the Rift


[JUDGED] Fire burn and caldron bubble.

Ghost the Cadaverous Posts: 219
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16hh :: 6 years HP: 67 | Buff: ENDURE
Fantôme :: Grey Wolf :: None imi
#1
Deception and perfection are wonderful traits
One will breed love, the other hate


It was a weird sensation to fly without using ones wings. Although Ghost was quite capable to travel to the floating rock by herself, her curiosity had gotten the better of her and here she was, levitating up on a strange fluffy cloud. Her wings ruffled and the muscles twitched, she felt strange, almost insecure. Like she needed to cast her wings about her now lest she fall directly back to earth and ultimately to her death. It took a reasonable amount of self control for the young sprite to remain as still as she was without casting herself from the pretty white puff and fly there herself. Easy to say, Ghost wouldn't be using this mode of transportation again as she much preferred to push against the winds herself rather than be one with a cloud. There was also the fact that she was wide out in the open and quickly she could feel the notion of nakedness creep up on her. At least when she was flying, her dark bodice could dive behind the odd tree or round the corner of a mountain. In the end, however, the spy got to where she wanted to be and quite swiftly placed her hooves onto the more stable slab of rock with a sigh of relief. Indeed, no more cloud travelling for this banshee.

Stalking off, dark eyes observed her familiar surroundings and she noted the tent that belonged to the Hidden Falls. Her cloven hooves, however, took her in a more different direction and soon she found herself by a cluster of cherry trees, surrounded by a field of lush grasses. Apparantly the sky island was unaffected by the chills of Frostfall and instead remained in its paradise like state. The sun was creeping further down, it would soon be late in the evening and Ghost found the lengthening shadows much to her liking. It was this time, the deep breath before nightfall, that Ghost loved the most. Too late for dewy thoughts in the chilly winter sun and not quite late enough to lose sight completely. The best battles were fought under this kind of light.

She placed her body in the shadow of a dead tree, only the flicker of red on her wings clearly visible and quietly, she waited. Like a tiger sat by a waterhole, she waited. Only hope was visible in her dark eyes that prayed on the horizon waiting for the silhouette of someone who'd take up her unseen gauntlet and dance war with her until the moon came out in full.



Spar vs @[Argen]
Unlimited Timeline. 3 Posts Each + Defence
Time: Late Eveningish.
Place: Caela Insula.
*Note to admin. This is set before Ghost's rank change.
[0/3].
Let the heat of the sun
Reignite your memory
Because if we just turn and run
Let them fire the gun

❚ Force permitted, just don't kill her :3
❚ Please tag me!
❚ Pixel by Nyte

Argen Posts: 37
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.0
Stallion :: Equine :: 16 hh :: Four years HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE
Solomon :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Fire Breath Time
#2
Argen
There was magic rampant on the fields, plains, and mountains of Helovia. Surrounded by blue lava, Argen stood in wonder. However, when the clouds formed at his featherless heels and brought him rising into the sky, his eyes widened in surprise. Solomon screeched and flew circles around his bondmate as he rose, puffs of dark grey smoke rolling from his open jaws. The serpent did not stop his cry until Argen's hooves were planted firmly on the ground once more. Excitedly, Argen took off at a blasting gallop, away from the edge of the island. What was this place? Solomon flew after him in his frenzy, sleek bronze body shining in the dim sunlight. The pair did not slow until they reached a wide, grassy meadow. The sun above them painted the field in reds, oranges, and dull yellows. There was a limited window of sunlight left, and the pair did not know how they felt about being on this island after dark. What would happen here?

Carefully, with a few snorts and mumbles of discomfort, Argen lowered his head to munch on some of the luxurious grasses at his feet. His sandy blonde tail tapped agitatedly against his hocks, ears twitched quickly. Solomon landed on his croup, turning his royal crown to keep a lookout with bright, imitating yellow eyes. The dragon gave Argen images of an empty field, but suddenly a flash of red caught his keen attention. The bronze let out a small hiss and lowered his head, trying to focus in on whatever was hiding in the darkness of the cherry trees. Solomon was still young, and his senses were not as keen as they would be in his adult years, but he could see the faintest outline of wings and a horn stitched on the dark, dark silhouette of a horse.

Argen's head snapped up and he turned to face where Solomon had seen the creature. His ears snapped to attention towards it and his muscles tensed. With the instinct of hardened warriors before him, his powerful, thick neck began to arch and his chest puffed out some. "Show yourself, coward! You cannot keep the company of shadows forever!" He snarled, Solomon climbing up his mane to rest on his poll.




[WC: 376 | PC: 0/3 | Good luck imi! Feel free to have Ghost attack first.]

Image Credit




We are the long forgotten sons
And daughters that don't belong to anyone
We are alone under this sun
We work to fix the work that you've undone
</style>



please tag argen in all posts

Ghost the Cadaverous Posts: 219
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16hh :: 6 years HP: 67 | Buff: ENDURE
Fantôme :: Grey Wolf :: None imi
#3
Deception and perfection are wonderful traits
One will breed love, the other hate


He was a handsome thing, the young stallion that marched into view, wrapped in shades of bronze and white spots. Built like a rock and with an amber gaze that seemed to search the shadows, looking for her. Atop his head was a dragon that mirrored his bonded’s colours, Ghost hadn’t met many dragons and her dark eyes watched it with wariness. There was something about the way its claws curled and its sharp reptilian gaze that made her skin crawl, although lacking in size of those dragons told in legend, she wondered if it could breathe fire like in the old tales. If that was indeed the case then her steps would have to be quick and cautious, she didn’t much like the idea of being burnt to the ground writhing in searing pain. The equine kid may not be able to fly, but his little carnivorous friend certainly could. As her dark ears caught his words she allowed herself to step out from the shadow she had been lurking in and placed herself in full view for a moment, taking in the two strangers before her.

”But I am a shadow” her breathless voice replied and her granite gaze bored into his youthful features. There was perhaps a year between them if that, but she looked upon him condescendingly anyway, an easy way to taunt another into a fight. ”Do you know the nature of shadows?” She eerily laughed, not really expecting him to answer as she drifted into a float like trot and began to carefully circle him, folds of long tangled mane bouncing on her thin neck. She made no sudden movement, no dive to take a chunk out of him or attempt to fly into the air. She circled him for a few moments more, thinking and calculating, wondering if he’d dare attack her first or whether he was more patient. Was he headstrong or a strategist? Perhaps she would find out soon.

From what she could derive from her eyes alone he was a muscly lad not far from her own height, a battle of sheer strength she could not possibly win. A fight in the skies with a dragon wasn’t too appealing either, but if she was careful it might be her best shot. The not knowing made it frustrating and hard to concentrate as her mind tried to go through several different options her adversary could take, it was only after picking out what she thought would be her best move that her pace changed. A smile crept onto her features as she trotted to his right then suddenly dived left, picking up the pace into a fast canter whilst bearing her horn towards his barrel hoping he’d think she was going in for a quick stab. It was only when she was a couple of strides away did Ghost begin to slap down her wings and lift her feet from the ground, her aim to slice the boys stomach as she took to the air.

In the back of her mind she wondered how quick the dragon would be, after all, she’d never faced one in combat before. Its smaller size might mean it would beat her in an aerial battle of speed, but then again the darkening sky would play into her hands as it camouflaged her better. She didn’t know which was the best option. Perhaps the stallion had a different plan up his bronze sleeves in which case Ghost would soon find out.



[1/3 | 585 Words]
@[Argen]
Let the heat of the sun
Reignite your memory
Because if we just turn and run
Let them fire the gun

❚ Force permitted, just don't kill her :3
❚ Please tag me!
❚ Pixel by Nyte

Argen Posts: 37
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.0
Stallion :: Equine :: 16 hh :: Four years HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE
Solomon :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Fire Breath Time
#4
Argen

Argen took several steps forward, lowering his head and narrowing his eyes. The creature of darkness stepped from the shadows that had shrouded her body from him, and the young stallion snorted a retort to her words. She was not shadow, she was merely sinew and bone, just as he. He watched her carefully, his body turning to follow her as she trotted around him. Nothing about her demeanor screamed welcome, and Argen knew all-too well that a scuffle was going to break out here. The ground would provide good footing for a battleground, the winter not able to take hold of this foreign island in its frozen grasp. She had a glint in her eye that reminded him of the warlord Thraitar, the muddled mixture of hope and cruelty mixing into a deadly poison. While Argen had only spent a small amount of time with the warlord and his royal dragon, Lady, the roaned boy had spent countless hours training in battle under the heavy hand of his grandfather, and was well accustomed to what he must do in these moments. Solomon spread his powerful wings and jumped off Argen's back, letting a rift of warm air raise him above the dancing pair's heads. The bronze circled around, gliding on the late afternoon wind with ease. Lightning yellow eyes observed Ghost, matching his bondmates, and together the pair tore her apart as a corpse of weaknesses and strengths.

She was built carefully, her blood a defined mixture. She was thinner than him, built for agility and delicate movements over his powerhouse abilities. Her wings would only aid her in her quick movements, Argen guessed, like Solomon's wings propelled him forward and up powerfully. Argen knew he would need to keep her in close contact if he wanted to gain the upperhand with his strength. Argen noted to the dragon above that it was his job to keep the hybrid grounded. The bronze nodded in agreement. She exemplified her speed as she rushed forward, and Argen braced himself. Copper ears pinned against his neck and his muscled neck arched. The stallion's body tightened and lighted some, muscles preparing for springing attacks and the buffering of the mare's attacks. Argen knew, as she began to flap her wings and aim her sword for his side, that he needed to keep away from that dangerous appendage. Powerful hindwuarters bunched before thrusting him forward. He hoped to meet the bloody winged mare in her advance towards him, thwart her with his brick wall of a body, but it did not seem to happen well. Her cloven hooves lifted off the ground and her head twisted around, and Argen felt the white hot sting of pain erupt along the left side of his barrel. Quickly, he turned on his hindquarters, swiveling his body left as she attempted to take to the air. Argen, as fury and the need for retaliation warmed his breast, lifted into a rear and swung his heavy front hooves in an attempt to demolish the mare's left wing. In his quick fury, Argen was still able to close in on his target in his mind, knowing that wings were fragile like the birds that lived in the skies.

However, Argen was not able to prepare for her momentum. His movements and haphazard rear mixed with her slicing attack to his side caused clouds of pain to mix into his judgement, and the curve of the black mare's wing smacked him hard just behind his right elbow. Her forward momentum of attempted flight propelled by her calculated canter sent Argen backwards, his hooves flailing to gain purchase on the grassy knoll beneath him. The stallion sucked in a sharp breath of pai, his eyes glancing to the side to see that blood was moving from the slice she had created along his side. The wound was not too deep, but as it rose of her ribcage it stung like hell. The red of his blood mixed into his roaned and spotted side, painting the white and copper crimson.

Solomon, quick like lightning, swooped towards the black mare's head. His wings were tucked into his sides, his body dropping like a bomb out of the sky. Narrowed yellow eyes were locked in on the mare's face and just a few feet before where he hoped she was, the bronze opened his wings and swung his hips underneath him. Clawed hands reached out to attempt to grasp on the mare's horn, while his clawed back feet attempted to rake down over her eyes furiously. The dragon's belly warmed and he opened his jaws, the air around him igniting as he blasted a thick mouthful of fire towards the mare, hoping to light up her back and wings.


[WC: 794 | PC: 1/3 | *Note to self and judging admin: Solomon was about 5 months old when this spar started, so he only has limited elemental ability and baby-like speech.]

Image Credit




We are the long forgotten sons
And daughters that don't belong to anyone
We are alone under this sun
We work to fix the work that you've undone
</style>



please tag argen in all posts

Ghost the Cadaverous Posts: 219
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16hh :: 6 years HP: 67 | Buff: ENDURE
Fantôme :: Grey Wolf :: None imi
#5
Deception and perfection are wonderful traits
One will breed love, the other hate


The feeling of flesh-ripping as her blade dragged upwards sent a wave of satisfaction that was inevitably followed by the thirst for more. Ghost was relatively young to the brutal dance of battle, her experience short and her mind lacked the foresight to school her own emotions in order to grind a spar into the ground. Her fight participation count was one, her win count was one and her unwise arrogance reflected this. After all, hadn’t Seele the Necromancer crumbled and succumbed to her, the Cadaverous quickly coming under the impression that if she was quick enough and smart enough then surely, she couldn’t lose?! Not even to this thick boned slickly handsome warrior. It was the naivety of a novice that caused her to rejoice too soon after one hit and unavoidably lead to her losing concentration. Ghost the calm and indifferent Cadaverous had become quite something else in the heat of the fight.

As if in reaction to her attack, the stallion makes a sharp move with his front hooves, but falters in his attempt at a quick retaliation. His seeming endeavour to hit the open target of the banshee’s wings fails and instead she feels her wing smack against his elbow, her eyes wincing at the impact as her feathered appendages carried on skyward until finally she was in the air. "Lout" she muttered back at him, taking a moment to inspect her wings with concern that he might have ripped out a feather before throwing a look of disgust down towards where the roan was. There had been a time when Ghost was willing to bargain to have her wings removed now, however, they were cherished and well looked after. Not to be damaged by unruly stallions, no matter how dapper they looked.

Arrogance and complacency were not the best two traits to put together and Ghost’s attention was promptly turned away from her equine challenger and swiftly on to his reptile-like companion, whom she had poorly misjudged. The dragon shot through the sky like a bullet from a gun, shot with great timing, his little bronze body descending upon her and unleashing a hell only a tiny dragon could. His claws striking true as they grasped her horn and his wings sprung open, his fore talons swiped her eyes and Ghost slammed them shut with a squeal. Her position in the air began to waver and she shook her head wildly in her attempt to dislodge the reptile that clawed gashes over her eyes. Not done there and to the alarming dismay of the ravaged Cadaverous, the miniature beast shot a wave of flames and managed to singe off a few feathers before searing her back that forced another scream from the banshee’s mouth.

Injured, Ghost let her burnt wings drop her slightly in the air, nearing the ground in her aim to get away from the dragon. Her eyes watered with the pain from the scratches and her back sent burning waves through her body as she heaved in the air through her nose. It hurts! By the Gods! A difficult lesson, but Ghost now understood the consequences of miscalculating the damage a flying reptile could do. The arrogance from earlier drained away into the feeling of foolishness and anger at both the dragon and herself. Even now, as her gaze searched the floor for the equine, she struggled to see through teary eyes that were wincing from the pain. She would scar later and her thoughts went cold with mirthless revenge.

Seeing what looked like a reddish blob from her position, Ghost took in a sharp breath and weathered the pain as she dived towards what she hoped was the stallion’s position. She wanted revenge on that mini fireball, but she shied away from facing it again, how cowardly the Cadaverous could be, or afraid. Instead she made to take sweet retribution on the roan lout, doing her best to gain speed from diving through the air (copying the dragons earlier movements) and aimed to smack all four of her hooves down onto the stud’s back with a snapping kick. Twisting away in hopes her attack was successful, Ghost landed onto the ground and danced into the darker shadows by the tree before lunging forwards again, this time aiming her horn for the right side of his neck.



[2/3 | 725 Words | Sorry for the delay time love <3]
@[Argen]
Let the heat of the sun
Reignite your memory
Because if we just turn and run
Let them fire the gun

❚ Force permitted, just don't kill her :3
❚ Please tag me!
❚ Pixel by Nyte

Argen Posts: 37
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.0
Stallion :: Equine :: 16 hh :: Four years HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE
Solomon :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Fire Breath Time
#6
Argen

Quickly, through the sting of pain, Argen righted himself on his hooves once again. The ground beneath his hooves was solid and aided him well in regaining his balance, though the movements made the cut along his side scream in dismay. Wincing, he turned his eyes to the sky to watch as Solomon, his young bronze, swoop in to do his duty. The roaned stallion had commanded the creature to keep the mare grounded and out of the skies, and that was exactly what he was doing. Through their bond, Argen felt the rush of the thrill of battle surging through his dragon as his hind claws raked over her eyes. After his fire scalded down her back, the bronze released her horn, wings flapping to take him higher away from her, should she attempt to do him harm. Her screams, still ringing in his reptillian ears, gave way to a bright smile of success that was matched on his bondmate's muzzle. Argen moved his body and watched as the mare descended from the sky, rage fuming from her dark bodice. His smile turned into a smirk as his amber eyes look in her injuries. Solomon's destruction of the inky mare made pride swell in Argen's chest. His young dragon would be a dragon of war like Tyradon's green and Thraitar's gold. Snorting, the stallion braced himself for Ghost's oncoming attacks.

Argen did not have much experience fighting winged horses, but he was correct in assuming her wings would propell her with greater speed than even her lighter body handed her. As this mare of speed copied Solomon's bullet and came barrelling for him, all he could think to do was unleash the hell that were his powerful hindquarters. Turning around, Argen dipped his head towards the ground and thrust his weight forward, striped hindhooves shooting into the air, hoping to land a gunshot blow to the rocketing mare's underbelly or heart girth. The impact of her own hooves coming down forced a grunt from Argen's mouth. Heat instantly swarmed the area were her hooves smacked against his right-side buttock. Argen knew the force of her weight coming out of the sky only brought a heavier hand to her attacks, and he would be moving with a limp in the days to come. His lips twisted into a tight grimace, pain and determination and fire mixing behind his amber eyes. Above him in the sky, Solomon let forth a dry, high pitched scream of rage. All four of Argen's hooves hit the ground once more and instantly the stallion took off running after the red accented woman. As she turned to run at him again, Argen feigned to the left. Her horn sliced through his thick, dull blonde mane, but missed ripping into the skin and muscle of his neck. Quickly, Argen continued his forward movement, hoping to run parallel to the pegasus. His muscled neck rocketed forward, straight, and he aimed to hopefully land a bite on her loin. Following, with barely a blink to separate the attacks, Argen let loose a cowkick, hoping to snap his hard hindhoof on the woman's fragile front left cannon.

The late evening was leaving the light something to be desired, and Argen knew if the battle persisted that they would be dancing in the dark, and he would lose sight of this mare, save for the highlights of her wings. Argen, still running, circled around, hoping now to face the jet black pegasus. He faltered some, pain throbbing in his muscled body. All he could hear was his own blood pounding in his ears. Frustration radiated off of his body in waves, sent straight to his young dragon through their bond. Solomon let out a hiss, his young body shaking with the rage he felt towards this female. Argen, angry and furious for this female starting this dance, still did not match the intense emotion from his dragon. Solomon lived his life alongside Argen since his hatching, and if he could ever repay the safety the roan dun had given him, he would. The bronze wanted to see this female drown in his flame--and he cursed himself for being too young to devour her in hellfire.


[WC: 704 | PC: 2/3 | *Note to self and judging admin: Solomon was about 5 months old when this spar started, so he only has limited elemental ability and baby-like speech. @[Ghost] ]

Image Credit




We are the long forgotten sons
And daughters that don't belong to anyone
We are alone under this sun
We work to fix the work that you've undone
</style>



please tag argen in all posts

Ghost the Cadaverous Posts: 219
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16hh :: 6 years HP: 67 | Buff: ENDURE
Fantôme :: Grey Wolf :: None imi
#7
Deception and perfection are wonderful traits
One will breed love, the other hate


Cuts came and went, bruises were a little slower but the pain was dull and easy enough to carry. Fire, on the other hand, continued its ravenous rampage through flesh and blood, searing its way with unrelenting ferocity. It would be easy to say that the expression that marred Ghost’s face was one of great discomfort. Fire had no mercy. Even the tender scratches over her eyes were dull in comparison, but still very much unwanted. It didn’t help either that her desire to turn fear into strength caused her inexperience to show in headstrong naivety. Perhaps the pieces of the puzzle would click into place later, that fear could only be fought with understanding and patience, a clear mind and little arrogance. Ghost lacked in all these areas, but she ploughed on with her attack, the air sticking in her throat as the brute underneath her anticipated well and raised his own feet to challenge. His hooves collided with her underbelly as her own feet landed the blow on his rearing body, the thud of his well executed attack sent a dull pain through her already aching body and sucked the air from her lungs. It was a strange mix of hurt and satisfaction, her brazen melee had landed, but it didn’t come without a painful backlash.

Even now as the Cadaverous had landed only to turn back, she struggled to take in air and her face was set in a permanent pained expression. She began to question what on earth had possessed her to challenge such a brute of a stranger? Why didn’t she just shrug and walk home like she did most of the time?! In the end, Ghost had a thirst for exhilaration and challenge, her life was a charade in shadows but it was nice to let everything go now and then. It was one thing to watch the world and yet another to feel it. Her battle ability, however, lacked some and her piercing horn missed its target, brushing through his folds of blonde instead.

All of a sudden it became a battle of neck and neck, the banshee opened up her stride and allowed her long legs to stretch. He might be strong and powerful, but that mountain of a body could surely not move as fast as her lithe form could. Her ears were flat as the stud flashed a bite at her and Ghost switched her rear inwards to her left, taking the attack as a graze to her fleshy rump with a sharp, high pitched squeal. She flicked her own back end into a cow kick, allowing his hind hoof to scratch against her hock in a glancing blow as she aimed her own rear hoof for his shooting back leg. As soon as all four hooves stuck the floor once again, Ghost used the momentum to flap her wings downwards and lift her bodice into the air, but only slightly. She drew her hovering form over where she thought the roan would be and smacked her two rear hooves down, aiming to injure the stallion’s right shoulder.

Weariness began to tug at her senses along with all the other injuries, the fight would surely be at an end soon and the sprite knew she couldn’t force her body to give much more. Aware of the dragon above, Ghost returned to the earth, aiming for someplace slightly away from where Argen had turned to face her. There was one thing she had left up her skinny black sleeves, however, and she turned her slight body to canter towards the canopy of a tree, using her efficient burst of speed in hopes to outrun the stallion should he follow her. Once there, Ghost fell back into a ragged walk and took cover under its branches, her dark eyes seemed lost somewhere far away. Her brow deep set in concentration and to any looking in, the girl almost appeared to have given up on the fight. She imagined something far away and tried her best to concentrate on it, conjuring the illusion of gathering clouds that signalled a sudden storm and the world became dark. For any watching on, the sky above looked like it might rain heavily, but this was Ghost’s trick and what fell from those imaginary clouds wasn’t cold water. It was blood and it burned. Or seemingly so, it was only a trick of the mind after all. The pain, however, should feel real enough.

She brooded from her vantage point, hoping her little game would prove fruitful and watched for the next move.



[3/3 | 766 Words]
@[Argen]
Let the heat of the sun
Reignite your memory
Because if we just turn and run
Let them fire the gun

❚ Force permitted, just don't kill her :3
❚ Please tag me!
❚ Pixel by Nyte

Argen Posts: 37
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.0
Stallion :: Equine :: 16 hh :: Four years HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE
Solomon :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Fire Breath Time
#8
Argen

They were a mass of flinging teeth and hooves, scrapping for dominance and victory in this battle of strength and wit. Argen's body was throbbing, the toll of her attacks ringing true even as he pressed on towards demolishing this winged woman. His bite caused a squeal of pain to leave her lips and the grimace that licked across his face turned to a smirk once more. He enjoyed knowing he caused her pain, knowing that he was successful in his training. Oh, how proud his grandfather and his mother would be of him in this scrap! His hoof scraped across her hock, and the stallion gritted his teeth together as her own lightning quick kick shot out towards him. Unable to retract his leg in time, and felt her hoof slice into his left hind coronet. Fur ripped from skin and the upward motion lifted skin away from hoof. A trumpeting cry of pain left Argen's mouth even as he moved forward, limping some. Blood trickled down his hoof and onto the ground, causing Solomon let loose another cry of fury and anguish, wanting desperately to fly down to his bonded's side and bathe the black white and red mare in his hellish anger.

The mare was not done in her assault, and even in Argen's attempt to move away from her, he was no match for her speed. She let her wings lift her up and she twisted--how she did so was beyond the equine--and hovered above him for a moment. Argen shied away, twisting his body painfully away from her hooves in an attempt to flee more damage, but his bulk was too slow. He was no snake in the grass, no dolphin in the ocean, and her hooves crashed against his withers in his unsuccessful evasion. The brute's already throbbing body was increased in pain as his knees buckled some from the impact to his withers, but he continued to move away from the mare despite it. He did not want her to kick him again, and he thrust his head towards his chest to protect it, should she desire to flail her hooves towards his poll and render him unconscious. That was not her intent, it seemed, and his amber eyes caught her land and canter away. Confusion, for a moment, fogged his mind and he stopped completely. Was she leaving? Standing on their battlefield, Argen lifted his head, watching the dark girl run from him. His eyes widened some and his ears perked towards her. All the world seemed to fade away in just a moment, as he soaked in his victory. A stupid, boyish smile ripped across his face and he tossed his head some, despite the pain it caused to trickle the length of his body. He let a guffaw of a laugh leave his smiling mouth. The roan boy chuckled and began to trot, limping duly, towards where the female had gone. Perhaps now, that they were finished with their dance of blood, she would speak with him.

Solomon, however, was focused on the clouds that were rolling in. They were so sudden, and in the pit of the reptile
s stomach, he knew something terrible was about to happen. Argen! He screamed across their bond, dipping his wings to descend towards his equine partner. An ear tipped back and Argen stopped, just a few feet from the tree which the black mare was taking refuge under. His amber eyes lifted to his panicked dragon and, in turn, the sky. No. Argen grit his teeth together and let the familiar wave of anger wash over his bruised and bloody body, his tail lashing against his hocks. Slowly at first, and then a raging down pour, liquid began falling. It was hot and sticky and it burned over his body. The stallion closed his eyes tightly, and the bronze dragon flapped his wings wildly, haste making his heart pound. A scream--a true scream of anger and pain and the release of his foolishness--sounded from his open maw as he shook his body. This rain hurt like fire coming down on his body, and Solomon landed abruptly on his poll, extending his wings to shield Argen's head from the pouring blood. The dragon squealed as the blood drilled against his back, but he would not move. He had to protect Argen, and he would die doing so. In a blur of movement, Argen scrambled for the tree, to find solace under its canopy as the mare had. Argen ran blindly forward, though when he opened his eyes he altered his course to attempt to barrel straight into the pegasus. "YOU BITCH!"

Solomon lifted his head, tail lashing angrily as he opened his jaws again and fire spewed from the depth of his belly.



[WC: 800 | PC: 3/3 | *Note to self and judging admin: Solomon was about 5 months old when this spar started, so he only has limited elemental ability and baby-like speech. @[Ghost] ]

Image Credit




We are the long forgotten sons
And daughters that don't belong to anyone
We are alone under this sun
We work to fix the work that you've undone
</style>



please tag argen in all posts

Ghost the Cadaverous Posts: 219
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16hh :: 6 years HP: 67 | Buff: ENDURE
Fantôme :: Grey Wolf :: None imi
#9
Deception and perfection are wonderful traits
One will breed love, the other hate


The magic leaves Ghost’s body and she feels a new sense of weariness creep over her, adding to the arduous wounds that plagued her body. Though some satisfaction is felt when the roan stallion begins to laugh, she presumes his attention had gone and her moment to take the rug from under him, also, had come. She watches him limply trot over, admiring his physique and waiting for that mirthful expression to change when he realizes the ominous sky that was approaching. It was difficult to maintain the flow of her magic, her body shivering in painful effort as she focused solely on the stallion in front of her, willing him to see the dreadful red that burned. The only thing she regretted was that the storm she sent forth was not real, she could not taint the rivers crimson, it was an illusion and there for a fleeting moment. She had yet to learn how to use it in battle, but she hoped the rain would give her an advantage her battered body sorely needed.

She frowns when he stops as if alerted to something, her bondless mind in the dark as to how such intimate intricacies worked and then his face contorts into something familiar. Pain from an assault not all together there, not real and it hurt. As soon as the onslaught began she drags her mind away from the process of illusion magic, allowing it to ebb away in its own time and onto the task before her. Muscles tense in preparation for retaliation, the hurrah that surely would end their enjoyable and yet painful skirmish. Perhaps she would finally learn his name, the wild hulking stallion that attacked her with such relentless force and screamed crude words at her. She laughs at his shout, however, and found it has a pleasant, satisfying ring to it. Repayment for the stinging burns on her back, though her own wound would last much longer than any imaginary one this feral roan would think he receives. The banshee hopes the memory would last longer.

He barrels towards her and Ghost moves into a disjointed, injured looking canter away from the tree. Her trap had been triggered and she no longer needed to play the part, the illusion was not meant for her after all and it was time to end this fight without earning any more injury. Though with the charging roan and the possibility of being burnt to ash, Ghost held her breath and prayed she would be quick enough to evade their vengeful onslaught.

The sprite flaps down her wings, the less wounded of her limbs, and drags herself upwards away from the assailing stallion and the fire-breathing reptile. Feeling a little cowardly as she did so, sensing the rushing need to find the exit door and tend to her wounds before they came even more numerous. Flames explode from the bronze creature, missing her just as she climbed higher into the sky, but close enough that she could feel the heat on her belly and her eyes wince at the thought of even more burns. Real burns.

"You burned me first" she mutters back to him.

The earth calls her weary self and she glides back down, landing in a rather ugly fashion that lacked all grace and wincing at the bouncy trot that carried her forwards until the momentum slowed when finally she came to a halt in front of the tree she had created her trap with. "Let’s end this here" she breathes heavily, holding herself and her injuries in awkward pain, ushering the boy to come out of hiding. "It is not real, my magic is a mere trick" her breathy voice hoarsely laughs as she regards the spotted male and his troublesome bronze reptile. Her thoughts turn and she decides they were a handy combination that would be useful to have in a raging battle. Perhaps a word or two of crashing waterfalls and a regiment of warriors would sway the red-eyed beast to put his skills to purpose.

For now, she plots his uses in her mind and waits to see if he would relent.


[closing defence & 694 words]
Himalayan Trails.flickr
Let the heat of the sun
Reignite your memory
Because if we just turn and run
Let them fire the gun

❚ Force permitted, just don't kill her :3
❚ Please tag me!
❚ Pixel by Nyte

Official Posts: 847
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Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#10
By my verdict: GHOST is the winner!

GHOST
Realism [+3.5]
:: A smile crept onto her features as she trotted to his right then suddenly dived left, picking up the pace into a fast canter whilst bearing her horn towards his barrel. I gave some leeway with this since you weren't necessarily being super strong about 'yes I am aiming towards his left side', but just keep in mind you can’t really say with any great certainty that Ghost’s horn is pointed at Argen’s side. He could, and probably will, move. (After reading his post, he did indeed, move).
:: You did well in comparing the two fighters- it was very organic in the writing, not distracting or forced
:: Considering the dynamics of the fight and that both characters were running in opposite directions, I would have liked a little more clarification in your third post on Ghost’s attack. I think that you probably imagined there was a period of time between Ghost taking flight, and then turning to hover over Argen, but the way it was written made me feel like it was a sudden move, and I don’t think she would have been able to turn so quickly.
:: Good job using the scenery throughout, especially when Ghost used the shadows and trees to hide herself.
:: You did a good job translating dice rolls to damage, and keeping the injuries in mind throughout the battle.


Emotion [+1.5]
:: Ghost herself shines through in your writing, but after the first post I don’t have much of a sense of why she’s fighting. I wish that would have been worked in more.
:: She wanted revenge on that mini fireball, but she shied away from facing it again, how cowardly the Cadaverous could be, or afraid. This was excellent- well done! Really, all throughout, your musings on Ghosts’ weaknesses were fantastic.


Prose [+2]
:: The not knowing made it frustrating and hard to concentrate as her mind tried to go through several different options her adversary could take, it was only after picking out what she thought would be her best move that her pace changed. There were a couple sentences like this where I think a period or semicolon might have been more effective at maintaining flow.
:: There had been a time when Ghost was willing to bargain to have her wings removed now, however, they were cherished and well looked after. Another example where a sentence break would have been more effective.
:: copying the dragons earlier movements Dragon’s


Readability [+3]
:: No comments or concerns

Finally tally: 38.5+(10*2)= 58.5HP

*******************************************

ARGEN
Realism [+0]
:: I really don’t get a sense that you took enough damage in your first post. Ghost rolled a critical hit- a “not too deep” cut to his side and being smacked by her wing just isn’t enough in my opinion. This should be damage that is seriously affecting Argen in this fight.
:: Argen’s reactions to Ghost didn’t make a lot of sense to me either. Ghost was running towards him with her horn lowered, presumably towards his chest based on how you had their positions noted. Why would Argen jump towards her horn? If it was due to inexperience, or making some training he had learned, I would have loved to seen that noted in the writing. It really would have make the experience more real for me.
:: Solomon, quick like lightning, swooped towards the black mare's head. Tried to swoop towards her head.
:: You did better with damage in your second post, but I think that having Ghost’s horn scrape along his neck (at least superficially) would have really been the icing on the cake for me there. Especially since you had just mentioned that she had hit his hind end pretty solidly but didn’t make any mention of it affecting Argen as he ran after Ghost.
:: ’Argen!’ He screamed across their bond, dipping his wings to descend towards his equine partner. You mentioned in your OOC comments that Argen was about 5 months at this time. Companions don’t gain speech until 6 months, so he shouldn’t be speaking.
:: I never really noticed you making use of the injuries Argen had received, other than in a very cursory manner. They really should have been affecting him.


Emotion [+1]
:: All the world seemed to fade away in just a moment, as he soaked in his victory. A stupid, boyish smile ripped across his face and he tossed his head some, despite the pain it caused to trickle the length of his body. I liked this a lot! It is nice to see him fall prey to her trick.
:: The emotion at the end, with Solomon protecting Argen, was great- I wish I would have seen more of this throughout the fight. There were a lot of moments where the fight got very technical.


Prose [+2]
:: Lightning yellow eyes observed Ghost, matching his bondmates, Bondmate’s
:: The stallion sucked in a sharp breath of pai, Pain
:: he turned his eyes to the sky to watch as Solomon, his young bronze, swoop in to do his duty Swooped
:: her wings would propell her Propel
:: Heat instantly swarmed the area were her hooves smacked Where
:: Perhaps now, that they were finished with their dance of blood, she would speak with him. Just a little awkwardly placed comma.
:: in the pit of the reptiles stomach, reptile’s


Readability [+3]
:: No comments or concerns

Finally tally: 30.5+(6*2)= 42.5HP


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