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Anger seethed through every fiber of Archibald's being, mixing into his bonded's existence as well. The pair, so prone to anger and violence, had never felt a rage like this in all their time in Helovia. Their anger against Jackal, against the Sun God, against Mandrake, against his brothers, none of it compared to the fire that burned deep in their bellies, consuming blackened hearts and lungs in its devouring grasp. Archibald was moving, away from where he had met with Resplendence in the Secret Grove, towards an unknown destination. He was caught between the Secret Grove, his herdland, and the Endless Blue.
In the distance, the massive king could hear the crashing waves as they slammed against the cliffside. On the horizon, coming in from the ocean, a large storm-head raged. Lightning filled the skies, lighting the area around Archibald and his companion. With their anger unable to be dissolved, together the pair stood defiantly, staring at the storm as it swelled around them and unleashed its fury. Warm rain poured down on them, soaking their pelts to the core as well as the earth below their feet. The ugly mixture of sand and dirt turned to a mixture of sludge and grass, and simple weight shifting marred the King's pristine white feathers and the bitch's ivory paws. Thunder clapped around them, masking Archibald's screams as he threw his head back. The behemoth screamed until his throat was raw, but the raging storm drowned him out to the world around him.
The thunder storm lasted for what seemed only seconds, but the scratchy feeling in Archibald's throat and the dull shake from chill setting in Loretta's bones was a testament otherwise. As the rain vanished and the world brightened into a muggy, after-storm haze, Archibald and Loretta in tandem shook out their sopping wet coats. The titan turned, circling, thoughts at war within his battle hardened mind. Visions of his life, of his successes and his failures flashed in his mind's eye, berating Loretta with the same images, unable to stop the flood that was his history. Another scream left Archibald's throat and Loretta growled deeply, trotting before her bondmate, a worried pace but also an angry pace. "FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT ME!" Archibald finally screamed, his hind legs bending and his body lifting into a soft, low rear. His forehooves slashed out, an explosion of his rage, before he landed once more, matching his cur in a pacing trot, back and forth before a massive white pine. The Dauntless' chin tucked, his neck arched powerfully, and his ears pinned into his wet, sticky black mane.
In the distance, thunder clapped, though it was a muffled sound, all but a memory as the storm targeted another area in Helovia.
[WC: 457 | PC: 0/3 | Archibald vs. Arah | Teaching Spar | Regular timeline, no extensions. | Setting: Visual; Between the Endless Blue and the Secret Grove. The ground is a mix between dirt and sand, there is light covering of grasses. A large thunderstorm just finished up, so the ground is slick and might be muddy in some places. There is one massive pine tree in the area, and several boulders of varying sizes. | Please have Arah attack first! ]
I've been known for my hate,
but I'm a dealer of simple choices;
for me it's never too late.
please tag me
| Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Wynter :: Royal Griffin :: Draining Clutch Frostie |
Ears pin to the back of her head and her eyes widen at the scream. The storm had finally passed but someone was clearly searching to cause a physical storm. Well...she had never been one to back away from a challenge. In fact it had been a while since she'd faced impossible odds and fought to survive. That was were she found the true privilege of being mortal; the battle against the cold grasping hands of death. Having faced her King in the past it was not like the doe did not know what situation she was about to face. The voice had been powerful, it clearly belonged to a brute - a force to be reckoned with. Someone lethal, vicious, murderous and undefeated. None of this mattered to the lithe spy.
She would not back down.
Moving through the soaked ground with ease she quickly came upon the stallion. Her assumptions had been correct, he was the moral form of a battle god. No matter. This was not just a battle she had to win against him, this would become a mental fight with herself. Replacing thoughts of 'I can't' with 'I will'. This beast towered over her, he overpowered her but she doubted that he outwitted her. Her eyes flickered over to the mutt that walked beside her master. 'mianach sí' Wynter happily claimed the mutt as her victim. Smirking the doe spared a second to study the ground where the fight would undoubtedly take place upon. The ground is a mix between dirt and sand, with the occasional light covering of grasses. She ready knew from the large thunderstorm that just finished up, the ground would be slick and dangerous. There is one massive pine tree in the area and several boulders of varying sizes. She would attempt to use these to her advantage, ducking weaving and swerving. Often in history the mountain was crushed by a pebble, today she would test these stories and see just how she measured up. Today there would be no room for any fear, there would be no fleeing today.
Arah gave absolutely no warning, simply one moment she was studying him from a distance and the next she was charging, murder within her eyes. A powerful launch enters Arah into the battle, her haunches bunching before springing open to catapult her into full flight at the brute. Mud, sand and gods only know what else flicks up behind her as she charges, her stride is confident, she does not slip. The plan was to get in and get out while Wynter distracts and (hopefully) damages the shaggy dog. Her attention needed to be focused on the brute at all times, otherwise he would obliterate her.
The distance between them is closed within a few short moments. Arah wishes to begin her attack face to face, confidence in her stride, determination in her gaze...even though she barely reaches a noticeable height against him. Not slowing as she gets closer; instead the fae princess continues in her charge, using the momentum to get in the best attack she possibly can. Aiming directly for his chest, the doe bends her neck and dips her head, pointing her deadly barbed antlers directly at his chest. The brute's height makes his chest an easier target than usual, also it is a more comfortable charge. Normally she has to dip her head and obscure her sight, this time she is able to keep a decent view of her victim. Yet she knows that moving so close is a risky move, his height means he now has a choosing of her spine, head and ribs. Some of the - obviously - most delicate and important parts of her. Still, the fae princess hopes she will be too quick for him to retaliate in time, in and out before he even glimpses the colour of her eyes. Her pale hooves hardly slip upon the wetness of the muddy ground, the mare is hopeful in her attack.
Orbs attempt to remain on the brute. 'You will not scare us.'
With a screech that screams for the blood of her target, Wynter enters the fight. Through the bond Arah can tell her companion is resolute in her mission, she will distract the mutt from her mistress. Summing the magic her bonded had been gifted with, Wynter calls upon her draining clutch as she plunges in. In full attack, the creature swoops in from behind the dog, pools of darkness around her talons which are poised, ready to grab flesh that makes up the mutt's scruffy neck and drain her dry. The pair want to take the mutt out of the battle early and then gang up on the brute and defeat him together.
Lethal, unforgiving and a perfect team.
[[Translation : mianach sí - She mine.]]
[[800/800]]
[[1/3]]
[[Attack : Arah charges directly at Archibald, aiming her antlers at his chest in an attempt to pierce or scrape. Wynter swoops Loretta aiming to sink her talon's into Loretta's neck while using her ability draining clutch.
» Draining Clutch: pools of darkness surround the talons and beak, allowing a strong grip on an opponent to drain their strength and energy, and even their magic. The longer the grip, the more is taken and for longer amounts.]]
✽ Force and magic permitted. ✽
✽ No fatal or permanent damage. ✽
✽ Please only tag in opening posts. ✽
| Absent Abyss atk: 6.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 8 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 18.3 hh :: 10 years HP: 80 | Buff: SHIELD |
| Loretta :: Alaskan Malamute :: Time Slip Time |
Their opponent comes, but the pair is not pleased. Their raging anger has brought them down into themselves, and they look on towards the woman and her griffin with hard, mechanical eyes. Archibald stops trotting and turns to face the white, antlered unicorn as she observes them for only a moment. The brute snorts hard and arches his neck, muscles bulging carefully and solidly. His sticky, wet forelock is plastered to his face and his golden eyes are a blaze of rage and pure, unadulterated bloodlust. Archibald has no vendetta against his mare, against her soul, against her actions, but she was the physical body that would take the beating of his uninhibited, unbridled strangling vehemence. Archibald's burning eyes quickly shot around, taking note of the boulders he would need to avoid during their battle of rage and determination. His anger would not blind him; he was a warlord.
Loretta trots still, snarling as her amber eyes find purchase on the griffin. Narrowing her eyes, Loretta is the first to kick into high-tailed movement, just as Arah forces herself into a gallop. Loretta snarls again as the griffin comes in diving for her. The bitch has never faced such a hybrid of a creature before, but she is not thwarted by fear or apprehension even as the darkness ebbs and flows around the screeching creature's body. Loretta does not back down. No other companion strikes fear into her heart. Loretta has killed dragons. Powerful hind legs suddenly propel the shaggy wet dog into the air, jaws open wide to reveal her steel trap of teeth before she slams her jaws shut. She aimed her bite towards the griffin's throat, hoping to bring the creature back to earth with her and shake its body until it fell limp in her jaws, neck crushed and broken in the cage of her jaws and teeth. The beast's claws just scrape down her shoulder as she jumps into it, but adrenaline and rage course through her compact body too heavily for her to full react. A growl continually rings from the depths of her belly, however, and as her muddied paws hit the wet soil she can feel the effect of the magic that coated itself around the griffin's claws. It is a sudden feeling, overtaking her body like a hurricane. Although she has just begun her assault, the bitch feels as though this battle has been waging already. There is a light tingle in her legs and spine as the blood rushes to meet the surface of her two parallel cuts and bleed into her fur, and Loretta bites out again, hoping to grab onto the cretin's right foreleg, and then Loretta rips her head away hard, hoping that if she found her purchase she will pull the hybrid creature's shoulder from its socket.
Archibald is only still for a hair of a second, eyes narrowed in darkly on the white mare as she charges toward him. His eyes flicker down to her hooves for only a moment, wondering how she can move so skillfully over the slippery earth. Even with her lighter build and carefully crafted ancestry fueling her appearance, it was amazing how she did not slip even in the slightest. Snorting again, Archibald lets the idea drift from his mind and springs into the throws of the battle. The mountainous stallion moves into his own cantering charge, back hooves slipping some as he propels his mass forward. The white mare lowers her antlers toward his chest and Archibald quickly adjusts, weight shifting away from Arah and to the right. Archibald knows he cannot take her antlers head on unless he wanted a chestful of tines digging their way towards his darkened heart. Instead, he intends to canter parallel to the woman. Their dual charges are wonderfully met, but despite his feign to the right, Archibald suddenly feels the white hot sting of pain as one of the unicorn's tines scrape across the point of his left shoulder. Archibald pushes forward a few more steps before he launches his attack. The inky stallion turns his hips to the left, hoping to bring them close to the white woman, before he rockets them towards her. Archibald's weight is shifted forward as his demolishing rear hooves kick up and back toward where he hoped Arah's ribcage as, or even her hips. In his rage, the king wants to feel her bones crush beneath his power, his weight and might. Focusing on her body, Archibald summons his magic to solidify her bones. He needs the slow her down if he wants to gain the upper hand against her. With her desert ancestry, the white woman could flick in and out between her blows just as Locket when he danced with the Dauntless.
[WC: 798 | PC: 1/3 | Archibald vs. Arah | Teaching Spar | :: [Magic: Earth (U) | The ability to turn another's bones to stone, causing immobilization or slower movement.]
:: [Restrictions | Bones are turned to actual stone; the effects will wear off gradually. In battle, attack lasts for 50 seconds. Can only be used once in a post.]]
Teaching:
+ I love Arah's determination and reason to enter this fight. While these two normally would never cross paths at all and battle, her IC reason to be undaunted by a challenge is great. Often times, with OOC planning overshadowing the reasons of sparring/battling, we fall into this inorganic, mechanic, unjustified reason for our characters to fight. However, I think you did a great job incorporating our OOC planning into Arah's IC personality and determination.
+ "This was not just a battle she had to win against him, this would become a mental fight with herself. Replacing thoughts of 'I can't' with 'I will'." -- I love this, because later in the paragraph she sizes up Archi and he's a complete opposite of her in every way. This part is so good because she's not doubting herself, not regretting what she's gotten herself into, but is instead looking at herself. What can she gain from this battle? What will this prove in her life?
+ "Often in history the mountain was crushed by a pebble, today she would test these stories and see just how she measured up. Today there would be no room for any fear, there would be no fleeing today." -- This is good! However, what fear is she talking about? Fear of herself and her past failures (if there are any), or of past opponents? Expand upon her past a little and you'll be amazed what you can get with emotion, as well as connection deeper to your character because it shows how their past affects their current self.
+ "murder within her eyes." -- Why? I felt this a little odd, really. She's not *angry* at Archibald for any reason, but has merely come to his call to battle to prove something to herself. Why does she had this look in her eye? Not that it is bad, at all, but an explanation of this would have been awesome!
- "The distance between them is closed within a few short moments" -- Be careful with this statement, because it is bordering powerplay. In her charge, you cannot assume Archibald will just stand there. Make sure you are using predictive words and phrases like: hopefully//hoping, intending to, attempting to, etc. throughout the battle.
- I like how you have Arah think of what Archibald could attack. She knows she's left her back wide open, but what can she do about that? Is she thinking of ways to defend herself should Archibald try to attack her most vulnerable areas? Does she have enough battle experience to think this way, or does she even care?
- Overall very good. Your writing is good (with just a few mistakes) and your emotion is good. My suggestions for the whole of the fight are to: use Arah's past to her advantage or disadvantage, and expand more on the breed differences between her and Archibald. You mention them briefly, but do not explain how Arah will be at an advantage or disadvantage. I think you mean to when you write about how quick you want Arah in and out, but you don't really go on to explain why she wants to.
I've been known for my hate,
but I'm a dealer of simple choices;
for me it's never too late.
please tag me
| OOC Account |
| Mare :: Other :: 5'5" :: 25 |
| Sevin |
