the Rift


Beating of the Waves

Ru Posts: 130
World's Edge Captain atk: 7.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1h :: 3 [Tallsun] HP: 60.5 | Buff: Novice
Mar
#1

A harsh wind assaulted the shore of the Endless Blue. The sky, gray and ill as the waves crashed along the beach. The salt spat into her face, the wind – tugged the edges of each and every feather from her skin. She tossed her head into the ocean’s horizon with a careless grin. Where the wind drove off of, hungry and alive with a ferocious movement.
 
Ru licked her lips as she considered the stage. Brought her gaze back against the wet sand. An unsteady ground, a wicked wind. Snow covered the rocks left untouched by the ocean’s reach. However the moisture clung wherever it could. And somehow that made the temperature more frigid, as if, instead of passing through one’s body it merely clung and hibernated against one’s skin. Absorbing the heat in a prolonged hypothermia, as opposed to the stark coolness of mountaintops and glacial fields.
 
There were certain odds fighting on the sand. But they were odds the mare felt inclined to test. A fight would always provide its disadvantages, its cruel weight in experiences, or the uneven uses of magic – especially in this world. To train without these elements, without the challenge of the unsteady earth and the roar of the ocean beside her – there was no point. No point at all, if she wasn’t capable of testing her limits.
 
As she reared up in a ceremonious cry, Ru did not feel as trepid as she once did. While her cracked and disjointed voice cried out for an opponent, she could feel the wind; the cold and the prospect of triumph inhabit her soul with a beaming confidence. The uncertainty, for once, thrilled her. And the impending doom – raised her heartbeat with a fevered, eager breath.
 
She would learn to love the pain, the struggle, and the risk.
 
She would bear their mark, and rear them with an unconditional love.
 
Ru’s wings snapped out, and closed her eyes briefly as the wind pushed and pulled her form. Legs steadying those alabaster sails, the winds threatening to topple her over. Though only for a moment to breathe in the sudden dread churning in her stomach. To swallow it down, let it rot and dissolve.
 
She snapped her eyes open, descending to the earth and setting out in a restless trot. Muscles coiling, as she picked her way through the shoreline. The waves to her left, bright and avid eyes searching for her challenger.

[0/3]
Words: 401



Image Credits


@Rikyn    --- spar thread!
Setting: Endless Blue, Frostfall, windy blustery day
Restrictions: None! Anything goes! :3
OOC: up to you if you want to take the first attack or not. Thanks for the spar! :3
Please Tag
Permision to use any violence/harm; nothing that would cause immediate death

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#2

There is a lone bird on the shore, calling for battle.

It is not a unicorn thing to do, that’s for sure; my steady pace halts, eyes narrowing to inspect the creature shouting to the curl of the cold wind above. Obviously winged, she is of a similar height and build to myself, though perhaps more compact, and less lean. Still, the depth of her chest, and the even fit of her sinew leads me to believe that she’s got the ability to run for hours. Regardless, I’ll bet I’m stronger, and faster. She’s not the same caliber of soldier that I am, though I suppose, with some training, she could be.

Younger than I am, her pelt seems unblemished from this distance, and a pang of conscience rising within me at the thought of accepting her challenge, which almost makes me turn back around. I’ve no business fighting someone like her, thinking of Albrecht’s spell, cast by his touch upon the blue stone carefully tucked between my shoulder, and the bronze of my plate armor. I’d almost killed him, the weak, feeble old man. What would stop me from hurting her, too? Her youth?

Somehow, I doubted it.

No fight? Duir asks, his forest eyes curious, she want to train. You strong.

Too strong, I begin to tell him, but he snorts, tossing his dark, leathery nose back over the frosted beach in her direction. Careless, maybe. Go, learn restraint.

Glaring at him for a few seconds, I decide that, maybe, he’s right. Looking back down the beach at the opponent, I propel myself forward, my own trumpeting cry of battle riling through the crisp air, hooves driving down into the frost hardened beach. For the first time since my friend and I became one, he runs with me, his lithe frame almost silent as he crosses the span of beach between us, and the opponent, his small, split hooves carrying him gracefully over the hard sand, where mine simply sink.

Are you sure? I ask him, wondering why he’s chosen this fight to join me, at last, as the small figure of the mare becomes life size, her perfume drifting on the salty air.

Someone watch you, is his smirking reply, the emotional tether between us suddenly gaining resolve; our hearts beat together, one rhythm, his filled with a youthful elation at the first fight, and mine with a worry that he might get hurt. I stay safe way out.

Closing upon her, only vaguely reassured by Duir’s words, I pull towards her right side, hoping to keep my metallic guard between her teeth and my skin. My buck pulls further right, his speed decreasing as mine accelerates, and when I find myself in a suitable range to begin a physical barrage, he comes to an easy halt somewhere behind me. I feel his energy gather, the magical ripple of his strange power tingling across my skin as I lunge towards her right shoulder; with a sideline strike of my blade, hopefully angled to that it only lightly grazes her skin, rather than cleanly slicing it, if its aim is true, the cerndyr’s magic takes complete hold.

A shimmering, nearly invisible shape, I pull my crown away from the attempted strike at her shoulder, again reaching out for her back or sides with my teeth, while still enveloped in Duir’s magical, chameleon skin. A proud smile still lingers on my lips as I withdraw, pulling ever so slightly back around to the right, hoping to loop back about from another frontal assault, and the deer’s magic slips away, like water rolling across a stone. The cold, stiff sand breaks apart beneath me in clumps, attempting to impede the dance of my usually graceful legs with its clinging embrace, but I do my best to remain abreast it, the windy, wild rush of the Goddess-tossed ocean a backdrop to the thump and thunder of our hooves.

1/3 | 657 words
[ OOC: :D thank you also! Duir has used his companion ability, which makes both him and Rikyn blend into their surroundings! He's still detectable, just quite difficult to see. :3 ]


Art by Esa82@DA

@Ru

Ru Posts: 130
World's Edge Captain atk: 7.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1h :: 3 [Tallsun] HP: 60.5 | Buff: Novice
Mar
#3
Ru takes in the wetness of the sand as she trots. The way it clumps and absorbs the energy from each step. How cumbersome it was compared to the careless throws of the sky – an element of ultimate abandon. Unbound, unhinged – reckless and unforgiving. It had taken her mother, she muses, omitting the tether from her heart.

Ru inhales steadily through her flared nostrils.

Shuddering under the icy breath of the ocean, she spots the unicorn with a trumpeting cry. It rings, pitches and tears into the space between them.

Am I ready?

A moment of doubt injects, just as the salt begins to sting her eyes. The girl positions herself head first, however, stopping to face the challenger - still with settled limbs as they close the distance. The folding waves behind her are only five meters away – why should she meet him there, in the dry and light sand? With a heavy grunt she shoulders the thought with an apathetic bandage.

Ru notes the sharp, obsidian crown that gleams pointedly gold in the gray scenery. The shadow that has embarked from the covers of the forest, is but a false illusion that is filled in by chocolate highlights, and even brighter, golden markings. A creature, much like a deer, follows its master’s lead with a religious, airy cadence. Its hide marked haphazardly by sharp lightening strikes – the girl wonders if its clue, a sign of hidden magic entrapped between the pair. Her brows furrow, forming sharp lines that hold her eyes with a beaming radiance.

Furthermore are the subtle outlines of the stallion’s muscles that move like a well-oiled machine. It’s sublime, despite the odds of his strength and agility that stack against her. Scars mar the stallion’s canvass, let’s the girl know she’s potentially struck luck with an experienced warrior. That it’s not going to be entirely fun, however, the desire to learn potentiates her eager spirit. If she could endure Volterra, surely, one as bodied and rounded shouldn’t prove to be much more feral than he.

At this point the girl is uncertain if she can endure him, for how long, depending on what transpires. He has less bulk than the black and white Indomitable titan. Not to mention the dull, bronzed shoulder guards that are strapped secured against his hide. How strange to see such a thing, clung to the sides of an equid?

Upon his approach the mare digs into the sands and sprints forwards to finally meet him. Catching the subtle movements of the creature that darts to the right. But her focus is upon the unicorn; and she takes it he will want to use the thorn upon his head. It flashes dangerously as they meet. Chasing after his movement, she begins to turn to her right in an attempt to face him.

However, Ru’s wings snapped out and up vertically when the horn darted towards her right shoulder. Alarm raged her senses, as its barbed end punctured past her soft and fuzzy coat. And into the superficial muscle tissue of her mid shoulder. The youth’s voice cried out, she could hardly contain it between her teeth. The pain was so fresh, so easily forgotten while the horn dragged downwards and became shallower as she gasped for air. Freeing itself with the stallion’s momentum just above her elbow.

And yet it reminded the girl how alive she truly was. How the storm that had ripped and tore her life apart inevitably shaped her distant, craving soul. And here she was, alive and bleeding. Eyes widen when the figure of the dark stallion shimmers into nothingness, only the ocean that rages behind them. Ru pursues her initial momentum nonetheless, moving right in a circle. Eyes searching for a sign – footsteps, that dig into the broken earth. She can feel his teeth grazing the top of her rump, as she pulls her legs along to follow her intended direction.

Where is he?!

She imagines where his body might be, darting her eyes to the floor. Marking the sand with a form that appears to be coming her way yet again. As soon as he materializes, shimmering into existence, the location of his barbed horn is lost for a moment - she lunges towards his front, hissing as the pain struck that shoulder. Taking another step she jumps up with her forelegs tucked in, a battering ram seeking purchase for his neck and chest. Wings a-flare. Teeth darting out, snapping at his left cheek.

The girl had hoped the water was to his back. That inevitably, she would force him closer to its relentless waters. Waves, hungry, and unsatisfied with the bland presence of sand. Perhaps they might appreciate the concentrated iron in their blood, or the torrent of two souls shuffling along their shore.

[1/3]
Words: 800/800


Image Credits


Damage Taken: cut from mid shoulder - to above the elbow (superficial muscle - shallow skin tear)
@Rikyn
Please Tag
Permision to use any violence/harm; nothing that would cause immediate death

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#4

Her unusual mane looms in my periphery as her body and mine clash, a cursory wonder as to whether such a mess of feathers itches incessantly crossing my mind as the tip of my blade delves for red gold. Duir’s sympathetic wince rises through our tethered minds, where the lightning-struck buck restlessly waits not a yard away, his verdantly green gaze seeking his next opportunity to be of assistance (to me, or the mare, if he thinks he needs to defend her), while my side of our unusual bond soars with the sensation of success.

Barely grazing her hindquarters with my teeth, a mirthful smirk rises at the comfortable invisibility I temporarily wear, and how it is surely unsettling for the opponent. She counters against her unseen foe with a maneuver which manages to cover a large swath of area, a clever tactic, especially for one who wears no scars; throwing her entire body forward, bloodied shoulder first, I’m forced pull up into a partial rear as I come back around to her, drawn into the cold shallows of the sea as I leap rightwards to avoid her, with a splash. The smell of her freshly spilled blood and the sound of battle rise among the howls of the sea-scented wind, and the additional splashes of my legs breaking the cadence of the frigid tide fill my senses.

Blowing a breath of relief that she’s missed me, the clack of her teeth still ringing in my left ear, all four of my hooves meet the soft sand beneath the frigid, swaying water, swirling about my ankles. Not taking the time to watch her, I let Duir do it for me; no warning rises from our spirit-connection, merely the sensation of sympathy, again, though I haven’t touched her. Wondering, the fuck? as I turn towards her, I don’t dance away, as some might expect. Instead, I drive towards her, my hooves sending droplets of cold water splashing against my belly and chest.

Not wanting to use my blade again, still satisfied with its initial, successful brandishing, I instead move to use my honed strength against hers. A childish eagerness rises within me in the first, cantered step, a yearning to feel the satisfying collision of my muscles forcing something else to give blooming alongside a wonder as to whether or not I can; all my previous attempts to go through an opponent like they were paper, or brittle branches, have resulted in me slamming into a brick wall, disguised beneath the opponent’s skin, and the black tint of my arrogant ignorance. She might be naturally built with the fortitude of a small bear, but, damn it, I’ve trained! If I can’t press my way through one unscarred bird to the shore, I’m not sure what all that pain has given me.

Thrusting my left shoulder forward now, the bronze-toned plate is hopefully slammed into her already maimed right shoulder, or side, my face is set with determination, and the faintest hint of a hopeful smirk. As I bull my way from the ocean, hopefully into her body, I simultaneously reach out with my teeth towards her feathered neck, bracing myself for the insidious sensation of slick, horrible feathers in my mouth if my aim is true, and the bite lands. Having forgot that I have the Time God’s stone stored between the metal and my skin, I’m likely in for a painful surprise of my own, if it does!

Regardless of the assault’s success or failure, I keep moving forward, lunging out of the shallows, the briny water drips from my legs, darkening the sand below with erratic streaks, and blots. My ankles, cold, ache as the sand presses against them, shining beads of silica clinging to the dark curls of my ankle’s curls of coffee black hair, but I try to ignore the unpleasantly clammy, damp, and gritty sensation for the more trying task at hand. Smirking, I taunt the dark dun as I move onto the shore.

"Come on!" I laugh, "you can do better than that!"

Sure, she may not be as skilled as I am, but even a babe can kill, if you don’t expect them to. Besides, like I mentioned on approach, she seems like a tough bitch, even if she might be a bit off in the head, shouting at the sky and all.


2/3 | 731 words



Art by Esa82@DA

@Ru

Wishlist - Plots

Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).

Ru Posts: 130
World's Edge Captain atk: 7.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1h :: 3 [Tallsun] HP: 60.5 | Buff: Novice
Mar
#5
Here comes the rub.

Ru jumped into the unknown. The move was rash and sudden, the pain made her breaths tighten and shallow against its brilliant appearance. But once her feet let loose of the dirt, there was hardly a way to control her path – she’d committed whole-heartedly into ramming herself against his body. To inflict something, anything to shake that residing smirk off her periphery.

Her gambit takes an unexpected turn. The opponent makes a deft pause in his motion, and her soaring spirit is rebuked to follow through with no purchase to bear. There is a hollow snap that rattles in her mouth, when there is no flesh to tear from the offending body. The stallion has risen ahead of her, while she crashes into depths unknown between the briny waves.

The frigid waters are ignored when she touches down. Stifling a cry instead, from the cut that has tangled with her muscles. Sending an electrifying reminder that causes Ru to stumble forwards into the waters. Her right fore is nearly impaired by the pain, and can’t take the weight of her body she’d sent moments ago into the air. She stands, just barely, as her hind legs catch the weight behind her. But she is kneeling on her right fore; her left – straining as she shifts her weight into her haunches.

The ebb of the waves is soothing, even if it comes with an additional burn on her submerged foreleg. Rocks, hidden beneath the sand have bruised the right foreleg along its lower front. The coolness aids itself, but not for long as she struggles to face her opponent head on.

You will never be ready, are her wicked thoughts.

Doe-eyed as she lifts herself to face the gilded stranger. By then he was already approaching her. With a grimace she eyes the stallion with a muted gaze. She has not swallowed defeat just yet, even as she propels herself only a few strides to greet his thrusting shoulder – the one brandished with bronze, to the cut that oozes and burns.

She grits her teeth. Intending to collide right shoulder to his left – thankfully the pain and the force are dispersed across a larger surface area. It gives her something else to think about, than the wicked stabbing that digs deep versus the initial smack of his shoulder. Adding a bruise to the bloody mural, smudged and rusting in the cool air.

Ru is not idle however. She ushers her forward motion, with his drive to aid her pivot and swing her rump around, so that she might swing nearly side by side with him. Looking to recoil and sheer away from the power that drives his legs. A test of strength she does no believe she can win.

Grasping the uneasy surface of sand, and water. While there are teeth that snap for the neck; it is hard not to avoid them when she makes to sidle herself beside him. Ru intends to peel away from him however from his left side, and as she does the teeth scrape along the fringes of white, soft feathers. Plucking them off with a sharp, bruising kiss. A protesting wing makes to strike with the edges of its wrist at his face, or eyes.

The mare darts sharply to the right then – and bears the pain in her shoulder to buck in the area of his left ribcage, or belly. Departing from his lunging form, and whipping her tail out from the unease in her movements; constantly reminded of the thorn’s breach into her shoulder. It adds a small limp to her movements. The water has thus, made her ankles numb as she exits the ocean – breath heavy, gaze scalding as his voice lilts effortlessly into the wind.

He echoes the doubts in her mind; they feed off his taunts like wicked vultures.

Just keep moving.

She shifts in the dry sands, simmering, frustrated. She is fumbling and he has yet to bear any mark from her. He has maneuvered the sands better than she, and his strength appears to be just out of her grasp.

There is a brief pause of inactivity from the mare; at least enough that hopefully allows some room between them.

But she cannot stop – she will not stop.

She picks up her feet once more, her voice merely rumbling forth in a gruff hum as her eyes pinned his slithering form. Despite her wounds, and the carelessness of the waves – they still fill her with a wanting determination. She approaches from the right at a canter, and stops suddenly to swoop her left wing down – intending to shower his gaze with that of sand and grit.

While she stands ajar. Her rump to the ocean and her head pointing to the forests.

[2/3]
Words: 799/800

Image Credits

Damage:
- Cut from mid shoulder - to above the elbow (superficial muscle - shallow skin tear)
- Bruised on lower right foreleg
- Bruising to neck and right shoulder

@Rikyn
Please Tag
Permision to use any violence/harm; nothing that would cause immediate death

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#6

Regardless of whatever hurts assault her, the tough bitch still pins her eyes on me as I come in for my third barrage, and even moves to meet me, so that we become a clamorous meshing of sinew to metallic alloys.  My skin is swiftly dusted in sea-spray that is cold in the late winter wind which howls and roars about us, but it’s a pleasant distraction, a much preferred sensation to the rough whumph! of my shoulder and hers meeting.

"Ouch!" I yelp with surprise, because the forgotten stone certainly does not forget to be hard as, well, a rock, and digs into my shoulder as the deranged bird and I plough into one another, leaving a very small, but stupidly painful for its size, bruise.  It steals away some of the usual pride I have in myself for scoring solid hits, to have squealed like a wounded filly.  As her body gives under the pressure of mine, I surge forward into the gap without thought as to how she might counter.

My teeth reach out as we become surging parallels, and grasp firmly some of her feathery mane, which are quite easily ripped away (like hair! I think to myself with surprise).  Sputtering to rid the horrible, fluffy and slick all at the same time objects from my mouth, I am swiftly buffeted across the face by her stiff, outer feathers as she jettisons her wings out; their tips and flat, soft sides skitter across my cheek, neck, and swiftly shuttered eyelids with an alien embrace.  Balking, literally forced to a stop by the stupendously wrong sensation of the feathers, I snort, and toss my head downwards, as if I could just, you know, throw the feeling off.

It doesn’t work.  It also does little to stop the swing of her haunches from sending her hooves into my metal plated shoulder at full velocity, either, again jabbing the rock into my skin, and bludgeoning the rest with a quick bitch slap from my own equipment.  The sound of her hooves rings though the air, bites through the wicked wail of the wind, and almost covers up the shout of pain that is projected from my lips.

Sure, it’s not as bad as a stab wound, but what the fuck?!  My left hoof comes off the earth without being asked to, and the double bruised muscles in my shoulder temporarily lock up, and throb with spasms.  The opponent keeps moving to the shore, and so I know I have to, too, but my leg won’t cooperate; snorting with frustration and pain both, I simply hop my first few steps, before the muscle’s revolt is ended, and I can limp my way through the rest of the battle.

Note to self:  Don’t battle with rocks in your armor…

I charge forward to meet her as she comes back around, and rushes my right side.  Pulling hard left as she seems to pull back on her speed (for what? I wonder, deciding to risk the maneuver I’d had in mind anyway), her barrage of sand and shells sprays wildly on the wind, and pelts small debris against my side and ass, my shoulder screams and nearly buckles underneath me as I tilt my weight forward, my own hind legs kicking out roughly, with toed-hooves tucked together, in the general direction of the pegasus mare’s right shoulder or flank.  Breathing a sigh of relief as the my hind hooves come back down, and can again help my poor shoulder out, I don’t hesitate before I move into phase B, eager to close the battle before another of my limbs is out of commission.  While the kick might miss, my magic never has yet, and I eagerly delve into my will to pull out my most reliable tool, wondering if she’s had a taste of the Spark magic yet.

Bundling the wicked ball of energy up inside myself, I mentally hurl it back at her, using Duir’s swift, mental image of the two of us (from where he stands nearby) to gauge just about where she is.  Of course, I can’t look through his eyes and use my magic at the same time, so she could decide to move at the last moment…

Regardless, I don’t hang out with my back turned to her for long.  I turn around as quickly as my lame shoulder will let me, the wind whipping my forelock wildly about my face; I angle my left shoulder away from her, not all that eager to have a bruise on top of a bruise, on top of a bruise, because I’ve never had one, and I’m not about to start today, but otherwise wait for her to come to me, my legs restlessly moving.  

3/3 | 796
[ OOC:  He uses his secondary magic here!
:: [ Magic: DarkxSpark | The ability to short circuit the electrical impulses of an opponent's brain, causing temporary loss of control over their physical responses. ]
:: [ Restrictions | Lasts 20 seconds in battle. ]



Art by Esa82@DA

@Ru

Wishlist - Plots

Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).

Ru Posts: 130
World's Edge Captain atk: 7.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1h :: 3 [Tallsun] HP: 60.5 | Buff: Novice
Mar
#7
The metal, it rings and buzzes to the fringes of Ru’s limbs as it hits. It’s not the damage she was looking for, but it sends an almost desperate charge into her system. The gilded stallion’s yelp is easily lost, to the ping – pang a clacking of a successful hit that feeds the lilting fire within her.

Grunting and gasping through the pain that – while it throbs – pricks and shudders with each ushered movement in her strides. In the twists and turns that eventually lead her from swinging a wing, to the loss of feathery hair. A growing, physical need groans for Ru to stop.

But I can’t – not when the slight high of pain goads her struggling spirit. Or perhaps it was simply a second wind that led her body with a permanent grimace. Whatever it was, it was beaming beyond the refuse of submission. It was set aglow in her eyes, hollow and hungry for success.

She is unable to catch Rikyn’s abysmal hops, when she means to put some distance between them. There is only the constant push of cool air that rolls off the ocean tops, the rage that crashes against the beach – a sound that carries a sense of carelessness that Ru bottles up for the final push. It comes with the furious sweep of her wing as it tucks beside her, and the charging stallion that heralds the last leg of their awful dance.

The mare coils her legs underneath, tucks her feathered tail close as she attempts to release and turn her rump to him when he begins to turn. Ru braces for the buck that scrapes across her right hindquarters, most likely sporting a bruise – but she bears the pain keeping in mind that the cut to her shoulder sings more loudly than the rest. And it can be tolerated, for the time being… underneath the gritting of teeth and the clenching of jaws.

Ru casts her eyes back to Rikyn. Grimacing as she takes the weight of her body in a means to buck back. An attack she doesn’t think twice about – it just feels ‘natural’ in that moment. To seize a quick opportunity before he might pull away. A muffled cry leaves her pressed lips as her hind legs kick out, aiming for Rikyn’s nearest flank. Hopefully he wouldn’t escape the range of her limbs just yet.

For a moment the fire in her soul wavers a second time. Especially as her shoulders and forelimbs take on the weight. Ru is reacquainted with a stabbing pain in her right shoulder, shaking in that brief moment. A gasp of relief washes over the feathered mare when her limbs return to the earth - unloading. It is a momentary, deceptive release that doesn’t necessarily bolster her confidence when the pain lessens.

Because it hurts regardless, all of it, her whole body aches.

The girl manages to breathe out. Expecting Rikyn to meet her once more in the fog of creeping fatigue, and turns to face leading with her left shoulder. Realizing now that he was favoring her battered right side. The feathered mare had every intention of charging ahead to meet him, every thought and fiber to deliver a final blow.

High intentions end poorly however. The magic is cast against her left side, seizes up her right fore – tickles and numbs the adjoining right hind leg. It adds to the stupid droop on her face – the right, as she intends to close the distance. Even if it means limping with a limb that nearly fumbles with the first stride.

Perhaps it’s asking too much, perhaps she’s standing against her limit – uncertain if she’ll make it through the other side. Merely in the terms of her known capabilities. That this was as good as she could get, without the careful ministrations of a mentor or teacher.

With one last hurrah, she rears up and kicks out with her left fore. Aiming for the dark stallion’s face.

A groan escapes her lips as she teeters briefly. But her hindquarters hold, and the sensation of numbness dissolves and moves up her right side when she lands. Confusion finally breaks through her thoughts, unawares of how these odd and new sensations have come about. She settles with a non-functioning right foreleg, and limps with her left side to face the stallion. Casting her gaze once more for his position, alleviated by the return of sensation that comes with the bitter cold of Frostfall, the weak twitching of muscle function.

Ru shifts her gaze back to the deer-like creature. Wondering what use it was standing there at the fringes. With heavy breath and sweat patching her winter fur into dark, resentful clumps.


[3/3]
Words: 787

Image Credits

@Rikyn    :: thanks so much for sparring with me! <3
Please Tag
Permision to use any violence/harm; nothing that would cause immediate death

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#8

I only manage give her a gentle love tap with my hind hooves, but I suppose it’s better than nothing; it seems to be even better when the unknown feather neck’s counter-kick simply breezes impotently past my fleshy ass somehow. This time, unlike the last, I don’t laugh, mostly because I’m still bummed about my kick being relatively lame, as far as my kicks go. However, even though my buck had delivered lack luster results, my magical attack striking home manages to deepen my feelings of success, and as I turn back about to face her, my left shoulder throbbing with unpleasant pangs and pulses, a smirk tilts across my cocoa lips.

I don’t think I’ll ever quite get over their faces, when the magic hits them, and the sight of hers makes a dark laugh burst from my lips.

Her attempts to meet me falter, the Spark’s power not grabbing her as fully as it has some of my other opponents, and she even musters onward, fighting against the magic’s hold as she pops her front half up off the ground, and kicks her grit coated, left hoof out towards me. Slamming on the breaks, I mimic her partial rear at the last moment, my battered shoulder pleased with the respite from gravity and my own body weight, though my mind roils with the worry that she’ll manage to strike my soft nose, and I don’t get to enjoy it as thoroughly as I might.

I can smell the salty earth on her hoof as it decimates the air an inch from my nose, the gust of atmospheric pressure its passing creates tousling my dark locks across my brow. Falling back rightwards, I propel myself in a small leap away from her, and to the right, my left leg tucked up as I come down a short bound’s distance from the peculiar pegasus. Stumbling as I land, but not quite falling, I gasp with pain when my left leg instinctually taps down to balance me, quickly picking it back up again. I’m quite glad my gambit has paid off as I regain my composure without toppling over, having not trusted my leg to hold my weight at all if I’d used it in the initial landing, because I’d be awfully embarrassed to fall down now.

Thankfully, it seems like she’s done, because when I turn back around, her eyes are watching me with more wariness than the stern, warrior’s glances she had been shooting me before. It’s all fine by me, I think, liking the idea of finish a fight in which, for once, neither party was liable to bleed out anytime soon. I don’t think anyone broke any bones, either!

Grinning, hoping she holds no malice against me for wailing on her for a while, I stop, nodding my head that way I was taught by my fellow soldiers, when one wished for a spar to cease. Holding my left fore quite gingerly, I call out over the croon of the wind, across the short few feet of beach which separates us.

"Good fight, yeah?" I say, looking at her shoulder, where my blade had pierced her skin, while my companion returns to my side, from his distant post. Though I don’t know her, or really care what she decides to do in regards to healing it, I can’t help but wonder what she plans on doing about it, or if she knows how to keep such wounds from getting infected, if she doesn’t mind the scars. Eager to know more of her, but wary, as usual, with my own identity, I introduce myself falsely, but with a decent enough amount of charm, words interspersed with deep breaths of excursion. "I’m Calor, and this is Ryn. Who are you?"

633 Words | Closing Defense
[ OOC: You too! We'll have to do it again sometime. :D ]



Art by Esa82@DA

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Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Blu
#9
20 HP gap. Rikyn earns 1 VP, Ru earns 1 EXP.
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode


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