the Rift


now i'm here to right the wrong || abraham challenge

Zenobia Posts: 61
Absent Abyss atk: 3.5 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 5 years HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Athvadar :: Albino Grey Wolf :: None Semper
#1
Hardened muscles rippled as the white speck on the horizon zipped across the clear, blue sky. Sweat poured down her chest from the heat, but the warrior didn't pause nor seek to find shade. The girl was on a mission: the flames of her father dancing in her eyes as her electrified blood wildly sparked. Though confined to a petite form, the female appeared bigger as her soul raged and broke through the prison that was her small physique.

Zenobia created her own turbulence in the skies this warm, Tallsun day. She struck through the firmament like lightning and her wings beat with the mighty roar of thunder. In that moment, she wasn't simply the daughter of Gaucho the Wildfire. No, she was creating a wild storm herself. Each action demanded attention as she flew high above the ground, eyes scanning the ground like a hawk.

The warrior inside of her was shrieking for righteous justice. A week, maybe two, had passed since she experienced the wannabe god that was set aflame. However, there was unfinished business. The tigress may lie dead, but past deeds went unpunished. She would not tolerate the hideous scene she had witnessed before the fight. A young foal had cried out for justice and Zenobia had sworn she would deliver.

Burns had eaten away at her skin, but now the female was in tip-top condition. It was time, she told herself, to keep her promise. Before her very eyes, she could picture the scene perfectly: a large bully preying on someone not even half his side and a child, at that! All actions had consequences.

When the knowledge came to her that the behemoth resided in the Dragon's Throat her blood had began to simmer. By now her blood was boiling. Abraham. The stallion was bigger than her, his muscle mass impressive. Zenobia had witnessed his ferocity in the battle and she knew to be wary of his two dragon companions. Companions he didn't deserve.

A speckle of white and black entered her vision. She watched, examining the form. Zenobia bit her lips as she suppressed a roar symbolizing war. For now she would confront the beast. Reason would probably not work, as he had brushed it aside in the fight, but her mother had showed her just how powerful diplomacy could be.

The mistress of the ever-changing skies folded her wings against her side. Immediately she began to drop. The feeling of free falling only added to the adrenaline pumping through her stimulated blood stream. There was no beating the rush that came as you plummeted to earth. Unfortunately, it only lasted so long. At the last possible moment, she pulled her wings open.

Zenobia came to a halt, wings beating every so often, right in front of the male. Her face was clear of any fear, instead a steel determination contorted her facial features. The dramatic appearance, as some would call it, was not exactly meant to intimidate the larger male, but prove that she would readily meet any opponent head on head in battle.

"Abraham." her words were demanded recognition and commanded a deep-rooted power. While she was assertive, her tone did not come off as aggressive. Steady eyes sought to catch his own gaze, "I ask again that you return the feather you have forcefully stolen from a young foal. It was her mother's feather, nonetheless. Will you continue on in this heartless, honorless manner?"

She paused, letting her words sink in. At last she landed on the ground, body poised and ready for any tricky attacks. "If you won't stray from your disgraceful path, then I wish to challenge you for possession of the young girl's earth feather." Back and forth her tail lashed as she tried to keep her seething anger at bay.

"Fight me like a real man: you and me with no other interferences." Zenobia pointedly directed her gaze towards his dragons. "Unless you, dear mighty stallion, are afraid to face a mare with naught but your strength." Her voice kept steady despite the message that was clearly to rub Abraham the wrong way. Zenobia knew that, while he was clearly bigger than her, she would have a better shot if he kept his dragons at bay.

"If you wish to accept my challenge of blood instead of peace, then fight me like a real warrior." Though she did not wish to ask, she continued, "If you have any terms speak now." Unlike him, the mare was an honorable warrior. Although she wished to be rid of these pleasantries so that her muscles could snap and release her towards the big-headed bully.

Hopefully, she would not wind up looking like a fool and, more importantly, not break her promise to a little girl without a maternal protector.

"Speech."

word count 800/800
attack 0/3
challenged for abraham's earth feather, which previously belonged to vitani. if won the feather will be returned to vitani.
setting a hot, tallsun day (sun is high in the sky) in the desert of the dragon's throat. clear skies and open ground. set a week or so? (up to time?) after the battle with the earth god.
summary zenobia drops in like YO! we got some unfinished business.
ooc i'm so nervous and excited for this~!
tags @Abraham

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

Abraham Posts: 113
Absent Abyss atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.3 hh :: Three years HP: 71 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwyneverre :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath & Brienne :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Frost Breath Time
#2
ABRAHAM
i know this place
it smells like innocence lost
we left the traces of the sins we bought

The last time someone disturbed Abraham's sleep, he had felled the beast. Today would be no different. The leviathan was roused from his nap by the prodding of his draconian queens, images of the white dun that had yelled at him at the god battle flashing behind his veiled eyes. Black lashes fluttered and the beast shook his head some before lifting it groggily, the warm lassitude of the Dragon's Throat afternoon dimming as he woke. Turning to look upon the fiery figure devouring the sky, Abraham took a step out of his shady napping spot. Inwardly he groaned, but outwardly he turned to iron and ice. The monster stretched his body as Zenobia made her landing, and upon the sands his companion's shadows circled. They were gliding above the woman and their master, reptilian eyes watching to see how Abraham would react. Both dragon's hearts fluttered with the thrill of oncoming battle, and their blood pumped quickly as the ire in the woman's voice made Abraham laugh.

Ice and iron gave way to groundbreaking hilarity, and oh, how he did laugh.

He laughed darkly, loudly, nearly ceaselessly. It was a robust sound, breaking the fire from Zenobia's words upon his ears. His laugh was unmistakable in its bellow. You are a fool, it mocked the Sultan's daughter and her act of idiotic heroism.

He was not sure how long he stood there laughing in her face, a mountain before her, a vixen so delicately hazy, built from mist as if he could blow her away; but, god it felt good. Finally, Abraham quieted and looked the mare over. She was just as he remembered her, tiny and fragile and inferior in his presence, but now her eyes burned like hissing, dying embers. The beast snorted, tail flicking away imp-like flies. Abraham was monstrously large before her, his bulk and muscle-mass clearly his most outward strength against her. His impressive neck arched, and his eyes narrowed and darkened. "A real warrior is not afraid to face what will be their end." Simply, he meant that his dragons would accompany him in battle. They were him. He was them. Both draconian women gave their cries of war above him, their dual tones music to the behemoth's ears.

Abraham's muscles bunched beneath his swarthy pelt, his solid hips read to propel him forward. The iron and ice returned to his face, pulling all interpretation emotion from any onlooker. Mismatched eyes had surveyed the woman quickly enough to know how her body was different than his--her wings were the first thing he noticed. He was no fool to how agile and quick one could be in the air, for he had two companions gifted with the ability of flight, and he had resided in the Dragon's Throat long enough to see many a spar. One of the main objectives would be to keep her grounded, and keep her close. The curvature of her thin legs and ample hips told Abraham that she would be quicker than he, but her speed would matter not if he could keep her in range. His strength would devour her. She already looked fatigue, sweating the way she was.

Did she not know he was a harbinger of death, a sentinel of destruction? Abraham the fucking leviathan he had named himself when he brought his father's imposter (later learned to be his uncle) down in flames. Today, Abraham the fucking leviathan he would be.

"Let's dance."


[PC: 0/4 | WC: 578 | *Challenges are four posts. Have Zenobia go ahead and attack him in your next post! I'm very excited for this!]
Image Credit



@Zenobia

Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down


pixel by tamme

Zenobia Posts: 61
Absent Abyss atk: 3.5 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 5 years HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Athvadar :: Albino Grey Wolf :: None Semper
#3
Chains had to be used as restrains from keeping the mare to stooping to the boy's level. His laugh grated her ears. Hell, his very existence was rubbing her the wrong way. He hadn't changed since their brief encounter at the Riptides. She longed to lash out at that dumb look on his face, but sheld herself back. While her father's DNA burned within her, her mother's presence in the past reminded her that it just wasn't fucking worth it. Well, naturally, Sohalia the Transcendent had said it a little differently, but the message was still received.

Hair was puffed away from her eyes as the girl snorted. "Don't speak of things you can't comprehend, boy." Perhaps she should be unnerved by the underlying threat in his words. That, however, was overrated; to be that little mare who frightened when a mere pin dropped. Still, she didn't brush the threat that he was entirely away. Doing something of the sorts would be foolish. She remembered what the black stallion had declared at the unveiling of the new land, that this beast had murdered before in cold blood.

She would not fall victim to the brute who carried himself like an oh-scary-monster. How intimidating. There would be no end for the monochromatic girl. At least, certainly not today. If anything this encounter would reveal the foul creature's true colors and intentions to the rest of her herd. The Dragon Throat would always welcome refugees, but not one of his breed. If this continued she would demand the absurd reasoning behind his presence around her family's lands.

"Let's dance." As soon the words left his obtuse mouth, Zenobia was all too willing to take the lead in this so called dance. "I'll try to step on your feet, dear sir." If he thought she would easily be dominated than he was in for a shocking surprise. At the same time, however, the girl knew that to fell this beast would be no easy feat. The brute was like a barbarian in his build, large muscles rippling in the sunlight. His hits would fucking hurt and it didn't take a genius to realize this. Then there was the matter of his dragons.

Rather than moving away from his front view, Zenobia kept her hooves rooted. Large wings began to rapidly beat, albeit not for take off. No pegasus would purposely drag their magnificent wings along the ground when trying to flee to the air. Instead, her wings were acting like her own small and spontaneous dust storm. There was no wind this beautiful day, one that truly didn't match the scene that was unfolding, so the risks of it being blown back into her face were low. Or so she thought. Her wings scooped up debris, attempting to stir it up and swing some in his eyes with each sweep of her wings.

Whether blinded or not, the girl prayed him and his companions were at least distracted. Stay away from that horn. she urged herself as she attempted to use her lithe, agile frame to make it to his side before he could turn around. A native of the desert, each step was sure footed: the sands loose grasp had no real effect on her traction. She had to wonder if this refugee had enough time to grow accustomed to the ways of the desert. "I guess we'll see."

As she began to make her loop, she tried to race along his right side. Zenobia only broke her steady, quick gait when she quickly paused near his right front leg. Hoping to hinder his movement so that her petite body would continue to reign supreme in terms of agility and speed, she tried to lash out at his right front leg with her back leg in an outward kick as she ran by. Immediately after she picked her pace up once again, urging herself to run passed the giant's body. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she tried not to get broken in half from a well-placed buck (or whatever the meaty brute may try to counter with).

Zenobia kept check of her pace because she knew pushing herself too early into the fight could cause for later setbacks. There was also the concern of her unruly beating heart.

"Speech."

word count 717/800
attack 1/4
summary zenobia uses her wings to try to kick up debris to send flying in abraham and company's direction, hoping to blind or distract him. she veers to his right side, running along his side while trying to kick outwards at his front leg with her back leg.
ooc oops, sorry! hope everything looks okay! i looove abe <3 i can imagine his laugh xD
tags @Abraham

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

Abraham Posts: 113
Absent Abyss atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.3 hh :: Three years HP: 71 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwyneverre :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath & Brienne :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Frost Breath Time
#4
ABRAHAM
i know this place
it smells like innocence lost
we left the traces of the sins we bought

The sun was high in the sky and it raged above the desert. Tallsun in this place was something Abraham was enjoying less and less (even though naps in shaded areas were quite nice), but this is the place Reginald had chosen. His brother had become a ranked warrior among them, and though Abraham did not conform to their ranks and duties, he had stayed at Reginald's side, protecting and teaching their younger sister. Now, however, Macaria was gone with their father, and Abraham contemplated leaving the desert. At this point, it was not a serious decision he needed to make, but his loyalty to Reginald lay deep enough for him to discuss it with his brother first nonetheless. Reginald enjoyed the beauty and heat of the desert, and Abraham nearly loathed it. It was hot and sticky and bright.

The blackened son of hellion enjoyed their first chosen home much better, and yearned to be there now, fighting this delicate assailant. The Rotunda stayed cool, even in the grasp of summer, with endless shadows and the blissful greens of ever-reaching trees. Although he had not visited the place he once called his kingdom in quite some time, Abraham remembered how the stones felt under his hooves as his body crashed against another's in the dance of war. Despite these thoughts running through his mind, the behemoth knew this was no time to dwell on his innermost desires. He was here in the desert, facing a blazing vixen, and his hooves dug deep into sand and not loamy grass.

It was the sand he cursed inwardly as her wings beat rapidly to stir it up beneath them. Her tactic was smart, but the leviathan had three pairs of eyes to rely on. Even as he narrowed his own eyes even more and shook his head to clear the burning sensation from their mismatched hues, Abraham could still see the girl charging headlong at him as clearly. His dragons sent twin images of the dun woman to his mind's eye as they rocketed down  from their perch in the sky toward the ebony-haired warrioress. Abraham kept his hooves planted in the red sands, knowing that even if she tried to slam into his body she would be met with only steel. He was a mountain, immovable and unbreakable. Blinking, his blurry vision mixed with the clear images from his dragons, and he pinpointed Zenobia on his right side. Quickly, the dark man thrust his head toward her right side, tucking his chin. He aimed to assault her wing-joint with his lethal horns, or slice down her side as he had once done to Volterra. The pegasus moved quickly--quicker than Abraham's massive body could manage--and her hooves shot out just as quickly. Abraham's head surged upwards, wary of a buck toward his jaws, but Zenobia's kick was aimed lower than that. Quickly, her leg slipped past his right front and the side of her solid hoof smacked against Abraham's thick, feathered left ergot. The heavy hair saved the kick from scraping hair and skin away from bone, but the pain shot through his leg nonetheless. Surely a cruise would form beneath white hair, but the injury was a blink in comparison to what Abraham's body had previously felt from other opponents. The hindrance from this injury would be small. Sucking in a breath, Abraham moved his body as quickly as he could. The massive stallion aimed to swing his hips toward Zenobia's right side, shifting to shoulder most of his weight on his own right side, and with urgency and power he bucked out toward her right thigh. His jaw tightened, refusing to show the pain he felt in his leg on his face. He was composed of iron and ice, so it would be known.

Keep her close. Keep her grounded. Abraham sent the commands quick and short over his shared bonds, and his dragons reacted like lightning. Gwyneverre darted toward the woman's head with her claws outstretched, trying to slice the woman's eyes. Brienne flew toward Zenobia's wings, and a sudden rush of frost burst from the gold's jaws toward the left flight-appendage. Inside draconian chests, rage burned. It ebbed towards Abraham's heart, pumping the heat of anger through his arteries. He had laughed in this foolish woman's face, but within the lock of battle, Abraham's body became a hurricane of raging anger. The waves of abhorrence burned brightly despite Abraham's stoney, void face. Thick muscles and strong bones filled with malicious intent as Abraham sought to demolish her.

He was going to keep this feather for Macaria, and he was going to show this welp of a woman what it meant to cross paths with a son of hellion.  


[PC: 1/4 | WC: 790]
Image Credit



@Zenobia

Zenobia Posts: 61
Absent Abyss atk: 3.5 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 5 years HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Athvadar :: Albino Grey Wolf :: None Semper
#5
Unicorns were lucky in the sense that they came with a sword to use as they wished. Zenobia cursed this as she felt the horns run twin jagged lines along her right side. The attack stung with an almost burning sensation as two long and twisted lines of blood stained her white hair. Quietly she thanked her heritage for her slightly quicker speed, as otherwise she wouldn't have been able to escape without deep wounds. Though her barrel stung as if a wasp had just bit her, the female continued forward and was rewarded when she felt her attack hit.

Her body was beginning to twist itself to the left when the stallion's massive hip collided with her more petite side. In that brief moment of contact, she could feel his strength and his rippling muscles. His brute power caused her to stumble. Her hooves defiantly kept their footing, the warrior refusing to fall down that easily. Zenobia had barely even found her footing when she felt his powerful hind-legs ram into her rump. She gritted her teeth as her right side began to throb. Bruises were already beginning to form from the stallion's buck. Her side was also aching from his hip-check, which would surely feel even worse the tomorrow morning.

As weird as it may sound, Zenobia was thankful for the behemoth's large hips. She realized that without the stumble somewhere more valuable may have been hit. Though the buck hurt like hell, she was thankful it did not land in a more vulnerable spot such as her thigh. Such an attack would have hindered her for the rest of the fight and for many days after.

Her front legs were still twisting her body partially to the left. Thank the heavens, too. It was only due to this that she could see the dragons zooming towards her. Zenobia's teeth remained gritted as her body tensed, readying itself for even more pain.

The younger dragon was flying towards her left side while the golden was heading straight for her face. She found herself with little time to react. She forced her wing to fall limply to the ground. A rush of cold caused her back to shiver as it was struck with the frosty breath rather than her wing. Luckily, the protective hide of the bear god she wore negated most of the bitter cold. All attention shifted to her face, however, as claws slashed at her muzzle. Cuts opened as soon as sharp claw shredded her skin.

She jerked her head once again. This time, she was attempting to bash her head against her attacker in hopes that it would be forced away. All the while her teeth tried to dig themselves into the thin webbing of the golden dragon's right wing.

At last she completed her turn and began to run along the brute's right side (now to her left) once again. She distanced herself this time as her wings began to steadily beat. In one instance, a wing brushed against the clasps of her armor, causing her figure to disappear from view. Her small body began to take flight. By the time she ran passed him, she was already in the air. Hopefully ahead of him now, she kicked her back legs out at the stallion's shoulder, although she would be glad if she reached high enough to hit his head. She winced as she did so, the deep-rooted bruises causing her body to scream out in pain.

Zenobia struggled to find a thermal as she stroked her wings through the air, attempting to climb higher and higher. Like her father had done in the spar she had participated in a day after she returned, the still invisible gal tried to make it so that her body was aligned with the sun. Though she could still not be seen, her shadow was. Each time she pumped her wings, however, it was beginning to become smaller and smaller. If his dragons chased after her, she hoped that both her lack of presence and the blinding light of the sun would make her a tricky target to hit.

Sweat poured down her body as she stayed in the powerful rays of the sun, her armor definitely not helping with the heat. Geez, Sun Lord, do you mind turning down the heat a little for one of your favorite's daughter? No? Yeah, I figured. Then please help me be able to keep up this pace.This beast must be punished and not allowed to carry on with his ways. I won't let him be a threat to my family. Zenobia was mostly distracting herself from the dreadful pain. She would win this through her own prowess: not because of her affiliation with the Sun or her father's title.


"Speech."

word count 800/800
attack 2/4
ooc had to cut off ~200 words so not too proud of this. hopefully its still okay <3
tags @Abraham

Image Credits


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

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Blu
#6
Archibald defaults to Zenobia. Zenobia earns 0.5 VP and the earth feather
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode


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