the Rift


SWP :: Blunt Little Instruments (Part II)

Nephele Posts: 82
Dragon's Throat Guardian atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.3 :: 7 HP: 64.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Atreus :: Lammergeier :: None Nova
#21


Miss. She missed.

There's nothing quite like a shot of bitterness to swallow down while broad wing strained under the pressure of a swift ascension, the desert amazonian is forced to land unceremoniously a short distance away from the burning tar and dying tigeress.

Watching with one blue eye as the mighty Goddess is impaled, burned and sizzling from acrid acid, fire and twisted earth aiming to silence her once and for all. For all her bitterness in that she missed her target, along with another from the Throat — momentarily taking her eye off of the great creature to see if Zenobia is okay, her glance a silent question, despite the searing wounds she views on Zenobia and the ache in her wing — she cannot help but feel a stab of stinging pity for the great feline, now the red mist of surprise and adrenaline has subsided to something more manageable.


Perhaps in another time she was as benevolent as she was mighty, she wonders, stalking the tropical rainforest with pride and elegance befitting her station. Though it is not her place to question her gods and their judgements, after all she is but a thread in the great tapestry of life.
What she does know, comes from hearing of foreign Gods and their mannerisms in her time away from Helovia. All of their greatest achievements, and greatest atrocities, came with a price, and more often than not it was of their subjects, who suffered the most — and even more were the ultimate price that was paid.

Sorrrow. Agony. Bitterness. Anger. Greed.

She see's them all in the tigers writhing frame, and she see's their various forms written in all the faces of the equines still crashing against the divine being like waves against a crumbling mountain, bidding it to wilt under their corrosive barrage.

Did Father Earth truly believe that other Gods were not fickle in their deals? That to them there was no cost that could not be paid, there were no deals that could not be turned back on?
Nephele pivots on her back legs to face the fray once more, pushing aside the whirling thoughts and collects herself. It was not a title she truly wished to carry, God-Killer. God-Render. For that is what they called anyone on the vast plains of her adoptive home who had felled a god — foreign or not. It carried with it great prowess, and great stigma.


For if you could kill a foreign god, in the end, what stopped you from killing your own?


Tucking her chin against thick, battle muscled neck she begins a steady charge towards the tiger goddess. Hooves digging deep in the earth and sending it spraying against her legs and stomach, she dodges the throng of bodies and burning tar as best as she can, gathering a thunderous momentum.


Maybe this will be the first and only time, silent words drifting in her skull like a sad lullaby, she will help silence the breath of a God. It is for her birthland after all, for her herd, for her new found family and new friends she was making. Those thoughts eased the sting and whirling emotions and she gave a great leap, wings carrying her despite mournful protests of strain in one — she would not take to the skies now unless she had to. Her hooves primed and her teeth ready, she sent the plate sized weapons in the direction of the tigeress' ribcage, aiming to crush and splinter.

Splinter them into fragments that would spear and snare her lungs, fill them with liquid life and suffocate it out of her at the same time. Meanwhile her teeth snapped for the orange and black marked neck, they would tear shreds of fur and flesh should they meet their target.

______________
Notes;; #teamearthgod

Lands to catch herself after missing her first attack, feels sympathy for the rift Goddess and has a moment of wondering but in the end steels herself and charges the Goddess once more. Uses her wings to lift her enough above the crowds and crash her hooves into her ribcage, aiming to break ribs and puncture the remains into the tigers lungs. Meanwhile her teeth aim to bite at her neck.

And my heart is a hollow plain
For the devil to dance again

Mentions @Zenobia

“She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close.” 

― Terry Pratchett
Please tag Neph in all replies!
Force & violence permitted with the exception of maiming & death

Ki'irha Posts: 176
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 years old HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Noella
#22
Ki'irha
I have loved the stars too fondly || To be fearful of the night
____________________________________________________________________

Flames licked the goddess, searing tongues of fire eating at the tar. The corporal, light as she was compared to the beast, seemed to still effect the tiger's balance. Muscle against muscle, rage against rage, warrior against warrior. Battle was a sacred thing despite its violence, and in a world of war there was a sense of peace the star girl found in this moment. Nothing else mattered. But her attack came with a bitter price, as all things do. A shrill shriek burst from her, but her cries were swallowed by the thunder of battle. She recoiled, scrambling backwards, as her fur was seared and tough skin blistered and peeled. The burn swept across her shoulder and sank into the soft tissue, pain shooting through her, setting each nerve on fire.

Others around her suffered on their own, some from the goddess's flaming pelt, others from her brute strength. Ki'irha's teeth clamped shut, holding back a pained sob. Her vision was blurred, by pain or tears she was unsure. Though effective, the fire was irresponsible, and the blue cursed those who had sent the enemy alight. Not only were the they fighting muscle and teeth and claws, but they now needed to avoid molten tar.

The great queen was buried in fire and earth and water and magic, but she still managed to burst from the elements and release her anger on the Helovians that stood too close. Despite her injuries she still continued on. There was only one of her, and too many of them, and she was sure to fall, as all rulers eventually do.

Ki'irha's ears clapped back flat to her skull and her stormy eyes narrowed. She leapt forward, her typically graceful gait marred by a limp. Her body brushed against others as she surged forward, a wave in a sea of bodies crashing against a stubborn cliff side. Like a second heartbeat, pulses of searing pain coursed through her from her burn, and between her movements and contact with others, she felt as though she would be engulfed in the fire. But as she moved, a new sensation began to swallow the burning. The sensation was cold, ice against the fire, and then it was sharp as pins and needles. She faltered, leg nearly giving out, as her skin was mended, tissue woven back into place, nerves no longer screaming. She gritted her teeth, the healing nearly as painful as the injury, until it began to subside, nothing more than a soft tingling. A new energy coursed through her as other bruises and scrapes were healed. She would need to find the one who helped her, who made her whole again. But right now was not the time to break for thank you's. Right now, she needed to find an advantage.

The ground shuddered and lurched, a stony precipice bursting upwards as if in response to her need. The blue wasn't sure who created it, and she was sure it was not intended for her. But, no matter, she used it for her own. She heaved herself up it, hooves clattering on the rocky surface. She launched herself from the outcropping, arching though the air. Her mane flew in a white banner behind her, but it was anything but a sign of surrender. Rear legs remained folded, front legs long and braced. She aimed to feel the crunch and buckle of a breaking spine or twisting muscle beneath her.

A midnight princess versus a blackened queen. Who would be the one to fall?
______________
Speech
OOC// Team Earth God!
Ki'irha retreats a bit after sustaining a burn. She receives @Lena 's healing magic. She then charges the god, using the stairs Isopia made as a launching pad. She is aiming to land on the god's back and injure her.
Tagged//
Image Credit
[Image: 5581b91112f69]
Colored by Kels ♡
Lines by Bronzehalo

Please Tag Me ○ Permission for magic and injury is granted. Just no death or permanent harm.

Zèklè Posts: 166
Outcast atk: 8.0 | def: 10 | dam: 3.5
Colt :: Pegasus :: 14.1 :: Three HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
charks
#23
I'll be your number one with a bullet

A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it!
Zero was lucky. Somehow despite his reckless behavior he was able to avoid being hurt, ducking around and between bodies and narrowly avoiding fire, tar, and all other manner of hazards. Miraculously, he wasn't on fire. Other people seemed to be, though, and their screams and the smell of their burning flesh flooded the senses of the wayward boy, creating a new and unpleasant collection of associations within his mind. Was this what war was like? A disaster, an assault, a whole monstrosity of noise and sound and blood and screaming? If he hadn't been so afraid he might have stopped to think about his choices, but as it stood, fear was the only thing keeping the boy alive.

In total, it wasn't what he'd expected at all. He thought he'd feel triumph when he connected with the tiger's leg, but as his hooves pressed down on cracking bone and pliant flesh, all he really felt was a distant, unhappy shock. Had he killed it? For a moment his mind flashed back to a day on the beach, to a small body beneath his hooves, to alarm and dismay and a lack of understanding accompanied by regret. Zero jumped off the crumpled paw, suddenly aghast, terrified for his life. He didn't even know why they were fighting. The hippocampus hadn't felt so different beneath him, really, but then Mesec had been there to tell him it was ok, and now there wasn't anyone, there was just... just...

"Need a sidekick?"

And just like that a shadow appeared, aerial reinforcement, a friendly smile grin on his friendly lips. Zero had never ever been so happy to see someone; he grinned back shakily, some of the clouds easing out of sunbeam eyes, though lines and shades of it remained in the way his feathers ruffled, his ears twirled. But Mesec made him feel brave, reminded him of why he'd run into the fight in the first place, gave the son of fire and lightning borrowed courage with which to fight. Zero was about to call back to his friend, say something brave and bold and exciting and rallying, and then a lot of things happened at once.

First (though he wasn't really sure it was first- it was just the first thing he noticed out of a lot of things happening right then), a fireball fell to the earth in front of him. Or he thought it was a fireball, until it unfurled into its full form, and Zero recognized Gaucho, his maybe-Da, pulled into full height with great wings unfurled. Awe bubbled up in the boy's throat, and something else, like hope? Had Gaucho come to help as Mesec had, to provide backup for his brave maybe-son? Did he- did he finally see Zero as more than just a disappointment? But no. Of course not. The boy's happiness turned to rage as he realized the truth- Gaucho was just there to make sure he ran away, so that he wouldn't have to deal with Ma's rage afterwards.

Gaucho didn't believe in him. He never would.

Or - another, worse thought - maybe Ma had sent Gaucho to get him! Did Ma not believe in him, either? The boy wanted to cry, his tumultuous emotions sending Squishy reeling, spewing electricity in all directions.

Zero might have run away then, had it not been for Thing That Happened Number Two. Bewildered by the appearance of maybe-Da, the boy swung his head back toward Mesec, looking for some reassurance. Instead what he saw was tar, black and steaming and spread across his friend's shoulder like a disease. It made the boy balk, made him fiercely aware of the metal which marred his own barren side, and a terrible thought crossed his mind: would it take away Mesec's wing? Would Mesec, his friend Mesec, find himself broken as a result of this? And all for trying to save him?! Again Zero felt himself choke, his bright eyes widening as he backed away in horror, unable to draw his gaze from that wretched swathe of black. Had he caused this?

"I'm gonna kill it"

And so we see how Thing One and Thing Two led to the inevitability of Thing Three, aka Best Friends Making Poor Decisions. Because now Zero felt the earth moving beneath his hooves, rising as if raised by the force of his desire to prove himself, to kill the Tiger, to avenge his friend, to punish his own stupidity, to make Gaucho respect him, to be Zero the Badass, Zero the Hero, Zero the Rescuer of Friends, instead of just Zero the Weak. The ground raised and the boy followed, blindly pushed by his own overwhelming set of feelings, his anger and fear and insecurity and confusion. He knew what he would do.

Up through fire and smoke and shock he ran, ran to the top of his tower until he was high enough to fly, which is sort of what he did. Sort of. Like a comet of electric blue the boy leaped down from his spire, hurling his tiny body at the massive tiger's back. Black-blue wing splayed open in some attempt to catch his fall, but the boy was going down, his hooves aimed at the monster's spine, the sudden realization of his stupidity ripping a scream from his ears that he only barely recognized as being his own. He was going to die, but at least he'd die a hero.

Right?
image credits


TEAM EARTH
@Mesec @Gaucho @Isopia
Squishy is spewing out electricity in random directions. Zero sees Mesec. Gaucho arrives. Mesec is burned and Zero is afraid that his friend will also lose his wing. He runs up Isopia's staircase and very stupidly throws himself at the Tiger, trying to break its back (or something)

Imonada Posts: 61
Hidden Account atk: 6 | def: 8.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.1hh :: 3 (Frostfall) HP: 58 | Buff: NOVICE
Byrneve
#24

The tiger's blood-curdling screams of agony and rage pierce through the air and Imonada feels it to her very core, which quakes in nearly crazed fear. Wide, white-rimmed eyes pull themselves off her herdmate and superior Resplendence to watch the wretched scene playing out right before them all. For one absurd moment she felt like a foal again, watching the reenactments her folk played out to honor the ancestors and their great battles, the special effects aided by magic and thus hyper-real; it would look just like this, all the actors tossing away their personal identities and adopting the tradition of battle. Only this time it wasn't for show, or for fun; real blood was being spilled, lives were being threatened, and true chaos had come to take them all in its inclusionary embrace. Not once did Imoada think any single soul here would be spared the wrath of the tiger queen, should she prevail.

Fortunately, the raven pegasus used her terror and honed her panic into a fine tool. Always an open book, so vulnerable and contrary to her profession, she could not hide the dread; but neither did she the single-mindedness and determination it fostered. Hearing her own tremor in Resplendence's voice, she adopts a concerned expression and offers her a heavy whisper, so soft compared to the apocalyptic cacophony. "Everything will be okay, I promise, madam."

A bizarre state of existence, for sure, with everything somehow going by so tediously and yet blindingly fast; time warped, their universe focused on this one battle. Although she keeps a cerebral eye on the front, feeling a new spike of panic as flames begin to devour the area, growing into a brilliant inferno that adopts the goddess' fearsome rage, she maintains a legendary cool in spite of the deadly turmoil; it only minutely cracks, manifesting as deep furrows of shock in her brow, when Erthë appears beside them, her leg unnaturally bent, the filly motionless. "Do not crowd her," she commands, maybe even pleads, gently to the others that begin to rush to the pale girl, all the while watching Respledence pinballing around to aid others. Imonada grabs a mouthful of the chamomile, then brings it to the child, laying it by her small nose, hoping the tangy scent would stir her to some semblance of consciousness. "You again? Where are your parents.....? ..... Wake, lassie. You need to eat this." She spoke so tenderly, so serenely, with such care, as if she were purposefully inviting Erthë back to a pleasant reality, despite the true nature of the circumstance; but, Imonada be damned, the girl needed to rouse!

Waiting for the filly to come about, she scans their theater of war, spotting Mauja backing off and seeing an opportunity to aid someone with a boost. She won't leave Erthë until she wakes and swallows the herbs, but Imonada was a planner; she was already calculating her next move, putting sentiment and the desire to comfort aside for the duration of this wildly violent event.


Portrait template base by Wild-Hearts

*Notices Mauja, speaks directly to @Resplendence and indirectly speaks to Aeolus
*Team EG: Has not moved location. Attempts to rouse and give @Erthë the herbs Valiance supplies. While waiting for her to do so, she looks for others to go to next.
elizabeth: you're not telling us everything.
red: let me put your mind at ease; i'm never telling you everything.
--blacklist

force allowed
plotting prior to death/maiming please

[Image: a0jmns.png]
line art by jennyleigh

Galiel Posts: 22
Hidden Account
Filly :: Pegasus :: 16.0 :: 1
Giaerie
#25


I don’t know how long I spent yelling at the hoard of others that formed to help the pegasus guy fight off the beast, before a second familiar face presented themselves. Tiamat, the unicorn mare I followed and met in the glowing room, dodges left and right as she makes her way through the chaos of the others launching their attacks at the creature. My blue eyes follow her as she moves about with such ease until she finally gets on the sidelines like I. Ears swivel backwards out of embarrassment as I notice she sees me and starts heading my way. Did she catch me staring? Gee why did I always have to be caught awkwardly by her?

When Tiamat reaches me though she just praises me in a way for what I was doing and then turns around and asks me to stay where I was. Psh, like I had any intention of actually putting myself into that god awful mess. No. I’d leave that up to those who wanted to fight for now. She bumps my cheek playfully before she returns her attention to the field and I kind of stare at her. The way she acted – the way she behaved around me – it…it reminded me of my own mother. Thoughts stilled in my mind as I grew slightly somber. I missed mother. I missed father. I missed brother. I…I missed the Celestial Wood and everybody in it.

No! Shaking my head slightly I dispersed the dark and sad thoughts that threatened to drive me mad. I wouldn’t let myself fall to its whims. I wouldn’t let myself dwell in the past for much longer. Besides there was a much more pressing matter at hand: the battle between the beast and everybody else.

Despite how much everybody seemed to fight and how much magic they all used, it seemed that the beast was never going to fall. Instead it just stood there for a second and then it struck back. Blue eyes grew wide and I stumbled a little backwards as I watched everybody getting injured. My cheers of encouragement went silent as I saw a smaller white frame thrown to the side as if she was nothing but a toy to the creature.

“Zat girl…,” I managed to whisper to myself through choked breaths, “She vas about my age.”

Tears welled up within my eyes as I looked on to the fire and blood and tar. It was nothing more than a mess. Everybody was getting hurt. Everybody was throwing themselves at the monster only to be struck down like pesky flies.

Memories flashed in my mind of the bloodied home I came to find on my last day in the Celestial Wood. This wasn’t a battle. It was a slaughter. Breaths grew more rapid as I looked at everyone in quick glances. The white girl’s crumpled body still laid on the ground, but there were others surrounding her. No doubt they were trying to heal her, but the action only put themselves at risk. Even the spotted stallion that I had met before had a scratch upon his shoulder. Many were burned by the fires that raged on while others were being hurt by the monster and each other.

Was this what happened? Was this how things went down that day at the Celestial Wood? Did a monster such as this one come and just kill everybody without even caring about a single soul? Did everybody fight not caring about the consequences that would be cast upon themselves?

“Zey need to stop!” I say through the tears now falling down my cheeks. Surely Tiamat could hear what I was saying, but I highly doubt she would know as to why I was reacting as such, “Zey are only getting zemselves killed! Zey need to stop!”

Hot salty tears trickled faster down my cheeks as I looked at Tiamat with a look that begged and pleaded for her to do something, but when she didn’t do anything quick enough I pushed myself forward, moving as fast as I could.

I’m sorry. The words echoed within my very soul as I thought Tiamat would be mad at me for not listening to her. Mother would have been. But I wasn’t going to let what happened at the Celestial Wood happen here. Even though I didn’t know most of the people here, none of them deserved to die. Nobody deserved to die. Not Tiamat. Not the spotted stallion. Not the white girl. Not mother. Not father. Not anybody.

Golden and green wings stretched outwards as I raced towards the cacophonous throng of beings. With each step I pumped my wings to help push me closer to them faster. Until I was finally there – amidst it all. Everybody was running about like a chicken without a head. Several unicorns were trying to impale the monster while a mare seemed to be trying to douse it with mud and water. The spotted stallion seemed to be doing something but what I couldn’t exactly tell. Then there were a couple who were still trying to heal the girl who had fallen. Overwhelmed by the sheer chaos my head snaps back and forth between all of the happenings.

Then my eyes fall upon the beast and I feel a cold, hard knot grow in my stomach. It was the reason all this was happening. It was the reason why everybody was getting hurt. It…it was the only thing around here that needed to die. So I look around at those who had yet to attack it and I see a boy running at the creature with some sort of beings running alongside him.

I suddenly knew what I had to do. As I watched the boy run up higher above the creature’s height preparing to make his attack, I ran towards the back side of the beast covered in burnt flesh, tar, and patches of orange and black fur. When I reached towards the back I took a quick glance at the boy and saw that he was beginning his descent down upon the monster. He had one wing splayed out in an attempt to slow his fall, but where was the other wing? Did he only have one? Desperate to help him my blue eyes look at the monster’s tail flailing about as it seemed more preoccupied with fending off the attacks to the front side. This was it. This was the only chance that both the boy and I would have.

So I quickly reached out with my teeth and attempted to bite down as hard as I could on the monster’s tail. Hopefully this would provide enough time for the boy to recover and get away and when I thought it was all over with I jumped backwards so to avoid any harm to myself.

But let’s be honest, if I got hurt I’d only be one step closer to seeing mother and father and brother again.


"speech"
TEAM EARTH GOD
notes:: Gali spends most of the time on the sidelines with @Tiamat , but when watching the battle brings back the memory of the aftermath of her home's massacre she is sent into like an emotional shock and runs into the fray where she eventually tries to help out @Zèklè by diverting the tiger's attention away from him by biting the tiger's tail. Then jumps away hoping to stay out of harms way.

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Tembovu the Elephant Posts: 805
World's Edge Captain atk: 7 | def: 9.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 18hh :: 10 HP: 77 | Buff: SWIFT
Mbwene :: African Elephant :: Ashen smitty
#26
Tembovu
His hooves meet giving god flesh— so unlike the lizard armor of the Flats battle. He glances over his shoulder to see that he nicks the tigress’s front legs, his large hooves taking off a few layers of skin. And the goddess is too preoccupied with swiping her dangerously clawed paws to retaliate against him. Satisfaction flares in him as he not only remains unscathed thus far, but also that @Nyx had apparently chosen to keep her pregnant belly out of the fray.

But the satisfaction is short-lived. His deep blue eyes meets the confused, accusing gaze of @Rexanna . She was frozen for moments, before leaping into the fray and attacking the tigress wildly and without concern for her own safety. He bellows wordlessly, the sound concerned and scared as he watches her get swatted aside, like a ragdoll. His gilded, lovely ragdoll.

The guilt he had unknowingly been carrying around since his spar and lustful encounter with Nyx leaps into full flame, burning and licking his insides. He starts to move towards his injured lover, but he is halted at the horrendous sound of crunching bone.

Erthe’s leg is the source if such a sickening noise. His blue eyes widen in alarm, and he starts to move towards the foal that was swept so viciously by the tigress. But the God of the Earth is benevolent and wise on the battlefield, and sweeps the child to safety and healers by his side. Though the concern does not leave the elephant— for that had sounded like a nasty break. He will be certain to check on the porcelain girl after the battle.

He swings his giant head back to the prowling goddess. Mauja seemed to have let up on his fire, the amount of flames appeared to die down. He noticed this with relief— not that he didn’t want the deceitful god to burn. He just wished flames to remain far, far away from himself.

He glances at Nyx’s swollen belly once more. But the mare seems to be staying out of the fray. So he leaves the mare who may be carrying his child to find the mare who holds his heart. But he had lost sight of Rex when he glanced to Erthe. Frustration pulled another trumpet from the elephantine stud. These god battles could not be over soon enough.

Amid the chaos of the battle, he sees a shallow bite in the tiger’s belly that had been created by a man he did not know, but had seen at the other battles. He lunges for with his giant and sharply spiraled horn, seeking to eviscerate the goddess. In his guilt, he has forgotten about the dripping tar, and does not avoid it in his attack.
Once more into the fray
credits | table by Neo

Team Earth God.
Summary: Leaps and tries to further open the wound on the Tiger’s belly that Ashamin made (to eviscerate her).

Please tag Tembovu.

Snö Posts: 155
Deceased atk: 4 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: 4 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
ali
#27
image by jouste @ flickr.com</style>



Snö had only just begun to move to try to throw her weight against the tigress to knock her off balance, but the tiger was much faster. Before she could really comprehend what was happening she could feel the searing pain of claws against her side. The pain became unbearable as one slipped so easily between her ribs and into her chest cavity. She cried out as the tiger pushed against her, its claw slipping deeper into her side. Her knees buckled and she hit the ground and was trapped beneath the massive paw for far too long.

She couldn't breathe.

Even after the tigress was no longer standing on her side Snö couldn't seem to catch her breath. She coughed and sputtered and the iron taste of blood filled her mouth and stained her teeth read. She slowly rose to her hooves, still coughing while the battle went on around her. She was angry that she'd been knocked down so easily so early in the fight. She was hurt that her own father didn't seem to even take notice of her when she spoke to him, but she couldn't let it bother her now. She could think about it once the tigress was dead and she was making the long walk back home to the Edge.

Common sense told Snö that she should leave the battle because she couldn't catch her breath, but the desire to prove herself was stronger. She swallowed the blood that filled her mouth and she threw herself back into the battle. Her movements were sluggish and her head felt foggy, but she had to fight. She had to. So she aimed her horn for the tiger's side and threw herself at rift goddess and just hoped that she would hit her target.

".

snö.   </style>
& when she whispers, your blood shall run cold.</style>



team earth
tries to stab the tiger in the side

Aquila Posts: 95
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.2 :: 6 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Craonos :: Common Narwhal Leviathan :: Boil smitty
#28
the tempest of an unrelenting sea



Elation fills the warrior as her bladed horn meets the soft, giving flesh and fur of underbelly. The smooth cut through thin skin and muscle warms her cold blood, large eyes gleaming with delight. The teal and yellow globes sweep upwards to quickly assess the extent of the wound she had inflicted; not shallow, but not terribly deep.

Her enjoyment fades as she backs away from the swiping feline. Vindication tears through her sharp soul as the wordless yowls of agony erupt from the goddess. Good. She had better burn.

Ears remain flush with her ridged neck, eyes glowing with the thrill of battle. Scaled lips pull back from her sharp teeth, listening to the Earth God speak. He brings a white, collapsed pile of foal to his side. A foal had no place in battle. Of course she was injured. Aquila swept the severe, quick thoughts aside and she danced away from burning tar, webbed hooves moving spritely in the shallow water she found herself in.

There was so much magic on this battlefield. She would be careful to avoid it. A sideways glance sees a young colt fling himself off a staircase on to the tiger’s back. Hmm, if she could use part of the staircase…

Lowering her body, she leaps through the water in a bounding gallop. Traveling by earth is so much more cumbersome than swimming. Using the bottom-most steps on the stairs, she uses the higher vantage point to pinpoint her jaws.

There. There was the the pulsing carotid. Leaping and rushing with godsblood in the heat of battle. It begged— no, it demanded her attention.

She leaps, sharp teeth exposed in a snarl. It was her time for vengenance on this goddess of destruction. She had taken her family, her home, her dignity. Now she would take her lifeblood.

This time her attack is silent. No unearthly shriek announces her attack. She assumes that the tigress's dangerous teeth will be preoccupied with the many winged soldier who attack. But, truly, she is more focused on taking what vengeance is due to her. There is no reward  revenge without risk, after all.


Team Kill Tigress.
Summary: Uses the bottom steps of Isopia’s staircase to lunge at the tiger’s neck and try to rip out the carotid with her sharp teeth.

Please tag Aquila in all posts.

Rexanna Posts: 499
World's Edge Mare atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 7 years HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Marembo :: Marbled Polecat :: None Skylark
#29
and you, you knew the hand of the devil.
and you, you kept us awake with wolf’s teeth.
I had just briefly caught Tembovu’s gaze before I tore away mine in my attack on the Tigress. I had managed to do pretty much nothing to the Tigress other than pain myself more – causing quite the flurry of anger to flash before my eyes. I heard nothing. Silence fell upon my ears as my attention was grasped on the Tigress as I bounced back from her, the strong fearsome body of hers beginning to bruise my right side. I could feel my blood rush toward the sections of where I had been hit and the force of the blow made me stagger away for mere moments. I had managed to avoid the fire and tar this far, but I wasn’t sure how long it would last.

Part of me wished I could use magic on the beast, but alas I was powerless here. Nothing I had other than my spiraled gold horn could do anything to the Goddess. Though, I suppose my hooves could as well, but it became more of an afterthought I had before I lunged back at the creature. Rearing up and striking out with my front hooves, ashen colors hoping to pierce the mare with tar dripping from her stripes. At this point I wasn’t paying attention hardly at all to anything other than the beast I was trying to take down.

My head was throbbing and my mind got swept away in thought as I attempted my attack. Silence still fell over the scene from my ears as my mind drifted to the possibility of what was to be between Tembovu and I if the gray mare’s child was his? He seemed so upset with me when he found out my affair with Caleb – yet I had met Caleb before Temb. The elephant had been the other man. And suddenly I began to feel exactly how Caleb had. Frustration and regret to the point of where I wasn’t sure what to do. I had thought that my feelings before were worse enough but not this time. I realized my actions toward the hybrid stag were nothing short of being a bitch which I sincerely hoped Tembovu wouldn’t just drop me like I had with Caleb.

Then I figured I should probably go when this was over to search for the tall, dark, and mysterious creature I had managed to stay away from. Perhaps I could see what we could get from it. Friendship perhaps? Something else maybe? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know what I could do for myself if Tembovu had a child of his own – the child that I wanted so desperately to bear for him. What could anyone do? Perhaps I needed to speak with Ashamin, that would clear things up one could hope.

"Talk?"
image credits


Mentions: @Tembovu
@Random Event – HFH.

TEAM EARTH GOD! Rexanna gets hit and bruised by the Tigress and turns back in the hopes of striking the Tigeress with her front hooves in her lower stomach, completely forgetting about the fire and tar around her.
[Image: lovelyskylark.gif?8]
Permission given for moderate power play.
Feel free to use magic/force on Rexanna, without killing her.
Please tag in every post!

Tiamat the Ocean's Light Posts: 360
Aurora Basin Lady atk: 8 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: 6 years HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Nimue :: Common Orca Leviathan :: Boil Reli
#30
Standing at the filly’s side allows the blue mare to ground herself amidst the chaos that thrashes around them, the young one’s presence as comforting and endearing as anything could be at a time like this. Her cries of inspiration even bring a familiar smile to her dark lips, nostrils curling as she exhales heavily in a comforting breath, her tail curving out behind her (not unlike a cat’s, standing at attention). Unfortunately, even Galiel’s pure, candid encouragement is not enough to melt the hate and chaos completely away, and she is ever aware of the pain that clouds the humid jungle before them.

White eyes watch the battlefield—the ghastly scenes that unfold make her cringe, igniting her muscles with the instinct to run, to flee and spare herself of this violence, but her healing heart is far too strong to abandon them. Her gaze is wide and intense in her earnest, dainty ears dancing with the sounds of battle. It isn’t long before a sudden snapping of movement seizes her attention, her head shifting to the side and her heart leaping into her throat when she sees the Time Mender collapse. “ENNA!” Tiamat cries for her friend, her voice shadowed by horror.

Looking back to the winged filly, the ocean mare presses her muzzle to her forehead, breathing deeply. “I’ll be back,” it is a whispering promise, a hope that the young one will keep herself safe while duties call her away, before she turns in a twirl of hair and shells. Cloven hooves move quickly through the undergrowth, her gaze skirting between the battlefield and her friend. By the time she reaches the brown mare, there are already two stallions guarding her—her Lord Deimos, and a dappled stranger she doesn’t recognize. “Thank you so much,” she casts a heartening smile to them both, her appreciation honest and sincere for their protection.

“Enna,” Tiamat turns her attention to the fallen Mender. Looking her over, the blue mare notices her bruised side and wounded head, which has begun to bleed. Arching her neck, Tiamat picks through the herbs and sprigs weaved into her hair, first snatching a shoot of yarrow. Grinding the small flowers into a powder with her hoof and making a paste, she applies the salve to Enna’s injuries, primarily her head. Satisfied that infection will not set in, she grasps a mixture of valerian and comfrey root next, meant to help ease the pain, diminish swelling, and quicken the healing process. Tiamat does not have restorative magic as others do, but she works quickly and efficiently, doing her utmost best in mending her dear friend and herd mate.

Stepping back, the ocean mare shifts her attention to the stallions. “She just needs to wake now,” a brief, worrying glance is cast again to the brown mare, but her gaze doesn’t linger for long—no need to make herself more anxious in fretting. Her attention almost reluctantly returns to the battlegrounds, and it is with a shuddering gasp of horror that she sees the winged filly. “Galiel—NO!” She takes a step closer, the weight of her body leaning forward, white eyes wide with fear as she watches the pale filly throw herself recklessly into the fray.


notes; TEAM EARTH GOD (unofficially)
Stays with @Galiel until she sees @Enna fall, and rushes to her aid. Thanks @Ciceron and @Deimos for their protection. Attempts to heal/alleviate Enna's wounds with yarrow to stop infection, and valerian/comfrey root to stop pain/swelling. Then notices with horror that Galiel has leapt into the battle.

“Speech.”
And at last I see the light.
image credits
please tag Tia in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.

Morenth Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#31
 

    MORENTH

_______________
   

A white flash appeared out of the corner of his eye and the sweet but cool voice of Ophelia filled his ears. It took him but a moment to register what she was talking about and when he did a deep flush filled his cheeks as he realized that she must've seen him slip. With a small, sharp nod he grunted, "aye." His knees still stung from the fall, but he soon forgot about it as he struck out. He did not feel the soft, tarry flesh of the tigress against his hoof and knew that he had missed. All around him he could hear horrible cries erupting as the tigress fought back. Some were battle cries, some triumphant but others sent a chill down his spine.

Tilting his head he saw Ophelia drive her long horn into the creature's chest and he felt himself grin, but it was not over yet. He eyed the fire travelling towards them with apprehension, ready to leap over the flames when the small, silver dragon leaped from his perch, hovering over the fire he drowned it in an icy cool breath. In an instant the fire around them both was put out, but tar still spewed from the tigress, drenching the ground in dark, boiling veins. He hissed as some splashed against his exposed fetlocks, the substance sending white hot spikes of pain through him as he lifted his legs in a hopeless attempt to escape it. He dropped his head to rub against them, to try and ease the burning sensation when Ophelia's cool voice returned to him. He nodded, giving her a look of gratitude. "Thanks," he drew his attention to the tiger, his hooves moving him back, determined to stay out of reach of those giant paws. His ears flattened against his nape as the tigress screeched and roared, clenching and unclenching his teeth he wondered if he dared to strike at her again. 

From the air Helovian's used magic to fire at the tiger while on the ground he suddenly realized that a lot of them used magic as well. Unnatural flames flickered into life by some unknown source, the air thick with smoke, blood and burning flesh, drowning his flared nostrils. In comparison to those around him, he did not have much to offer to match the strength of magic and he felt humbled, awed and annoyed at his sudden incompetence. At home he could match the others stride for stride, but here? He was no more than a fickle colt hoping to join the mighty stallions whose strength were unrivalled. Heaving a heavy breath he pondered his choices, choices that had to be made in seconds. Morenth turned towards Ophelia and suddenly knew he wanted to prove that he was, indeed, useful. "Are you ready to go again?" He asked, ignoring the searing pain of his fetlocks and the cries of agony around him in case he ended up changing his mind. 

He waited but a moment to hear her answer, whatever it might be, time was of the essence and Morenth could wait no longer. He launched himself forward on powerful hindquarters, quickly closing the gap between himself and the tiger with long, ground eating strides. His ears lay flat against his neck, his teeth bared and in the heat of the moment a snarl escaped his parted lips. While he still refused to plunge his face into tigers hot, tar-ridden flesh (especially after experiencing it first hand), he did not turn on his haunches as he did before. Instead he rose mid stride, striking out his two front hooves as he used the momentum of his pace to drive him forward and hopefully to give him the strength and power he would need to deal her a good blow. 

Mentions: @Ophelia
Team Earth God! 
Morenth lunges forward once more, this time intent on causing harm. He rears and using the momentum of his strides he hopes to shove his front hooves into the tiger, perhaps to knock her off balance?

   

_______________
       

Dacianna Posts: 55
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.1hh :: 4 Y/O HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
imi
#32
Swept out of sight, rolling up on an ocean,
Let's cut all the ropes and get lost in the moment


One moment she was charging, the next she was on fire… Literally.

A scream ripped from her mouth as the tar burned into her back and tore fur from skin, scarring her once beautiful roan coat. Pain glazed over in her eyes and she stumbled backwards, feeling it blaze through her making her teeth grit as she danced around, ears flat against her neck. The battle didn’t relent and instead raged on whilst Dacianna attempted to make a retreat. She wasn’t going back into that, the black mess was everywhere and, even when the burning subsided a little, it hurt every time so much as a hair from her mane brushed against it. Did this world have healers? Fuck, would she even know what one looked like?! Too bad they didn’t go around with a sign and a flashing arrow above their head for the walking wounded to limp over to.

The tiger snarled, the Earth God roared and Dacianna stumbled further and further back. Her fever-ridden eyes glazing across the battlefield as she watched them charge into battle with powers of their own, magic they could cast themselves and eventually she found it difficult to differentiate between this world and the one she had just been in. It was all chaos, where was the promised peace? She should know by now not to trust promises, even if the one giving them was a courteous looking bearded giant with such an endearing voice. However, in the end, she failed to see just who was the villain and who was the hero; everything was anarchy and fire and... Pain.

Of course, in any disarray there were casualties and whilst Dacianna definitely felt like a casualty she didn’t quite look as bad as the little winged squirt that had been pulled from the battle. She makes a move for the sidelines, near the gathering of concerned non-combatants as her eyes stream water from the pain on her back, but she says nothing and watches them try to save the motionless dove with growing concern.

Briefly she thought of returning into battle, but this time her cloven hooves were planted firmly into the ground. What was the point? She didn't have any kind of power that these creatures seemed possess, all she had was the weight in her hooves and the edge of her horns. The blue mare had already burned for this unknown place and now she felt quite reluctant to burn for it again.



No Attack.

Sustains 2nd/3rd degree burns across her back, due to injury Dacianna retreats from the main battle to stand near the group trying to heal Erthë. [Team Earth God]
Don't let the curtain catch you, cause you've been here before,
The chair is an island darling, you can't touch the floor
--------------------------
force permitted / please tag me

Dragomir Posts: 275
World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Bunnie
#33
Fire and other magical elements rage about them, forcing the more narrow strands of his dark hair to drift in the super heated air, the smoke making each breath hurt as entangled particles of incinerated tar, flesh and hair meets with his nostrils. Fear, instinctual and deep, thrums through his body, bringing every fiber of his being alive, the same dark waves that had undulated in the fight that night in the willow grove rising in answer to that terror which had held him on the sidelines as he watches Ranjiri leap into the fray fearlessly, her hooves slamming down on the paw of the Tigress with a ferocity that surely had surely splintered the bone within.

The sight of her fearlessness, of God’s blood upon her brow, stirs some masculine sensibility within the stallion, who grows ever more stalwart in his drive to defend the small healer from whatever danger may come close. Even when the ground roils beneath his hooves, the painted stag time and again keeps persevering to stand between the gathering herbalists and healers, the flame and threat of the Tiger.

He does not see the child thrown aside like a cloth doll, having superimposed himself between Resplendence and the flames at that very moment, his legs burning with the heat of the fire which seems to come from a hundred magicians and black lacquered sources. His shout of pain as he stomps the fire out joins with the screams of the meek and the wounded, cut short when the shimmering form of Erthe appears at Resplendence’s hooves.

His own minor wounds forgotten, the stallion catches the tailing end of his friend’s words to a dark stag (who seems odd in some way Dragomir cannot place in the frantic pace of everything going on). That she may never walk properly again makes the stallion feel suddenly angry with the world, a sadness layering over it until the battle becomes a drone about his mind, which is lost on the abysmal truth that children were fighting in Helovia’s wars.

How blessed that Mirage was not here, he thinks again.

Her thank you is answered with a smile, one that is brief and lights the depths of his blue eyes from the shadows that had stolen them at the sight of the child and her mangled leg. He nods, following alongside her, between she and the flames, as she tries to reach and help Archibald, trying his best to focus on what he can do to help – rather than the child who is past any, or his Ranjiri, who fights too far away for him to protect.

Dragomir

[ Summary:
Obviously there is more than this but for simplicity's sake - tries to keep between Resplendence and danger still as she moves to help Archibald. ^^
Lots of mentions!
Ranjiri, Resplendence, Erthe, Badger, probably more o_o ]
Wishlist | Table Tracker  

Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3

Ghost the Cadaverous Posts: 219
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16hh :: 6 years HP: 67 | Buff: ENDURE
Fantôme :: Grey Wolf :: None imi
#34
Dead men tell no tales.



Ghost grunted in satisfaction as her ice forms under the tiger and, for a moment, unbalances it. It was better than nothing at all. Still, her brows furrow as she struggles to see a way in as fire ignites the battlefield once again and the sprite could feel her lips curling as the heat rose up from the earth. She thought about just biting the bullet and diving in headfirst but then cringed as she remembered the tar below. A burnt face wasn’t a good look, though she thought of Abaddon and snorted; perhaps she was being too mean. Yet, her attack would have to be now and she anchored herself to plunge downwards whilst listening to the Earth God yell in defiance. 

She looked for others she knew, herd mates to aid or moment to lunge in. In the end, her gaze caught the movement of the bay Pegasus from last time [Nephele] as she lifted up into the air only to plunge at the tiger God below and Ghost tried to follow her. There was a moment she thought about using her illusion magic, but no matter how much she tried she couldn’t concentrate on the tiger long enough to cast it and eventually gave up.

Dipping from the sky, the banshee pulled her wings closer to her armoured sides and tried to gain some speed, hoping it would add power to the end product. As she did so, she followed the path of the bay mare [Nephele] and shadowed her into combat, following up the elder bay’s attack with one of her own. The spy prayed for a decent hit, at least better than her last attempt with the Crocodile, as she stretched out her back legs and attempted to slam them into the tiger’s skull area.

The sprite hoped it hit, if not she was mightily close to either a bite from a hungry tiger or being burned by disgusting look black goo.



Follows after Nephele and tries to pummel the tigers head/skull with her back hooves from above. Wearing armour. [Team Earth God]

Let the heat of the sun
Reignite your memory
Because if we just turn and run
Let them fire the gun

❚ Force permitted, just don't kill her :3
❚ Please tag me!
❚ Pixel by Nyte
Ascended Helovian

Ophelia the Amaranthine Posts: 701
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath Tamme
#35

And when my sins are just a memory...

Ophelia didn't quite understand his embarrassment, but then again, she rarely understood such normal emotions. She as uniquely damaged, able to remember everything, but in order to make room for years of detail, her instincts took a hit. Normal, social behavior and that prickle on the back of your neck were all but dead to her, and thus she nodded once, not the least bit judgmental. Everyone fell sometime. So, she turned her attention back to the tiger, feeling her spiraled horn slip between sinew and bone. An arrow had pierced just above her mark, but she had widened the damage considerably.

Slick, black blood coated her horn as she yanked it free, and she grimaced tightly, feeling the flecks dot her skin. At least this blood didn't burn - which was a welcome change to these battles. Ophelia stepped back then, ducking the swipe of a paw just as flames erupted around them, the black, inky blood catching fire like oil. The pale princess watched as destruction burned along the ground, snuffing out quickly, and Tinek jumped into action. He opened his jaws to release frost that cooled the flames, rescuing them from pain.

It seemed, however, that some of the tar was flicked up onto Morenth, and she frowned apologetically, mimicking his expression as the tigress roared, ears pressing against her skull. He offered his thanks, and she nodded. "Sorry we couldn't get it all," she said in return, her strange, dual colored eyes constantly sweeping the battle field with practiced ease. Violence was a staple in her bloodline, and the crimson that adorned her hide was evidence of her lineage. Generations of warlords and murderers ran in her veins, all crying out for the blood of her enemies. Only locked into battle did she feel this all consuming peace, mind whirring in over time.

A small grin worked on her features when he asked if she was ready, and Ophelia nodded. "Always," she replied, following him stride for stride into the battle once more. She lunged forward, taking stock of his actions and going around the other side. Ophelia aimed to use the point of her horn as a hook. If Morenth was successful in shoving the tigress over a bit, then hopefully she would end up speared upon her weapon. All the while, Tinek spiraled overhead, trying to snuff out flames near his bonded and the stripey one as much as he could.


THANKS KAY




Contest Winner and Team Earth God
Ophelia tries to spear on the OPPOSITE side of Morenth so that Morenth can shove the tigress into her horn. Tinek is putting out fires around them.


@Morenth




Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.


Please tag me in every response!

Erthë Posts: 440
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Chan
#36
E r t h ë
"And now I wish to God that The earth would turn cold
And my heart would forget it's made of glass"


The world was peaceful, calm and warm. She drifted lazily through soothing streams of glittering light, watching with contentment how amber clouds and pearly bubbles floated by. In this place she was safe, protected and soothed. No sadness existed here, nor did pain or worry trouble her. All she felt was a quiet curiosity as she gazed about; it was impossible to say where she was, but Erthë felt no fear. Everything was as it should be. She had all the time in the world, because time did not exist here. It was a moment between seconds, embedded in a ray of light and contained within the essence of water, of wind, of everything that was kind and loving and beautiful.

Yet, even as she relaxed into the peace that came with acceptance, other, less pleasant sensations began to make themselves noticed. Pain, distant yet sharp and grinding, kept prodding her senses. She tried to turn away from it, didn't want to acknowledge it; the memories that belonged to the sensation were chaotic and frightening, so she didn't want to remember. Sounds reached her too, but she flicked the ears, unwilling to listen. Someone was calling for her, said her name with such persistence and fear... and on a clammy, stifling hot breeze a scent began to scatter the clouds, the streams, the pretty amber light. Saddened and reluctant the filly cried in protest, objected and pleaded for the peace to stay, to keep cocooning her in sweet, merciful oblivion. But no. The lights faded and she plunged headlong into deep, smothering pits of darkness, swirling faster and faster, down, down, down...

Slowly, like a radio being turned up from mute, her senses came back to her. Sounds grew from indistinct mumbles into an explosion of sound; of thundering hooves, angry shouts and pained yells and a rumble and snap and crackle of magic fires sizzling through the air. The darkness behind her eyelids was alluring, wanted to drag her back down into unconsciousness; Erthë had to force them apart and found herself blinded by the glaring sunlight. Over her towered blurry shapes, shadowed silhouettes against a sky that was painfully blue, albeit somewhat stained by acrid black smoke and flying soot. It took her some time to register the faces, the voices, their love and concern; uncle Badger was there, uncharacteristically agitated, and others with him. Strangers, unfamiliar faces, but she was sure that if she turned her head and glanced sideways towards the din of battle she would see others she knew. Friends, family, bonds she didn't want to see severed.

A bundle of herbs lay before her nose and a persistent mare was telling her to eat. The scent was sharp in her nose, prickled and stung and made her sneeze.

And the sudden jerk of the head sent a spasm through the body.

Excruciating pain shot through the right foreleg, pain such as she had never felt before in her life. Erthë wanted to scream and writhe and drown herself in that place of light again, but the only sound that crossed her lips was a soft groan, a pitiful whimper that was completely insufficient and in no way could convey the full brunt of her torment.

Desperate for something, anything to stave off the pain she snapped at the herbs and forced herself to chew, to make her jaws grind and process the bitter mass even though her mouth was dry and the throat clogged with unshed tears. And her thoughts went to the shot she had fired, to the pretty bow that lay thrown aside on the ground, to the father and his sweet companion and the faces she had seen swirl by in a blur of color as she tumbled through the air.

Erthë thought of all of it, the battle and the Tigress and the kind-looking Earth God... and she couldn't bring herself to care about anything but the pain. It ate away everything that mattered until only agony remained, and a tiny, chafing prick of guilt over not being able to get up to keep fighting.

But she couldn't move, other than to shift her head slightly so that hazy, bleary eyes could follow the battle, half terrified and half envious of all those who could continue to be out there and make a difference.

"And all the pretty tulips would disappear
And never disturb me again"



TEAM EARTH - CONTEST WINNER

Summary; Erthë eats the herbs offered to her but is in too much pain to move. Unable to keep fighting.

~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#37

An overwhelming sense of victory reigned across his skull as his rapier hit its mark, as his sword met flesh, as it tore and gashed and lacerated and swept through hide. Though it was hardly a conquest or crusade, it was one notch towards vengeance, one plunge amidst decadence and regime and toppling towers with their massive power and acrimonious ties – it showed him, for the smallest of moments, that even those so wicked, so vile, so repugnant, could be touched, could be flayed, could be scalded and scorched.
 
It was a touch, a taste, a droplet of what the world had to offer; scintillating, cruel, and divine.
 
It uncovered disaster, ruin, and condemnation – the searing sport of kings and cretins, titans and goliaths, fallen seraphs and tiny demons, all brooding, all brewing, all calculating beyond knives, daggers, and hate – and his sights were simmering and menacing, locked between the nestled barbs and thorns. The prince was suddenly avaricious, ravenous, greedy and calculating, wanting anything and everything: from wreckage to opulence.
 
He savored it for the briefest of seconds, a surge of momentum, a blistering awareness of finite glory, and then incriminating eyes suddenly widened, shocked, surprised, that he’d managed to maul through the layers of loathing. Thereafter, he was suddenly at a loss of what to do – over the wails, along the screams, upon the ramparts and fortifications he’d chased and harbored and abhorred, and his forelegs shook, quivering, trembling, weakening?
 
Was he afraid? Was he frightened?
 
The sensations didn’t coil amongst his heart or his veins, and his stare fixated upon the other child throwing her gales, her tremors, her bellows, and ascertained she was the cause – in all her hate and sentiments, she too had fought and labored – he ducked off to the side, where Orsino twitched and hissed, struggling to gather the remnants of strength back into his legs (so he could fight, so he could conquer, so he could win for just a change, just a moment where no one he cherished fell apart in a broken, bloody mess, gone and gone and gone).
 
Then Mirabella, so unknown beyond the granules of ice forged between then, ties melded and molded from caverns and rooted lineage, shouted at him, used her enchantments to awaken some shimmering portal, to grant him escape from the wicked doldrums…
 
And if he did: would that make him a coward? A weakling?
 
Yet, if he stayed to fight the giant cretin, would that make him stupid?
 
“I’ll see you again,” he growled amidst the rolling plains of hate and ambition, seething, molten and incensed, aiming it straight for the painted monster and his bitter edges, then he shifted to Mirabella’s gift, and took it like a voracious predator, carved a “Thank you!” from the great swells of emotion and pride, followed its guiding force with Orsino in tow and legs shaking, stumbling, fumbling, desperate for another chance at treachery, at barbarity. From the savage twinges, they coiled and contorted, shoved out from the precious sanctum mere instances later, as if it were all a fast-paced dream and naught held them back but the ties of danger and the sanctity of moments:
 
Arriving near his father, another stag, the sea healer, and Enna, collapsed upon the ground.
 
He choked back a throng of vile scorn, derision, and disgust, but it floored him all the same (because one more had bit into the dust, another friend collided with the earth and there’d been nothing he could do and he was always a step behind, a moment too late). The art of disdain held him in its clutches, and the threads of his malice unfurled, uncoiled, ricocheted past their wares and towards the tiger goddess, intent on destruction, on persecution, on havoc, twisting and turning, aiming to corrupt her lungs, slow her breathing, choke the life out of her celestial soul.
 


[Team Earth God.

Snarls briefly at Abraham, but can’t continue fighting him in his weakened state. Takes Mirabella’s offered portal, and lands near Enna, Tiamat, Ciceron, and Deimos. Unleashes dark corruption magic towards Tiger Goddess, hoping to use it to choke her.]
 

Image Credits


@Abraham @Mirabella @Enna [for brief mentions. <3]

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#38

ASHAMIN

Success didn't feel like success, anymore.

He bit down and pulled flesh from muscle, spattered blood on the earth, and he had done well. Objectively, from a warrior's standpoint, he was succeeding with grace. He did not falter, he did not stumble--he did not even catch a drop of tar upon his flesh. And yet, he was dissatisfied.

How was one meant to feel good about killing? Ashamin had not aspired to become a warrior for this reason, and participating in such blatant and murderous violence was, at last, making his sick. It was true he was protecting others, but how much? Still, so many would die. Still, so many would be crippled for life.

His body twisted beneath violence and he drew himself out from under shadow until he was back in the open air. His sturdy forelegs carried his weight, his back ones tensed and sprang, and he felt himself kick with all his force. But he felt disassociated, separate. It was an out of body experience, perhaps, but not in any positive way.

What the haruspex wanted to do was turn and run, run home to the Basin and far from this senselessness. Surely they had enough  But that would be cowardice, and brave ones were watching. How would it look if he ran when healers and children were risking their lives? He didn't want to abandon them, either.

What he really wanted was for everyone to turn and leave--to leave immortal business such as this to the gods alone.

But Ashamin could think all he wanted, for still he was fighting. Still he was spitting a god's fur from his lips and running, bucking, striving to hit. What was this, reflex? Instinct?

Or was it something deeper, darker, and much worse?

""



The Haruspex
Image Credits


Team Earth


Pulls away from biting at the tigress' underbelly and runs under her, bucking just as he clears her shadow to try and hit a rib.


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
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Rohan Posts: 132
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.0 :: 8 years HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
Éomer :: White-tailed Eagle :: Scream Reli
#39
Rohan
He aims, thrusting his large body forward, ready to maim, impale, wound, and conquer.

—and—nothing

All too quickly, the large tigress moves, her striped body springing ahead and out of the line of his path. Brown lips twist in anger and a snarl erupts from between bared teeth, ears burying further into the thick mess of his mane as bodies bustle around him, the weight of his antlers seeming to multiply as their sharp points graze nothing but air. Arching his back, the Warlander falters for only a moment in his momentum before diving forward once more, thrusting his muscled neck outward almost blindly. The throbbing of his head leaves him in a haze, teeth seeking recklessly, hungrily for the flesh of the tigress.

Perhaps it is only by chance that he sees her, a tiny body amidst the chaos, too easily lost in their violent throng, or perhaps it is some higher power that encourages his head to arch to the side, just right. Pulling back sharply in hopes of ripping muscles from bone, Rohan’s wild eyes glance upon her just as she hits the ground—just as her slender body crumples, bruised and burned. “Enna—!” And suddenly, unexpectedly, fleetingly, everything else is forgotten.

The frenzied commotion of battle abruptly fades, his heartbeat drowning out their clamor as it leaps and twists, painfully plunging into his stomach as his eyes watch her unmoving figure with an anxiousness and desperation he hadn’t known he was capable of (and he would deny it, how his heart had throbbed far louder than his head, how—for a moment—nothing else seemed to matter but her, and his burning desire to know that everything will be all right). He would only flash a smirk and laugh about it later, masking, even to himself, what his heart had told him in that short, fleeting moment—

—but this is now.

Plunging his body forward and kicking out in a final, half-hearted attempt to wound the striped beast, Rohan weaves through the throng of bodies, his eyes hardly leaving the brown mare. By the time he reaches her, she is not alone, surrounded by three other stallions and a mare, but disregarding the crowd, he rushes to her side, hovering over her fallen frame. “Enna,” her name is nearly a gasp, a plea, a command to usher her back into consciousness (back to him). Lowering his muzzle, the Warlander brushes the curls of her hair from her face, his warm breath billowing out across her features.

Noticing the salve on her wounds, the antlered stallion glances up to the blue mare who stands near, assuming she had been the healer to tend to Enna. “Will she be all right?” The question leaves him in earnest desperation, his eyes squinting against the ache that pulses through his skull, his own pain temporarily overlooked. It is strange, how such a small moment can be so pivotal—whether he allows himself to believe it or not.


notes; TEAM EARTH GOD.
After missing, he turns to bite viciously at the tigress, and then pivots to kick at her before rushing to @Enna
Also @Ciceron @Deimos @Erebos (for very brief mentions)
“Speech.”
keep my glass full until morning light,
‘cause I’m just holding on for tonight
Image Credits!
@Random Event for HFH
[Image: 57c5195f31f1b_by_relibelli-db9li1z.png]
please tag Rohan in all replies!
magic & force is permitted, excluding death or permanent injury.

Ahvelyn Posts: 44
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 hh :: 13 [Orangemoon] HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Jen
#40
Awesome quote can go here!

Whatever that stallion did gave me strength that felt more renewing than I'd ever before experienced. A smile--a rare appearance--sprang across my features and blessed him. He was a paint, younger than I and smelling of falls and woods where I smelled of ice. His differences didn't matter to me so much as his goodness. He had stopped, he had seen my pain and he had helped. It was enough, it was help, it was kindness. I appreciated that more than anything else.

"Thank you," I said to him as if I had never thanked anyone  before, as if he was truly the first to receive such a blessing. Thank you.

There was enough sincerity in the two words to drown a bull. Maybe he'd feel its effects, feel his lungs fill with kindness. He would certainly be the only one who would--couldn't help but cast a glare after the dark gelding for ignoring me, and when I turned back to the battlefield, running a little too far in my state of odd healed delirium, Rohan got bumped.

Shoved, really. Well, I thought it was him; with my hair flying about me it was a little difficult to tell, I had to admit. But maybe it was nothing, maybe it was air or the Tigress herself. But I saw his jaws snap and I lunged forward with my horns aiming for the same target, hoping to add insult to injury. As much as I hated to take down a fellow strong woman like she, I sensed that no good could come from a tar-dripping demon left to live in this world.

As for Rohan? Well, surely he'd be fine.
""
AHVELYN
image credits


Team Earth


Feeling better, thanks @Miykael , runs towards tigress and tries to stab the Tigress where @Rohan has tried to bite her. Possibly shoves Rohan by miscalculating.

@Random Event for HFH


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