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07-01-2016, 02:39 PM
It's a clash, like waves breaking on rock. The rain and his opponent's movement prevent the solid lock that Seanan wanted but it doesn't lessen the victory he feels as his teeth hit hair and hide, with solid muscle beneath. It's only when he feels the mountain he's struck move that instinct kicks in. His hooves slide and scramble on the wet grass as he comes back to all fours, shoving himself back away from the titan, avoiding the the type of body to body crush that he would undoubtedly lose. He doesn't have the weight to win that. All he can see in the intermittent flashes of lightening are the clash of teeth and red eyes blazing in the stranger's white-blazed face. But he's trying to back away and it's hard to see what is black and what is simply dark.
The blaze. He focuses on the stranger's white face- with no distance between them he can make that out well enough and even in the dark it is more visible than the rest. He realizes distantly that he has escaped great harm, and yet it does not bother him. His blood is high. Other than thunder all he can hear is the drumming of his own heart, fierce music. He shakes his head hard to fling his short, water-logged forelock from his face. For once he does not feel like he is drowning, despite the rain. The fire in his belly burns his lungs clear and makes the wind he draws in feel like the breath of the desert. He wonders why he is fighting now. Storms are the time to wait, a time of quiet and peace. Waiting for new life to begin.
The rain pounds his back and neck and Seanan knows that if he backs off too far he will lose the advantage of his position. He may not be able to see, but his opponent must be damned near blind. He does not sportingly offer to move, to put them on equal footing. This is not a gentleman's sport. They do not fight for land or honor or women. They fight as men.
He doesn't know what the titan fights for. Seanan fights to lose. He loses himself in feeling of muscles rippling beneath flesh, the metallic taste of adrenaline on the back of his tongue, the tunnel vision and the blissful focus that makes everything else unimportant.
No past. No future.
He cannot think of him as an enemy- this stranger has done nothing to wrong him, and indeed Seanan even feels some kinship to him. They are testing each other, are they not? There is something to be said for that, in his mind. Two acts he knows of force two individuals into this kind of intimacy- sex and combat.
He moves in a quick lunge, trying to close the distance he had put between them and wheel to meet the leviathan head. He can feel the change in the angle of the rain on his body and he has half a heartbeat to wonder if it is a mistake. His hind hooves slide on the mud and grass and he does not trust the footing enough to dare anything showy. Instead he lunges, attempting to come chest to chest with the behemoth and force him backwards. His teeth snap are the blazing red eyes, striving for cheek or ear- trying to force the massive head up and away. He does not really think it will work- the other called for this challenge and does not seem inexperienced. Still, if he can keep him off balance then he has a chance. His skin still seems to recoil at the though of such physical closeness but he clamps down the instinct. His fore-hooves strike in quick, sharp downward motions, trying to skim the hard edges down the front of the black beast's canons.
He has done this before. For a moment he does not see rain and darkness but glaring sun, amber sands. In a heartbeat his opponent has a dozen coat colors, a dozen styles of body each slimmer and smaller than the one he truly faces tonight. Then lightning flashes and his reality is again the storm.
And he remembers that he fights for nothing.
OOC:// @Volterra
Words: 690
2/3 attacks 0/1 closing defense
^.^ Thanks for the comments! So I wasn't really sure how to handle this with the roll being what it was. I tried hard to leave it very vague but I'm a little worried that I didn't acknowledge Volterra's attacks enough? I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts! I'm kind of proud of myself for using more words this time XD
The blaze. He focuses on the stranger's white face- with no distance between them he can make that out well enough and even in the dark it is more visible than the rest. He realizes distantly that he has escaped great harm, and yet it does not bother him. His blood is high. Other than thunder all he can hear is the drumming of his own heart, fierce music. He shakes his head hard to fling his short, water-logged forelock from his face. For once he does not feel like he is drowning, despite the rain. The fire in his belly burns his lungs clear and makes the wind he draws in feel like the breath of the desert. He wonders why he is fighting now. Storms are the time to wait, a time of quiet and peace. Waiting for new life to begin.
The rain pounds his back and neck and Seanan knows that if he backs off too far he will lose the advantage of his position. He may not be able to see, but his opponent must be damned near blind. He does not sportingly offer to move, to put them on equal footing. This is not a gentleman's sport. They do not fight for land or honor or women. They fight as men.
He doesn't know what the titan fights for. Seanan fights to lose. He loses himself in feeling of muscles rippling beneath flesh, the metallic taste of adrenaline on the back of his tongue, the tunnel vision and the blissful focus that makes everything else unimportant.
No past. No future.
He cannot think of him as an enemy- this stranger has done nothing to wrong him, and indeed Seanan even feels some kinship to him. They are testing each other, are they not? There is something to be said for that, in his mind. Two acts he knows of force two individuals into this kind of intimacy- sex and combat.
He moves in a quick lunge, trying to close the distance he had put between them and wheel to meet the leviathan head. He can feel the change in the angle of the rain on his body and he has half a heartbeat to wonder if it is a mistake. His hind hooves slide on the mud and grass and he does not trust the footing enough to dare anything showy. Instead he lunges, attempting to come chest to chest with the behemoth and force him backwards. His teeth snap are the blazing red eyes, striving for cheek or ear- trying to force the massive head up and away. He does not really think it will work- the other called for this challenge and does not seem inexperienced. Still, if he can keep him off balance then he has a chance. His skin still seems to recoil at the though of such physical closeness but he clamps down the instinct. His fore-hooves strike in quick, sharp downward motions, trying to skim the hard edges down the front of the black beast's canons.
He has done this before. For a moment he does not see rain and darkness but glaring sun, amber sands. In a heartbeat his opponent has a dozen coat colors, a dozen styles of body each slimmer and smaller than the one he truly faces tonight. Then lightning flashes and his reality is again the storm.
And he remembers that he fights for nothing.
OOC:// @Volterra
Words: 690
2/3 attacks 0/1 closing defense
^.^ Thanks for the comments! So I wasn't really sure how to handle this with the roll being what it was. I tried hard to leave it very vague but I'm a little worried that I didn't acknowledge Volterra's attacks enough? I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts! I'm kind of proud of myself for using more words this time XD
All interactions are go, short of death and permanent crippling.
