the Rift


mommy needs some alone time [open spar]

Megaera the Sunspear Posts: 306
Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None Laine
#1
Take me to the end so I can see the start

The children were found, all but Asavvi. The two youngest and two oldest were safe and that alone had been Megaera’s top priority. The small twins had been collected, corralled and consoled as well as she was able and now, under they eye of their father she knew they would remain that way. Nizho was almost grown and could make his own decisions and Mordecai?  Well…she was a force unto herself. Whatever needs or wants Meg had had for herself had been put on hold until she had been sure her streak of absent mothering had been put to a definitive end. Now she needed some time, and she took it, away from her family to do what she needed to do.

She erupted

Like a long-dormant volcano spewing lava into the air, the mare let loose all she had been holding back and it made for a savage scene. Rain came down in sheets, turning dust and dried grass into matted mud, and her hooves ravaged the wet ground as she moved across it. Kicking, twisting, bucking—fierce battle lacking only and opponent—but she took what release she could from the movement and her guttural shouts and growls. The meadow’s gentle slopes were torn into furrows where water pooled and mud splashed when her hooves came crashing down again and again. It was a release, a purge of every torturous emotion she had kept trapped inside. They all came at once in the viscous, twisted mess. 

Grief: the loss of Gaucho, her mentor, her captain, her cornerstone on which she had built her life had been taken, so quickly, so unexpectedly. Fear: a daughter missing without a trace, who might never be found. Regret: she had neglected her other children in her search for Asavvi. Uncertainty: where would she take her family now, how could she care for them away from the familiarity of the Throat? Bitterness: her position, stripped from her and given to another like it had only been a whim of Gaucho to name her to it and not something she had worked so hard to succeed in.

”SOMEBODY FIGHT ME GOD DAMN IT.” She hurled the shout into the dark meadow, needing some better outlet than this messy tantrum. She was dressed for it, had taken all her things from there hiding place in the heart of Dragon's Throat. The spiked leather across her back was already saturated from the rain and splattered with the mud she had already kicked up. For the first time since receiving it, she had also donned the skull of the Rift's wold god. It fit securely over the steel of her faceplate, it's teeth reaching down past her own jaw like she had grown her own set of fangs. It also cloaked her in shadow, not absolutely, but enough to make her movements strange and eerie; dark wisps bled off of her like smoke, swaying as she moved. In the overcast sky above, Gwaihir circled, a scavenger of his mistress's dark mood, ready to pick of the pieces when she was done.

”Megaera.”
Gwaihir

Setting :: Thistle Meadow; raining; muddy
Other :: mask and armor minus the feathers on the side of the sull, she never actually got those, but you get the idea

Words :: 512 - wordcounter.net
Attack :: 0/3
Summary :: Meg throws a fit in the mud.
take me where the fire still owns its spark
there's only one way to mend a broken heart
Megaera

Image Credit
FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::

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
#2
only the dead have seen the end of war
”SOMEBODY FIGHT ME GOD DAMN IT.”

The words rang clearly, even above the storm that slicked the Thistle Meadow’s dry grass, leaving a muddy mess. The King’s heavy head rose, eyes made dark by wide pupils that tried to use the arcing lightning to see in the storm’s dimness. In the ethereal light, he saw an outline of someone: a pegasus. Mbwene, who had been mentally grumbling about the rain (though the mud, she knew, would make for good wallowing after the storm), fell silent as her bright blue eyes moved between her stilled bonded and the thrashing equid of flying mud clods.

His eyes slowly sharpened. The woman was familiar—Megaera the Sunspear. Though it took him moments to recognize her in her armor. He had met her in the Threshold… back in simpler times when he had frequented Helovia’s border to greet new souls who sought new beginnings. But now…now times had changed. He rarely visited the Threshold, rarely offered the promise of a new home, a new life. As King, he found himself welcoming those who had chosen the Edge as their new beginning, but seldom was he the one to proffer such a choice.

He shook his massive head slightly, thick cream limbs stained dark with mud beginning to move at a careful trot in the slop. He recognized the need in the Sunspear’s voice. He had felt this same urgency: to lose oneself in battle; to lose oneself in the ritual of blows and parries that were second nature. Numbing the mind with the pain of missed blocks and sore, overused muscles. He had felt it before, in Dorobo. He had felt it here in Helovia, when he sparred Alune.

So the Elephant King’s steps towards the armor-laden pegasus mare were purposeful, despite the caution he took with the slick earth. He would oblige this woman and he, himself, could use a break from his uncertain and lonely thoughts. A fight would be welcome, especially with a pegasus. Their wings required more attention than fighting others, as the King was not nearly as comfortable battling them than other species.

His dark navy gaze was solemn and calm as he approached. He studied his armor in the brief stabs of lightning, though found it difficult to entirely find its nooks and attachments in the onslaught of rain. He was confident only that he saw the feathers of her wings and sharp angles of her legs. The rest seemed to be obscured by armor, but he was not certain. Mbwene hung back behind her bonded, sharp gaze eyeing the smaller, covered pegasus. “Will watch,” her primitive speech promised the Elephant, implying she’d look for a chink in the armor while he began to fight.

With a deep trumpet to declare both his approach and his attack, the Elephant King reared. His massive haunches strained as his great bulk balanced precariously on his hind limbs in the ice-like mud. The Sunspear, with her wings, would assuredly have the advantage in this fight. So, with a lunge, his muck coated, huge, ivory hooves struck out at the very thing that would give her the favor in this fight: her wings. The punishing blow was aimed her right wing, chin tucked tight to his chest in an attempt to protect the vulnerable skin of his neck from her lower vantage.

Mbwene watched avidly, thrumming with her Elephant’s sudden flare of battle lust.


WC: 575
A: 1/3 | D: 0/1
Damage: --
Summary/notes: I have no idea where in Tembo's timeline this is set (bc it's a mess) BUT basically he hears Meg and obliges her by rearing/striking at her unarmored right wing. Mbwene hangs back and looks for weakness in Meg's armor.
Tembovu
the elephant king
image | table style by Kiki

Please tag Tembovu.

Megaera the Sunspear Posts: 306
Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None Laine
#3
Take me to the end so I can see the start

The eagle didn’t like this one bit. Through their bond he could not help but feel the emotions that drove her to rage and to scream—he could empathize in the most literal way— but he saw nothing in this tantrum that could serve any purpose. Gwaihir could match Megaera in fierceness any day but his golden head was level where her dark one only vaguely attempted to be. Their twined souls could be severed and set upon scales, he as temperance and she as wild abandon and the two should balance in some harmony but now there was only discord. Was it because Meg had tried to be something she was not? Something in her clung to that idea, that it had been a foolish mistake to ever raise her to Sultana in the first place… Maybe then it would be Gaucho’s fault and not her own that she had failed in it so miserably. Straight-laced, wise, cautious, noble: all the things she had tried to be for the sake of being Sultana of Dragon’s Throat were all gone to shit and now that she no longer felt herself bound by such restraints the wildness, the recklessness, rose up in her more powerful than ever. It was a rebellion against dashed expectations and disappointed hopes but the eagle saw only folly.

Meg, stop this. It’s not your fault. He pushed the words into her mind but she tried to drown him out. She didn’t want to be comforted or quieted or consoled. She wanted violence, wanted to mete out punishment on all who had made her feel like this: on the ones to had taken Asavvi from her, on Gaucho for leaving her, on the Sun God for stripping her, on the herd who hadn’t seen how hard she’d tried, on Ampere and Cera for making her feel like a gutless coward. Meg— "GET BENT, GWAIHIR" She snarled at the bird, thrashing her head as though trying to shake him out of it. His words would only make her feel worse, for as long as her list of offenders stretched it was far too easy to substitute her name for each and every one of them, and she could punish herself. Megaera! His mind shouted it into hers, trying to get her attention for he had see what she had not. Black eyes blazing red with a fiery threat Megaera raised her face too seek out the eagle as it circled but she saw nothing of the sky. He had forced the imagine into her mind like a forceful slap—the image of herself, and an enormous stallion barreling toward her. It was then she heard the Elephant King’s bellow. Megaera whirled in time to see the massive stallion rear.

Even before she recognized her opponent as the King she had met briefly in the threshold, Meg felt a wicked stab of satisfaction. She had called for a fight and now she had one and with a stallion as big as all the feelings she wanted to drown out, someone she couldn’t crush so quickly, someone she didn’t have to hold back on. Fucking perfect. Her movement was a dangerous one, pivoting too quickly to her right where Tembovu launched the assault she had so insistently invited. The ground beneath her was torn and slick with mud that she and the rain had made and as she tried to spin her footing slipped for a moment out of her control. Her wings stretched wide to both sides to steady herself, the right one passing in an arc in front of her opponent. The involuntary reflex that kept her from falling did however have the unfortunate result of stretching out her unguarded wing and putting it at the mercy of Tembovu’s flailing hooves.

They struck near the base of her wing and tore an angry scream from her. The only mercy was the momentum from her turn had already been pulling the wing way from the blow, but even then, the massive hooves bludgeoned the corded muscles there her body listed to her right as the appendage was wrenched down. Blood pooled under the surface filling a thousand little tears in the muscles that screamed in protest of the effort of holding the injured wing extended. She tried to pull the wing in close again, but that hurst just as fiercely. In pain, in excitement, Meg’s eyes flashed and burned, seeking Tembovu, focusing. As though shoving with her own will to try and force him back, red crackling light shot like jets from her eyes, aiming to gouge and burn his face or chest. With a battlecry of her own, she threw her body forward. The spikes that lined her breastplate were wicked, reaching to follow where her lightning had led.


”Megaera.”
Gwaihir

@Tembovu
Words :: 799 - wordcounter.net
Attack :: 1/3
Summary :: BIRD YELLING! Meg turns towards Tembovu and starts to slip in the mud, his hooves strike her right wing near the base. She faces him, slashing with her lightning magic toward his face and chest then lunges to bash/stab him with the spiked on her armor.
Magic Used ::
:: [ Magic: FirexSpark | Can shoot fiery red lightening from her eyes. ] 
:: [ Restrictions | Requires concentration and extends 5m from eyes. ]

take me where the fire still owns its spark
there's only one way to mend a broken heart
Megaera

Image Credit
FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Blu
#4
Time limit exceeded.

Tembovu defaults to Megaera. Megaera earns 0.5 VP
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode


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