the Rift


antichrist II

Toulouse Posts: 146
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 8.0 | def: 11.0 | dam: 4.0
Gelding :: Equine :: 17hh :: Six HP: 74 | Buff: ENDURE
Boomslang :: Green Ratsnake :: Paralyze Neverrmind
#1
[Image: toul1_by_neverrmind-db0nrbo.png]
BLOOD IS ON YOUR TONGUE AS WELL AS YOUR HANDS //

North was a place he had not ever ventured, and yet, it had become his home. A brilliant tempest was brewing above, the brontide rippling over each cloud until shaking the ground he tread upon. This convinced him more tha anything that journeying so far had actually been worth something, because oh, how he loved a summer storm.
The archaic soul laced his way forward over the craggy rocks and drenched grass. As he understood, this area was generally covered in a thick layer of fog, and it was only with the hot climate of Tallsun that these rocks and the ridgeline above were now partly exposed.

These fields had been where he found that sickly doe; the doctor's lover. Asha? Amah? Arah.
It was as he continued to wind his way upward along the filipendulous, cloud-breathing staircase that he began to think eerily about what he would find up in the heavens today, or what he would have had he left that wretched fae for dead...

The staircase to heaven was seemingly endless, and it was damn-near impossible to keep his eyes averted as each stray rock made it's deathly descent down, down and down through the sea of cloud below. Toulouse was sure that no one knew how far the fall was, nor how far one's bones would separate from one another on impact with the ground below, or even how anyone could be recognised after such a feat.
Simply put; Toulouse was not intent on falling from heaven today.

And finally, the endless steps turned to solid rock, the rock turned to soil, and the soil turned to the wondrous expanse he knew as the Heavenly Fields. The most delicate and diaphanous sheet of sweat lay over his slick summer coat, causing it to shimmer with the surrounding greens and whites of the atmosphere. The blackened grey sky and the afternoon sun attempting to peek through was an impressive sight, especially against the dotted trees standing as silent sentinels at the plateau's edge.
A whip-like crack of lightning decorated the sky, slicing through any sound attempting to reach his ears, and within a matter of seconds came the great, warm drops of rain.
A storm from the south he would presume, and maybe even the first of summer rains.

It was certainly not unusual for a storm to energise Toulouse, and as Boomslang slipped quietly over the thief's back, he began to itch for a battle.
The wind and rain pulled his curled mane upward and around with an inspiring violence— it was as if it wished to tease him further.
The frustration was next to emerge, erupting in a great roar and a stomp of his delicately shod feet, the diamonds and spikes upon which glinting and chinking against the natural debris below. A challenger was sure to come forth; there was always at least one other in this god-forsaken piece of 'heaven'.

But alas, impatience soon came to catch him, and it was with another great war-cry that the gelding broke away from his place under the only remaining shaft of light and galloped eastward. Nares flared in an attempt to catch the scent of just about anyone, Toulouse was soon to catch onto the scent of a creature who was slightly familiar. Both her name and all of her titles escaped him at that moment, and he knew only that she had some fairly intense opinions on the current status of the Dragon's Throat (opinions that she had no qualms in sharing).
Not a moment longer a woman was spotted across the fog and rain, a cold strike of lightning illuminating her frame and making her known.
"I know you" Toulouse uttered, placing his left foot forward in anticipation for his attack.

Not another word was spoken; the gelding's search was over. With a great huff, a snort that echoed in time with the thunder and brontide, Toulouse released the contents of his lungs and lurched forward, bowling his body in the direction of the Sea Soul. His attack was simple and generally fool-proof; one that came with the great privilege of having horns.
His plan of attack was to plow into Sikeax's ribcage directly on the right side, and all with his tendril of horns.
And so begun his attack. Toulouse galloped at full speed towards her with his lofty crown held low and strong against the wind and rain. With great precision he had aimed, and pushed with all the strength of a desert-born horse, attempting with all his might to hit his desired target.


attack 1/3
words; 763
setting; the heavenly fields in late afternoon/early evening and a great storm is brewing!
summary; toulouse attempts to ram sikeax on the right side of her ribcage
damage; none yet
@sikeax

stock image l love, space
I AM THE KEY TO THE LOCK IN YOUR HOUSE—
DO NOT CRY OUT OR HIT THE ALARM
YOU KNOW WE'RE FRIEND TIL WE DIE—

EITHER WAY YOU TURN, I'LL BE THERE
OPEN UP YOUR SKULL, I'LL BE THERE
CLIMBING UP THE WALLS

SO LOCK THE KIDS UP SAFE TONIGHT
CLOSE THE EYES IN THE CUPBOARD


Messages In This Thread
antichrist II - by Toulouse - 03-11-2017, 04:15 PM
RE: antichrist II - by Blu - 04-05-2017, 08:02 PM

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