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11-04-2014, 02:28 PM
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This was stupid, the golden concluded. Golden harks pinned flat back on his neck, laid and decorated full of…wait, flowers? Weaving around his horns, and laying in such haphazard beauty were chains of leis. If he had not been so pissed looking it might actually have been stunning gorgeous with its pink, yellow, and blue flowers against the white hair which cascaded from the crest of his neck. Several long chains hung loose around the base of his neck, and several tight curls wrapped around his limbs. He snorts as he walks and turns away from us, but even in his frustration we can see a string holding two coconuts at his deep chest. As he walks he shifts with discomfort at their rough touch, how the hell did he get talked into this costume anyway? The crowning glory though was a grass skirt which tied around his barrel. The gold, in his frustration had already reached back between his forelegs and ripped several of the long strands out of the skirt so his back legs could move without tripping. With a smirk that golden beast had crunched down on the dry grasses with a sickening vengeance at this costume he was not wrapped up in. Cloven hooves began to slosh slightly through mud, causing a growl to rise up on his lips. He was tolerating those damn flowers, they better as hell not get dirty. Well, if he was going to suffer he’d look damn good doing it. Having been looking down to avoid puddles, the golden too missed the first small web. Leaping through to escape its sticky silk clutches the golden lands into the clearing just as his opponent is arriving. Lowering his flower crowned head the gold still struggles to rub the remaining web off his face. So it takes a moment before ne notices exactly where he is. Crack. Hark pin and the gold hula girl stills. His sparring partner was in front of him, but the noise came from the left. A shadow moves suddenly closer. Earth eyes narrow in, but wait, thundering hooves come from in front and the gold swings round to see a spotted gold stallion, with equally strange dress charging forward. Now why the hell didn’t he have to wear any damn flowers? Growling low the gold shakes his flowered mane and braces, ready. Battle plan was forming up as he saved his energy and let his opponent come to him. The spotted one was shorter, stockier, and a solid build. The gold had something that stock horse didn’t have, horns. Swaying his hips in readiness, while the grass skirt rustled, the golden curls his head. Closer, closer, the golden waited. Crack. Again from the left, but the golden was too fully occupied. Now! In a flash the gold danced on those flower wrapped legs, to the side (as his own breed was so famous for), and swung his hips away, grass skirt flying, from the spotted fluffy crown’s grasp. This wasn’t a bull fight though, and so the gold strikes immediately to the offence. Curled neck had left his horns, even flower wrapped as they were, ready. Pulling his head down just slightly more and making almost a leap forward as the white coated stallion slowed in his planned hits, the gold hoped to soon sink those twin daggers into his costumed flesh. A smile even flashes across his face, for he may not want mud on those stupid flowers, but some blood would convert this costume to a manlier look quite nicely. The savored good feelings would not last long. At last the hidden shadows revealed itself, now that the creature had turned its back. A spider, as big as the golden, rushed forward to defend its home of webs and sank those long mandibles into the twin horn’s grass skirted rump. Pain broke that sweet golden face and for a second, panic too. Then it shifted, and turned dark and sinister, laced with tensions of pain as the spider sank deeper, near taking the gold’s breath away. He still knew not what it was, as he head was tucked and curled, and careening towards, hopefully, the side of his opponent. Still it stung it seared, so while pushing forward, one golden hind, lifts then slams back to whatever had taken a bite of him. Too much, too stretched, especially as his hoof hit air (the spider retreating). Already the golden could feel his body slip on the wet grass. His only hope was his attack hitting, then at least it would give him time to get back up. Chaos reigned, but the gold once again grumbled in frustration. Great, now his flowers would get muddy. Mud, after all, is not as handsome as blood. "Speech" OOC:: WC:: 799 ATK:: 1/2 SETTING:: Described by Graveyard Rules COSTUME:: As a hula girl, Thranduil has flowers wrapped around his horns, legs, neck, and in his mane. He has two coconuts tied around his chest over his neck, and a grass skirt tied around his barrel, which he's already eaten off the under grasses for movement. INJURIES:: A spider bite on his flank, two inches deep, and punctures two inches apart (will RPG more in the next post). SUMMARY:: Thranduil waits until the last moment to spin around and try to stab some part of Daemyn's side. Right then though the spider bites his rump, and in attempting to shake it off he kicks out (all this while still committing to stab Daemyn). Kicking out, while getting rid of the spider, combined with the wet grass to make him unsteady, and he begins to fall (and will finish doing so in the next post). So his horns, he hopes, if not having stabbed, will at least scrape as he falls. ALL THE CHAOS AT ONCE. =D |
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