Not the Good China!

the Rift

[JUDGED] Not the Good China!

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549

Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5

Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT

Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie

06-20-2016, 12:27 PM

sweet bitter words, unlike nothing I have heard:

My magic hits him square in his raggedy, old man backside, and I accelerate my pace as soon as I see the battle between body and mind begin, easily sealing the gap between us while he staggers and stumbles. Unlike Gaucho, the only other to feel the embrace of this peculiar magic, the elderly asshole doesn’t take it with any amount of stoicism at all. Rather, it’s the very opposite of the powerful warrior’s reaction; if I weren’t in the midst of teaching him a lesson about keeping his tongue under control (and the knives and arsenic dripping from his mouth weren’t directed at me), I might have even taken the time to admire the emotional sledgehammer that is his verbal eloquence.

As I pull in closer to him, hoping to slam one of my youthful shoulders into his obscenely tall and decrepit frame, I’m mostly laughing, small chuckles that fall in the downward beats of my hooves into the sun warmed grasses below. He thought that because he was old enough to be my great grandpa he could say whatever he wanted? As if. It’s an extremely faulty logic, and that he thinks I lack any honor for defending it is almost entirely humorous to me.

He does hit home with his insinuating that I might be unwanted. If he’d picked the bond with my sire to pick on, I might have kept on cackling at him like the old jester he is (silly appearance included!), but the ancient fucker is so spot on the nerve that I revoke my laughter in a snarl.

"Get ready to eat your four remaining teeth, ass-fuck," is not shouted, but is certainly said with some measure of force as I drop some of my speed for power, preparing to launch myself with what I imagine to be the impact of a free falling boulder into the exposed front half of the taunting goat man. Somehow, though, in mid-flight, even, a strange and invisible cord lashes to my thoughts, and pulls me astray of the mark. Instead of leaping into my foe, my legs carry me down his right side in a powerful and useless leap, very much against my will. Most peculiar about the entire experience is not losing control of myself (I do it to others, often), but that I seemed to like him while it was happening.

Oh, hell no.

If I hadn’t had the dusty fart’s previous declaration of “Father Sparky’s” gifts ringing in my ears (who would mock a God so callously?), I might blame the failure of my ramming assault on Duir’s battle naivety; our mind link keeps sending me flashes of thrill, fear, and wonder in random deluges, mostly because he’s never witnessed anything so exciting. This is my first fight with such a crippling distraction, having had few opportunities to teach my young friend about fighting in our first weeks together. The bond trills with worry as the ruddy midnight stag strikes my left barrel, towards the hip, with his hind hooves, but my opponent’s age is evident in the strength of the blow; while it scuffs my pretty black hide and leaves a bruise, it’s nothing compared to the pain I’ve felt before. My fawn, however, unleashes a small squeal of surprise in the distance, having not expected my pain to have been transferred to his mind at all.

I guess I’ll have to apologize to him later for not warning him, or even really thinking about it until now…

As evident by my scar riddled body, this isn’t my first rodeo. No sooner do I hear his hooves woomph into the ground than I kick out from my right side with my hind legs, before I’ve even really gathered where exactly he is after his buck. I do know I want to keep the skewering length of his dual horns away from me should he try to pivot back around, and that time wasted is time lost, so I quickly pull off a few clockwise steps and kick out again, following the cow-kick with a full fledged buck.

"I’d be saving my breath, old man," I taunt, attempting to pull back around in a clockwise direction to try and meet face to face him, golden eyes glowing with a need to hurt him more, "you’ll need it!"

2/3 | 728
[ Summary: Takes Albrecht's buck along his right side towards his bum; responds with a cow-kick, then a full strength buck after altering his angle slightly. Hopefully re-positions to face Albrecht. ]

sing along, mockingbird; you don't affect me.

Image by TheArtlex@DA