the Rift

Sheer and Wild Abandon [Ghost vs Abaddon]

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

continued from here

Ghost found her expressions often flickered between being half amused and half in thought, the stallion prodded and poked at her almost as much as she did. It was… Enjoyable, for the most part. His words rumbled out of his mouth like he had been plucked from hell and he quite fancied himself to be a demon. Yet, the banshee had to hand it to him, he had the appearance; he also seemingly had the history and Ghost looked forward to the future, to the stories that would be attached to his name. His opinion of her mother warmed her heart and humoured her. "How primal of you… Not that you’re wrong, I turned out perfectly" she declared with a flick of her tail. Was this a charming trait he possessed? The Cadaverous eyed him curiously, watching his movements with a side-glance of appreciation and enjoying all 17.3hh of his rippling muscle. He wasn’t that bad really, the scar just made him edgier and his frame curved handsomely enough that it drew her attention to places that her eyes didn't normally linger. 
"A well equipped one, that far outnumbered ours" she shrugged when he asked of the army that invaded the Falls. They hadn't needed to be either, their numbers alone were enough, her tiny herd had crumbled easily. Ghost knew part of it was her fault, she hadn’t read the signs nor had she the alliances or fire power to stand up to it, but sometimes she couldn’t help but feel wronged in some aspects… Again. Another punch in the gut to remind her that she had not one friend on the entire earth to call on. For a while, the banshee thought she’d be fine with that, the less there was to care for the less it would hinder her. Now… She knew what it was like to worry about another, to care for another and to protect another. Yet, she was the lonely number one, the weird one in the background no one really wanted to talk to and, sometimes, it hurt just a little. However, now she was stood before this towering devil she didn't feel so alone and she clung to the Dragons Throat like it was her only saviour. Even more so, her gaze lingered on Abaddon as if he was the only thing sturdy enough to grab onto in the raging flood of emptiness that made her life feel so desolate. She wanted to reach out to him so much, except the anxious voice in the back of her mind held her back and she hesitated. 
The topic had gotten heavy, but Ghost zoned in on one answer he gave and a mischievous smile appeared on her sooty lips. "Oh! Why is that? What will you do if I get closer?" she played and taunted, edging a little closer to him as she spoke with her eyes glittering curiously. Part of her did quiver a little from him, he was quite overbearing, but Ghost had trust in herself to know when the right time to run for the back door was and now didn’t seem like the time. "There’s more?! You can’t tell me there’s more to the story and not tell me what it is" she moaned at him as she shot him a disgusted look. However, a thought occurred to her as she thought back to her earlier request of him and, quite decisively, she decided that the someday spar should be today. Right now, in fact. If he wasn’t going to tell his juicy little tale then she should at least beat him up for it, right?
"Maybe I should show you how courageous I really am" the words slipped off her tongue quite suggestively as she sauntered towards him. Her dark eyes never left his face as her footfalls became more careful, more concise and her lips twisted into a sweet smile before finally she activated the pocket watch underneath her wing. The armour slid smoothly over her body, no longer weighing her down on one side and Ghost hoped to take him by surprise. She plunged forwards, aiming her long, spiral horn for the left side of his shoulder. "Go on, jog my memory" she dared and encouraged.

1/3 | 711 words
Setting: Dragons Throat, clear sky, typical warm tallsun day.
Ghost won't be using her companion.

Summary: Ghost equips her armour and charges for Abaddon, trying to cut his left shoulder with her horn.

Since its your first go at a spar, I'll summarise each attack/defence to make it simpler :D 
Good luck Danjah <33
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

Abaddon Posts: 42
Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 7 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.3hh :: 6 :: Ages in Frostfall HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
The hell boy watched the fae's expressions as they continued their conversation. She was intriguing creature, one that didn't seem to run away from him. Was she enjoying this? Sadist, he thought with a hint of lust for the dark creature. He did not speak out loud on this, but he did almost respect Ghost for still standing in his presence and speaking with him. He had seemingly done well with his talk about her mother, and she replied with a flicker of humour in her tone. He simply spread a dark smile across his velveteens and dipped his blackened cranium in acknowledgement to her,
"I was brought up in a primal environment, Ghost. The base instincts and ideas are all anybody needs," his tone remained dark and deep as she spoke further, "I have yet to see if you turned out perfectly but I can see it was verging on that." Abaddon even let out a slight grin at this, full of humour. The dark brute took little notice of her pools scrutinizing his body, as this was exactly part of the primal instincts he spoke of.

And then it turned back to armies, which Abaddon could feel the stories lingering within his system and churning up all of his own memories and desires to battle once more. Talk of death and despair really did get him going, and he wanted to find out the best details of the fighting that took place in this strange land before his ascendence on it, but he felt that now seemed like quite not the time. He remained silent in order not to open up Ghost's waterworks. He wanted the hard gritty details, not the blubbering of a female's sad viewpoint on this. The best creatures to talk to were the stags who had played a part in the war, the ones who remained here with their skulls raised high on their necks and a pride in their eyes.

Ghost's pools lit up in a sly style with her velveteens opening up to a mischevious smile that taunted the hell boy. She wanted to find out more of his past, and he chuckled with a booming vocal box that seemed to echo over the desert of the Dragon's Throat.

"There's more?! You can't tell me there's more to the story and not tell me what it is."

The look of pure disgust was written all across her pretty cranium, and with humour swelling up inside him at the funny facial expression he had a neat little idea. Abaddon smiled once more towards her, having an idea in his mind that what she wanted would give him something he yearned for too. With the thoughts still fresh in his mind, the blackened brute spoke to her with a proposition,
"Fight me, and if you win I will tell you all of what happened to me, and what happened regarding this," He tilted his cranium up to the left side, letting the late sun's rays cast a red glow to the already horrendous looking burn wound. He then continued, "But if you lose, you hear nothing of it and I get to hear everything about the war, details and all." His orange pools glowed with a fire of determination, wondering whether he could get the Throat spy to agree.

But in the same instant Ghost seemed to already have the same idea. Her words of courageness fell on well-toned lobes that were used to hearing spouts of bravery from all kinds of creatures. He should have expected it to come from a female spy with a dark tendency. And she shall get a fight if she wishes, Abaddon thought silently to himself. He piped up in good time, "I won't be making this easy for you, remember that." The humour within that post was soon replaced with an aggressive and sinister plot in his brain. He mapped out all of the points of the fae that he felt he could take advantage of, from the weak underbelly to the point between her cheeks and neck. All the weakest points would be so easy if he were able to get a good grip with his crown of blackened spiralling horns. He watched intently as Ghost prepared herself by fitting over her armour that had actually not noticed before. Her pelt and the armour seemed to shine in the immense heat of the Tallsun sun, with the desert making a fitting beginning to his fighting days in Helovia. If Ghost was hoping for an easy win to claim back her prowess and to further boast to the rest of the herd that she had beaten the great Abaddon, the hell boy was aiming to snap that away from her.

And then suddenly he was admist in it. Ghost plunged herself forward against the front of his body, with her spiralling horn aiming for the left side of his body. It hit his shoulder, sliding upwards as he attempted to break himself away from the tussle by throwing himself backwards and making his body smaller. The horn had pierced the black skin, making a slight gash that ebbed and stung. It made the brute wince but it did not stop his brain from thinking of a way to cause damage around the immense amount of armour that Ghost had fitted herself with. The dust was now high in the air as the pair had seemingly unsettled it from its slumber, and that gave Abaddon the sense that he could take the creature by surprise. As he flung himself backwards, with his body arched and his hind legs in the position of a coiled spring, Abaddon arched his neck tightly in order for his head to come as close to his neck as possible. Out of the corner of his eyes he spotted one of the weak spots he aimed to hit - the neck. With just enough power set to throw himself into her, Abaddon jumped from the spot, aiming his five horns up into the back of her cheekbones through the soft flesh of the neck.



1/3 | 1019 words
Abaddon has no companions nor armour.

Abaddon takes minor damage from Ghost which results in a gash on his left shoulder. He tries to jump on Ghost after backing away from Ghost, aiming his horns to the top of the neck underneath the cheek.

[OOC: Good luck to you too! I hope I'm doing this right haha xD <333]

" . "
When two tribes go to war, a point is all that you can score.
[Image: abaddon_pixel___enfanir_by_danjahmouse-d9uses0.png]
Please tag Abaddon in all posts! ♥

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

A snort had rattled out of her nostrils in a rather offended manner when he dared to utter that she was anything but perfect. Who was he to say that she was verging on perfection when she was quite quintessential. Perhaps a few brain cells had been seared away when that scar of his had been branded onto his cheek, or maybe it was because he had been brought up in a primal environment. Either way, Ghost had smirked in the end, not because she found it particularly amusing, but instead she sniggered at his gruff audacity. He was okay, in a beast like way, or more, she was attracted to the way his body rippled rather than the prospect of an intelligent conversation. Perhaps it was arrogant of her, or rather it was arrogant of her, but everyone had their vices. Ghost knew quite well that she wasn’t at all perfect, but the rest of the world wasn’t allowed to know that, the rest of the world didn’t have to know anything. It was better that way, less hassle and less gossip.

In the end she had goaded herself and had been goaded by the devil in front of her into a fight that was for nothing but a tale. Yet, Ghost wanted to know, he had tempted her with a story and then left it unfinished. If she had to beat him up for the sequel then so be it, even if she had to draw blood herself, she would hear an ending to his sorry saga. Abaddon the primal, who thought she was verging on perfect, would learn not to taunt the flawless.

As her horn cut into his shoulder she felt a familiar feeling of satisfaction that came with the first blow. He might have the brawn and some alluring muscle tone, but he surely was not as agile as herself and she would dance him into submission if she could, all to hear what happened next. Yet, as she completed her skirmish, she felt him move away from her and the banshee began to collect her canter before turning to seek out where her scar-faced opponent had gone. However, he was already up in the air when she turned and Ghost took in a sharp breath at the sudden enormity of his height, her vision becoming obscured from all the sand he had kicked up. In this very moment she felt like she was wilting under a mountain and flashbacks of Archibald made her heart jump to her throat making her falter as she began to stumble back from him. The hellion stallion bore down on her and his horns struck true, scraping a nasty looking gash onto her check and into the exposed part of her neck as she scrambled to break free of him. Thinking back to her fight with the Dauntless, Ghost meekly remembered that, whilst her agility was far greater, the power of these goliath fighters made her feel like a stray leaf in a great storm. It was enough to drag a painful grunt from her lips as he drew blood from her beautifully sculptured face. She could feel her annoyance growing with the pain, not at him, but at herself for being so incompetent and easy.

She carried on backing away from him, not wanting to be anywhere near his rather large hooves that had bore down on her so threateningly earlier. Instead, she would go where he couldn’t follow, because he wasn’t blessed with the feather and the flight. First, however, she paused for a passing moment to focus on the ground beneath where she thought his feet were and unleashed her ice magic on that spot. Hopefully he would spend too much time trying to keep his own feet from slipping, leaving her free to reach for the sky and into, she prayed, a fleeting moment of safety.

Ghost winced as she bounced forwards into a brisk canter; the sand that had been kicked up was stinging the wound on her cheek, adding more to her irritation. She battled on, flapping her wings and lifting herself upwards; taking a moment to survey the scene below before picking out where she thought was her best opportunity. She tried to circle him, like a vulture waiting for the right moment to feast of its prey, before diving in once again and, this time, she aimed to smack her rear hooves against the top of his withers.

2/3 | 747 words

Ghost takes a painful injury to her cheek/neck area from Abaddon's horns. She then uses her ice magic to try trip him up before flying into the sky, aiming to hit him with her rear hooves on his withers.

:: [ Magic: LightxWater | Able to turn various surfaces to black (clear) ice at will ]
:: [ Restrictions | Can create ice on surfaces to a maximum radius of 10m; lasts 2 posts in battle ]

Sorry for the wait danjah!! <3

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

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Abaddon defaults to Ghost. Ghost earns 0.5 VP.
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode

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