the Rift


Show me what ya workin' with [Tembovu v Roskuld]

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
#1
Continuation from here

kiss this
“Nah, life did that for me…”

His curiosity spiked—the King realizing that he knew so very little about this mare. What part of her life had taught her to wield this strange, piecemeal, electrified sword? How had she even acquired such a weapon? Navy eyes flickered to the crackling longsword while he shifted to face the woman. The blade was long enough to make up for the difference in their heights—the Elephant towering over the Sparklight. But their builds were both muscular, despite the disparity in their withers’ heights.

A small grin tilted up the corners of his thick, black lips as he saw her body swell and ready for a fight in response to his challenge. His amused, but eager, navy gaze followed the reach of her neck to grab the sword’s hilt in her mouth; his great skull dipped in affirmation of the question she asked around the blade’s handle, “I am sure.”

It, perhaps, was not the wisest of times to start a spar— with the sun relinquishing its throne in the sky. The light was growing murky, becoming that strange blue-violet that loved to play tricks on the eyes, especially when combined with the Edge’s mists. But this evening’s mists were light, burnt mostly off by the clear day’s sunlight. A glance of his eyes around his feet revealed plenty of glass shards littering the earth; apparently his crafters had missed this area in their constant struggle against clearing the glass. He would be glad for the spikes to erase most of the shards left in the soil.

Regardless, he knew his ivory hooves would yield beneath his weight and the glass’s sharp edge, so he would have to be mindful of them. Only his hind hooves bore the protection of horseshoes. But complication did not mute the thrum of adrenaline in his blood. On the contrary, it amplified it. What was a battle without additional difficulty? It made things all the more interesting.

The thought of sending Mbwene to fetch a glass spear crossed his mind—No—but that thought was dashed not only by her refusal, but also because he did not think glass would hold against steel. They did not need even more broken glass on the ground. Instead, with an outright grin sweeping across his muzzle, he rose on his hind limbs to the fullest extent of his gargantuan height. Then, with a snort, he angled his horn and attempted to have it come crashing down upon her longsword while rumbling, “Show me, Sparklight!”

Mbwene, meanwhile, looked on with a combination of vague disinterest and absolute distraction. She was perfectly happy with her trunk curled around the returned Chico and would not be participating in any more of her bonded’s fights. The last had been with the Icebound, and that had not ended well for anyone. So she would be remaining on the sidelines, snuggled into Chico’s luxuriously furry mane.


A: 1/3
D: 0/1
WC: 491
Damage Tracker: --
Summary: Tembo rears and tries to bring his big ol' horn crashing down on Sparkmarrow. Mbwene is chilling with Chico.

Setting: At border of WE, lots of glass on the ground, spattering of trees, light mist, dusk.
image & coding

@Roskuld I feel like Rob (hehe) is one of the few characters that would appreciate this table :D

Please tag Tembovu.

Roskuld the Sparklight Posts: 424
World's Edge General atk: 7.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Tribrid :: 15.3 :: 6 HP: 82 | Buff: ENDURE
Zchiraxicon :: Royal Rougarou :: Electric Smithers
#2

For all that talk about being raised by the streets when it came to wielding Sparkmarrow, this fight here and now was teaching me there was still a whole gob of shit I needed to learn.


Lesson Number One: You Can’t Pussyfoot It


Tembovu literally rose to the challenge, rearing to the highest possible impossible height he could reach, and there was a brief moment where he was laid out in front of me, his muscled body poised in excellent condition but vulnerable to a sweep of Sparkmarrow’s blade if I positioned it right. I took a step back to give myself room, and that was the moment a whole mess of shit fucked up for me.


First there was the--hesitation. It lasted for a second and only for a second, I swear, but there was that trepidation I couldn’t shake about attacking a real, whole person with my Pa’s sacred sword. This wasn’t Drolgatha; this wasn’t any of the Rift gods, sick with their own insanity seeping into the world as I knew it and corrupt it just as they had corrupted their own homes. This was Tembovu. Here was a dude who had shown me nothing but his own brand of rough kindness, a guy who was slowly yet surely melding himself in my head towards the “Friend” branch of my brain. He wasn’t a guy I wanted to cut, is what I’m saying.


So I hesitated (just a fraction of a second, I swear) and it was enough to throw my whole momentum off, for the weight of Sparkmarrow in my mouth to be skewed just enough to pull a muscle awkwardly in my neck. I tried to raise Sparkmarrow in that instant--but it wasn’t high enough and it wasn’t fast enough and Tembovu’s horn came crashing down against the flat of my blade with a CRASH, a shower of sparks cascading from the impact. Which threw my momentum off some more and my neck was straining with the awkward way I was holding Sparkmarrow--and I backpedaled away as quickly as I could, to gain some distance between us and refocus my whole strategy--


--cRACK--


--but in that moment I stepped on a piece of glass that lay hidden in the grasses beneath us. I was lucky; the sharp point of it wasn’t directly under my frog, which would’ve been a bitch-titty to deal with, let me tell you. It was still jutting out far enough to catch my heel, though, and I could still feel that stabbing in the back of my right hind foot with enough force that the shard of glass became stuck there. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It would be fine as long as it wasn’t pushed too far inside, which was gonna be an easy task, y’know, since it was a foot and all I do with it is hold the weight of my whole ass against it. No pressure, right? (Oops that was a pun)


I hissed from between Sparkmarrow’s hilt, jammed tightly as it was between my teeth. With a massive jerk of my head, I shifted the blade’s position from the left side of my body to the right side instead,  the sword at right angles with Tembovu’s horn and challenging expression, egging me on even though I had already messed up so bad. I couldn’t push off and charge him like I wanted to--y’know, cuz glass in the foot ‘n everything--but I heaved off anyway towards him with most of the power coming from my shoulders. I threw my head to the left and Sparkmarrow’s blade whistled out in a wide arc in front of me, its crackling blade clawing for his left shoulder, his front side, anything that was unfortunate enough to be in its path.





---
A: 1/3
D: 0/1
WC: 629
Damage Tracker: 
-Shard of glass caught in right hind foot




talk

Roses are Red
True Love is Rare
Booty Booty Booty Booty
Rockin' Errywhere




Please tag ROSKULD in every reply!

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
#3
kiss this
The longsword’s electrified length buzzed with angry energy as his gargantuan horn heavily collided with it, the sharp ridges of his ebony length jerkily slipping against the flat of Roskuld’s blade as his entire mass came behind the hit. Navy eyes closed against the shower of sparks that erupted from their contact before the Sparklight shuffled backwards, away from him. His ivory hooves thudded heavily on the earth as he fell back to all fours, no longer supported by his partner’s stocky mass as her haunches moved rearward.

Though she did not retreat that far away, her body abruptly stopping as if hitting some invisible barrier (were remnants of the glass wall behind her?). Black rimmed ears swiveled forward, navy eyes chancing a glance beyond her to see what suddenly halted her movements. He wanted to assess her skill with this extraordinary blade, not back her against some invisible corner to wallop on her. However, his brief glance revealed nothing, and he was glad for the relief he felt to continue their spar—this scrap was one of the more amiable and fun ones he had had in a long while.

Again, he rose onto his haunches as his eyes shifted away from Ros’s haunches and towards her armed front end—though this time not quite so high. But his (perhaps unwisely) diverted attention away from the sword’s crackling blade proved an opening for its sharp point, as Roskuld’s blade carved a cut through the bottom of his chest, the black skin parting neatly. The hide and muscle around the wound twitched at the strange, electrified sensation the cold steel had against his raw flesh. It more than a skin wound, but no chunks of flesh gaped from his chest—just a thin trickle of blood and a mild annoyance to accompany him for the remainder of the spar.

A lopsided grin broadened on his muzzle, “Good, Ros!” he grunted as he continued to rise on his haunches. His navy eyes gleamed with the pained amusement and injured camaraderie that only soldiers can manage on the training grounds—though his attention was focused on the sparking hilt. However, this time his massive ivory hooves struck out rather than his monstrous horn, and they aimed for whatever hilt was sticking out of the Sparklight’s mouth.

His aim was careful (or as careful as one could be in battle with a fresh wound across his chest), as he did not want his dangerously heavy hooves to damage her ‘moneymaker.’ His purpose was to either dislodge the sword’s hilt from her mouth, or shove it against her teeth to test her grip. However, he was not ignorant to his vulnerability to its sharp length as he rose partly on his haunches, so his neck curved slightly to the side so as to hopefully be able to parry away any of her damming blows with his horn.

Though, despite the amicable nature of this scuffle, a slight worry wiggled in the back of his mind as the light was nearly fully faded from the sky. Though this spar was meant to test skill and strengthen bonds, in the low lighting with such dangerous weapons, a serious injury could easily occur… Ah well, the King mentally shrugged of the concern, for once free to be a friendly warrior rather than concern-laden King in the Sparklight’s company.


A: 2/3
D: 0/1
WC: 562
Damage Tracker: Flesh wound across bottom of chest
Summary: Ros's sword cuts a wound on his chest while he's rearing up (again) to strike at/dislodge the sword's hilt in Ros's mouth.
image & coding

@Roskuld

Hi, my name is Smitty and I have a problem with replying to spars on time :|

Please tag Tembovu.

Roskuld the Sparklight Posts: 424
World's Edge General atk: 7.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Tribrid :: 15.3 :: 6 HP: 82 | Buff: ENDURE
Zchiraxicon :: Royal Rougarou :: Electric Smithers
#4


Lesson Number Two: FIRMLY GRASP IT


Sparkmarrow’s edge sliced into Tembovu too easily, as though it wasn’t a massive stud trying to fight me but a monstrous ball of animated cotton instead. That alone shook me--but I was grateful for that feeling of alarm. It’s hard to explain...Like, I knew I was being pulled into this fight, and I was starting to feel it, but I didn’t want to fall in a trap of enjoying hurting someone. I liked to fight, sure, and I liked fighting Tembovu like this--but my heart hitched at the feeling of Sparkmarrow pulling into his skin so smoothly, so disturbingly easily. There were no doubts about it; Sparkmarrow was powerful. And I was glad that I wasn’t gonna end up getting drunk off that.


My worry lasted all two seconds though, cuz Tembo was screaming GOOD SHIT at me (I’m paraphrasing, I dunno) and his hoof came out of nowhere, too fast and too near for me to react to with Sparkmarrow’s blade. He punched me in the face, right in my goddamn mouth, and that, along with my previous hesitation before, was enough to blow Sparkmarrow right through my teeth, the blade being flung down to the frozen grass.


“AWGH, BITCH,” I screamed on impulse, with a jaw and a set of teeth that felt bruised and fragile; I wasn’t sure if I was calling Tembo that or the sword that or what. Chico, from his vantage point snuggled right up against his ‘Bwenny girl, gave a show of his support with a coughing growl of laughter at my expense. T’ha, dumbass, he mocked through our mental link, scooting even closer to Mbwene with a rumbling purr in his chest. Wow, okay, jeez. Way to be a traitor so fast, man. (Ye.)


My next move was instant; on blind impulse, I gathered the spark that buzzed in my bones and aimed it square at Tembovu with a massive zpKA!! If this were a normal fight, I would’ve followed up with a charge, cuz all of me had the instinct to just go ham on his ass for landing a blow to my mouth like that (I ain’t hot on face-shots). But his blow was fair and this was a demonstration of Sparkmarrow. The blade was the focal point of this whole fight, and I couldn’t just…forget about it now.


So as the sparkbolt left my horn, I trusted its cover and ducked down, my lips fumbling for the hilt in the grass.

_______

A: 2/3
D: 0/1
WC: 418
Damage Tracker:
-Shard of glass caught in right hind foot
-Bruised mouth





talk

Roses are Red
True Love is Rare
Booty Booty Booty Booty
Rockin' Errywhere


@Tembovu <3



Please tag ROSKULD in every reply!

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
#5
[quote='Tembovu' pid='193367' dateline='1480166273']
kiss this
His hoof connected more solidly than he had intended—the King slightly winced as he felt the clatter of the hilt against her teeth through his leg. He knew, from experience, that hilts against teeth were painful, indeed. But then he shook it off, chuckling slightly, “Cursing about it won’t help your grip,” was his amused, lighthearted rebuke. Though he was not left long in his joking approbation as the Sparklight’s next moves were blindingly (electrically) quick.

An impulse of energy hit the Elephant King straight in the chest, knocking him backward a few hard steps as his skin crackled with heat where the electricity hit him. His heart stuttered once, twice—the great organ reset by her powerfully electrical charge. His great knees wobbled as the black hide of his chest immediately sloughed, his tough hide no match for electricity. Navy eyes glaze over, brain crying for oxygenated blood as he swayed on his great hooves.

LUB-DUB.

The powerful, reset of his heart was painful, and he grunted stale air out of his lungs as his starved nerve endings were awash with new, hot blood. Instinct took over (or, newly learned instinct) and an elephant beast of magma exploded from his already burnt chest. A deep groan ripped from him, the pain and regret pounding against his chest and skull.

Makende! Move!” He cursed aloud, his deep voice cracking in pain as he voiced his mother tongue followed by a command of Roskuld to move out of the way of his charging angry beast. “Do not let it touch you!” The Elephant groaned, wishing against reason that he could control the magma-beast once it left his chest. Alas, he could not, and the furious creation charged forward, blinding searching for a victim to explode upon. Its dripping tusks sizzled against the ground as it furiously raised its miniature trunk. Mbwene trumped in alarm, moving from her snuggle with Chico in order to be prepared to run.

“We test your ability with the sword!” this time, his vocal rebuke lacked any humor and a dangerous glint had entered his dark gaze. He had not wanted any magic to enter this spar—and now they both were in danger from his popping, silently trumpeting magma magic.

His movements were sluggish as pounding pain pulsed from the weeping flesh of his chest. He had never experienced an electrical wound before—and they hurt.


Makende = Ballzzzz


A: 3/3
D: 0/1
WC: 403
Damage Tracker: Flesh wound across bottom of chest; electrical burn wound on chest/temporary heart arrhythmia
Summary: Ros's electricty hits him in chest, hurts him, and he instinctively sends out a magma elephant D:
image & coding

@Roskuld
OMG PANIC POSTED i forgot about this D:

Please tag Tembovu.

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Blu
#6
Time limit exceeded. Roskuld defaults to Tembovu. Tembovu earns 0.5 VP.
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode


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