E R I S

The herd meeting was over, however the Empress still had time to note those who looked as if they hadn't had a decent training match in a while. The Empress had wondered to just outside the Marsh, here the trees where thinner and fewer, and no evil should lurked in the waters that were at her feet. Even the air seemed less toxic out here. A gentle wind blew a few specs of rain onto her face. Chuckling, the Queen of blood turned her blue eyes to the sky, the rain was falling lightly after the storm, however it was cold and each drop that pattered onto her face was refreshing. This mare had always enjoyed the rain, when it fell Eris felt the comfort of home. In fact her father often told her that she was born in the rain. Perhaps it was the only thing that she could connect to her long lost mother.

Facing the world again, Eris pondered which member of The Asylum she would most like to beat up. There was the worm that she would rather like to eat instead of just beating him up. However that would have to wait until they won their war. There was the huge moron that swore a lot, his very presence made her want to stab out own eyes with sticks. However his bulk and brute strength would also be handy in the event of them invading a herd land.

So she would have to let the members decide for themselves. Clearing her throat, Eris raised her girlish voice to the air. "I am looking for a training partner." Her voice soared through the air and the Empress fell silent. Now it was just the waiting game, her smirk was in place and her attention was settled on The trees of The Marsh, waiting for the first mad man to appear and hopefully accept her offer.

Eris longed for the taste of blood, her own and others. It was in her nature, the need to feel flesh smack flesh, hooves digging, driving and damaging. Flesh being bitten, hairs being ripped out from the body. It was all great fun while it was happening, although after the battle was over the rain would clean the wounds and wash the blood away. Eris was a seasoned killer, however when it came to just training...well she was a novice like the rest of her herd. It was embarrassing that the leader of mad men only knew how to kill. Here she would prove herself, here was where fate would change and Eris would learn how to fight.

"Come out, come out where ever you are."

" "
Words :: 446 [800 max] Post :: [0 | 3]
Setting: Spectral Marsh, lightly raining.
Open to Asylum members only.
Let me know if you want OOC critique.

They built my city on top of a grave,
Now the dead roam the street like a rotting parade,
Quarantined and forgotten for days,
These are the stories of those who have gotten away

Devotion and reliability mixed with inquisitiveness billow as sweet as the south wind into the icy undertones of her core, twist and fall with the waves of rain, even as the precipitation in the air has dried into a drizzle, even as droplets form rivulets down her spine and drip down her dome. They create constellations in long lashes, and cut through marrow as butter. The Seeker's flesh turns to ice, and frost touches the delicate curves of her bodice with touches of the arctic's kiss the dark woman has not been exposed to on this eve. The wintry mourn is bizarre upon a summer's eve far too chill, and the woman wonders if perhaps the haughty Lord of the Sun has abandoned his throne, left it to perish, break down and be crushed beneath the hooves of Time, to crumble with age and lack of affections cast unto it's surface.

The drizzle washes away the woman's sins, it exalts her, sanctify's the curse of the charcoal Lady, washes across her as the waves of the broad, everlasting, never-ending sea, bathes her in invigorating spray and calms the screams of her mind, the rippling frustrations of those whom she holds dear, the utter confusion and chaos that wage wars in her glass heart, sharpened daggers that crush against sinew and pounds the wisps of sanity into powders of grain and dust, sand and froth, and she floats away upon the wind, a child-like elation raising forth from breath that causes steam to form in the freezing oxygen that fills her lungs with crisp harshness and soothe the hungers of the devil that boils within her bosom and threatens to spring forth as some deranged monster, to pillage and consume, wreck and fulfill the thirst that rises within its veins.
In the midst of the bleak world stands forth a brilliance of aureate and sanquine, specked as that of a robin's egg, familiar and riddled with camaraderie, the vermilion Queen, Eris. The Lady of Death.

With striving elegance the charcoal Lady moves forth, a flitting smile dancing across her maw, a dull shade in response to the opulence of her Queen, affection boiling within veins and forming clots that shall end her as time moves onward, for it waits naught, it waits for no mortal, no man nor woman, no Lady of Death, and soon the curse shall be wiped from the Earth itself, sent forth to the demons of Hell for punishment upon her crimes. And yet for now, the mistress rearranges her liquid core for her Lady, gleeful as that of a young girl with the visions of flowers and ballerinas in her mind. The mistress of discord and the Seeker of the cursed, a intriguing experience to view, and further to explore, who shall win the duel on this eve? Shall the Goddess of Fate frown upon her, send tidings of despair in her wake? The Seeker has fought the Werewolf and has proved unvictorious: Does the Seeker dare face the wife of Thanatos in confrontation and combat? A pause, and the woman gazes with a soft expression upon her Queen, mischievous intent darkens her violet orbs and she allows a gentle laugh to lilt as birdsong into the rainy air.
"We meet once more, Lady Death."

Liquids takes solidity, and the Seeker moves forth, slim bones and refined muscles bunching beneath thin flesh, yet the Seeker is anything but regarded as the weak. Power and control are built into each electronic step, a dance of war, and the song beats within her eardrums as the morning cries of larks. "Dance with me?"
The dangerous slow dance quickens with the beats of her bloodied heart, concentrations as she aims to breeze past the Lady and scrape the aureate flesh with a twist of the dome along her external intercostal muscle, a abrupt yank of the dome as she makes her way forwards aimed to snap teeth into her Queen's croup. The attacks are made within short succession of one another, light and almost gentle, she means no harm on this eve.
Her Queen shall live for many more years, with the softest of bruising if her song tells true.

So then, doll, the dance of the Queen and her subject took place, on a gloomy mourn of dew drops and storms, as was customary of their bittersweet meetings.
The tale of a loyal subject and the Queen of Death.
She finds it perplexing.

And she waits.


— WC: 752 words 4200 characters
Attack: [ 1 | 2 ]
Defense: [0 | 1
:: Circuta lopes towards Eris at an even pace, then lunges forwards along her left side, dipping her head and aiming to lightly scrape her external intercostal muscle with her horn. Yanks her head and neck
upwards once more as she passes by in an attempt to bite at Eris' croup.


Circuta</style>
who's the killer in the crowd -</style>

E R I S

A voice speaks to her, the tone is light and friendly. Eris lets out a girlish giggle, and turns too look over the dark mare. "Circuta." Eris chuckles once agin as her blue eyes are settled on the supple form of The Asylum's Spy. She was quite a the pretty thing, it would be a shame to muss her pretty hair. "I really should have known." The mare bows her head as the option to dance is presented. "I'll take lead." Then the dance began.

The spy of The Asylum begins to pick up her pace which cases Eris to smirk. The dove was actually going for it. Not once do her eyes move from the target. With the elegance of a true lady, the mare Eris had come to respect begins to make her move. Circuta's hooves brush along the ground, her movements are enchanting, sweet and gentle.
The Empress knows that to win this fight, she will have to use their height differences to her advantage. Being the shorter one in the battle had, at times, proven most useful. The great crown upon Circuta's head began to take aim, Eris grins as she sees the mare's plan unfolding. The entire left hand side of Eris' body could soon be coming under fire. Knowing that the horn would most likely come into contact with the area around her ribs, The Empress plants her front hooves firmly on the ground.

The spy of the Asylum has to bend down to make contact with Eris' body...would she be expecting to reach up? No. Waiting until the very last moment was painful, Eris was used to taking action. Still, she would wait...wait until...NOW! Her back hooves lift from the ground, The Empress' goes against gravity to avoid the attack for the Spy, there is power, precision and grace in her movements. As her back bends and almost her entire body soared upwards Eris can't help but feel smug. At first The Empress thought she was home free, that she had evaded that purple horn completely, however after a moment The Empress felt it's bite.

Along her side there was now a scrape. The sharp point of the horn had done it's work, her flesh had broken and given way to the slick shape of the horn. The damage had been done from just below her ribs, towards her back left bicep in a diagonal movement. Hissing in pain the Empress held herself in the air for a few moments longer. The following bite had also made contact, although it had missed her croup entirely and instead Circuta's delicate teeth had grazed on the tender mussels around her leg. Angry now, yet at the same time feeling the pleasure of pain, Eris had retaliation on her mind.

The attacks had not been particularly vicious, Eris decided after she made her attack, she would scald the dark raven for going easy on her. Only a few seconds had come to past before the Empress could feel gravity taking control once again, she let it help mould her attack. After all he Spy was just waiting. It was almost too easy. Swinging her back legs around to the left, Eris aimed to scape the back of her hooves down Circuta's left shoulder. Tensing her rump and back legs, Eris forced her self to come absolutely crashing back down to the earth. It was all so much fun, after all, The Empress was still smirking. As her body came soaring back to the earth, her mind was ticking, ready to really get bloody with the spy. Once Eris was safety on the ground again, she decided that she too would sneak in another attack.

Her mouth opened, teeth bared and the Empress whipped her head around. An eye for an eye...kind of. Eris was now attempting to rip a chuck of flesh off from the Spy's belly with her teeth. Eris wanted blood to fill her mouth, she wanted to feel the warmth and sample the iron...the rusty taste of Circuta's life blood. Blue eyes were wide but still focused on their target and Eris hoped that when the smirk returned to her face, it would be a bloody one. "Come on!" Snarled Eris after. "Hit me hard!"

" "
Words :: 717 [800 max] Post :: [1 | 3]

They built my city on top of a grave,
Now the dead roam the street like a rotting parade,
Quarantined and forgotten for days,
These are the stories of those who have gotten away

Concentration and precision are meticulous in the crafting of the spies mind, retaliation and thoughts of the possible turning conks and gears within her core. The Lady had written maps of her Queen within her minds eye, and yet calculations and ideals were letdown with the bitter taste of defeat as no resistance met her sword. For her Queen had found a loophole in her clever design, and danced through it as smooth as precipitation on the back of a avian's feathers. Back curved and hindquarters lifted, hooves kicking up damp, dark Earth as they went, raising high above her lowered dome. And then, as her neck made it's way upwards, she felt flesh rip and rusty blood splash upon her tongue, vibrancy in hue that tinted her alabaster maw rosy, vermilion tinges against ivories.
A confusing mix of excitement and guilt flash through her veins, for has she not just injured her Queen? Lady Death? But the idea that she has caused blood to clot and bruises to form later on this eve sends a chill of bliss and thrill along her spine, the faintest of shivers along her frame.

It is the distraction of her mind that causes her to miss the woman's retaliation, daggers disguised as hooves slamming into her withers on her port side, even as she passes her Queen. Bruises will form later, and her withers shall ache with the force of the blows, brilliant shades of blue and indigo and vermilion, and she finds the idea fascinating, intriguing as to how they shall flower, blooms and petals to stain her obsidian apparel. Punishment and reprisal must be taken in return for her injuries, and the adrenaline that flows within her blood causes her to be on edge, agitated, for she does not want a replay of the fight with the Fox. The thud of hooves upon muddied Earth draws her attention, neck whipping around to gaze upon her Queen, violent, heated indigo clashing with vicious cerulean.
Golden maw zipped forward as the head of a poisonous snake, ivories gleam, and in a sudden wrench and flurry of hooves the Lady has turned to place her more fleshy hindquarters towards the Queen's dome. Pain and agony joined as one, flesh and muscle sunk into by harsh teeth. She feels the thin flesh of her bloodline shred underneath the ferocity in which they are placed, wine dribble down her clammy flesh as her rump takes most of the damage, an automatic yank of hooves upwards in a kick towards her Queen's face as nerves spasm beneath bloodied hide. Stop, stop, stop, they scream, and in return to their pain, she reacts. Lyrics reach harks, dull and distant in the blood that roars in her mind.
"As you wish, my Queen."

Looping once more, her hooves splash in gathered water, dirtied and damp, and she gathers herself into a fast-paced trot, there is too little room between them to break out into a canter. Neck extended, snake-like, her maw reaches towards her Queens nasal bone. Incisors readied, seeking to scrape along cheeks and thin skin, followed up by her dome curving as sword seeks withers. As she moves forth, quickening the dance, she passes a hoof out towards her Queen's hind left. Is it not rude to attempt to trip up your dance partner? The Lady would prefer not to answer that question, doll.
A pivot around to her Queen's right side, her chest raising, followed by long pillars as hooves seek to slam into loins and back, dig deep, and result in blood and carnage.

It takes two to tango.
And she happens to be very, very good at fast-paced dancing.


— WC: 617 words 3471 characters
Attack: [ 2 | 2 ]
Defense: [0 | 1
:: Circuta, distracted, takes damage unto her left shoulder from the blows Eris inflicted upon her. As Eris lands upon solid ground once more, Circuta whips her head around at the same time as she. Seeing where Eris was headed, frantic, she turns her hindquarters towards her, and takes damage upon her lower rump instead. Reacting to the pain by nerves, she kicks outward with her hind legs, aiming to kick Eris in the face, in a defensive move to drive her away. Circling around, she quickens into a trot, aiming to bite along her nasal bone, then curving her neck down once more to attempt a slash into her withers. As she passes by her left side, she places a hoof near Eris' hind left one, attempting to trip her up if she moves. Pivoting around to Eris' right side, she draws herself upward in a rear, trying to slam both hooves down into her loins and back.


Circuta</style>
who's the killer in the crowd -</style>