| Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE |
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Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist
Hawk |
All the world was washed away in fire, flame, and pain. The roaring magma creature trumpeted forth but given its ferocity, and the golden’s foreign control of it, there was little to curb its lust for destruction including the image of its own maker. The Amaranthine leapt from her destruction, and furious the elephant spins, reaching out with its trunk. Memories returned of the explosive contact that day on the Flats and the gold only got in a quick “Fuck” before his genius plan literally backfires.
One last trumpet sounded in fury as the trunk touched the fine white legs and the whole figure burst. Blue eyes shut and he turned way, but it was too late. Magma splattered on his front left, showering his shoulder in a few projectiles of molten rock. A hiss sings through the air as his whole body tried to shake free for the high viscosity of the magma. Concentration stolen, the illusion of the elephant king could not hold together and glitched off.
The golden’s head swam for a second, pulsating with every heartbeat the scent of his own burnt flesh, agony of lightening and flame, and complete exhaustion. His front left leg hung limp from the ruined shoulder, and blood trailed down. Whereas the bells were sounding in Ophelia’s head, the golden’s was growing quieter. If he pressed on it would be dead silent, so the end had to be near. The end A pale whisper of the stag’s voice drew the word to the gold’s attention. Broken as he was on side of the fray, he still watched. A wash of fresh air broke over the golden’s agony at the reminder. Yes, the battle was ending, and there would soon be a time when the gold could step back, see Ophelia’s mutilated body and feel the surging vengeance for his own. His head rose, pulling forth all reserves, to see the charge of the Amaranthine.
The gold dove from the attack. Had it been just his own effort he wouldn’t have escaped unscathed from her blade, but the snow had turned to mud, and in his exhaustion he slid to the left. The blade raked on the gold coat of his right shoulder, but only gained a few gold hairs for its effort. It cost him for the burnt flesh opened like the decomposing maw of a corpse and let flow free his blood. He had little time to grieve the blood loss as, immobile in his strain to remain standing from the slip, two hooves lash out and sack his right side, knocking him sideways. Breath hitched and his face contorted in pain. The mud slapped wound hid the internal damage of bruised muscle and bone. The woman was not done though. In the depth of his mind her voice whispered soft but clear.
Harks pinned back but her threats find nothing to grip to in him. Instead, drug deep by the fray, his voice bellowed a growing dark laughter. Wasn’t she the one hiding from the world in her little hole of love? Had not her own attempts to bear forth her blade been missed? He collected himself from his slide, shaking his crowned head in his humor. It may indeed have been maddening to sit in that cave and do nothing, and he may have claimed his current state sane through this, its opposite, but in reality it seemed the gold was just going from one state of madness to another. He had to, for the sanity in the middle held realizations about rosen ghosts that he dared not even glimpse at.
“Pathetic. Darling look at you.” His voice, though cracked with exhaustion and pain, still rung with the venous lightness of his madness. “Haven’t you learned? Fight for the valor of love, but honey, you’ll find the heart is a weak and pathetic organ.” He stepped forward, a black stone set in his circlet awoke. Haldir, sensing the plan, protested, thinking it to be hypocritical and unfair, but his was too weak to distract the gold. A grin, tight with the strains of battle, rose on the Laurelin’s face. “Here, let me show you.” Ashamin’s stolen magic lashed out, reaching out with electric tips to try and speed up the beating organ in her chest. As the black stone shattered he beckoned forth again his own magic, sending forth darkness again to cloud her sight. Black dots threaten his vision with the effort but with a wicked grin he hissed with bitterness, “After all, love is blind.” Though he was the blindest of all.
All this he does, but makes not a step more towards her. In the beginning, and still now the gold’s greatest desire was never to see her blood, but to see her fall.
OOC:: Permission for Ophelia to see any of the following memories: Not this thread, but the memory written within it, You Have Something of Mine , Blood Diamonds, Stakes are High, Bets are In, I Found Love Where it Wasn't Supposed to Be
WC:: 799
ATK:: 3/3
INJURIES:: Slow from Tingal, Small shallow scratch 4" long on shoulder, bite mark, bruised and cut along edges on the underside of his neck, burns across various parts where metal armor touched, Scattered burns on left shoulder, bruised right side
Haldir-cracked ribs on right side
Identities:: Erebos
Items:: Circlet (polearm, Moon amulet(containing Ashamin's heart magic))
SUMMARY:: Is burned by the ending of the magma elephant and transforms back into himself. Slides to the left away from Ophelia's horn but is clipped by her hooves. Uses Ashamin's heart magic in his MOON AMULET to attempt to speed up her heart, and attempts his blinding magic again.
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@Ophelia
![[Image: 5381546acbe33]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5381546acbe33)
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[JUDGED] Unfinished Business
