the Rift


[JUDGED] Now we've got bad blood | CHALLENGE VOLTERRA

Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#1

Given how often some variety of fate had brought Isopia and Volterra together during their lives, it shouldn't be surprising that they found their way to one another again. Only if Isopia had it her way, she would have picked literally any other day and time for this unhappy reunion.

It had all started right here in fact - which was the reason Isopia was on this mountain top to begin with. She had been destroying the ground with her body and her magic, to try and eradicate from the world the place where she and Volterra had been together. It was as if she thought that by erasing this particular section from the landscape, she could erase the actions done here as well. 

But, you might be asking yourself, didn't Isopia calm down after all that? Sure she murdered her unborn child, made it a grave, and poured some Riftian God blood on it, but then didn't she sort of ... move on? Well friends, that was true, until two things happened in very close succession. The first, was that Isopia learned that Volterra had not only sired yet another child, but that the mother of said child was her cousin.

Her cousin!

The second, was that upon returning home from learning that news, Isopia found two fillies in her clearing, digging up the bones of her dead son. And not just excavating them, but stealing them. You've got to admit, that sort of thing would probably break any mind. But Isopia? Well, despite her pompous aren't I so clever attitude, she was completely stunted when it came to emotional development. So perhaps it isn't surprising that when the demi-goddess who proclaimed to never feel anything finally did, it shouldn't shock you to learn that she didn't quite know how to handle it. Especially when the second thing she felt was this monstrous symphony of anger, betrayal, and despair. 

Did it matter why Volterra crested the small knoll to reach the place she and Roskuld had just been speaking? Of course not: they had after all, just been speaking about him and his transgressions. And so of course Volterra appeared at just that moment. We don't call fate a fickle bitch for nothing.

Isopia's golden stare skirted around her stouter cousin as soon as his white-blazed face came into view. Perhaps it was the fury that flared brightly in her belly that made her previous bodily exhaustion depart, or her innate healing abilities, but as her long body lunged around Ros, it showed no signs of fatigue or exhaustion. 

"HOW DARE YOU COME HERE!" Isopia bellowed, as if Volterra had lost the right to visit this place after his millionth child had been born, emphasizing what a mockery their time together really had been. As she ran, she grabbed at the dying grasses beneath his hooves with her magic. She meant to both upset his balance by shifting the earth away from him, and then to pummel him from the sides and the front with the earth she had snatched. It was a petulant attack, but Isopia couldn't help herself. There was something so satisfying about digging into the ground with her magical claws and hurling it at him.

Isopia's cheeks were still darkened from the tears she had cried, but no longer did her eyes shimmer with the grief that had brought her here in the first place. Now they blazed with all of the hate, and lonliness-fueled anger she had been bottling up for the past few weeks. 

"I WAS PREGNANT." She continued, the strength of her scream wavering somewhat as emotion tugged at the final word. The demigoddess skidded to a stop, nostrils flaring and wings fanned out from her sides. Her lip trembled (or was it a snarl?) as her golden stare searched for his red one. "SHE WAS MY COUSIN!" A stream of water appeared next to her shoulder and then hurled itself towards Volterra's face, almost like a pantomime of a glass of water being thrown at a scorned lover in a movie. Only this was assuredly unscripted. All of this was.

Would Volterra be clever enough to understand her disjointed sentences? Likely not, if their last encounter was any indication of his ability to understand anything that wasn't laid perfectly out for him. But there was no helping that now, for dramatic moments such as these didn't leave room for a lengthy explanation on Isopia's part as to why she was doing what she was doing. 

But did that even matter? Did Isopia truly want his understanding, or did she want his balls torn unceremoniously from his body as some sort of metaphorical (and literal) punishment for his transgressions?

Isopia didn't know. And right now, it didn't matter. 



Isopia is challenging @Volterra because of BUTTHURT, aka for pride?
Attack: 1/4
WC: 794
Setting: Heavenly Fields, Orangemoon. Daylight. It's cool out but the ground is not frozen or muddy.

Set directly after this thread.

Permission from Snow to PP Volterra coming into view :)

To maximize your challenge-reading experience, please play "Bad Blood" by Taylor Swift in the background. :D

isopia
Did you think we'd be fine? Still got scars on my back from your knife.
So don't think it's in the past, these kinda wounds they last and they last.

Image Credits

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#2


It is nostalgia that brings him to the Fields. In a time of such massive upheaval for him - joining a herd, being responsible - he feels the need to go back to his roots. He was born here, an irrelevant blob of black flesh with tangled limbs and nothing but his father's secondhand amulet to his name. Of course, there's a more recent memory, too; it's her. With a warm shudder, the beast remembers their bodies intertwined like vines around a tree, their breaths coming as one, a statue forged of skin and desire. He remembers the happiest day of his life.

So when she comes for him, he first thinks - with a colossal blossom of delight, a rosebud opening in his heart - that she's here to reminisce, too. For one sparkling moment, he thinks fate has brought him here today so they can reconcile, pick up where they left off. His head lifts, hope gleaming in his eyes, a whicker of greeting rising in his chest and her name like a blessing on his lips - "Kis hollo?" There's another mare, but she's irrelevant, mere background noise for the joyous reunion that he is sure is coming.

He is wrong.

The earth beneath him suddenly moves, and not in the way it had last time they were here. The goliath's ears lurch backwards and he emits a bewildered snort as the ground begins to ripple ominously. Instinct drives him to reach for his magic and he hauls up a great wall of earth around his body in a semi-circle that encases his front and his left side; there's a hearty crash as Isopia's summoned earth smashes into the wall he's erected, but there's not enough time to let his creation grow around to cover his right side, too.

With a sickening crunch, the ground punches like a fist into the treasure trove of his right ribcage. There's a snap that he feels as well as hears, and he staggers sideways into his wall; it crumbles to dust as his concentration breaks and his side explodes into a pit of agony like nothing he's ever felt before. He snatches at breath but it feels like he's inhaling broken glass; he gasps, shudders, and a kicked-puppy expression of abject hurt flashes across his face. "Kis...hollo?" he croaks, red dots bubbling in front of his vision. He hardly notices the water splashing against his cheek, forcing tears into eyes that're too stunned to create them.

Isopia attacked him. She attacked him. And she's furious; he's never seen her so angry. She always emenated earthen calm, but now she is pure fire. Had anybody else caused Volterra such damage, he would now be attempting to detatch their skull, but this is Isopia. They don't fight. They can't. There must be some mistake...

Pregnant. The word momentarily numbs the screaming agony in his side. "Pregnant?" There's a ringing in his ears as he puts two and two together and makes five. She was pregnant. She had his child. Her second words are inadvertently ignored - in order of importance, they are decidedly behind the revelation of another child. "The child....we have a child..." He should have known. He has created another bastard - no wonder she is raging. No doubt the foal hates him, its absent father, but there's time to fix that. Despite his pain, there's an ache of joy in his heart; the offspring of himself and Isopia must be perfection incarnate. He wonders if it is a son or daughter...

Suddenly, the sky is filled with gold. Vadir's howl is a primal, air-rending cacophony that threatens to tremble the earth with more intensity than either Volterra or Isopia had managed; she is furious, she is wrath in golden scales. "Vadir, no!" He can't shout, it hurts too much; it is a breathy rumble, the personification of pain.

And his dragon queen ignores it.

She cares not who this woman is. She is an enemy, an enemy who has caused her bonded unrivalled pain, an enemy that must be destroyed. Having not grown up with her, having never seen the development of their relationship from childhood friends to more, Vadir has never had the bond with Isopia that Vérzés has; she is just another woman, just another foe.

Fire erupts from her massive jaws, and she aims the torrent for the Mountain's face. Through the inferno she has created, she lunges downwards and attempts to burrow the claws of both forepaws deep into Isopia's eyes, wanting to rip, to maim. Volterra's mind rings with her unbridled joy, because she's never helped him in battle before, never fought at his side like a gleaming golden waraxe.

In her wake, Vérzés releases a single long note of lament.

_______

@Isopia !

Vol is wearing his leg guards, but not his face mask or armour.

I'M GOING TO PUT A LINE OF BAD BLOOD HERE AFTER EACH POST AS THE PERFECT KIND OF SUMMARY AND TO HELP OUR READERS ENGAGE.

For this post, it's: 'Did you have to hit me, where I'm weak? Baby, I couldn't breathe.' Because broken rib.

1/4 - 797 words

V O L T E R R A
ARE WE WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO SAVE US FROM BURNING TO DUST?
SHOULD YOU BUILD ALL YOU HAVE OUT OF NOTHING BUT ANGER AND LUST?


[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#3

The fact that he appeared pleased to see her lit a fire so hot inside the base of her neck, she thought she could spit fire. Was her utter contempt for him the last time she had seen him not clear enough? Or, a hellish thought broke through her fury, shattering any shred of resolve she might have maintained, does he think he'll have a repeat of what had happened between them, when last they were here together?

Isopia couldn't hear Volterra's grunt of pain as the earth she had moved collided with his rib cage due to the blood pounding ceaselessly in her ears. She could see the look on his face as he grimaced however, and she might have smiled mercilessly at this, if her mind was not so fully enveloped by the smile she had been looking at only moments before.

That fucking boyish smile was now burned in her memory; a reminder of how stupid men could be, Volterra most of all.

"Had." She meant to yell, but the weight of the word - all the meaning and history it represented for Isopia - caught it in her throat. It left her lips as a monotone curse that feel heavily towards her hooves.

The demigoddess had not expected his dragons to involve themselves in this fight. It was, after all, between just she and Volterra. They were the ones who were to blame for all of this, the ones (besides fate of course), whose actions were responsible. So when the golden queen flew towards her, screaming a cry of attack, it was nearly too late for the big mare to defend herself. Clumsily Isopia groped for the earth to protect her (read here: a metaphor for the aid she needed from her Father but never received when she told him of her lost child). What should have been an arc of earth appeared only as a few clumps of sod; what could have been a shield was instead a pathetic defense against the fiery blast. Luckily for her, Hubris' attention had been upon the gold dragon the entire time. He at least had the sense to assume that while the red dragon may not attack, that the same could not be said for the gold. His intuitions proved true, and the bronzey male was able to spout a stream of ice in front of Isopia's undefended face. It melted almost instantly as Vadir's fire touched it, but then again, that was the point, now wasn't it.

It was all Hubris could do, but of course, it wasn't enough.

The clumps of earth rained down harmlessly against Isopia's face and in front of it, just as Vadir's claws began to rake against her skin. She could feel how the dragon's claws sliced neatly through the death mask of maroon and ivory that she wore, caressing the bone and muscle beneath it. Isopia's teeth gnashed with self-righteous anger and pain, but she kept her horned skull still. Despite the red streaks of blinding pain that she felt on her face, she knew shaking the dragon free would likely 1. not work and/or 2. cause more damage as she was torn free.

Not needing encouragement from his bonded, Hubris had already circled around again, aiming a blast of electricity and ice towards Vadir's backside. The gold was larger than the bronze, but he was sure that his attack would be potent enough to make up for the slight size disparity. The bronze trilled a sorrowful apology as the last of the magic left his open jaws, for, like Isopia, he thought this matter was best left to their bondeds. If his attack was successful and she released herself from Isopia, he would try to position himself before the demigoddess. If the dragons were to be involved, let them fight kind against kind.

Blood trickled in warm tributaries down Isopia's face. Where the blood ran, her face felt warm, and where Vadir had sliced through the thin skin of her face, she felt piercing cold. The deepest cuts were by her left eye and right cheek. The skin had been removed with an almost surgical grace: Vadir had removed part of the marking that underlined Isopia's eye, and a good deal of the 'teeth' portion of the marking on her cheek. Blood flowed freely from these areas, and as Isopia clenched her teeth, the tensing muscle could clearly (and gruesomely) be seen on the right side.

"COWAR-" She screamed, cutting off the word as a fresh bolt of pain echoed through her jaw, as her cut cheek broadcast its disapproval at being stretched due to her insult.


Attack: 2/4
WC: 776

isopia
Did you think we'd be fine? Still got scars on my back from your knife.
So don't think it's in the past, these kinda wounds they last and they last.

Image Credits

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#4


Had.

How is it that a simple word can hurt far, far more than the eruption of agony in his side?

How is it that he would rather break every bone in his body than ever hear that word again?

The goliath cannot possibly know the truth of why his child is no more. There's something innocent about his utter faith in this woman, despite everything they've been through - it does not cross his mind that there's anything nefarious about the loss of their foal. Instead, when she speaks, his face clouds with sorrow and he hangs his proud head, the embodiment of misery. "Kis hollo, I'm so sorry." He thinks of the child he will never meet; the beautiful product of their union, fallen into ashes.

But Vadir is still attacking with unrelenting force, and the stallion is forced to gather his plethora of feelings into a small box which he stashes firmly at the back of his mind. The queen's fire is stymied by Hubris' ice, but her claws sink into their target, and they sink deep. Volterra's mind pulses with the gold's blissful pleasure whilst his own brain feels only horror. "Vadir, for fuck's sake, stop it! Leave her alone!" He hobbles forwards a step, his side a wall of agony, not quite knowing what use he is going to be against his own companion.

Out of the corner of his eye, the beast sees Hubris' jaws opening inexorably. His heart skips a beat as the bronze summons a blast of ice and electricity towards Vadir's back; there's no way she can see the attack, intent as she is upon ravaging Isopia's face into a Glasgow smile. As much as he wants her to stop, Volterra's heart spasms with a foreign emotion at the thought of Vadir being grievously hurt - fear.

But suddenly the sky blurs with red as Vérzés launches himself forwards. He has taken Hubris' attack as a personal affront - to strike from behind? To strike his golden sister, when he thought they were friends? Between bronze and gold he flies, a thorn between two roses, a mere peasant against the royalty that surrounds him; Hubris' attacks hit him with full force and he gives an agonised yowl that cuts Volterra to the quick. A broken leaf, he flutters unconscious to the ground at Isopia's hooves, completely at her mercy. The stallion's mind explodes with pain and panic strikes him at the sudden absence of Vérzés' consciousness; it feels like a void in his head. Is this what it would be like if one of his dragons died? He cannot bear it - he wants to run to his companion but his rib won't allow it, so he's forced to simply stand like a blackened statue of cold terror and pray Isopia will not harm the prone dragon.

Vadir launches backwards, casting a cold glance down at her crimson brother. Volterra's mental pleas for her to stand down fall on deaf ears, because she is doing the right thing. She is asserting their authority, as it should be asserted.

Nothing else matters but her and her mammoth bonded. Not Vérzés, her much-maligned red brother, the common, the inferior, although his bravery in taking the attack meant for her is noted and causes him to inch up a few knots in her estimations. Not Nymeria, twin of her stallion's soul, light to his darkness. Not the legions of women who warm Volterra's bed, nor the children that spew from his loins. And certainly not this Mountain, this colossal woman, her bonded's kryptonite, his conscience, his heart.

Nothing matters but herself, Volterra, and the empire they will build together. So the queen slams shut her ears, steels the devil in her soul, and continues her attacks.

She rises, then plummets with arms extended. She attempts to wrap these around Hubris in a vice grip, and tries to use her superior weight to slam the bronze down and into the ground. Jaws gaping, she aims a blast of fire directly at him to try and incinerate those pretty bronze scales, her mind still blind to Volterra's attempts to stop her.

Instead, the behemoth looks to Isopia with true panic in his eyes. He doesn't know what she is capable of in her grief (as he assumes it is grief that has driven her to this), and it would be so easy for her to crush the life from Vérzés with one mammoth hoof. Coward, she tries to say, and ordinarily this insult would rile him into action regardless of how false it is, but his concern for his dragon far outweighs his prickled pride. "I'm not going to fight you, kis hollo! Please, allow me to collect Vérzés. He is not part of this."

_______

@Isopia !

For this post, our dose of Taylor is: 'Did you have to ruin what was shiny? Now it's all rusted.' Because Vérzés has got real rage about his scales.

2/4 - 799 words

V O L T E R R A
ARE WE WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO SAVE US FROM BURNING TO DUST?
SHOULD YOU BUILD ALL YOU HAVE OUT OF NOTHING BUT ANGER AND LUST?



Also another emotion for his quest: fear

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#5

His sorrow does something to her. Later perhaps, in a quieter moment of reflection, she might feel softened by those words: I'm so sorry. But this moment is neither quiet nor capable of supporting reflection. For Isopia, there is only room for reaction and anger in her fractured mind. Only room to hate him for what he's done.

For what he made her do.

Sorry!? She wants to scream, but the wound on her cheek stays her tongue. No. You're selfish. The self-proclaimed academic wishes she knew how to brew the synonym her mind was searching for, but she knew only some of the ingredients. He was selfish, but that wasn't all. He was short-sighted, pig-headed. He was stupid, but in an unpalatable and culpable way. A way that made her hate him, but also made her wish with agonizing desperateness that she could rewind time and save both of them from his mistakes. Was there even a word for that? A word for a mistake that somehow ruins what fate had planned, a word that was large enough to shelter a mountain's worth of pain and anguish, betrayal and rage? Perhaps not, but Isopia knew of a word that meant all of those things to her:

volterra.

Her her mind is still deciding whether or not screaming at him is worth the pain it will inflict upon her shredded face, when she sees a blur of red. For a moment, Isopia is unsure whether what she sees is blood from Vadir's attacking dripping in front of her eye, or something out in the world. A painful blink of her eyes reveals that it is Vérzés, and despite the pain that lowering her head causes, she sees that he is laying motionless at her hooves. The demigoddess furrows her brows (and subsequently winces at the pain). For a moment her outrage is forgotten, as is the context in which she finds herself. She is stunned to see the dragon so still, for it hasn't occurred to her that he is injured, and that those injuries are due to the confrontation she has forced between herself and the dragon's bonded. As understanding falls upon her, her ears pin and she glares at Volterra. In her fury, it is all too easy to attribute every wrong doing to him. She has become so comfortable with ascribing to him every ounce of available blame, that even her academic and (usually) rational mind finds no fault with the way she glares at him.

The earth rumbles around the small dragon, rising to form a rough cave him so that no other harm will easily come to him, should he remain where he is.

Meanwhile, despite Hubris' affections for the red dragon, his blue gaze has ever been on the golden queen. Because the gold is larger and bulkier than Hubris, you might be tempted to think that he is somehow more nimble than she. However even were this the case, the bronze does not display any aerobatics. He allows himself to be gripped by the hostile beauty, for to do anything else would be to allow potential danger to come to Verzes or Isopia. No, he must keep this murderess close if he is to protect those around him. In a moment of free fall, as Vadir pulls his body towards the ground, Hubris has a shining moment to suddenly realize that perhaps being bonded to Isopia has impacted him more than he has given her credit for. The dragon suddenly realizes that he's never been touched by a member of his species before, especially not a female. That his first contact comes in the form of a hug meant to crush his bronzey body saddens him, but there's only time for a second of sadness, before he must act.

Hubris wriggles in her grip, flaring his wings to try and loosen her hold. He is unsuccessful, and their bodies hit the earth, knocking the wind out of the bronze dragon. It is only the luck of gravity that causes Hubris to pitch left instead of right, and save the back of his skull and shoulders from Vadir's fiery blast. His tail feels bruised, and he has landed badly on one of his legs. Pain trickles upwards in pinpricks, but Hubris tries to ignore it. Instead, he turns around, blue eyes looking for the gold. His jaws open to release his own attack towards her - though this blast is pure electricity. He hopes to temporarily paralyze her with his wide arc of magic, so that she will have time to consider his words and listen to reason.

>>Not our fight!<< He trills, hoping that she understands that resolution can only come from their bonded's, and not from their dragon's jaws.





Attack: 3/4
WC: 797

isopia
Did you think we'd be fine? Still got scars on my back from your knife.
So don't think it's in the past, these kinda wounds they last and they last.

Image Credits

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#6


Relief spasms through the leviathan's heart as Isopia encases Vérzés in a layer of protective stone. He's safe there; Volterra can feel his mind, weak but present, a beautiful heartbeat of life inside his mind. The beast cannot put into words how he feels, so he simply allows himself to sag with relief, muscles unclenching and ears lifting from his skull.

There's a euphoric howl as Vadir and her bronzed foe crash into the ground, and she flares her wings upon impact to launch herself back into the air. Hubris' electric breath lashes against her stomach and she snarls as shockwaves rocket through her body, tensing her muscles and bidding her eyes to roll painfully in her head.

Not our fight, he says. The gold fixes him with one cold eye as she hovers, the aftershocks of his breath rasping through her glimmering frame. Her jaws slide agape again, to release another tornado of flame which she attempts to direct towards the grounded bronze.

"His fight my fight. Mountain stop, I stop." Her draconic trill is just white noise to Volterra's ears, and he assumes she is saying something offensive; he cannot possibly know that she is vowing to fight alongside him until Isopia stops her assault. He sees Vadir cut off her inferno and launch towards the mammoth mare once again, and his heart skips a beat.

He has to stop her. Isopia has not attacked him directly since the earthen fist she slammed against his ribcage, and he thinks she can be placated; if the Mountain was truly intent on destroying him, then she would surely have already taken advantage of his agony-induced immobilisation. There will be no better opportunity to fell the blackened behemoth; he has never been in this much pain before, has never been this helpless before. Volterra usually fights with a berserker rage fuelled by his volcanic temper, which sends steel into his veins and iron into his skin. It numbs his wounds with adrenaline and ensures he can focus on nothing else but victory. But here, he isn't angry. He's confused, hurt, and a little embarrassed; he's ashamed of the fire of hope that he allowed to burn in his heart, now smothered to embers. He's still aching with the unpleasant aftereffects of his fear for Vérzés' life, and he's also feeling the first ebbings of sadness over the child he will never get to meet. There is no rage for him to wield like a sword.

Overall, he's a sitting duck. If she truly wished to crush him, then it would be all too easy.

So why hasn't she?

Is it because her heart isn't truly set on her revenge? Is it because, deep down, she still feels something for him, in that husk of a heart that grief has built a wall around? There's something of kis hollo left in this Isopia, this Mountain, this formidable goddess of earth and fury; she had Vérzés at her mercy, where one swing of a hoof would have ripped a segment of Volterra's soul from his chest and caused him more torture than any broken bone. She has not annihilated Volterra himself when it is her best chance to do so, given his staunch refusal to fight back and his crippling injury. She can be reasoned with, he knows it.

But he has to stop Vadir before she burns whatever tiny splinter of a bridge remains.

He draws inspiration from how he'd prevented Vadir attacking Sikeax that time on the beach, capturing her in a stone cage. With a pained grunt, the goliath summons a curving wave of earth which he aims toward his golden dragon, attempting to use the structure to scoop Vadir gently downwards and hold her in a prison of earth to stop her from harming the Mountain.

But he fails.

Catastrophically.

Hearing the rumble of earth behind her, Vadir turns. She is presented with a great spike of rock, and there's a thunderous scream as it crunches into her. Agony erupts through Volterra's mind as two of the gold's left ribs crack just as his own had; she spirals down to the ground with a sickening thud and they crack more. She flounders against the grass, unwilling to give into unconsciousness like her red brother had. Her ribs break further with her insistent thrashing, and each splinter of bone drives nails of red-hot agony into Volterra's head.

He'd harmed his own companion. "Vadir, shit," he croaks as he hobbles towards her, painfully slowly. Still she flails, refusing to submit to the shattered bones in her side, unwilling to succumb even as bellows of rage and suffering emit from her gaping jaws. Volterra suddenly cares not if Isopia attacks him again; he just needs to get to his dragon.

_______

And today's quote: 'Did you have to do this? I was thinking that you could be trusted'. Vadir ain't gonna forgive.

3/4 - 799 words

V O L T E R R A
ARE WE WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO SAVE US FROM BURNING TO DUST?
SHOULD YOU BUILD ALL YOU HAVE OUT OF NOTHING BUT ANGER AND LUST?


[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#7

For a moment it seemed that the climax of the battle had possibly come and gone. The rising action had stopped rising, or so it seemed for Volterra and Isopia. With the introduction of the bronze, red, and gold dragons, the emphasis had seemingly come away from the equines, from Isopia's (un)righteous anger, and the topic of the pair's unborn child. It was now a fight among dragons, though one which was quickly coming to an end.

Due to the stunted nature of Isopia's emotional development, her emotional stamina was equally stunted, and already the rage that had blossomed brightly in her chest was beginning to wane as Volterra failed to attack her. She simultaneously wanted him to meet her challenging gaze and actions with his own, and was also repulsed by the idea of his flesh ever touching hers again (hence why her first attack was a ranged one). And yet part of her just wanted to shrug the entire thing off. To turn away from the monochromatic manwhore and leave with her cousin.

The attractiveness of the idea was so compelling, that the demigoddess was in the process of turning away, when heat suddenly seared across her thoughts and skin. As Vadir and Hubris' bodies landed before her, it was Isopia's forelegs that received the brunt of Vadir's fiery blast. Isopia tried to rear above the fire, but of course the searing heat had already worked its way into her skin and against her bones (or so it felt). Though ridiculous, the earthen girl thought that she could actually feel her skin stretching away from the heat, and her maroon and cream hair fusing together to form a hardened and painful shell. Isopia's mouth opened to emit a cry of pain, which was amplified as the gaping wound on her cheek seemingly doubled its efforts to cause her pain. Isopia didn't have time to curse herself for her decision to rear, for despite the pain that warbled anew through her scalded legs as she landed upon them, it seemed that Volterra finally was going to attack her. 

A wall of earth rose in her direction (or so she thought). Knowing that scrambling anywhere on her wounded legs would result in a drastically reduced getaway, Isopia's mind defaulted back to the first attack she had made, and repeated it. Another helping of earth near Volterra suddenly rose. It was directed roughly in the same place as it had been before, and thrown with the same haphazard aim. If nothing else, the meager part of Isopia's mind that dallied in tactical decisions thought that it might distract Volterra enough that his concentration might be lost, and his earth-missile wouldn't find its target. 

Perhaps that explained why the mound Isopia had thought was meant for her, suddenly struck Vadir hard enough to send the golden creature flailing on the ground. 

Both Hubris and Isopia's mouths opened in shock as the dragon queen screeched her outrage, however that is where the similarity in their reactions ended. Hubris stayed where he was, despite the queen's enthusiastic and repeated attempts to maim him. He whistled a low note of concern as he remained on the ground by her, trying to remove clods of earth from her wounded body. However as Volterra hobbled closer, Isopia withdrew several steps. Her nostrils flared wildly, and her golden eyes glared at him behind a mask of clotting blood and drooping skin.

Taking the brief reprieve afforded by Volterra's concern for Vadir, Isopia called upon her magic once more. This time however, it was directed upon herself. A vaguely dragon-shaped mass of water suddenly appeared before her and then slammed into her forelegs. Water splashed down the Mountain's newly-burned skin simultaneously soothing and sending a fresh spike of pain into her mind.

"Do you hurt everyone you love so easily?" She spat, tasting blood and exhaustion on her lips. Perhaps she was more tired than she gave herself credit for, since her vastly academic mind didn't even realize the implication of what she had said. Subconsciously, she clearly meant to include herself in both the category of things Volterra had hurt and the things that he had loved, but never would she have entertained the idea of speaking that outloud. For that would be to invite him to wound her again, and to explicitly say once and for all that which she already knew: that she was nothing to him. Her words betrayed her; a cry of hope coating the words she meant to wound him with.

But emotional and physical exhaustion blinded her to this blunder, and the Mountain that (didn't) Know was content to continue to glare at Volterra as he tended to his dragon.


Attack: 4/4
WC: 788

isopia
Did you think we'd be fine? Still got scars on my back from your knife.
So don't think it's in the past, these kinda wounds they last and they last.

Image Credits

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#8


He hardly notices as Vadir's inferno laps against Isopia's forelegs, so focused is he on attending to his stricken dragon. The gold's agony is palpable, a tidal wave of torture billowing from her mind to his; whereas Vérzés had simply fallen into a warm blanket of unconsciousness in which pain cannot reach him, Vadir rages against the sweet embrace of oblivion. She flails and twists, thrashes and screams, and each furious movement of her massive body sends splinters of torture into Volterra's mind.

He finally reaches her, and lowers his head towards her golden scales. In the back of his brain, it occurs to him that dipping his skull in the middle of what is essentially a battlefield is not a good idea, that presenting such a vulnerable part of himself to an angry demigoddess is about as sensible as politely offering his throat to a starving wolf. But he only cares that his dragons are hurting, because of him. When he took their eggs, he swore an oath to two dragon-mothers; that he would protect their precious hatchlings at all costs. He swore that they would come to no harm whilst they remained bonded to his mind; he swore that he had a duty of care to both magnificent creatures.

He has failed them.

His muzzle gently touches Vadir's heaving side, and her anguished howls are like razors in his ears. I'm so sorry, he whispers. The ironic thing is, if this was a real battle, the beast would be thrilled with the queen's never-say-die attitude. He would be flushed with pride about Vérzés' self-sacrifice, and awestruck by Vadir's fiery defiance. But, try as he might, he cannot see this as a proper fight. Not against her, his kis hollo, whom he would never dream of laying a hoof upon; and, indeed, has refrained from attacking even as his shattered rib cries out for retribution. He would never hurt Isopia, therefore to him this cannot be a battle.

It is simply grief counselling, with added dragons.

Volterra might not be the sharpest thorn in the thicket, but he thinks he understands why Isopia is doing this. She has lost her child, which would be enough to send even the coldest mind into a downward spiral. He placed that child in her womb, therefore, by extension, her pain and misery is his fault. This is a logic that he can work with. The death of one's foal must incite grief beyond comprehension, and it strikes him he and Isopia are more alike than he'd ever dared believe - she, like him, is channeling unfamiliar, unwanted emotions into rage, because the alternative hurts too damn much.

Oh, how wrong he is.

Out of the corner of one eye, he sees Hubris attempting to help. Volterra's exhausted, pain-addled mind is warmed by the sight, and for a moment the dragon has his attention. He wonders what the bronze has seen, bonded as he is to Isopia's broken mind. He is privy to all of the Mountain's most personal thoughts and feelings, and Volterra cannot contemplate how he copes with such a burden placed upon his young shoulders - after all, he's barely older than Vadir, who (despite her many protestations otherwise) is hardly into adulthood yet.

Crunch.

Isopia's summoned earth catches him unawares, smashing into his already damaged right side. One rib was broken by her first attack, but the one next to it had only been fractured - until now. Mercifully, the break is clean - no splinters to invite infection or pierce lungs - but that is little consolation. He staggers sideways, his breath catching into his throat and transforming into a wheeze; it is unbearable, needles of suffering inserted into his entire right side, pain that no mortal man should ever have to endure....

Darkness engulfs the edges of his vision, but through the hazy mist he hears her voice. Love. "You...know?" He thought he'd kept it private, locked inside his mind, only whispered in post-coital bliss to the sweat upon her withers. It is the Thing That Isn't Said, the world's worst-kept secret, and yet the fact she knows makes him feel naked. Vulnerable. Open, his weakness displayed for her pleasure, because that's what it is - weakness. He is not supposed to love, simply fuck; it is the domain of lesser men, even if the woman in question is his childhood best friend, his slow burn...even if he reassures himself that love does not require monogamy...

He holds on by the thinnest thread of consciousness, unwilling to succumb to his torment. With a final roar, Vadir aims another blast of flame towards Isopia, a last word. Then she sinks reluctantly into sleep, and leaves Volterra's mind empty of everything but his own faint, flickering thoughts.

_______

'And rub it in so deep, salt in the wound like you're laughing right at me'. Salt in the wound, an earthy punch to the broken ribs....

4/4 - 799 words

Thanks for a great fight Odd! <3

V O L T E R R A
ARE WE WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO SAVE US FROM BURNING TO DUST?
SHOULD YOU BUILD ALL YOU HAVE OUT OF NOTHING BUT ANGER AND LUST?


[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#9

Knowing was what Isopia did. It was who she was. And so, as Volterra interpreted what she said in a way that she didn't immediately understand (for the truth of her words was still buried far deep in the reddish-black waters of her subconscious), Isopia froze. Unwilling to admit that there was something that he believed she knew - something that she clearly ought to have known - but didn't, Isopia nodded. Into her eyes she forced a look of disappointed understanding, a pretense of Yes. I know.

Though perhaps it was better that they were both dancing around the subject: Isopia unwilling to let herself believe it, and Volterra unwilling to have himself say it. Because if they ever did admit that it was love that still tethered them together and not fate, then perhaps things would change. Perhaps Isopia would find it a great deal easier to forgive him for his transgressions, and for his part, perhaps Volterra wouldn't continue to commit them. 

Raising her still-clotting head upwards slightly, Isopia motioned over her shoulder. She meant to look cold, and strong, and though physical vanity had never been a vice of hers, in that moment, she hoped that the wounds on her face made her look ... how would Ros put it? Bad ass.

"She's a demigoddess too." Isopia spat flatly, circling back to the she was my cousin! comment that he had conveniently neglected to respond to. "Maybe you'd like to -" She wanted to say fuck her as well, but the vulgarity of it felt so wrong,\ that she stopped mid sentence. Why wasn't she better at this? For the first time in her life, she wished she could borrow Ros's vocabulary and crass phrasing. In her mind, she thought if she could do that, she could properly say what it was she was thinking. But as it was, she just didn't have the toolbox to fit the words together in a way that was poignant, but also sarcastic and biting"-complete the set. Collect all three." She finished. It didn't have the ring to it that she wanted, but it was out now. Her golden gaze fixed on him, that familiar concoction of betrayal, regret, and love stirring in her veins, wanting him to feel the sting of this moment as clearly as she did, but knowing that he never would. He hadn't understood that day she had tried to wound him with her words on this mountain top, and though her magic had the power to cause him pain, it seemed her words never would. 

Hubris meanwhile, was well versed in dealing with the ebb and flow of Isopia's mind and so was able to rise above the frenetic waves of her thoughts and emotions, and focus on Vadir. The golden queen hadn't listened to his advice, and now lay nearly unconscious on the ground because of it. He thought that as her head rose, that she might have a word of remorse for him, or at least a look of you were right. But rather than seeing his logic and accepting his assistance, he watched as if in slow motion, as her jaws began to open. The bronze could see the valves of fire working on the back of her throat , and despite his weariness, he forced himself to move. Leaping forwards, Hubris dove in front of Isopia's scalded and burned legs, taking the brunt of Vadir's fire onto himself. Pain radiated outwards, and unlike his bonded, the dragon opened his jaws emitting an anguishing scream of pain. He did not have the same emotionless code that Isopia did, and so let the agony that surged over his body echo from his opened jaws. 

He landed at Isopia's hooves with a dull thud, desperately clinging to consciousness. His bright blue stare rose to try and find Isopia's, a last pleading trill and mental pulse of stop this was all he could manage before those eyes darkened and he slipped into the black just as the other two dragons had.

Wide-eyed, Iso could feel the chilling nothingness permeate her mind where Hubris' consciousness had just been. Without regard for her own injuries, she scooped up the bronzey body with her wings, cradling him to her chest. Her watery magic poured over his small body and through her feathers, as she held both him and her breath. 

I hate you, she wanted to scream as her eyes, shiny with tears, rose to find Volterra's ruby stare. But those words weren't good enough, and she knew if she released the breath she was holding, she wouldn't be able to hold back the flood of screams that were brewing in the back of her throat. A flood of screams, in which I love you, would surely have been the loudest.



Attack: Closing Defense
WC: 799

FUCK THIS WORD COUNT FOR REAL. We need a new prize or amulet called, "+100 extra words in a spar". fml. 

Best spar ever. Thanks Snow <3

isopia
Did you think we'd be fine? Still got scars on my back from your knife.
So don't think it's in the past, these kinda wounds they last and they last.

Image Credits

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#10
By my verdict: ISOPIA is the winner!

ISOPIA
Realism [+1.5]
Overall described actions well and took appropriate and well depicted damage. Your timing was well done and nothing was terribly out of the ordinary. Although using companions to fight is fine, I would have liked to see much more impact on the characters from this - i.e. feeling the pain your dragon feels, not just the absence when they black out. Additionally Hubris seemed to come from nowhere to defend Isopia; some background about where he was and how he got there in time would have been helpful. I’m also not sure how him falling to the left in post two meant he avoided being burned by the other dragon’s fire, so that needed more explanation.

I found it a little hard to believe that Isopia kept her head still as it was being clawed to ribbons by a dragon. Emotional or not, warrior or not, protecting one’s face and jerking away from pain are all natural and that wasn’t. Your first post was definitely the strongest, tying in some scenery which other posts significantly lack, along with breed comparisons.


Emotion [+2.5]
Very emotional all throughout, though it seemed strongest in the beginning. I fully understood Isopia’s motivations and got a great sense of her with the entire fight, and I thoroughly enjoyed how separate Hubris was and how he responded to the other dragons’ assaults. Namely when he still tried to help the trapped gold that had just been savagely fighting him for several posts.


Prose [+3.5]
Well written with a great vocabulary and flow. I enjoyed your imagery and some of your style choices interspersed. Your first post particularly was beautiful.


Readability [+2.5]
Easy to read and understand all throughout with proper grammar and sentence structure. Avoiding starting so many sentences with “and” and “but”.

P3:
“...a rough cave him so …” (missing something)


Finally tally: 42+(10*2)= 62 HP

*******************************************

VOLTERRA
Realism [-2]
You described your attacks well. Your injuries were generally well described, if frequently over the top - I know you took a lot of high damage rolls, but you reacted to most of them like critical hits. I’m also not sure why you broke more of your ribs in your fourth post when that was only a damage roll of 4 =/ yet on the opposite end you have your dragon take a full electric breath attack from Hubris and she seems unphased, which wasn’t plausible.

I liked that the heavy damage Volterra took early on with broken ribs heavily affected him the whole fight, however in both instances when he broke ribs he tried to speak directly afterwards which seems unlikely - similarly when Vadir broke her ribs, it seems unlikely she’d even be able to unleash a flame breath still, much less still want to (even for all her rage, something as severe as multiple, still breaking ribs tends to dampen oneself…).

Throughout the fight you seemed to struggle with timing. In your first post you write Volterra as confused/bewildered, yet he somehow still has the time to erect a partial barrier of earth around himself - which doesn’t explain what earth he uses since Isopia took that right around him and controlled it (I would also have like to see his balance much more affected by her magic). Your timing is also off in your fourth post where you write Isopia as being burned after Vadir falls, when it was before, and similarly say that Isopia hits Volterra with her earth magic after Vadir falls when that was also before.

The fight lacked surroundings and breed mentions, and with it being so heavily focused on the companions fighting instead of the characters, I would have liked to have seen a lot more reaction to the injuries and feelings happening with the dragons. Your second post was your strongest.


Emotion [+1.5]
I enjoyed the emotion Volterra displayed, especially the variety of feelings he went through, however I often felt told his feelings rather than shown. I thought you played the two dragons very well, but was expecting some stronger reactions to their injuries, defiance, and faints - the companion link affects emotions as well as thoughts and images passed along, so given just how upset Vadir was, I would have thought it’d affect Volterra much more significantly.


Prose [+2.5]
You had well written posts with some great flow and imagery throughout. I thought your third post was the strongest.


Readability [+3]
Very readable and correct, however sometimes too many commas were used which made sentences more choppy.


Finally tally: 31+(5*2)= 40 HP


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