the Rift

Bad Wings [Azulee]

Dalibor Posts: 48
Hidden Account atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 15.3 :: 9 HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
I will fail you, of that I'm sure

Ampere had neglected to show for their agreed-upon spar, and now had disappeared entirely. Dalibor paced angrily, not surprised that the blue, psycho lightning bitch had turned out to be a piss-poor leader.

She was immature, self-absorbed and adolescent in her behavior.

Beauty did not a good leader make.

Africa had remained - he wondered if the one-winged mare held the absent one any ill-will - and a new Sultana had been put in Ampere's place. Someone named Sohalia. That this was a matriarchy rankled Dalibor's feathers. He was not sexist by any means, but an overabundance of one gender in any ruling position meant skewed leadership, more often than not. A strong male presence was needed as an adviser or...something.


There had been rumors of a tournament for deciding the Throat's military leader of sorts and he'd considered joining. But it'd never materialized, likely because of Ampere's departure. No matter. He'd lined up a new sparring partner, and this one better not fall through.

The rust-and-white roan continued to pace, waiting for the overly-large winged mare he'd met on his way to actually joining the Dragon's Throat, Azulee. Now he could get her back a little for lying about her name and telling it to him backwards, clever though impudent that was.

He snorted, watching the sun dip lower on the horizon. If she didn't hurry up, they wouldn't have any daylight left to fight in. Dusk was rapidly approaching and a deep orange and red hue had taken hold of the sleepy sky. The sun was massive where earth met sky, but it burned low, offering no blinding light to those who gazed in that direction. The temperature was cooler, too; it was already hot enough in the Throat. No need to be sparring at midday where they might melt and their feathers fry if they soared too close to the sun.

Azulee might have that happen if she attained any real altitude, he thought. Dalibor still wondered at how her wings were so fucking big. It was almost comical. They were likely powerful, though, and he certainly didn't underestimate them; especially going into a spar. His eyes rose and searched the dimming sky once more, wondering where this mare was.

Hurry the hell up, already.


"talk talk talk"

WC: 379 | Magic and Companions allowed | (0/3)

OOC: Setting is the Thistle Meadow before dusk, banking on the longer-lit summer days. Breezy and cool. Regular spar.

Azulee Posts: 62
Dragon's Throat Warrior atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.2 hands :: 6 years :: Orangemoon HP: 65.0 | Buff: NOVICE

her excitement at the prospect of combat is palpable; she can feel veins of static licking up her heels as sleek, raven feathers cradle the hot air, her enthusiasm having subliminally conjured forth the magic which has become so intrinsic to the storm maiden's identity. voltaic eyes shimmer with newfound zeal as she casts her gaze upon the one whom would be playing the role of sparring-partner this evening. an impish grin purses her lips, the sable curls of her windswept hair whisked haphazardly about the panes of her peppered face.

This is going to be fun.

tawny wings flare outward from lightning-etched flanks as azulee makes her descent. she alights about two or three strides' distance from him with a brusqueness typical of the young warrioress, though there is a fierce sort of grace in the maneuver, none the less. she regards the man with an impervious expression, slender ears rotated forward like a pair of saucers. she does not bother to furl her wings, instead holding them at her side, suspended at half-mast. the plumes sweep the soil below; what specimens they are. she displays them proudly, like an amazon would her blade. these are her most prime weapons, and a testament to those wild-eyed fireslayers and weaponmasters, the samurais, star breathers and ardent generals whose blood pulses through the valves of her feral heart.

but a moment passes when a vibrant simper splits her lips like lightning does a night sky. leonine tail sweeps the air like a flag in her wake, as if wagging; though she seems outwardly poised, a lioness wags her tail just before sinking tooth and claw into her prey. "let's begin."

in an instant, she is in motion, muscles bulging beneath taut skin as she coaxes her limbs into action. sable wings extend from sculpted flanks, primaries flushing wide more out of reflex than any real functionality, nimble hooves easily finding purchase on the sturdy terrain underfoot. she hurls her body at him like a projectile flung from a catapult, teeth bared and brows knit tightly in exertion as she lifts her forelimbs so that her cloven hooves might strike him in the lower neck region– jolts of static have begun to well around them in her excitement, and should the attack prove successful, he will feel more than simply blunt impact.

simultaneously, sooty lips curl back to expose the grimy slabs of stained teeth as they come lashing out unapologetically toward the stallion's face. though an injury to the face will prove more devastating than would an injury to any other part of the body, as sensitive and vital a region as it is, even the most basic of fighters know to shield it. if she misses his face, she at least hopes to clasp her teeth onto some part of him. all the while she seeks to buffet him with her wings, thrashing those massive instruments of flight toward him in a synchronized duo, aiming for his neck and shoulder region on both sides of his body. veins of static lick up each plume, their voltage fed by adrenaline and sheer fervor. she knows these are her most powerful features, and seeks to use them to her advantage.

but however great the level of effort with which she commits her assault, she has devoted little formulation to her charge, instead going off blind instinct and hoping blunt force is enough. she is inexperienced, haughty enough to believe size and sex and age counts for nothing in this particular scenario.

[ 1 / 3 ] — 590 words

Summary ; Azulee charges at Dalibor head on and attempts to strike him in the lower neck/chest area while also snapping toward his face/muzzle with her teeth. Meanwhile, she tries to savage him with her wings by thrashing him on both sides of his body in the neck/shoulder region. She is also using this magic:

:: [Magic: Shock | Arcs of electricity well around her hooves and at the tips of her feathers, running off in jolts. Shocks upon contact. ]
:: [Restrictions | Though some sparks are always present, they increase with her emotional state and/or the amount of static present. Not able to direct the current in a particular direction.]

ooc ; message me for clarification! it's been a while since I last rp'd horses



     the grave looks cold, but we're still young
image by lunarblues | table by phantom
hard mode—HP: 65/65

physical force and magic is permitted to be used on Azulee at any time provided it does not involve powerplay (unless specified otherwise); please contact me before attempting to kill.
please tag me!

Official Posts: 847
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
3 weeks have passed. This battle defaults to Azulee.

Azulee has earned 0.5 VP.

Official Posts: 847
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Spar is continuing, 0.5VP deducted from Azulee.

Dalibor Posts: 48
Hidden Account atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 15.3 :: 9 HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE

Dalibor's hawkish eyes locked on to the lightening-assed mare with the ginormous wings as she finally approached, impatiently pawing at the ground with his gold-streaked hoof.

About damn time.

She'd be pretty, he decided, if he could get past her wings. The dark coloring she sported was pleasant on the eyes, and her form was athletic and strong, if a bit masculine. The stallion could appreciate the slight androgyny of her build; after all, it meant she'd probably be a half-decent fighter.


She'd be slower than he was, with those gigantic fucking canopies mounted on her shoulders, and he wondered how she wasn't top-heavy as hell and incapable of moving around at all. But he supposed he'd seen stranger things in his nine years.

Not by much, though.

Azulee's wings were out, and on instinct, Dalibor extended his as well to make himself appear larger than he was. It meant little, here, since he would never overpower her presence with his own - but he did it anyway. He wasn't afraid of her, let alone intimidated. She was a child, and what did children know of battle? Returning her coy little smile with a teeth-baring grin of his own, raptorial eyes went to-and-fro, watching her tail.

The stallion knew what that meant, and tensed his muscles, feeling the adrenaline starting to rush through him, the excitement just before battle, the utter thrill of knowing you were about to hurt but didn't know how much - and would someone die? Maybe, but it wouldn't be you, of course.

Oh yes. This was what he lived for.

She indicated verbally they should begin and his grin dialed down to a smirk. "I did that before you were even a thought in the back of your parents' minds," the warrior returned, crouching a little in preparation for whatever came next.

The mare shot forward with speed, but Dalibor knew he was quicker. So, perhaps out of haughtiness and strategy alike, he waited a tick before choosing how he would avoid her first attack. Azulee was coming at him like a barely controlled explosion and he expected the next few slips of time would be hectic.


Rearing up when she drew close, the warrior sought to neutralize her first attack by making one of his own. Dalibor was slightly larger than the mare he was fighting, his limbs longer. She wanted to hit him around his chest with a hoof, and he wanted her to fail. So he struck out as he drew his body up and away from her reach, intending to crush the hoof from his longer forelimb squarely into her chest and give the muscle there a punishing blow before the attack from her shorter leg could ever reach him.

If it landed, he hoped the force behind his kick was such that it would numb the muscle beneath and briefly cripple her movement. At the very least, it might halt her advancement.

Dalibor hadn't the time to focus on the outcome of that attack, however; Azulee's teeth came at him at the same time her fucking gigantor wings closed in around him. Even in the heat of the moment, the older male just couldn't fathom how the hell she even moved the feathered appendages. Not that his wonder helped him in any way, and he knew as much: grimacing and snapping his head away, he felt her teeth scrape at his cheek as he drew his own wings up to protect himself from her much larger ones.

Also not exceptionally helpful. The force from one of her blows knocked him off balance during his front half's descent to the ground, succeeding in turning him violently to his left. Figuring what the hell, he might as well go with the momentum, Dalibor continued the turn and gave a swift and vicious buck towards Azulee's face before he put all four hooves to the ground and created space between himself and her mutant wings.

Those things are fucking strong, he mused as he lightly moved his right feathered appendage about to test the effects of her blow. It hurt, but he would live. Turning back to face his opponent, Dalibor's predatory eyes narrowed, his cheek smarting from her bite.

Her wings were her most powerful weapon, but also her largest target.

He'd make her regret having them.


"talk talk talk"

WC: 727 | (1/3) | Summary: Dalibor rears and tries to hit Azulee in the chest before her static-laced hoof touches him. After he's hit with her wings, he uses the momentum from the blow to whirl around and try to buck and hit her face before he puts space between them.

I will fail you, of that I'm sure

Sevin the Sucky, I mean are you a # or vacuum? Posts: 161
OOC Account
Mare :: Other :: 5'5" :: 25
@[Azulee]- 3 week timeline ends in 3 days, as a reminder :D

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
@[Official] it's been over 3 weeks since @[Azulee] replied.
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode

Official Posts: 847
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Azulee has failed to post in the proper timeline. Default to Dalibor. He is awarded 0.5 VP

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