the Rift


FIGHT ME BRO

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
#1

…no FUCK IT it’s time to crack some knuckles up in this bitch.

The inside of me was tight, tighter than I ever thought my body could ever be. I thought I was already a vacuum-sealed bag of gross-guts but no one ever really tells you that your entire body can just seize up, like your ass cramping in the middle of the night hard enough to pull you out of your dreams. It’s one of those things about life that no one can ever really tell you, the fine-print in a really boring chapter that you always skip in Ye Olde Grande Booke of Bullshite that everyone’s supposed to read before they’re born and no one ever, ever remembers. Everyone has a heart and it hurts to have one and you gotta find a way to deal with it.

And I thought FUCK IT because this was my way with dealing with seized up heart-guts. This was it, the sweat and the jittery anticipation of the kick and the bite, the r o a r growing in your chest until it’s deafening and you can’t even hear yourself think (or reason); it’s the icy blast and the heat wave crawling up your spine all at the same time, making your skin tingle and your body parts hush and scream with the feeling of excitement (and fear) that comes along with the first swing. It was fuckin’ somebody up and getting fucked up yourself and walking away, and even though you get bruised and bloody (and your eyes don’t work so good anymore) and your ass might actually seize up on you, you’re walking away and you’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive and you didn’t even have to think too hard to manage it.

Did I learn anything from my last match with Fireball™? I mean yeah, probably—for instance, you learn to understand when you’re beaten and you sit your ass down somewhere. But you could also argue that the primary lesson was to sit your ass down somewhere in the first place and not get yourself into a mess like that again. And whoever makes such a particular argument can bite all four corners and the brownest part of my ass, cuz I was fighting and there weren’t no one on this green and blue and white and red planet that was gonna stop me.

(Who cared enough to stop me.)

It figures that I would be on top of the world when the compulsion became too hard for me to ignore and erase. Maybe it was scarcity of oxygen (Are we really going down this road again)? I mean, whatever kinda excuse I can latch onto, right? All I know is that the sun was shining high and the wind wasn’t too harsh but it felt great (and smelled like fire) and I raced to a cliff edge that overlooked everything about this shitty place that I had to live in.

“FIGHT MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, I shouted to the world. Put up your dukes.





[OPEN SPAR! :D

COMPLETE STRANGERS preferred!

Setting: Heavenly Fields; high noon. Seasonably warm with bright, blinding sunshine and no clouds; mostly stable footing but there are some stones hidden in the grass.

3 attacks + Closing defense for both.

[LIMITED TIMELINE]

WC:[525/800]
ATTACKS: [0/3] ]





Please tag ROSKULD in every reply!

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
See the lightning in your eyes
See ‘em running for their lives

Solomon's wings splayed open, soaking the intense sun rays in deep. A relaxed, humming purr sounded from the bottom of the reptile's throat, giving Argen the confidence of mind in his growing companion's comfort. Just days ago the royal had met a green -- the roan's grand-sire's dragon--and ever since he had been at peace, warm in his demeanor and calmer. This was often Solomon's response after interacting with other dragons, and while it was a good sign for Argen, the young warrior wanted his dragon to be strong of mind and body. Wake up. Argen prodded mentally, shaking his body roughly to stir the bronze. He was greeted with a hiss, a discomforted sound that flew into Argen's ears vengefully. A smirk and a scoff laced Argen, and the oddly colored boy kept moving forward, opening his clip up to a light trot.

The noon was upon them, and the pair ascended towards their most familiar place of all of Helovia: the Heavenly Fields. The boy and his dragon spent many nights here, having traveled directly here from the Threshold. This was familiar territory to them, and when new scents hit their nostrils, they just 'had' to inspect them. Today was one of those days. Flared nostrils filled with an unfamiliar scent, and curiosity pricked Argen's ears forward and widened his eyes some. While Argen was not entirely ready to converse with someone new today, Solomon was. The idea of meeting a stranger perked the large bronze to sit straight up on his bondmate's withers, lightning colored eyes looking out forward, surveying around for the stranger.

The scream that followed his detection of the stranger on the afternoon air was exactly what they young man had been searching for -- an opponent to stretch muscles with and lock into combat. Turning towards the call, Argen closed the distance between him and the stranger. Breaking into the proximity, Argen quickly took the mare in. She was stout, solid. They were nearly matched in height, and despite the mare's apparent strong build, Argen carried himself with the idea that he would be stronger today than this girl. Smirking, the boy stopped squared before her, a few horse lengths away. "And so I shall. Argen, Solomon." The roaned boy dipped his head in greeting, and solomon climbed up his bonded's mane to look at the black and white mare. He gave her a chirp of a hello before taking to the skies. Argen turned his right shoulder in, moving his body to trot a half-circle around the mare. His reddish brown ears tucked into the locks of his dull mane, powerful neck arching and bulging with muscles. His entire body seemed to grow, expand, and tighten as he prepared for the battle before him.



[PC: 0/3 | WC: 460 | WOOP WOOP @[Roskuld] ]

image credits | tamme code




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

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
#3

I was pacing back and forth by the time someone showed up in answer to my call; my muscles had been jumping and thumping and I had to do something or I swore I was gonna explode. I looked up, my eyes sharp as I took in this fool’s appearance: flaxen hair, spots, rough-cut like a boulder. Bet this bro thought he was flossin’ as he came up on me, like he was sexy or some shit; I caught the glitter of dragon scales adorning his neck as something shot into the air, bronze and brilliant and flashing in the sun. Damn--I’d never fought against a dragon before. Guess it was only matter of time, right? Right. Whatever.

All this happened in seconds, because I wasn’t keen on wasting any more time. The tightness inside of me wasn’t letting up, continuing to cramp everything so firmly it was beginning to hurt. The only way to stretch this cramp was to go to blows—it had to be the only way, with how strong this bullshit was. My thoughts wanted to race so badly and it as taking all of my willpower to keep them trained on this spotty bro and his dragon cohort. My head wanted to think about Ma and ignore her all at the same time, equally painful no matter what it decided to do; it wanted to wallow on the murders and the darkness that shrouded the stupid, broken magic trick that Pa lent me to no end; it wanted to keen and cry and rip its hair out over the mystery of it all, to face it full frontal without a qualm or find a hiding place somewhere beneath a bush and cry it all out; it wanted to try saying that word name again (Ley-os, Lih-OHS, Leh-ohs) and run off on a tangent about some other spotted guy that also had a light mane and an even larger neck and chest and everything and wonder how he was since we last parted, whether or not the tears finally thawed from his face, the lines of his cheekbone—

“Ros,” I said, too forcefully, Square up, motherfucker.”

I hadn’t even stopped my pacing and obviously the intro I gave was sub-par at best, assholeish at worst, but there was no time-- no time-- to worry about it. Besides, a fight wasn't the place to finetune your social skills, because this was about hitting a bastard instead of shaking his hand and it was supposed to be liberating, dammit.

It was supposed to set you free.

(It was a foal, once--)

He was moving, and my eyes were following him, and I was moving too--but I didn’t break the distance, not yet. The air around me burned and crackled and a flash of blue-white-blinding sparked from my horn. There was a C R A C K in the air as lightning burst from my horn, brilliant and oh-so satisfying, aimed in the direction where I thought he would be trotting towards. I was throwing lightning at the bastard seconds after I met him--too many seconds too late in my personal opinion.

I was trying something else, too. I had been thinking about strategy and what that meant and how I could use it. Which was its own awful thing in itself, because my head was already buzzing too much with shit ( there were burns all over her body, her body, her body) to try and keep track of imagined scenarios with imagined assholes throwing imagined attacks at me. But I had tried my damndest and this was a scenario that had come up once or twice in my musings; I threw lightning at him, and on the heels of the crackling current my hooves were digging and gripping the dirt and the pansies beneath me and I was breaking for the poor bastard, charging for him, horn pointed at that thick-ass neck of his even as the sparkbolt flashed its way toward him.





[WC:[689/800]
ATTACKS: [1/3] ]





Please tag ROSKULD in every reply!

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
See the lightning in your eyes
See ‘em running for their lives

The air around them was warm, hugging both the equine and his draconian partner in the promise that Tallsun would be upon them soon. The sun danced over Solomon's scales, making them shine handsomely as he glided above the heads of the two below him. Lightning yellow eyes watched the black and white mare, how she moved, how she hesitated, and how she threw lightning towards his equine partner. Anger bubbled in the bronze reptile's chest and he let out a roar. How dare she! The young dragon hissed but he did not descend--it was not his time yet. Instead, he kept circling them, his shadow dancing on the grass below, the sun shining down in his back and through his extended wing membranes.

Argen watched the mare as he trotted, his neck arched and his ears tipped backwards and down. She was waiting--for what he did not know--but a snort of frustration gave way. Fight me! You asked for this, bring it on! He gnashed his teeth together, biting the air, waiting for the mare to strike as he trotted. When she finally did, it was not something that Argen expected in the least. From the horn on her forehead sparked a thick line of lightning. Argen sputtered, his front end popping up as his hind hooves dug into the earth. He spun, ungracefully, the opposite way, sending his body scrambling into a startled, haphazard canter from where he had first started. "SHIT!" He breathed, amber eyes wide in excitement and surprise. The lightning was a close call, and Argen was releived it did not hit him. He knew what lightning could do--he had seen it strike trees and create fires that devoured fields and lives. He did not want that to happen to him. Grunting, now angry at this volatile bitch, Argen decided to give her hell.

Argen was not a stranger to magic. His own mother had the ability to summon great winds, able to knock her opponents straight off their hooves, but these two abilities he had encountered in Helovia were quite foreign and interesting. The pegasus mare he had danced with not too long ago had made it rain blood on the strange, floating island, and now this mare was throwing lightning at him from her fucking forehead. Argen grit his teeth, hooves finding purchase on the ground and legs balanced once more, and he surged towards the mare. His footing was stable, the hard, grass-covered land of the Heavenly Fields not hindering him. He heard the slight click of his tow hitting against small stones, but they were nothing to bat his eyelashes at. She was running at him, too, with her horn pointed dangerously. Ghost had attempted--and succeeded--in slicing up his pristine, roaned hide with her long sword, and Argen would not let his mare do so today.

Throwing himself forward quicker, Argen moved slightly to the outside of the woman, his left shoulder aligned well so it would not collide into her own left, but hopefully just enough space to let him slip by her. Argen shot his head forward and his neck twisted when he thought he was in perfect range, lips peeled back from blunt teeth, as he attempted to snake his neck around and avoid her horn to land a thick, ripping bite to her jugular groove. He was successful in moving himself out of her horn's range, and it moved through his thick, dull blonde hair, but did not puncture or rip his skin. Argen turned his whole body, then, moving his butt towards the girl. Argen wanted to move away, get out of range for what was to come, and on his canter away from her, before he thought he was too far away, the roaned beast kicked up his heels and attempted to clip the mare's left shoulder.

It was Solomon that came in next, rocketing towards the mare. He passed his bondmate as he cantered away from the black and white, and once he knew Argen was out of range, the bronze beast opened his jaws wide. From the depths of his belly a great fire bellowed, spraying out of his trap-like jaws and heading towards the mare in an attempt to teach her something. Eye for an eye, the royal dragon sent to his equine partner, and the haughty boy smirked, circling his body to canter towards the brown-eyed girl once more. A sadistic light sparkled in his amber optics, hoping to see flames cover and lick her body. How cruel of him, but it was oh-so pleasing to see others devoured in the hellfire his companion could create. A war-dragon she would be, at his side, and together they will be what oracles tell fools to fear.



[PC: 1/3 | WC: 794 | @[Roskuld] ]

image credits | tamme code




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

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
#5

Okay ow that didn’t go as I initially planned. I was supposed to shoot myself straight at the guy, my footing sure and smooth as anything and nothing was supposed to change that. What actually happened was that I made to dig my hooves into the ground, to grip the dirt and the grass--but my right hind hoof was fortunate enough to scrape against the jagged edge of a stone (of crystal, crystal, shards of crystal everywhere) and I felt the unexpected twang of the rock scraping against the inner wall of my hoof and my leg splayed out from underneath me awkwardly enough to pull something that I would be feeling later and I tried and tried and tried to pull it back in and keep running at him but it was done, the damage was dealt, that timing was gone and I wasn’t getting it back. Shit.

My fumble gave him just enough time to dance from my clutch, and by the time I caught up, he was twisting for me and his teeth shot from my left nowhere and they clipped me, pulling my skin and a little meat under it in a sickening way (granted it wasn’t my bad side--my burned side-- but it still hurt like absolute hell). In a knee-jerk reaction I pulled my head and neck sharply to right, to pull my flesh out from under his big-ass teeth, which hurt even more but at least my neck was out of his mouth, right? At this point, though, we were both moving too fast to process but I saw his butt turning toward me and even if I wasn’t aware of the implications behind it I wouldn’t want his ass in my face anyway-- SO I tried to bolt to the right as fast as I could and there was a WHAP in the air next to me and I could feel a clip along my left quarter but I was already moving and there were no stones underneath me this time to hold me back from my escape. I didn’t go far though, because fuck that I wanted a fight face-to-face dammit. Just as I had gotten out of range of his flying hooves, I twisted to my left to try and face him again, to lock onto his retreating form and reload and oh crap he still has a dragon.

FWOOOSH said the fire.

More fire.

(what is with people and fire?)

I heard it before I saw it and I tried looking up and that was an awful idea because all I saw was sunlight and the fierce gleam of dragon scales and I cried out something weird (“AHGHAaHahghghahg” or something) and lightning burst from my horn before I even thought to do it, into the sky, at the dragon or whatever shadow I was desperately trying to keep from descending upon me. My poor retinas sizzled again and I closed my eyes tight, backing away and ducking my head against the wave of heat that I felt roaring towards me. It made it to my back and my mane (again) and it licked my topline and my croup and I felt it raze me and once again, the magic in me reacted before I even meant for it to, like my body was out of my control and it wasn’t, under any circumstances, gonna allow itself to repeat the same mess that it had with FlameGuy and his flaming everything. Before I knew it, I had zap!ed and when things settled around me and the world materialized, I was just a few feet to the left of where I had been before. Not even that far--but I was out from under the curtain of flames, at any rate.

It didn’t take me long to spot the flaxen bro and when I did, I bolted for him again and I didn’t hesitate one moment, my legs underneath me flying (and twinging in some areas) and working like pistons to try and catch up with him. I shot another bolt of lightning at him and the ass that flashed towards me as I sped to catch up and I could feel air touch tender parts on my back and my heart was thumping and my nerves were raging raging raging and needing to attack some part of him and he was too far away and it was making my chest clench with the frustration of it all-- but unlike him, none of the tension that was eating me alive was personal. This was an evil of a different kind.


[WC:[769/800]
ATTACKS: [2/3] ]





Please tag ROSKULD in every reply!

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#6
21 days have passed. Argen defaults to Roskuld, +0.5VP


Partial judging requested- but partial judging requires two posts by each contestant.
As Argen only made 1 post, this thread is not eligible.


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