the Rift

When the Reaper Comes {Graveyard Champ}{XRoskuld}

Bucephalus the Morningstar Posts: 292
Hidden Account atk: 7 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.1 :: 6 || Tallsun HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Azeeza :: Orange-breasted Falcon :: None Tribs

It was odd flying like this. He had spent quite a few hours piecing together his costume of owl feathers, and had woven the soft feathers into his own. While it made him look mismatched(soft browns against harsh black and gold), it would provide his costume and a purpose. Owls flew silently, and silence is what he would need. He tossed his head, the owl mask carved from wood disguising his face. The mask was slightly irritating, but he had sanded it down as much as he could so it wouldn't distract him during the battle.

Battle. The very word had him exhilarated, eager for the sport that he had so long neglected. Nothing riled his spirits more, fighting was like flying in a typhoon; wild, unpredictable and savage. The thought of clashing with another equine sent his eyes rolling, and nostrils flaring, he could hardly contain his eagerness within his lean frame, slender legs trembling with a mix of nerves and the thrill of anticipation.

Before he knew it, the fighting ground was beneath him. And far below...was his opponent. A wild, wicked grin curled the black's lips as he gained a few more feet in altitude, then tucked his wings in and plummeted, the feathers muffling, but not completely muting the piercing whistle from his falcon-like wings. His plan was simple, to dive down with just enough momentum on his opponent that he could grasp their mane in his teeth and hit them with his weight to send them to the ground. Of course, that would be in a perfect world. He had no guarantees this plan would work, the feathers could fall out or his opponent could notice his shadow. He tried his best to keep himself angled with the sun so that his shadow was cast within the shadows of the trees surrounding the meadow. But the element of surprise was his best bet, especially when a glance down revealed that his opponent was stocker than he; more low to the ground.

Without hesitation, Bucephalus flung himself into a steep dive, the shrill whistle of his wings cutting through the air muffled by the owl feathers, although not completely silent. Quickly his opponent's form loomed, and he spread his wings just enough to catch the air and control his dive. He had to strike just right. Calculating his speed and the force behind it, he dumped the air out of his wings mere feet from her, wings fully outstretched. Long neck stretching out, the stallion went to sieze the base of her mane in his teeth. He had judged her weight when he saw her, and made measures accounting for it. With a sharp adjustment of wings he twisted his body above her back, angling himself so that if he could snag his teeth into her mane, he would hopefully hit her with not just the force of his dive, but all of his weight thrown behind it as well.


"talk talk talk"

Art done by me
Table by Tamme<3

Feel free to tag Buce in any posts; permission is given for force against him provided it doesn't kill or permanently maim him(ask about the latter)

Roskuld the Sparklight Posts: 424
World's Edge General atk: 7.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Tribrid :: 15.3 :: 6 HP: 82 | Buff: ENDURE
Zchiraxicon :: Royal Rougarou :: Electric Smithers

….no, but it was great, see, because I wasn’t even aware it was a tournament. That’s the best part, right? Like...all they really did was tell me to dress up and that there’d be free hoarse-doovrehs, which is like tiny foods (other than grass, since I guess there’s really great stuff out there to eat that I can’t find in some forest clearing somewhere). Which was good enough reason for me, so I told Pa about it and he kinda rolled his eyes but he pulled out this really long yellow piece of something (he called it his “tape-measure”, whatever the hell THAT is) and some things sparked and hissed and suddenly I was wearing these threads and it was--

--pretty much--

--the greatest--


You don’t even know, man! Like, I put on that coat and I was just--like--

--a shooting star leaping through the skies, dude.

I don’t even talk like that, but this thing I was wearing (Pa called it a jacket I guess?) was giving me all these ideas, all these phrases in my mouth and all this ENERGY and I was gonna go, go, go and there was no stopping me. You couldn’t even try. I was floating around in ecstasy and at that moment, that night, I was gonna have myself a good time whether you liked it or not so stuff it.

And it could’ve been ruined by this surprise-ass attack from above, something huge and blackish-goldish and feathery just falling out of nowhere with no warning other than a flutter of the faintest shadow--but, see, that’s the coolest part! I’m all about fights ‘n shit! It was almost as though the jacket knew, y’know? As though the only way it could improve on this night was to throw a brawl somewhere in there, and it just falls out of the sky, like some present or whatever. Hell yeah, hoarse-doovrehs and a fight? Bring it.

So, um….jeez I can’t even remember what I was saying. That’s how wired this jacket’s got me.

OH YEAH so it swoops in out of nowhere, right? And the adrenaline grips me and I try to run out from underneath...whatever was coming right for me. But I wasn’t fast enough, and something chomped down on my ass really hard and this huge weight settled on my butt and damn-near threw it on the ground. My croup stung from the bite( I think it was a bite?) and the muscles in my back spasmed, strained by the huge thing that was dragging it down and my efforts to get the hell out of there. With quick, powerful lunge, I launched myself out of the hold--and, as soon as my legs and my thighs broke free from the confines of the thing, I just commenced to kicking some hardcore ass. No, literally, I just started kicking like crazy, my back hooves lashing out as fast as I could throw them, once, twice in quick succession, hoping I would hit something before my momentum forced me to keep running.

I bolted forward, away from the thing-- sidestepping my ass towards my right so I could twist my body and still travel away from my surprise opponent but see their ass, too, and maybe throw in my own punches once I got a good look at ‘em.


[WC: 558

ATK: 1/2

Costume: Roskuld is dressed as Freddie Mercury

Summary: Tries to run out from underneath Bucephalus's attack, but is too slow to dodge and is bitten on her croup instead of her mane. Back half of her body is partially crushed under Buce's weight; she wiggles free, aiming two swift kicks behind her in an attempt at striking Buce as soon as she's able. Continues to travel forward, twisting the back half of her body to the right (her left shoulder turning towards Buce) while sidestepping in order to face Buce head-on and prepare another attack. ]


Like stars burning holes right through the dark
Flicking fire like saltwater into my eyes</style>

Please tag ROSKULD in every reply!

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
This fight defaults to Roskuld.
 HP: 1100

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