 
"TALK TALK TALK"
800/800
3/4
summary: gets chased and burned by Gaucho's magic animals (didn't exactly know how to write that happening, hopefully the way i did was ok). circles around and aims a bullet at Gaucho's right side, hoping to pierce his neck 

**Must roll a 10 sided die for results of her magic attack (w/ 70% accuracy)


SOME REMEDIES ARE WORSE THAN THE DISEASE



RE: Above your pay-grade | COLT CHALLENGE - Gaucho - 11-23-2015



Gaucho did not burn and fight with powers of his own. Everything he did, and everything he had, was merely an extension of the Sun God. Some thought him boastful, or overly aggressive when he lashed out so violently at those who would steal from, or infringe upon the freedoms of his herd. It was not pride, vanity, or a desire to demonstrate his strength and reign, that drove him to wage these endless wars. It was out of reverence for the Sun. Before the Sun, Gaucho was nothing; a warrior from a far away land. With the Sun's blessing, he was made whole by the endless light and grace of his golden deity. It was through the Sun that his memories were restored, that his body was marked, and that his soul was twice bonded. This was not revenge. This was not hostility.

This was worship.

Their's was not a God to stand idly by, or be satisfied with inaction. Their's was not a God for whom mediocrity was allowable. Their's was a God of fire, and purity, and strength - and it was those traits that fueled the creatures who fled after Colt, scalding and burning her muscular hide. It was not from Gaucho's own authority that he had condemned Colt to this battle, but on the Sun's.

Gaucho's taunt muscles tensed as Colt's body dropped to the ground. The first time he had given her the benefit of the doubt, thinking her to be cunning. Now however, with his creatures looming large over her, he viewed her as either very clumsy, or very stupid.

Not that it mattered which.

"Still not afraid?" His voice boomed across the settling darkness. "Still want to steal from Dragon's Throat?" In his antlers, Mara hissed her laughter as the pair edged forward. As soon as Colt began to increase her speed, Gaucho did as well. His shoulders were trained upon her, so that as she rounded around to try and snipe him with another projectile, his blazing body failed to be her target. His mammoth form was attempting to hone in on her, even as her bullet harmlessly passed him by. The full brunt of Gaucho's attack was aimed at Colt's left shoulder and neck. Although he couldn't see the wounds he had inflicted there earlier, he knew the second wave of pain that opening a recent wound could yield. He attempted to ram directly into her shoulder, hoping to slice the muscle with his spiked collar, while at the same time biting at her left ear or neck. Defensively he kept his nose to the left, to try and protect the torn skin on his cheek as it began to painfully knit itself back together. The blood had not fully clotted yet, and Gaucho knew that it would not take much to further aggravate the wound.

In his antlers, Mara continued her hissing. She had been thwarted once by the mare, but even if she dropped to her knees again, she couldn't avoid the snake's incessant and insistent hissing. Hopefully it was disorient her, or make her afraid, causing her to be dumb to Gaucho's attacks and strength. If nothing else, the gun-steel snake felt her frustration flowing from her body with every articulated Sssss.

Adrenaline pumped through Gaucho's system, as the scent of sweat, mare, and burned flesh fully penetrated his senses. Battle lust was an old friend, invigorating his body with a tantalizing chill. Though while he was just getting started, Colt looked near her end.



Set on the Helovia-shores of the Dragon’s Throat (Since Zeno’s last thread was in the Throat, I thought that this made the most sense).
Dusk - Tallsun. 
Challenge to make @Colt DT prisoner 
4/4
Summary: Avoids her attack. Charges at her left shoulder to try and tear it with his collar, and bite at her left ear/neck.
WC: 587



Gaucho the Wildfire
If this is to end in fire
Then we should all burn together

Art by: schwartze @ DA



RE: Above your pay-grade | COLT CHALLENGE - Colt - 11-25-2015



Colt spits, swearing and cussing as her hooves collide with the earth in an attempt to put distance between her and Gaucho. She had missed, knowing full well her last shot had been off as the stallion takes no hesitation in running for her. Now she had nowhere to go, no plan of attack, Colt was just running to avoid this man and give her time to think. It proved to be no use, as he started running almost immediately after she did (he had screamed a few things but Colt wasn't going to listen, she didn't want to listen to what this deformed beast had to say). Colt could feel it, her body knew it before she did, that she couldn't push on like this. Her lungs painfully haul in more air while her short legs rise and fall from the earth, leaving dust in her wake. Colt felt the earth's tremors beneath her as the larger man came barreling for her, her enthusiasm on fighting him diminishing as soon as she realized her failure was inevitable. This man was bred for war, trained for it by the looks of his scarred hide and gear. She is but a babe compared to him, her attacks foolishly light and unplanned. 

Her head turns on a swivel, steel eyes focusing in on the upcoming ebony warrior. His legs carry him swiftly, shortening the distance between them with ease. Colt can feel her body trembling and tensing as she races by his side, breathing uneven upon the brush of their skin. His right shoulder collides with her left, knocking her senseless and leaving her fumbling to catch herself. How sturdy the hit was brought a shiver to her spine, the slick muscle of the stallion's body crushing against her rather feeble frame. Feeling the rage rising in her at how fucking done she was with this utterly useless birdbrained man, she turns her head and snaps at the skin of his neck. She will cling on even with the fear triggered by the hissing of the warlord's companion welling up inside of her (she'll accept it's bite now, she would rather die than face the world after this poor excuse of a fight). Colt gives out jagged, labored breathes as she feels multiple sharp stabs to her upper neck upon collision, followed suit by a tearing of her flesh. She feels warm pools of blood dripping from the entry wounds, her ears flipped back as she grits her teeth in disgust for her failure. She feels the ebony's ivory teeth tear into her left ear, leaving it chewed up and distorted.

Worthless

The word (the voice sounds rather familiar... Ricochet?) is brought to the forefront of her mind as she accepts that she cannot win, that she's been brought down by something as disgusting as this. Her blood boils and her skin crawls at the idea of losing to the hands of a hybrid as cruelly built as this one, her pity extending ever so slightly to this rancid being. "I pity you," she murmurs hoarsely, spitting at the stallion's face in an act of rebellion. 

She may have lost this time, but she swears that eventually she will bring this man to his knees, and that those children witnessing his victory today will witness his death tomorrow. Colt grinds her teeth together at this promise, brows narrowed as she concentrates on the dark ahead of her. She kicks back her hind legs, aiming them towards the antlered brute's own hind legs in an attempt to bring the beast down. Colt lets out a rather hushed grunt as she pushes forward into the darkness of the night, wounds gaping and body sore from her failure. 
"TALK TALK TALK"
623/800
4/4
summary: takes the hit from Gaucho, resulting in multiple stabs to her mid/upper neck from his collar, and she takes a bite to her ear. Colt tries to bite gaucho's (lower) neck  during the collision. she takes a moment before kicking out at his hind legs in hopes to make him fall. 


SOME REMEDIES ARE WORSE THAN THE DISEASE



RE: Above your pay-grade | COLT CHALLENGE - Gaucho - 11-27-2015



Gaucho felt the blunt pinching of Colt’s teeth against his neck in accompaniment to all the other ways in which their bodies collided: his spikes entering her neck, his shoulder melding with her own, his teeth finding the thin fold of her ear. He almost couldn’t discern her bite at all from the multitude of other sensory inputs he was currently feeling, were it not for the lingering and dull throb that it left even as their bodies parted.

The mare didn’t cry out, even when his teeth crushed the delicate skin of her ear, or as blood began to dribble out of the wounds his spikes had inflicted. Gaucho wasn’t sure if it was more invisible magic on her part, or if she was simply too tired. But then as she spoke, her words sounding like a defeated growl, Gaucho understood. Had she really thought she could best him? Was she only learning just now the inevitable course of failure she had put herself on? To think she could steal from him and his own, and then when that failed, that she could best him? The spit that flew from her lips assured the Wildfire that indeed, she thought she could.

And now she thought she could just run away?

Gaucho’s body pivoted after Colt’s wanting to stop the mare dead in her tracks. Fire rose from his wings, ready to encircle her and bring her to her knees once and for all. However the attack never came - Colt’s hooves struck the Wildfire squarely on his chest, sending a ricochet of pain outwards and upwards. The dun grunted harshly as the air was knocked out of his chest. He hadn’t expected such retaliation from her - but then again, the attacks of the desperate and close to death were often the most effective. After all, they had nothing to lose. As her body distanced itself from his, Gaucho grit his teeth together. That her attack had prevented his own was no matter - there was no where that her tired and tattered body could go that his couldn’t follow.

"Not going anywhere." Gaucho snarled, forcing himself into a wide-strided canter after her. The pain that thundered through the blue-stripped muscles of his chest was manageable, but annoying. Gaucho wast not necessarily a poor sport, but that the mare had gotten in one last hit before he ended this once and for all, was more than a little frustrating. He had been sloppy, and she successful. It wasn't a combination that he had anticipated.

"You not try to steal from Dragon's Throat and then just run away." The dun's black ears were flat against his skull. Even in victory, his point had not been made. Not until the mare made up for what she had tried to do.

"ZENOBIA-" He called over his shoulder. "This mare owe you apology."



Set on the Helovia-shores of the Dragon’s Throat (Since Zeno’s last thread was in the Throat, I thought that this made the most sense).
Dusk - Tallsun. 
Challenge to make @Colt DT prisoner 
Closing defense
Summary: Her bite lands on his neck, and her kick hits him squarely in the chest.
WC: 478



Gaucho the Wildfire
If this is to end in fire
Then we should all burn together

Art by: schwartze @ DA



RE: Above your pay-grade | COLT CHALLENGE - Official - 11-27-2015

20+ HP difference

Gaucho +1 VP
Colt +1 EXP

Colt is now a prisoner of the DT