the Rift


wear it like a bruise or blackeye [Erebos vs. Oizys]

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#1
EREBOS
They needed to be better, faster, stronger, a carnivorous essence of a cold land. They needed to be vicious machinations and unwavering blades, chiseled animosity and feral, savage beasts – another set of legendary foes and guardians to pass down to generations thereafter, aspirations of the diabolical, of the impenetrable. The notion ate at him, night after night, patrol after patrol, into the morning hours when he couldn’t sleep, when all he saw were visions of greatness, chaos, or iniquity. It hissed in his dreams. It pulsed in his heart. It twisted and turned in his soul. He knew too, that it was more than just them, his merry band of Amazons, his knife-wielding clan of savages -
 
He needed to be better.
 
So he ground determination in his chest, allowed it to beat at him in his slumber until he awakened on the brink of annihilation and abhorrence, seeing blood behind his eyes, calamity throughout his skull, reaching, taking, pillaging, plundering. Eventually, he could hear it in the wind, in the snow, in the rush of calculations and the art of defiance, sweeping him up in the glow of the wild, immoral unknown. The prince, the General, the little fool with his blend of valor, of triumph, of decadence, wondered if they wanted that too – and if he should just ask them all.
 
He’d test them first though, one by one, scrutinize, smile, smirk, snicker, fall apart at the seams; carry the weight of a million on his shoulders until there’d be nothing left but his muscles, his sinew, his flesh, melded and molded from sedition and irreverence. Maybe it was madness. Maybe it was the allure of danger, of potency, of distinction, but they’d reign supreme, one way or another: by stepping on his proffered bones or gliding on the waves of his command.
 
The beast led his compatriot over the heathen reaches of ice and rime, down into the corridors and pathways drawn by savages before them, Orsino on his heels, Enyo only obliged the courtesy of watching, of witnessing (too young to be snared in the throng of infernal ramparts; but she’d have her day eventually). The kitsune snickered and smirked, caught in the tethers of battle again, already brimming with calculations and cruelty, but the youth only continued onward, into the catacombs of the Heart Caves, where they stood sculpted in the first opening – the sanctuary (and here Orsino laughed, cackled madly across their connection, because he had no intentions it remaining such a calling). The room was dark, balanced out by the sanctions of fire and lava glistening across its walls, a haven of brutality lurking below the surface, and it’d serve them well – two titans ready to clash, ready to fight. “How about here?” He remarked, all smiles, ruin, and abomination, two steps into havoc already, muscles coiled, eager and fervent, keen for the fray, for the fight, for Oizys to show him what she was made of, for him to finally uncoil, to unleash, to unveil. 


[0/3. 503 words. Erebos vs Oizys Spar.
Setting: Heart Caves, Sanctuary portion. Dark room, but has glimmers of light from the nearby fire/lava. Likely inhabited by stalactites and stalagmites.
 
You can have first move Snow! I’m excited! ^_^]

Image Credit

@Oizys

Oizys Posts: 134
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 7.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 17hh :: 2 HP: 73.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ker :: Philippine Eagle :: Curse Snow
#2


There's an odd shift to the gargoyle's stride today, a twitch of the muscles and tensing of the flesh that isn't usually present. It's like an unwelcome rippling riptide across a normally calm ocean; unfamiliar, unwanted, unnerving.

It is anxiety. It is rampant across Oizys' body, clinging to her like an infection. The facade of confidence, arrogance, bravado is oddly cracked today, spiderwebbed with fault lines that aren't normally there. There's an strange twisting in her gut, like a thousand hummingbirds are flying around in there trying to fight their way out. "Tasty," is Ker's response to Oizys' mental monologue, and she rolls her eyes irritably.

What is the source of the grey mare's nerves? It is the stallion who marches proudly in front of her, a beast of blackened flesh and power, a man who has conquered more in battle than the gargoyle can possibly contemplate. He is her superior, her General, her boss, if she must put such a word on it. And today, she's going to spar against him. She, Oizys, veteran of a grand total of two fights, against the rapier-wielding, malicious beast of a General. The odds are stacked greatly against her, yet she cannot make a fool of herself in this battle. She needs to make a good impression, to repay the herd's faith in her.

That's going to be easier said than done. As she walks, she takes the time to observe Erebos, seizing the valuable minutes to try and assess any advantage that she may have. She's actually larger than he is, stronger, her bulk forged from draft and Andalusian breeds to give her considerable raw power and endurance. Erebos is no lightly-built weakling, though; he's smaller and more slender than the brutish steel soldier, but there's iron lacing that wiry body, alongside agility and speed that must be greater than hers. Their battle will hang in the balance, that's for sure, with only a thin line between victory and ignominy.

The gargoyle girl frowns as she enters the caverns behind her General. "My mother always told me not to follow creepy guys into dark caves," she remarks, her lips tinged with a nervous smile and her tones jovial and devoid of malice. Perhaps calling him creepy isn't the best way to endear herself to him, but he is. He's all broody, handsome, lurky, handsome, stoic and handsome....wait, what was her point again? Shaking her head to clear her mind, the mare follows him to his chosen battleground and nods her agreement at his selection. "Perfect."

There's little use in beating around the bush. If she's going to get her ass soundly whooped, she might as well begin the process. The stone floor is hard underfoot, solid, firm, unyielding, perfect to fight upon, although both combatants will need to be wary of planting a hoof too hard and twisting it upon the myriad of hidden cracks beneath them. It's dark, and Erebos' blue-black pelt doesn't help things, but the flickering lava in the walls helps generate enough light for the mare to hopefully not lose him among the shadows. A muffled screech from overhead alerts her to Ker's presence, and it appears the raptor has flown directly into a stalactite hanging from the ceiling. Yet another thing to be wary of....as though the odds aren't already against her enough without the god damned roof wanting to impale her!

Pointy bits of rock, though, aren't nearly as frightening as the horned warrior that stands across from her, and as Oizys leaps into action she ponders for a moment whether shoving him ass-first into a stalagmite would be seen as an excellent battle tactic or just make him frown broodily at her for her lack of honour. For now, she focuses on attempting to approach him head-on at a canter, seeing little point in trying to maneuver around him in this cramped cave. She seeks to slam her great chest hard into his own, trying to use her superior weight and bulk to force him backwards and assert some semblance of authority upon him. He might have all the experience, but she has a heady combination of anxiety and determination, and that's a strong enough mixture to conquer any odds.

Or so she hopes.

Her head ducks, lowers, twists in an attempt to slash her three savagely pointed horns into the left side of his neck, trying to gouge downwards and create a series of painful lacerations. She doesn't seek to maim or kill him - he's a herdmate, after all - but hopes her blow will alert him to the fact that she's ready to give as good as she gets.

___________

@Erebos !

SKULL TABLE BUDDIES. I'm excited too! :D

1/3 - 776 words

image credit

[ the gargoyle queen ]
OIZYS IS ALWAYS RATED M FOR STRONG LANGAUGE IN HER POSTS




Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#3
EREBOS
There was something about Oizys that spurned him on – incensed, provoked, needled, made him mull over ruthlessness and havoc rather than honor and glory. Perhaps because she had yet to barb him, laugh at his idiocy, or proclaim him a fool, he crawled into the specious whims of infidels and fiends. Maybe because she was larger and stronger than him, built from heavier lines and war-infused blood, that he saw a challenge, a provocation, sketched between their interactions. Despite her inexperience, he saw no reason to hold back, for down in the folds of his schemes and motivations, he knew they all wanted to convey what they were capable of.
 
The youth, who’d grown beneath shadows and monsters, wind, rain, and cold, only yearned to prove himself to the world. Look at my strength, he wanted to proclaim. Look at my might, he wanted to roar. Look at my tenacity, he wanted to howl.
 
Then get on with it, snarled Orsino, and the General tucked away the note of laughter rumbling through his chest; seized the moment across the stony floor, and watched as she came near.
 
The flicker of embers and light cast a foreboding, ominous edge to her movements, and while he hadn’t underestimated her potency, her lethality, her power, the blow was still a shock to his system. He’d chanced a moment to change course, to twist amongst their narrow corridor off to the right, but it hadn’t been enough. She crashed into him head-on, chest to chest, and the monumental pain searing through his skull caused a gasp to scorch through his lungs, blinding, white spots flashing before his eyes. He could hear Orsino shouting somewhere through their bond, a vicious roll of Hey, hey!, but the agony was too overwhelming, too overbearing, to respond.
 
Every bone, every filament, every fragment of his upper body seemed to hurt, pulse, pervade, filling his core with assaults and sieges, fortifications marred, blemished, and bruised beyond recognition. He tried to swallow the bits and pieces of pain flooding his mouth as he stumbled back into a wall, the shock, the awe, attempting to muffle his scream – but lord, it only served to remind him of the day he’d spent gouging monsters, the hours he’d spent ensuring his own demise.
 
She wasn’t Ashamin, but the haunting clarity was still the same.
 
I can’t go down like this, he proffered to Orsino, and the kitsune agreed wholeheartedly, hissing, growling – and the boy managed to twist back to the right again, slowly, escaping the main thrust of her horns (the lacerations were enough though, sizzling and taking off blue pelt, hide, portions of a prince, paltry but bloody just the same). He couldn’t stifle his second gasp as his left shoulder complained of his movements – and he was rankled, irritated, exasperated by the notion that this was how the whole thing had started. He hadn’t had a chance to prove himself at all before she’d slammed, rampaged, and obliterated one of his few advantages.
 
Show them, he thought again. I have to show them.
 
He was more than this weak, pathetic being. He was more than the General of the north, the little beast with ambitions and aspirations pounding through his soul. He was more than smiles, grins, and vengeance – and they’d see, they’d know, they’d understand when he was through with them.
 
So Erebos ground his teeth and ignored his body’s outcry, proceeding forward as he gave Orsino a feral, ferocious command. Her eyes, he orchestrated, demanded, a sudden contortion of ruthlessness (the son of the Reaper, losing his compassion amidst the decadence of battle), do something to her eyes. The kitsune, caustic and unrelenting, greedily obliged the request.
 
His uncanny magic flooded through the hall, antagonistic and infuriating, blinding, dazzling scorches of light beams, then shadow, all intending to pulse madly in her gaze, to distract, to impede, to ensure the warrior would have enough time to delve into his methods and madness.
 
The youth boiled and seared, a sinister wake, a belligerent heathen, intending to scrape past old wounds and collapsed hours beneath Ashamin’s wake. Not again, he ensured, thrusting his way towards her left side, infusing his horn with fire invocations and deadly ire, with fury and demolition, reaching for her barrel, her flank, in a seething swing of his sword. I won’t fall apart again.

[1/3. 728 words.
* Due to the critical hit, Erebos takes heavy, bruising damage to his chest and shoulders. He’s slowed down severely by the impact.
* Oizys manages to make several small cuts on the left side of his neck, leaving them bleeding and without some hide.
* Orsino attempts to use his dark illusions magic on Oizys by causing an almost strobe light effect, hoping to blind/distract and irritate her enough for Erebos to attack.
* Erebos tries to infuse his fire magic into his horn, hoping to cut along her left side (along her barrel and/or flank).]

Image Credit

@Oizys

Oizys Posts: 134
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 7.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 17hh :: 2 HP: 73.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ker :: Philippine Eagle :: Curse Snow
#4


Their collision is jarring, so much so that even Oizys feels a thrumming of pain through her muscles with the sheer force of the impact. He reverses, and Oizys suddenly has no idea what to do next. Does she take the high road and stay where she is, let him recover and splutter I didn't mean to hit you so hard? That seems like the right thing to do, the good thing to do, going by the limited amount of fight etiquette she possesses.

Or does she take the low road, the vastly more appetising road, and press home her advantage by ploughing into him again whilst he's struck dumb? Her horns haven't caused as much damage as she'd hoped, which helps lessen her guilt about the wounds she forged with her chest. She reminds herself that this is battle, that niceties are to be left at the door and that honour is not a friend to true warlords, but it's hard to think about that when it's her General she's hurt, a man she begrudgingly respects and wishes to earn the admiration of. She'd told herself to impress him, not break him!

It occurs to her that she's underestimating him, though. He is not a soft-skinned battle virgin who will crawl away and cry at the force of her blow. No, Oizys rather thinks that she might have woken the beast - and that thought fills her with a savage thrill that she can hardly explain. Unlike against Weaver, where both women wore kid gloves and never fully let themselves go, she thinks she's about to experience the true ire of a warrior. She thrives upon that thought, feasts upon the notion that Erebos will want to punish her for her sins, that he'll hunger to break the little grey upstart that dare plant such a blow upon his sacred chest. Oizys' heart beats and her excitement pulses as she watches him wheel away to his right, knowing that she's about to earn a General's rebuke, a soldier's fury...

Then, inexplicably, her eyes fail her. The dim visibility of the cave is challenging enough, but now she can see nothing but manic lights and flashing, pulsing brightness, causing her ears to pin and her head to flail madly as she tries to rid herself of the hideous strobe effect. Ker, help! she commands, and the raptor unfurls like a snake from her perch on the stalactite she'd flown into. Her sharper, keener eyes become the gargoyle's as Oizys reaches deep into her bonded's consciousness and snatches her sight to use in place of her own, giving her a dizzying sense of vertigo and the odd phenomenon of being able to see herself from above (is her ass always that big?!)

It's just enough to allow Oizys to hurl her weight to her right as Ker's vision shows her Erebos' fire-gilded horn coming for her left side. It isn't enough to save her completely, but her movement means that only the very tip of the General's rapier slashes across her left flank and hip. The wound is light, glancing, but the heat from his horn makes it smart more than it should; she winces, grimaces, snarls as she feels her ripped flesh burning. It's not enough to impede her, but it's enough to harden her determination and make her silently berate herself for not seizing the opportunity to damage his chest further.

But ah, perhaps she can! She continues to wheel to her right, using her forequarters as a pivot as she attempts to swing around and bring her back end facing Erebos. Launching her weight to her forelegs, the mare bucks out twice with the thickly muscled bulk of her hindlegs, seeking to slam her great hooves into his already-injured chest. She wants to further the damage to the area to immobilise him completely - underhand and dastardly, perhaps, but all's fair in love and war. Surely as General he would want to see his soldier using her body to her advantage, utilising every tool she possesses to try and claim victory? She uses Ker's eyes to direct her, as her own are still throbbing with headache-inducing lights.

The raptor is not content with just giving Oizys her sight, though. Ker wants to bloody her beak in true battle, and her gargoyle bonded makes no attempt to stop her as she folds her wings and plummets from the skies. She aims for Erebos' rear, unfolding her gleaming talons as she attempts to slam her full weight into the stallion's rump, just above the dock of his tail. Her beak and claws attempt to rip into his skin and make him bleed, hoping he will be too distracted by Oizys' vicious kick to be able to avoid her.

___________

@Erebos !

2/3 - 797 words

image credit

[ the gargoyle queen ]
OIZYS IS ALWAYS RATED M FOR STRONG LANGAUGE IN HER POSTS




Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#5
EREBOS
Pathetic. You’re so pathetic. The haunting thought tore across his skull as his sword barely seethed and smoldered upon her skin. It was like nothing had happened. Naught had tarnished her. She hadn’t felt his rage. She hadn’t felt his fury. She hadn’t felt the weight, the might, or the swift, tenacious blend of his potency rip into her flesh.
 
So, for just a few seconds, he wondered if his attempts even mattered.
 
How far could ambitions and desires take him? How much perseverance could render him successful? If he failed, but still dug down, deep into the fathoms of his fortitude, would anything come of it? Did all his misery amount to anything? Did the fire in his soul bare any value, any importance? Did endurance and determination have a shelf life, and in the end, even when he forged onward again and again, would anything result from his efforts?
 
Ridiculous, came the sparks, the wrath, echoing along his mind. It was difficult to tell if it was his voice or Orsino’s, blended together in a rhapsody of motion and malevolence, but it resounded so stark, so bright, so blinding. He didn’t back away from it, because he knew the notions floating through his machinations were naught but hopelessness and irreverence, already sliding away from the power he’d pledged and promised.
 
You can’t fall apart so easily, it drummed again, and somewhere, he thought of his sire, obstinate and defiant, a spellbinding beast that had never sunk and whined so piteously. Look at me now, father he wanted to call into the cave, a low mocking laugh for himself –
 
But bedlam surrounded them again, and he couldn’t stumble back into his spiraling hell, trying to twist away (to the left) from the flash of her hind legs. His shoulders ached and his muscles protested, sending him to clench his jaw anew, struggling not to gasp, not to cry out, from the unrelenting spasms of pain. They surged against his brow and remained there, steady, belligerent, blistering once more when one of her hooves met his already brutalized right shoulder. It wasn’t as agonizing, not as intense, but there all the same, another bruising impact muddled and measured with the rest.
 
How was he to conquer now – when she could still see, when she could still run, when she’d been barely scorched, and all his inadequacies, all his efforts, had been reduced to fragments?
 
Enough already! Orsino hissed, and before the boy had a chance to retort, before the prince could snarl and growl in sedition, the kitsune had launched. Gone were the flashing segments of strobe lighting, and in its place, came more action and rebellion. Do I have to do everything?, the little beast proclaimed, eerie and savage, ferocious and nefarious. Away from the shadows, uncanny eyes searching and seeking out the other companion, he’d propelled himself from a nearby stalagmite, hind legs coiled, pushing off the rubble and stone, trying to head directly for the descending eagle. Erebos took the opportunity to shift slightly to the left again, impaired by his slow stride, barely missing the intended blow by the bird’s talons – while Orsino’s jaws parted, revealing malicious fangs, intending to rip, to snare, to strike. You should too, the sable fox issued, and the General whipped his head around, seeking out his opponent.
 
Was it a lost cause, or could he still prevail?
 
He hadn’t fallen. He hadn’t decayed. Even if one of his advantages had been snagged away, torn asunder by the agony rippling through his frame, it didn’t mean he couldn’t still unleash an assault.
 
Perhaps this was the moment where his aspirations did resound.
 
In the brooding silence, in the maddening schism of misery, he summoned his enchantments. The deep, dark denizens of his veins answered, decadent and sinister, sizzling amidst the clamor of his chest, his call to the untamed bits of his soul. They unraveled, unfurled, uncurled in hushed, quiet ministrations, a rapid call of go rumbling through his entity, sent towards the girl, the soldier, the warrioress. Sliding within those slivers was pain – waves upon waves of fresh, vicious, brutal torment, yearning to embed themselves into her skin, into her flesh, into her lungs, and pour right through her senses.
 
Can you endure it too? He wanted to ask her, then and there, between the columns of stone and fire, alongside the pillars of earth, rubble, and disaster, if she would crumble or rise, flicker apart or triumph.

[2/3. 748 words.
* As Oizys’s hooves come towards him, Erebos attempts to dodge to the left, but fails to get away completely, earning a bruise on his right shoulder.
* While Ker comes flying down towards Erebos, Orsino attempts to use a stalagmite as a launch pad and tries to meet Ker mid-air, hoping to bite or snag him. Erebos uses this chance to twist to the left again, and the eagle misses him.
* Erebos tries to use his dark magic on Oizys, intending to use the corruption magic to manifest pain all over her body.]
Image Credit


@Oizys

Oizys Posts: 134
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 7.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 17hh :: 2 HP: 73.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ker :: Philippine Eagle :: Curse Snow
#6


Her vision eventually begins to clear, and she relinquishes her hold on Ker's eyes. Her buck doesn't meet with quite the success that she'd hoped, but she is already counting herself lucky that she managed to land even one blow upon their esteemed General. Oizys does not admire many people, but she admires Erebos. He is the embodiment of the cold, calculated killer; she wonders if he's taken a life, or if his stoic demeanour is all an act to cover the squishy mess of feels inside.

She knows exactly what that's like.

Suddenly there's a screech from overhead. In the chaos of having her eyes stolen by her gargoyle bonded, Ker has allowed her defences to lapse. The first she knows about the kitsune's attack is when the savage teeth rake into her skin, carving through feathers and into flesh, into muscle. Alas, that is the perils of their bond; whilst Oizys can utilise her companion's assets at will, it also means she can feel all of the raptor's pain, too. The eruption of agony through her body makes her grit her teeth and hiss, landing from her buck and standing still for a moment as she imagines cuts erupting on her own flesh as they do on Ker's. The unfortunate eagle finds her chest and underbelly badly gored by Orsino's teeth, loosening several feathers and sending her flight path into an ungainly zig-zag as she fights to escape the fox's clutches. Ker desperately tries to right herself and regain control of her wings, but her vision is growing blurry with the blood loss and her strength saps with worrying speed. A stalactite looms ahead of her, like a dagger of black rock in her path.

In the darkness, Oizys hears a scream, a thud, then silence.

Panic grips her and she swings to her right, staring into the gloom in an attempt to see what fate has befallen her bonded. There's an eerie quiet in her mind where the raptor's consciousness usually lies, and for the first time in months, the gargoyle is....scared. It is an odd feeling, easily mistaken with the tiredness she feels from the long and arduous fight - weak limbs, sweating skin, frothing mouth. She cannot convince herself that these symptoms are purely down to tiredness, though....she's a sweating, shaking wreck because her Ker is hurt, unconscious, maybe dead. Surely not dead...she can feel some thread from the eagle even if it's faint and pitifully weak.

From fear comes anger. How dare that bastard fox cause such wicked injury to the queen of the skies? Oizys whirls around, ready to strike....then, without warning, there's pain. It's abject, ungodly torture that harks back to Toulouse's magic, although this time she didn't need to look Erebos in the eye to incite his ire....she throws back her head and screams, shaking the cave around them, making her throat raw with the volume of the sound, yet nothing brings any relief from the unbearable agony that the General has inflicted upon her.

Weakly, the mare staggers forwards to where she hopes Erebos will be, and lunges blindly forwards with her horns to try and stab any part of him she can reach. Her eyes are screwed shut with the pain, yet deep beneath the abject torment he's inflicted on her, she can still feel the bubblings of rage born from his savage attack upon Ker. Her scream turns to a guttural snarl as she summons her magic, and the air next to her suddenly crackles with static....from nothingness, a bear made of sizzling blue-black electricity bursts into existence, its jaws open in a silent roar and its bulk so formidable that it matches Oizys for size. Exhaustion overwhelms the young mare, a combination of Ker's grievous wounds, her own lack of stamina and the body-destroying agony that Erebos is inflicting on her, yet there's enough about her to command the bear to move. Her limbs are shaky, her vision blurry, but dammit, she will impress her General!

The creature lumbers forwards, hunting for Erebos's front - it lifts its great bulk, aiming to wrap its sizzling forelegs around the stallion's shoulders in a torturous hug, whilst its jaws snap towards his face in an attempt to inflict vicious shock-burns there, too. Oizys knows that one touch from her spark-beasts is enough to give a nasty shock, and even if this fight ends in defeat for her, she's determined that Erebos will feel her wrath at least once.

___________

@Erebos !

3/3 - 747 words

image credit

[ the gargoyle queen ]
OIZYS IS ALWAYS RATED M FOR STRONG LANGAUGE IN HER POSTS





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