the Rift


You Could Be My Muse

Zenobia Posts: 61
Absent Abyss atk: 3.5 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 5 years HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Athvadar :: Albino Grey Wolf :: None Semper
#1
I know this woman type
looking like kryptonite
Today, she hungers for a fight, for the thunder of bruising flesh and the clash of bodies; for battle, for blood, for victory. In part because, truly, Zenobia does long for a good beating -- but also in part because it's easy to forget your problems when you ease into the dance of war, when your only imminent thoughts are of survival and of winning. Better this way, to be swallowed up by the waltz, swept into flashing teeth and pinned ears and rolling eyes, than to remain unfortunately bogged down into the woes of reality. And she has need to get better, to start winning her one-on-one wars, at least before she can face her father again, him at the pinnacle of health.

Lashes press tight together as her nostrils flare, cusping to allow a deep exhale. Gaucho. Sohalia. Words framed soundlessly by the shape of her shadowed lips, sorrow deepening the lines on her youthful face. She misses them, a niggling little part of her; misses what could've been, misses not supporting their rule and loving them as she should as a good daughter. Yet on the other hand... their presence had been overwhelming. How could she ever compare to them? It never seemed as if her father had truly loved her anyway... she never saw him. He never saw her. This way, in her abandonment, she had at least been allowed to forge her name, unshadowed by the stretching silhouettes of her parents.

Right?

Zenobia sighs again, and then her wings rustle open. I am the silken promise of warfare, the banner of carnage, the daughter of bloodshed. A beautiful, electric queen with dark eyes and a gentle smile, but undeniably fierce in her passions and haunting desires! It was time to prove her heritage, her undeniable prowess in battle, her mighty prowess; let them come! Let them fall away from her as she raged against the confinements she had allowed to bind her for so long; let her be the warrior daughter she was meant to be!

Wings come to her sides again.
On the battlefield she stands, regal, imposing, fearsome... even despite the way her mane, tangled, clings damply to her wet neck, even despite the chills wracking her frame in the cold of the spring storm.

It's been raining torrentially for the last few hours now, allowing for a thick build-up of mud in the fields. The rain itself has died down now to a light sprinkling, but underfoot, it's slick, treacherous, and fickle footing -- as eager to let her fall as her opponent. The sun is obscured by a thick veil of greasy gray; even despite it being the height of midday, the lighting remains fairly dim. It is, at the very least, fairly open here in the meadows. Or perhaps barren. With the exception of a few low-lying thorny bushes and wicked thistles throughout, it's an open playing field.

Her frame quivers as she drags in a deep breath, preparing...
and then lets it ring out, a cry for battle, a summoning for war.

Let's go!



Setting: ... the Thistle Meadow is one of the most peaceful and mild locations. A wide river flows through the center of a lush field of tender grass, splitting off into two shallower streams to the north. Aptly named, Thistle Meadow has patches of violet thistle, and the occasional red oak tree will climb toward the sky, providing shelter for all manner of creatures.

Weather: Has been downpouring for the last hours. Extremely muddy and everything is just dripping. Rain has lightened up in the last half-hour to a drizzle.

Notes: Your move first!

- bg - table & image -

@[Destry]
[Image: 573ea2c04723f]
please tag Zenobia in all replies!
magic & force is permitted, excluding death or permanent injury.

Destry Posts: 95
Hidden Account atk: 5.0 | def: 8 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16 hh :: 4 years HP: 63.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Yseult :: Royal Zephyr :: Roc & Wakiya Dark
#2

destry</style>
The prettiest in crowd that you had ever seen
Ribbons in our hair and our eyes gleamed mean
A freshmen generation of degenerate beauty queens</style>


Milling through the Meadow, head gently bobbing as I trot farther away from the Throat, the small feathered babe tucked within my ivory hair to keep away from the rain. My body tilts off to the side, my hooves sparking and illuminating the field as they strike a drier rock, the other foot hitting the mud and the spark swallowed without a sound. The world is dimmed, the aftershock of heavy rains leave the colours drained from everything, the flowers looking as gray as the weeping skies above. My coat takes up the drops that fall over it, leaving dark streams running down my body, contouring to the movement of my muscles.

It is not long before a call comes ringing, muscles tensing at the sound of a hungry equine desperate for a taste of war, my steps grow cautious as the source of the call is revealed, a creamy mare with rugged black lines over the muscles connecting her wing to her shoulder, her mane and tail dark hues similar to the markings on her shoulder, her legs coated with black that crawls up to her knees and hock. In hopes to attack her from behind, where she can not see, I move quietly as possible towards her, lowering my head briefly and demanding Yseult may sink to the ground and hide beneath a bush far from the battle field.

Rising up again, with heart pumping as I grow excited for the battle, I move forward with my body stiff from such excitement and fear. My thoughts shift to Aurelia and how she would react if I came home battered and bruised but victorious. What a sight I would be, feathers wedged between my lips as a prize for my success and a smile crawling up my cheeks. I move as lightly as possible, hoping she had not turned herself or heard my movement. I looked down at the ground, my eyes watching for items that I could step on that would alert her, my eyes trailing forward to stop on her hind legs. Oh, I had almost forgotten about those and the powerful punch they'd pack with them, so maybe doing something such as that was not a good plan.

Looking at my options with a quick snap of my gaze, I burst forward into a gallop to attack at her right side, although I was preparing myself for her to move, unless she had already heard me and stepped away to leave me swinging at air. My horn was sharp and ready, and if she had not moved from that same position it was pointed towards her right wing, the violet weapon ready to slice open the skin near the portion of flesh connecting the wing and the body. My hind legs push me forward as I begin to run off to the left, trying to cut her off from moving forward so that if she did she would have to deal with my hooves and body in her way. My stomach sank as I slipped, the mud taking away my ability to balance well and leaving my falling to my right. I land in the mud in front of the other girl's original position, but I didn't know if she had run off or remained where she was. My face grew warm with embarrassment and anger, nostrils flaring as I realize I'd make a piss poor warrior with these kinds of faults.

Keeping my wings tucked at my sides, I kick my hind legs out, trying to strike at something, anything. I rock quickly in the mud, feeling my right side lift off the ground with a layer of mud slathered over my wing and legs. It's a painstaking process to lift myself up, knees slipping in the mud and frustration painted across my face. Couldn't I call a time out so she didn't bite my ass while I was trying to get up? Probably not, so that means I have to get up quickly. Getting back on my feet I run forward, turning to face her original position with bi-coloured eyes narrowed at the location where I had fallen, rising back up to face the pale mare with a ferocious gaze.
"Talking"

summary Destry attempts to sneak up on Zenobia by going towards her in Zenobia's blind spot, but realizes that that's a bad decision because Zenobia could kick her with her hind legs, so she instead races to her right side where she tries to slash at the muscle of Zenobia's shoulder/the area where her wing & body connect. Destry then attempts to stop Zenobia from going forward ( if Zenobia attempts to move forward, i kinda left it open ) but falls instead & while she's down she kicks out in hopes to trip Zenobia, then getting up and turning around to face where Zenobia had originally been. | wordcount 714 | tags @[Zenobia] ( hope its ok i tag you in each post?)


image by aling_ @ flickr.com
lyrics belong to this is what makes us girls by lana del rey</style>

we all look for heaven and we put our love first
somethin' that we'd die for, it's our curse

Odd the doer of things Posts: 115
Administrator atk: 23 | def: 42 | dam: 108
Mare :: Other :: 5"2 :: 27 HP: 108 | Buff: badass
Odd
#3
** Don't forget an attack counter next time! :)

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Blu
#4
@[Official] past 3 weeks, default to Destry
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#5
21 days have passed. Zenobia defaults to Destry. Destry receives 0.5 VP


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