the Rift


The 4th wall comes tumbling down

Shida Posts: 109
Deceased atk: 3.5 | def: 7 | dam: 6
Filly :: Unicorn :: 16 :: 3 (ages in Birdsong) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Princess :: Common Hellhound :: Hellfire Odd
#1

Shida
Delicate as FUCK
So here's a story all about how my life got fucked and turned upside-down, and I'd like to take a minute while you're sitting right there, to tell you all about how I died, so don't you go anywhere.

We all know the story. Boy meets girl. Boy is a drug addict. Girl bangs him anyways, girl gets twins, boy betrays girl and the herd they live in...it's the age old story and I"m right in the fucking centre of it. Me and Auri are, anyways. Only who the fuck nows where Auri is. Who the fuck knows where Da is. I know where Ma is but ... hell, I'm part of a life she doesn't lead anymore. I'm part of the old Elsa. The new Elsa has a bangin' body, sweet new magic and a hot new bf. I'm just her fat-ass kid. A write-off. The one you want to forget.

Well, maybe not. But it's a whole lot easier to think of myself that way. Self deprecation is my thing. Without out, I'm even more one-dimensional than I probably come across as. So this is the story of how I die. Read it, or don't. I don't care. I was meant to be more than this, but it just never panned out. The stars didn't align, and I remained third string for far too long. And now? Now it's time to cut that string and let me go.

"LETS FUCKING DO THIS." I yell, knowing that I'll be answered. That's the thing about this life. It's fairly fucked up living in your own personal Truman Show, but the one thing it has going for it, is that you're never kept waiting. Unless of course that makes the story more interesting. But in this case, it doesn't. And so I know she'll appear. I wait in the Meadow. Why here? I don't know. Maybe because it will be all dramatic when I inevitably blow something up and flowers go flying everywhere.

Princess is at my side. My baby blues fall onto him and I can feel sadness welling in my chest. Its welling in my writer's chest too, because she feels guilty about offing someone with a companion. People work their asses off for those, and having a grumpy-ass hellhound with a name like Princess was a really good call for me. Letting him - and me - go, feels like a waste. But I've been lingering. I know that. My obnoxious shtick just didn't cut it. I'm not witty enough like Ros is, I'm just ... I'm just loud, and I swear. It's funny for a bit, in small doses, but passed that? Passed that I'm not really much of anything.

We both sigh, the writer and me. I think we both thought this was going to be easier than its turning out to be.




Attack: 0/?
WC:
Setting: The Thistle Meadow.

Image Credits

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
#2

Isopia has never broken the fourth wall, and will not now, despite the fact that it would make things easier to explain.

But she does appear, as Shida somehow knew she would. The demi-goddess's golden eyes appraise the buckskin mare who stands confidently in the fields, surrounded by a rainbow swath of colour. Perhaps it is because she has so recently seen the look of death in the eyes of another - of Virgil, she'll never forget his name - that she recognizes it so easily upon Shida's exaggerated features. Isopia has seen this mare before, has heard the angry and obnoxious timbre of her voice, but she doesn't know her.

"What do we do?" She asks, looking to Hubris. The dragon is silent. Gently he twirls the moral compass given to Isopia by a tree, and holds it out to her. The needle spins and spins, landing nowhere. The colour it glows is an ambiguous gray. It offers no answers to the duo. "But what do you think?" She asks him, her eyes ignoring the spinning stone and focusing intently on his intelligent stare. The dragonling thinks for a moment, and his eyes turn to where the mare and her canine are standing. She is asking for death, he knows that much. And, based on Virgil's arguments in the past, he is hesitant to offer reasons to deny her. Even so, Shida is not demanding to be let into heaven. She is just ... done with this life.

Or perhaps it is life that is done with her.

>>Everything dies.<< Hubris counsels silently. He is not necessarily in favour of this, but he thinks that Isopia's mind is at least strong enough to endure what it is the dun is apparently asking for.  Isopia turns her attention to the dragon and nods, vaguely unsure if this is meant to be a supportive comment.

Isopia's eyes move to the dun. Alright then.

"Will you fight back?" Isopia calls across the field, eyeing Princess before setting her gaze on Shida. She assumes that Hubris likely won't be a part of this fight, and so she wants to know if she'll be fighting just one or both of them.

While waiting for an answer, Isopia begins to change. Her body expands and trembles. Scales morph out of her body, her tail hardens and extends as her draconic form seemingly explodes from her skin. The change takes a few seconds, and warily Isopia keeps her eyes trained on the buckskin ahead. Knowing that it is her turn, Isopia grabs at the earth beneath Shida, trying to heave it upwards into the dun's stomach.

WC: 437
Attack: 1/? 

isopia
the devil is not as black
as he is painted

Image Credits

Shida Posts: 109
Deceased atk: 3.5 | def: 7 | dam: 6
Filly :: Unicorn :: 16 :: 3 (ages in Birdsong) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Princess :: Common Hellhound :: Hellfire Odd
#3

Shida
Delicate as FUCK
Will I fight back. What a stupid ass question.

"No bitch," I say casually, flicking my tail, "I'm just gonna stand here and let you steam roll me like 'ol Reggie did. I want my last moments in this fucking made-up place to just be me getting pounded by you, over and over again." I narrow my eyes to show that my sarcasm shouldn't be mistaken for a serious suggestion. And then, because this broad looks a little bit thick, I quickly add, "Yeah. I'm gonna fight back. This shits gonna be glorious."

Isopia starts transforming into a fucking dragon, and I can't help but huff and think of that golden motherfucker who stole my body. Isn't anyone what they appear around here? I look at Princess and sigh. He whines slightly, tail tagging ever so slightly. We're on the same thread, he and I. If I go, so does he, and he knows it. That same weighty lump is in his chest too, that lump of, I don't think I want to die, but I ain't got a reason to live. Maybe if we'd both try'd harder, it wouldn't have come to this. If we'd been funnier and less obnoxious, if I'd gotten more magic so that perhaps I could be more than just one-sided. If I'd followed that lemon-drop to the Basin instead of wasting my life away in the Throat ... but none of those things happened, and so here we are. 

Stick a fork in us, cause we're just about done. 

While she's dragoning, the earth below us suddenly shoots up. It hits me right in the gut, and it feels like i'm having a kid all over again. Icy liquid feels like its sloshing around in my belly, and I open my mouth, planning on swearing and cursing Isopia, but nothing comes out. Not even air. My eyes search for Princess', almost pleadingly. I CAN'T FUCKING BREATHE I mentally wail in his direction, but I'm not really sure what it is I expect him to do.

For fucks sake

The dragon-bitch is probably going to come at us, and while I'm over here casually suffocating, Princess decides to act. With a snap and a growl, he summons his magic, causing hellfire to fall down from the skies. He aims towards the Isopia-coloured dragon, hoping to scald her and buy me some more time.

There's a good boy, I think to myself as I feel oxygen beginning to fill my lungs once again. And even though my lungs are filling, I am deflated: hollowed out by that dying's a bitch feeling once again.

"You ain't the only one who can fuck up the earth!" I think I am yelling this, but instead it comes out as a croak. Oh well. I explode a patch of earth, hopefully where Isopia is about to take her next step. 



Attack: 1/?
WC: 479
Setting: The Thistle Meadow.

Image Credits

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
#4

Isopia doesn't understand much of what Shida says. The sexual references go right over her head, and she has no idea who Reggie is. Still, it doesn't take a conversational genius to parse the mare's sarcastic tone. Even so, Isopia continues her transformation in silence, unsure of how to appropriately retort to anything that the mare has to say.

Isopia's first attack is successful. The buckskin mare appears sufficiently winded and wounded. While she is catching her breath however, her companion advances. Having never fought a hellhound before, Isopia is surprised to feel hot fire raining down upon her scaled body. She winces and quickly realizes that there's literally no where to go. Golden eyes wide, Isopia created a mound of earth above her body to protect herself from the assault, but the ridges of her spine are already tight with the heat from Princess' attacks. Pain radiated outwards and Isopia had to snap her draconian jaws together to keep from crying out in pain. Still, a snarl appeared on her lips and a grunt of pain managed to escape between her teeth.

On all fours, moving forward with her earth-shield covering her back, Isopia is suddenly stopped by the explosion of earth before her. Bits of dirt and dust clog her eyes and her airways, while stones and stocks smack against her neck and nose. The dragonness halts, trying to determine if the land around her will to continue to explode, without having to open her eyes.

The earth-shield she had created fell harmless against her back as her attention was pulled away from maintaining its shape. "Apparently." Isopia coughed in response, blinking her large snake-like eyes to try and get rid of all the grime inside of them. 

The skin on her back was still aching, feeling as though it was still literally on fire. She didn't think she could easily take to the skies, and yet she was concerned that the ground was going to rise up to meet her once again. Was this how her own opponents felt?  Isopia conjured a rock-shape out of the earth and thrust it towards Shida, aiming for her skull. She had done this with Virgil and had been more or less successful in reducing his life-force quite quikly because of it. Hopefully she would see the same effect here as well.

All the while, Isopia felt nothing. She did not feel the same sort of indecision that she had with Virgil. The feelings of longing and sadness and questions of morality did not sprout in her mind or her soul. Instead, she simply felt neutral to comply with the buckskin mare's request. Her life was her own, and although it would have been reasonable for Isopia to ask why the mare didn't just off herself herself, she did not. Isopia assumed it had something to do with what the mare had just said - that this fight was going to be glorious. Suicide just didn't have the same ring, when held up against the death at the hooves of a demi-god, she supposed.

Meanwhile, Hubris sat in the field creating a necklace for himself out of clover. Every now and then he would glance up to confirm that he was being left out of this nonsense, and then go back to gentle knotting the flowers together. 



WC: 555
Attack: 2/? 

isopia
the devil is not as black
as he is painted

Image Credits

Shida Posts: 109
Deceased atk: 3.5 | def: 7 | dam: 6
Filly :: Unicorn :: 16 :: 3 (ages in Birdsong) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Princess :: Common Hellhound :: Hellfire Odd
#5

Shida
Delicate as FUCK
Suddenly there's a rock clusterfuck heading right towards me. For a moment all I really do is stare. I get that I"m here to die, but something about just standing here and getting my ass kicked by this bitch in her gaudy-ass cloak seems wrong. So I shimmy to the side, and her rock-thing grazes my shoulder. It hurts, but tis only a flesh wound.  A bit of blood trickles out from small abrasions dappling the top layer of skin. It hurts like a bitch, the way that papercuts do, and although it isn't deep or bad, I still open my mouth to whine about it.

"NO THROWING ROCKS." I sneer, ears against my skull. "This isn't fucking elementary school. You're a grown-ass adult. "

Then, because I really am a one-trick pony (hence how I got myself into this guess-you're-gonna-die situation), I repeat my last attack. The great thing about explosions is that even if you know they're coming, you really don't.

I grin, flashing my baby blues and my bizarrely white teeth (you'd think a drug addict like me would have a fairly yellow set of chompers, but hells to the nah). I aim an explosion for the area that Isopia is currently standing on, but I reach for slightly deeper in the earth. I want it to roll and buckle and upset that bitch's balance and then shoot up all in her face. So fucking what if she's a dragon. Gravity effects us all. 

Princess meanwhile is eyeing the dragon sitting and picking flowers. He knows that I when I go, he'll go, and he doesn't want to be left out of this. He also knows that if he attacks the dragon, it'll probably just fly away. He doesn't mind too much though. Princess figures that if he sinks his teeth into the big bitch's shoulder (even if it is covered in scales), he'll find it way more satisfying than the boney smaller dragon.

So he sets his sights on her. Hoping that Isopia is dealing with gravity and the earth suddenly throwing up beneath her, Princess lunges. He wants to bite and tear at the flesh of her shoulder, not caring much for the damage he might take. At this point, that sort of thing doesn't matter to either of us, making us a dangerous combination.

I can already feel the saliva as it drips from his dark jowls. He wants this, and for his sake, I hope he gets it. I aim another explosion towards Isopia, hoping to keep her distracted so that Princess can get his pound of flesh - or more, if he can manage it. 

Another indescribable pang shoots through my body as my might wanders towards where this is all going. I deserve better than this, better writing than this. I used to be funny, but only when you know who was drunk. But now this is inevitable and you know who wants to get it over with, and because she (I mean you know who) won't shed a tear for me like with Gaucho, there's been no planning. No preparation. This is all made up on the spot, and I fucking deserve better. We both know it.

She just doesn't have it in her anymore.

And so I guess soon, I won't either. 



Attack: 2/?
WC: 551
Setting: The Thistle Meadow.

Image Credits

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
#6

Both of their attacks miss the massive dragon, and for the first time, Isopia feels a pang of sadness for the mare. She wanted glory, wanted her last moments on this earth to be something that someone would remember and talk about. This...well, this was a farce. Perhaps if Iso knew more about the mouthy buckskin mare before her, she would have drawn a different conclusion. That Shida was fucking up her own ending so badly was not terribly surprising given the mare's history. But Iso didn't know, and so instead of potentially rolling her eyes, or offering a mental don't look so surprised, she instead looked towards the hellhound, whose aim was badly off, and then back to the mare who had exploded the ground a few feet before the demi-goddess, causing harmless blades of grass to rain down around them.

"It doesn't have to end this way..." Isopia mumbled, but currently the unicorn was offering no indications that she planned on halting this crusade just because of some bad aim. 

If she was closer, that might give Shida a fighting chance...or at least, might give her the opportunity to do something. Most in Iso's place wouldn't willingly give their opponent any sort of advantage, but this wasn't the norm, now was it? And Isopia was barely hurt. She could easily outlast this mare, even if Shida wasn't running down her own death. 

Isopia had nothing to lose, and even though Shida was planning on dying, it seemed as though she did.

Ambling forward on her draconian limbs, Isopia aimed to shove her scaled shoulder against Shida's left. Although her body retained the same mass as a dragon, her curves were much bonier in this body, and she hoped that if nothing else, the sharp point of her shoulder would leave a good sized bruise on Shida's shoulder, if not shoving her completely aside. 

Hubris continued to watch the scene unfold with large, blue eyes. He'd dropped the flowers that he'd been holding and instead was swept away in the brief surge of sadness that he felt roll off of Isopia. It was so unlike her, but then again, this was so unlike her. Killing Virgil had been...an exception. He'd begged for his death and given well articulated reasons for it. But Shida? She didn't deserve this, and the more the dragonling watched, the more sure he was that this wasn't even really what she wanted. It was just what had been handed to her. Internally Hubris tried to decide if he would end up intervening, as he had with the stallion. Would he paralyze the mare and her canine, so that their last moments were not filled with pain? He didn't want them to suffer, but as it was now, something was holding him back. Sighing to himself, he continued to watch, wondering when it would all be over.




WC: 481
Attack: 3/? 

isopia
the devil is not as black
as he is painted

Image Credits

Shida Posts: 109
Deceased atk: 3.5 | def: 7 | dam: 6
Filly :: Unicorn :: 16 :: 3 (ages in Birdsong) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Princess :: Common Hellhound :: Hellfire Odd
#7

Shida
Delicate as FUCK
I want to scream, because this is all going to hell and I'm fucking pissed that it is.

Princess missed what was probably the biggest and easiest target, but whatever. I get it man. We're on a collision course with death, and so at this point, I guess none of it really matters anyway. But still, it stings. Princess's jaws snap on nothing, and the dragon-mare is a good 5 feet back from where the land has suddenly vomitted grass and dirt. She's fine, but we're fucking not, because this is one of the last chances we have to make our mark on the world, and we are fucking it up.

No, that isn't right. The writer is fucking it up. Maybe it isn't anyone's fault that our attacks are missing - I mean, we're fighting a fucking demi-god, so we shouldn't be that surprised - but everything else can certainly be blamed on the keyboard-typing motherfucker in the sky. I don't know how many times I can scream we deserve better, before it sinks in. In fact, by the time it does, we'll probably be gonzo. Our clocks are set to 10-to-midnight, and we've probably only got one or two more hits left in us. We're going to end up dead, making no one laugh. No QOTM, no COTM, no TOTM. We aren't even a fucking foot note, because other than winning a competition and getting a glass bong as a prize, we've never done anything noteworthy. We've always been third-string, and you know what? That's a shitty way to go. 

And look. Now she's charging at us. Isopia I mean, not the writer. Although I'd happily take that bitch on right about now. She fucking deserves a good magical ass-kicking.

I try to move, but given how little I've been doing with my life, it probably makes sense to assume that I'm not in any sort of shape, other than round. Still, I skirt my ass away, trying to pivot, but-

- ooohsdfohsd;fkaj;sldfjk;alskdjf;laksdjf;lkajsdf;lkjasdf

All I can think is that this bitch hasn't even broken a sweat, and here I am careening over the ground like it's ice. My legs are trying to keep me upright, but my muscles are screaming and I sorta just want to give in, because fuck it, I'm not even trying to win, so what's the point?

But I can feel Princess in my mind, whining and not wanting to go out this way. So I mentally nod while all the air leaves my lungs and my shoulder screams in terror and pain.

The hellhound lunges for Isopia again. He'll take any piece of her that he can get his jaws on. It'll probably be a wing, or her left shoulder, and as my body slowly comes to an agonizing stop, I pray that he succeeds. 

"


Attack: 3?
WC: 475
Setting: The Thistle Meadow.

Image Credits

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
#8

It's basically a home run from Isopia, and a swing and a miss from team loud and obnoxious.

Isopia should be glad - she doesn't need to leave this fight bruised and battered when she's only here to 'help' - but she isn't. Every failed attempt Shida and Princess make to gain some small amount of glory for the moments just before their death, is like a wound. So in a way, even their misses are successful. Or maybe that's just what Iso is trying to tell herself, so that she doesn't feel so terrible about completely annihilating this pair. Even Virgil put up a better show than this, and he was ancient and thought he was in purgatory.

"Tell me why." Isopia murmured, as her momentum carried her away from Shida and out of the reach of Princess' snapping jaws.

Her golden eyes, large and observant as always, fell upon the buckskin who looked nothing short of defeated. Isopia should have been on her guard - at this close range, surely Shida's explosions would reach her - but after the mare's two failed attempts to hit her, Isopia was irrationally lulled. This wasn't a fight. It was a slaughter, and it was easier to ask the mare questions than think of her as an actual opponent. 

"Just tell me why you're doing this. Why do you want this?" Isopia's cape caught the breeze and swirled around her shoulders. And then, although Isopia didn't want to think of Shida as an opponent, she still was one, the Mountain attacked again. Swinging her body around, the demi-goddess tried to use her long draconian tail to knock the mare's legs out from under her. If this was going to end, Isopia would likely have a far easier time ending it if Shida was on the ground.

Then again ... 

The Mountain winced, almost hoping in that brief second before her tail was near being in range, that Shida would rally. She wasn't here to be an executioner, but that's what this was turning into.  Her ears seemed to hear every single sound except for an answer from Shida, and it seemed like the whole world was suddenly full of snapping branches and birds chirping. Isopia tried to block them out, forcing her mind to hear whatever would come out of Shida's mouth.

She needed to know. It was the only thing that could make continuing this way okay.



WC: 401
Attack: 4/? 

isopia
the devil is not as black
as he is painted

Image Credits

Shida Posts: 109
Deceased atk: 3.5 | def: 7 | dam: 6
Filly :: Unicorn :: 16 :: 3 (ages in Birdsong) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Princess :: Common Hellhound :: Hellfire Odd
#9

Shida
Delicate as FUCK
You know, even though this has been written like absolute shit and I am not nearly as funny or witty as I once was, I at least thought that the string-pulling puppet-master in the sky would have the fucking decency to hurry this the fuck up. Do you know that she's already started threads that occur after my death? Yeah. She's already that fucking over it, that I am not even cold in the ground and she's already moved on.  Brah-fucking-vo you heartless cunt.

Don't even get me started on the fact that this shit almost defaulted. Oh, life is busy? Boohoo. Without you I don't even have a life. I don't exist away from your mechanical keyboard (you pretentious fuck). 3 weeks. How could you have been busy for 3 weeks?!

Not worth it. This grave is already dug, now I just need to fucking lay down in it. There's no remorse on her part anymore, just indigestion because of all the coffee she drank this morning.

Fucking whatever.

So this Mountain asks me why I'm doing this, but before I can answer, she's swinging her ass towards me. I'm not a super experienced fighter at the best of times, and my injuries prevent me from scuttling fully out of the way. I manage to ungracefully get my front legs over her tail, jumping in place, but my fat ass prevents my hind-legs from clearing, and suddenly i'm stumbling. I feel pain in my forelegs as all of my weight is thrust forward. My legs stutter to keep my balance, but I feel something twinge in my front right. I would say it will be sore tomorrow, but of course there won't be a tomorrow. 

Still, I grin like the fucking maniac I am as I look at her.

"Cause life is done with me." I spit, my voice almost a growl despite the fact that I feel like laughing. "You're a fucking demi-god so life will never be done with you." I sneer, meaning bitch in the sky every time I say life"Don't feel bad." I continue, eyes narrowing as I aim another explosion beneath her body. I can feel my energy sapping, but fuck it. "It's just words on a page."

Magic leaves my body, but so does my will to continue this charade. I briefly wonder what the bitch would do if I just ... stopped fighting. I guess she could kill me off still, but she wouldn't get those precious points, now would she? That would serve her right. You can't just fucking kill characters off as an easy way to get a higher number of the VP page. Although jokes on me, because she can. She is. All I can do is hope that one day, when she looks at her roster of characters prettier than me, that she realizes she no longer has an outlet for this obnoxious style of writing. She'll just have to sit on it, hide it away. Because she had her chance to make me something, and she decided to let me die instead.




Attack: 4
WC: 515
Setting: The Thistle Meadow.

Image Credits

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
#10

Isopia could feel her mind metaphorically tensing as Shida opened her lips to respond. If the mare's past retorts were any indication of what was to come, Isopia couldn't help but feel slightly nauseous in anticipation. She needed Shida to have a good reason to want to die. This needed to be more than just some poorly thought out grab for attention. It was her life after all, and even if Shida was done with it, the stain of that snuffed-out-flame would forever be a scar on Isopia's soul.

It had to mean something.

Didn't it?

Isopia had been ready for a stream of expletives and obnoxious comments. What she hadn't been ready for were the words that in fact left the dun's mouth. They sounded weighty with meaning, pregnant with an idea that Isopia couldn't comprehend. The way Shida said that life was done with her, sounded more like there was an actual objective thing called life, that had made the choice to do away with her, rather than the standard metaphorical meaning. And just words on a page? Why did that sound as if it meant something? Another mind suddenly crowded into Isopia's own; Babel was now interested in the conversation. She could feel his black eyes growing round and fixating on Shida, a voracious interest suddenly bubbling inside of him. She knows something you don't, he thinks, Hubris interpreted for his smaller sibling. Isopia flickered an ear in their direction, wondering what they could possibly mean, when the earth suddenly exploded beneath her once again.

Debris and other bits of organic matter ruptured from beneath Isopia. Rocks and dirt struck the underside of her leathery, draconic body, causing the wind to spill out of her slightly agape jaws. Immediately her teeth snapped together, trying to hold in the howl of pain that had ignited in the back of her throat. It pressed outwards, pushing her tongue down and making her salivate, but still Isopia kept her jaws shut. She would contain her emotions, even if she couldn't contain or understand what was happening around her.

Dull and circular imprints of pain bloomed on her belly where the earth had erupted to meet her. Staggering backwards off of the ruined ground, Isopia's sharp golden eyes sought out Shida, wanting to pause this murderous fight and learn whatever it was the mare was talking about.

"It seems like you're done with it. It can't be done with you. You're the one doing this." She began, her voice awkward and not s academically confident as it normally was.

Reaching at the ground beneath Shida, Isopia tried to mimic the mare's attack. Although the couldn't make the ground explode, she could cause rocky formations to jut out from inside of it, and that was almost the same thing. Isopia's intent was to have a spire of rock hit Shida's belly, just as Shida's attack had done to her. Enough to wind her and possibly immobilize her, but not kill her. Not yet. Isopia wanted to know more.

Needed to know it. 



WC: 510
Attack: 5/? 

isopia
the devil is not as black
as he is painted

Image Credits

Shida Posts: 109
Deceased atk: 3.5 | def: 7 | dam: 6
Filly :: Unicorn :: 16 :: 3 (ages in Birdsong) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Princess :: Common Hellhound :: Hellfire Odd
#11

Shida
Delicate as FUCK

The fact that this farse is still going on, quite frankly, is unbelievable. Big type-writer bitch in the sky doesn't even have the decency to kill me off quickly. Oh no, life has to come first; but let's be clear. It's her life, not mine. Mine just gets shoved to the bottom of her to-do list, below cleaning the floors, I might add. Which is just fucking insulting.

Hear that? FUCK YOU.

I hope this defaults. I hope this defaults and you get fucking nothing. In fact, I hope this defaults, I request partial judging and win. Can you imagine? But I couldn't do that to the team. No one event wants to read this garbage for fun, much less because they're obligated to. So I'll just die. It should only take another roll, after all.

"You don't know as much as you think you do." I spit, feeling nauseous and woozy and wishing that I had decided to let Reginald fuck me to death rather than go out this way. Could I pause this for one last bong hit? Fuck, why wasn't I high for this? "Life can be done with me, because I don't control it. I am controlled. That's the kicker, Little Red Riding Hood." Princess whines uneasily, catching snippets of the wolf metaphor running around in my brain.

I look towards him, wanting to say something about being sorry that this was happening to us, when the ground below us suddenly bucked and heaved. I stumble, because fucking of course I did, legs bending in all the wrong directions. I can feel my knees locking and then being thrust forward, joints collapsing and my balance completely going tits up. I hit the ground, but it doesn't hurt that much. It's that reflex that drunks and kids have, you know the one. Where you go all limp and so you don't actually hurt yourself as bad as you ought to. Comically, I just keel the fuck over, then I'm sorry I wanted to say to Princess still on my slightly open lips.

I can feel the queasy feeling of sadness mixed with inevitability radiating down from old sky bitch as she types. "Fuck you," I warble, spitting a stream of blood. Apparently I'd bitten my lip. Her sadness fades as typos are slowly corrected, and I want to scream that she isn't doing enough. This isn't written well enough and that I fucking deserve more. But we both know it's no use. We both know I"m right, and most importantly, we both know that doesn't change things.

"YOU DON'T GET TO BE SORRY." I scream at the sky, my head lolling upwards for a second, my baby blue stare drunkenly glaring at the clouds, before falling onto Isopia.

"Fuck you for being more important. You're boring now." My words come out as a slur. Do I have internal bleeding by now? I can't tell. It's hard to think straight. "Half these bitches don't even like you. Don't kid yourself by saying they're jealous. You're just a cunt who thinks she isn't a trope." I spit again and think about getting to my feet. That seems like a lot of effort, but hell, it isn't like I need to save my energy for something. Heaving myself up, I glower towards Isopia. "Fuck you, fuck your cape, and fuck your 2 VP." I spit, as I try to send an explosion rocketing not into the ground, but fucking into her. I've never tested this out before, but no fucking time like the present. 

Maybe I'll get a critical and go out with a laugh.



Attack: 5
WC: 605
Setting: The Thistle Meadow.

Image Credits

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
#12


It was like Shida was speaking in a language that Isopia understood, but was hearing from behind a wall, or muffled by the ocean. The words...they were ones that she knew the meanings of, and yet the way the buckskin strung them together bordered on the incomprehensible. But only just. Snippets seemed to make sense, but a part from that, it was jibberish.

And that made Isopia angry. It wasn't the type of anger she had felt towards Volterra, but a type that burned cold deep within her bones. How dare this mare accuse her of knowing less than she ought, less than her monicker dictated, and yet fail to be able to adequately explain how or why or what it was she was meant to know? What did two veepee mean? What was a trope, in this context?

Was it possible that this mare knew something profound that Isopia didn't? Or was this merely the ramblings of a mare on the verge of death? For a moment Isopia was stupefied into a state where she couldn't decide what to do. Should she prolong Shida's death? Such would be selfish but ... but if there really was something so utterly beyond Isopia's grasp that she didn't know, surely Shida would be willing to share? In her mind she could feel both Hubris and Babel prickle, but for entirely different reasons. Hubris was keen on ending Shida's suffering and desperately for Isopia to do what she had promised the mare that she would, even if that meant abandoning in her own quest for knowledge. Babel on the other hand, just wanted the mare to be dead. He wanted to see what death was like on a larger scale. He'd seen Hubris kill things for his own benefit and had even tried killing his food himself. But to see a creature so like his own bonded die? That was something he was looking forward to.

Isopia watched as Shida focused her energy on her and expected the ground beneath her to quell and surge once again. But nothing happened. A few feet away the grasses harmlessly ruffled as if a large puff of air had exploded around them, but other than that, Isopia was unharmed. The mare was clearly close to death.

"I don't understand you." Isopia offered, sounding both sad and frustrated despite the fact that her voice was soft and monotone. Her mind flit back and forth between whether or not Shida was mad, or prophetic. Did her words have actual content? Or did they just seem as if they should, because they were in a language Isopia understood, and ordered in a way that seemed rational? But if this mare was dying, what was the point in putting int he effort to string together nonsense in a way that sounded real? An academic tug scorched Isopia's mind, because she knew that she would never find out.

As she had in her encounter with Virgil, Isopia looked to Hubris, silently asking for his help. Reluctantly but obediently, the bronze dragon lifted himself off of the ground and glided towards Shida. He kept himself high enough that he was out of Princess's range (or so he hoped), and circled slowly. With a regretful trill, he opened his jaws and aimed a beam of electricity towards the dying buckskin, hoping to make her last moments ones that she could not feel.

Greedily, Babel edged forward, wary of Princess but wanting a closer look. He was jealous that he was not old enough to possess abilities like Hubris did. His own jaws opened and closed, as if mimicking the electric blast that his older brother had released. Closing his teeth together, he hungrily promised himself that one day he would enjoy the luxury of killing something as Hubris had.



WC: 635
Attack: 6

isopia
the devil is not as black
as he is painted

Image Credits

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Blu
#13
Isopia has killed Shida. 1 VP to Isopia +2 VP for 0 HP killing.
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode


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