the Rift


[JUDGED] LIGHTS OUT - Sacre v. Toulouse

Toulouse Posts: 146
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 8.0 | def: 11.0 | dam: 4.0
Gelding :: Equine :: 17hh :: Six HP: 74 | Buff: ENDURE
Boomslang :: Green Ratsnake :: Paralyze Neverrmind
#1

'   and i am not the same   '





Nocturnal and stained in moonlight - that was how most came to find Toulouse. The hum on the spritely birdsong air filled him with an agitated, urgent kind of life, thus for this evening he only wished one thing; for some blood and sweat, some glory and gore.
The master spy now dwelled upon a lake shore clothed in gold leaf and night silks. Perhaps it was his enchanted armour that summoned such a bravado; a placebo. The bullwhip, which after all this time still served him faithfully was slung across his withers, the wolf’s teeth strung to it’s lash still littered in the blood of Tae.
Boomslang coiled impatiently around his friend’s horns, his own emotions feeding through that of his master’s. The snake grew fierce and hissed into the night at any who dare approach.

Yet in all his chaos there was calculation. The spy still had but one motive and desire, one reason to hide himself away under the finest armour on such a brumous night. His skin still twitched with agitation, his heels keeling for sport.
Boomslang coiled impatiently around his friend’s horns, beady eyes gazing across the lake in search of a worthy opponent.
It was a dark hour, exactly midnight when he made his bellow of a call throughout the woodland. Toulouse had given a great stomp of his hoof and let a roaring nicker release from his throat; a challenge to any worthy stag or battle born mistress near by.

But alas. Time ticked by and no opponents were seen among the fog.
From the lakeside he ran; into the forest the two serpents would slither in search of one to spar.

It was as he cantered between each pine, his hooves dancing over roots and lapping at the sea of fog that he spotted a fine opponent. Perhaps this gent was looking to heed his challenge?
Through the choking fog and glaring light of the full moon he recognised him to be Sacre. He was another council member, a herd-brother; one he had bumped into once or twice, tough never considered that the physician might be any good at combat.

“Herd-brother” Toulouse bellowed through the night, forgetting momentarily that his armour provided him with superior camouflage (and also weightless protection). He moved closer, allowing his diaphanous figure to be seen by the doctor amongst the moonlight before he spoke once again. “How would you fancy a little…” The gelding trailed off, pupils curling backwards to glance back at Boomslang with a sly smile “…sport?”

It was without another word and hardly another gesture that the palomino lunged forward, crown dipped low to the same level as his knees. Those pale hooves crawled and dug each step, eating up the ground as he attempted to charge like a bull towards the blood-stained stag.
In a great attempt to ram Sacre against one of the hundreds of trees in that moonlit forest, Toulouse manoeuvred himself so that his horns might just hook under the doctor’s flank. In the hopes that the propulsion and speed of his approach would push Sacre into a pine’s trunk, Toulouse began his assault.


@Sacre
attack No. 1/3
526 words

Setting; The woods where the thistle meadow meet the world's edge. It is a very cold night with mist that covers the ground! Visibility is adequate but not perfect, and you will not be able to see the ground! (covered in mist) Also obviously bc. it's a forest they are surrounded by a bajillion TREES so look out for that.

Summary; Toulou gives a hoot looking for someone to fight him, no one comes (rip) so he goes looking for a fight and sees lil sacre and so says fight me. attempts to ram him by running with his head bowed and horns at the ready!

Damage; none yet

art: © x coding: © x
I AM THE KEY TO THE LOCK IN YOUR HOUSE—
DO NOT CRY OUT OR HIT THE ALARM
YOU KNOW WE'RE FRIEND TIL WE DIE—

EITHER WAY YOU TURN, I'LL BE THERE
OPEN UP YOUR SKULL, I'LL BE THERE
CLIMBING UP THE WALLS

SO LOCK THE KIDS UP SAFE TONIGHT
CLOSE THE EYES IN THE CUPBOARD

Sacre Posts: 274
World's Edge Emissary atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 5 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Inari :: Red Fox :: Heal & Ríona :: Common Kitsune :: Electric imi
#2

Sacre was, in most aspects, a ‘non-combatant’. He had never seen the point in violence until Mauja had pointed out to him that violence was sometimes, in times of strife and dire need, a necessary evil. He could still hear the older unicorns’ words echo around his mind. Still, even if it was an evil that one might need now and then, Sacre was never going to be able to utilize it if he never practised the harsh art. Yet, he had put it off, convincing himself that being a Doctor to his herd was far more important, which it was, but even now he was becoming painfully aware of his deficiencies. Even his father, despite being the poisonous healer he was, had been a fighter, becoming a General during his final days in Helovia. Perhaps it was that Sacre thought, by opening himself up to the joy that could be found in battle and blood, he would also open up another part of himself that he didn’t want to know. Yet still, the Frozen Lights' advice niggled at him and he was thinking about it the day Toulouse challenged him, under a cold night sky in the misty Worlds Edge.

He couldn’t actually see the Specter at first, only hear him, between the trees and the darkness above, though the Doctor recognised his voice all the same. Toulouse. He knew very little about Toulouse, they had only met on the odd occasion here and there, but remembered him as the pale horned stallion, who was much taller than Sacre, but not quite as bulky as Mauja had been—his last challenger. It was only when the spy moved into the light of the moon that the fox-boy caught the glimmer of his armoured body and the healers’ eyes widened with a sharp jolt of surprise. He wanted to fight? Now? Sacre swallowed nervously, fear threatening to engulf him as it formed a tight knot in his chest and all his doubts, his insecurities, reared their ugly heads in his mind. What if Mauja was wrong? What if this was an evil he couldn’t master? Maybe he would lose himself, like d’Artagnan had lost his mind.

However, Sacre wasn’t given all that long to think about it and soon Toulouse was lunging into battle, his armoured body nearly impossible for him to decipher in the dark woodland until he was almost on top of him. The healer gave out a startled cry and tried to shy away instinctively, but he was much too slow in the heat of the moment as he threw himself sideways, banging his hind end into an innocent tree whilst the Specters’ horn caught on the edge of his flank drawing a bloody line into his left thigh. The adrenaline filled seconds ticked by and for the briefest of moments Sacre felt nothing but an odd and frightening exhilaration, thinking he had somehow made a lucky escape, but then the pain flowered through him and Sacres’ brilliant blue eyes contorted into a wince. Somewhere, in the back of his flustered mind, there was the concern of two foxes, who were watching from further in the distance where the healer told them to remain. For some reason, he felt like this was a fight he should do on his own.

Now hampered by a bruised backside and a cut that would surely scar if left unattended, Sacre kept up a brisk trot, weaving carefully around the trees and frowning as he tried to make out his opponent, which wasn’t proving easy. He thought of how he saw him earlier in the glittering light of the moon and an idea came to him, though he was unsure whether it would work, he braced himself to try it anyway. Casting a nervous glance towards where he had last seen Toulouse, ramming Sacre into a tree, still he winced as he moved, the fox-boy grasped for a new magic that had, up until now, lived untouched within him. Yet, Sacre summoned three electrical foxes, not with the intention to harm the spy (though they surely would if he touched them), but rather to light up the woodland a little so Sacre might catch a better glance of his challenger and maybe even attract his gaze. Thinking he had spotted the rather daunting Specter, the fox-boy sprang forwards and bared down his crimson horn, aiming for a slice of Toulouses’ right thigh.


1/3 | 740 words | @Toulouse

Summary: Sacre is taken by surprise and injures his flank/thigh trying to flee, also bangs into a tree as he does so. He then tries to make Toulouse easier to see in the dark to see by summoning 3 small electric foxes to brighten the surroundings (although if Toulou touches them they will hurt aha) and maybe distract him before attempting to attack Toulouse with his horn.

Damage: Cut on his flank into his thigh area (left), some slight bruising on his general backside (right) 

Magic Use:  [ Magic: EarthxSpark | Can summon foxes made of electricity that shock on impact. ] [ Restrictions | Can summon 1 large or 3 small; lasts one post in battle. ]
Fox Boy

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There's something wretched about this
Something so precious about this

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Toulouse Posts: 146
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 8.0 | def: 11.0 | dam: 4.0
Gelding :: Equine :: 17hh :: Six HP: 74 | Buff: ENDURE
Boomslang :: Green Ratsnake :: Paralyze Neverrmind
#3

'   and i am not the same   '





The rip and slash that came from the bystanding tree trunk as well as the lance upon his own skull caused Toulouse to murmur a faint grunt, his teeth gritting together and nostrils flaring in time with his foot falls. Perhaps it was exhilaration and the thrill of winning the first strike that caused the ever-so-slight release of tension from within the specter’s skull, the exhale he had held back upon aim and impact now free from his lungs.
Levelling his shoulders and reaching down upon his right hoof, the gelding tried his utmost to balance out his front quarters - for a creature as tall and top-heavy as he, balance in all four corners was imperative. It was then as his hooves took him directly beside his opponent that the two oceans within his skull peered closely over at the fox boy, observing how he winced and wavered away from the tree; a rather unsuspecting assailant.

Already Toulouse felt the thrill of the chase, the kick of adrenaline that came with the hunt. All manner of carnivores knew what it was to snap at the heels of prey, and that the smell of the quarry’s blood was no greater hallow.
Dagger-like feet protruding through the sheet of mist, the predator continued his assault but not before anticipating a defence from the frightened fox.

The sleuth’s head remained high in anticipation of a kick, his gem-like eyelashes fluttering back and forth over his squinting eyes in a great effort to protect them from flying mud and pine needles. Boomslang hid his face to the off side of Toulouse’s jowl in his own efforts to protect himself from the debris and the growing threat of retaliation on Sacre’s part though still the little snake continued to coil and wrap his way around the highest horn upon his pale friend’s head in anticipation for another attack.

But then they appeared.
Three silver foxes danced from behind the tree responsible for the nasty gash upon the doctor’s side, and within only a few moment’s they had arrived to light up the surroundings. Toulouse had fallen for this trick once before and suffered greatly at the hands of Tae and her conjuring tricks, so it was with an echoing roar that the gelding ducked underneath the diaphanous, star-born beings and stood in wait for Sacres oncoming attack.

He had expected nothing else; the same game had been played on him only recently. With a great snort and a stomp, the gelding twisted his hocks right underneath him, allowing the charging doctor to stride straight past him.
“Oh, Sacre…” The gelding snorted in a somewhat scolding fashion, a grin curving his lips upward.

It was as if with this misjudged move, the entire pace had changed. Toulouse no longer ran furiously in an attempt to intimidate and keep up, for now, he stood still as the night and glaring down at the Moon Doctor.
His steps were long, yet slow as he made his calculated approach. Boomslang had begun to uncoil, his head sprung upright to attention. Their bond grew tense, and within a matter of seconds, Toulouse could feel the fury radiating from the green snake just waiting to strike.
“you have been patient Boomslang” The spy whispered lovingly to the reptile, allowing the snake to slip further down his crown and reach out towards Sacre, aiming with all the precision a young snake could muster.
The pale one’s pace quickened, attempting to catch up to the blood-stained doctor so his slithering comrade could take his turn at an attack.

Upon reaching their opponent, Boomslang gave a great hiss as his jaws unfolded, his fangs extending as he reached for the fleshy part of the splashed man’s rump in an attempt to paralyse him thought his wicked bite and the blessing of his magic.
It was then that Toulouse made his move, a filthy grin spread far across his face. In the hopes that Boomslang’s magic had taken effect and that their prey was now grounded, Toulouse aimed a crushing blow to Sacre’s back left hock in an attempt to shatter what remained below his sooty skin.
Though there was no halloo nor halalli, the hunter still pursued, though he would regret the moment the hunter became the hunted.


@Sacre
attack No. 2/3
721 words

Summary; Toulouse chases after Sacre and dodged his hit, he then allows boomslang to use his paralyse magic and bite sacre, and then continues to stomp down upon sacres back-left hock when/if he falls down from paralysis.

Damage; none yet

art: © x coding: © x
I AM THE KEY TO THE LOCK IN YOUR HOUSE—
DO NOT CRY OUT OR HIT THE ALARM
YOU KNOW WE'RE FRIEND TIL WE DIE—

EITHER WAY YOU TURN, I'LL BE THERE
OPEN UP YOUR SKULL, I'LL BE THERE
CLIMBING UP THE WALLS

SO LOCK THE KIDS UP SAFE TONIGHT
CLOSE THE EYES IN THE CUPBOARD

Sacre Posts: 274
World's Edge Emissary atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 5 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Inari :: Red Fox :: Heal & Ríona :: Common Kitsune :: Electric imi
#4
Sacre really should’ve learnt by now that taking pride in something before it had even happened was not always a good idea. Hope kindled in his brilliant blue eyes as they lit up in a surge of triumph at what he thought was his own cleverness, soon to be his stupidity that is, when his ill thought out plan backfired so spectacularly. He watched, the seconds feeling like entire minutes, as Toulouse dodged his sparkling trio of foxes he had so delightfully conjured, thinking that it was his route to an upper hand, rather than a rocky slope to his downfall. Alas, it was indeed a great downfall in disguise. Sacre had not the experience either to think of a backup plan should his first idea fail and so he hurtled, like a child with a toy sword, at the disgustingly snorting Spectre, who simply stepped out of his way as if he was nothing but a nuisance. His opponents chiding did little to ease his annoyance as he slammed his cloven feet into the ground, making small ditches in the undergrowth as he skidded to a halt, heaving in a shocked and shaky breath. This evening not exactly being the peaceful one he had planned was a large understatement. Which was further proven by the now approaching Spectre, his calculated steps pounding ever closer as Sacre’s mind scrambled for any shred of an idea that wasn’t simply running away, his feet slipping in the mud dents he had just created earlier until Toulouse was upon him with the snap of a snake bite.

The Doctor’s skin prickled with revulsion as the reptile’s jaw suddenly sprung out hideously and his heart leapt in horror, spurring him quickly forwards into a fearful run, but not quick enough that he dodged the deadly fangs that sought his retreating hind. They sank sickeningly into his flesh sending a harsh sensation through his limbs, forcing his pace back into a slow walk before he sank towards the ground, managing to lean his side into one of the trees in the dark forest, propping up his almost lifeless seeming body. The fox-boy’s eyes however, stared at Toulouse with a wild kind of horror as he tried to fathom out if, in the past, he had ever slighted the spy. Even if this was a spar between two herd mates, fighting to improve their skills (or lack of, in Sacre’s case), wasn’t he going a bit too far? Yet, the pale unicorn didn’t seem to look upon him with any kind of hatred, more rather, with a vulgar amusement.

This alone was enough to send another shuddering fright through his body as he looked up at the spy with dread in his face—he couldn’t even grasp why Toulouse might possibly find this enjoyable. The seconds ticked, the paralysis didn’t last very long, but in battle terms it was long enough that Sacre hadn’t gained enough mobility back to completely move his naked hock from the onslaught of his viscous opponent. He winced at his grogginess as he helplessly struggled to move his leg, raising it slightly off the ground with effort, enough that it wasn’t crushed into dust, but not quite enough to miss another wave of pain that pulsed from his now bruised hock as Toulouse came into contact with him. For a moment, all Sacre could feel was the consistent throbbing of pain pulsing from his body that had been battered and wounded, his backside being the worst of all the areas, considering it was bruised, cut and bitten. At least he still had his bones intact… so far.

However, the moment for wallowing over his new injuries would have to come after, lest he add to the stellar collection, and he grimaced, setting his lips into a grim line, letting the discomfort he felt fuel his anger. He hoped Toulouse was still nearby, in his desire to crush the gentle Doctor’s hock perhaps he had left himself open, after his last attempt to attack Sacre wasn’t sure if this was a good idea either, but his situation had rapidly become worse. As the paralysis slipped away and the use of his body gradually returned, Sacre swung his head in an angered slice, trying to find a gap in the spy’s armour where his horn might cut across his skin and wound him enough for the Doctor to have a moment to heave himself back up, rather than slumped on a tree. 

With his striking blue eyes glazed with pain and anger, he awkwardly bounded forwards, hampered by his hock, as he tried to barge into the shoulder of Toulouse in an attempt to knock him off balance and give himself some room to manoeuvre.


2/3 | 791 words

Summary: Sacre is silly and thinks he has the upper hand, is caught off guard and paralysed by the snake as he tries to run, eventually slumping into a tree. He manages to move his hock enough that it isn't smashed to smithereens, but bruises it before trying to slice Toulouse with his horn again and attempting to barge into his shoulder, hoping to knock him off balance.

Damage: Cut on his flank into his thigh area (left), some slight bruising on his general backside (right), a small bite on his rump and a bruised hock.

Magic Use:  None.

Fox Boy

image credits


There's something wretched about this
Something so precious about this

❚ Force permitted!
❚ Please tag me!

Toulouse Posts: 146
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 8.0 | def: 11.0 | dam: 4.0
Gelding :: Equine :: 17hh :: Six HP: 74 | Buff: ENDURE
Boomslang :: Green Ratsnake :: Paralyze Neverrmind
#5

'   and i am not the same   '





You would never hear the serpent admit to how dishonourable it was to strike a defenceless opponent, especially one who had been almost completely paralysed by his comrades vicious venom. Perhaps he would excuse it by declaring it pay-back for Sacre’s own magic trick, one which unfortunately for the coal-coloured doctor, had not played out well for him.
His forelock and hefty, long pieces of mane paraded like a bright but colourless flag over his ears, hooding his face as he proceeded with his planned attack to his opponent’s offside hock.
THWACK!
The sound of crashing bones was fairly sickening, and even though the carnivore was somewhat desensitised to it, it still made his teeth grit and his ears flatten against his sweaty upper neck.

While the physician recovered from his temporary paralysis, Toulouse saw his chance and took it. Through a gap in the trees he leapt, reaching with his two front hooves over a low-laying shrub and soaring over the obstacle in an attempt to disappear once again. Though, the serpent upon Toulouse’s horn gave a sharp hiss towards the fox-boy when he noticed his horn swing after them. The blood-coloured blade upon the doctors skull managed to nick a small slice out of Toulouse’s offside thigh upon his escape over the shrub, leaving him limping for a short few strides upon landing.

An agitated growl escaped his throat, though he dare not stop to survey the damage. The climax of the fight was near, and if he was to secure his place as victor he knew he was not to tarry no matter how much the pain would slow him.
Going only by the pain that radiated outwards from his buttock and the blood that trailed down his leg, Toulouse could only assume there now lay a bright and nasty gash worthy of a scar. While it didn’t restrict his movement, it’s heat and sting could be felt radiating well over his right thigh.

Still, through the trees he pressed on, only now he remained disoriented and unaware to his opponent’s location. Fearful that the moon doctor was at his tail, the camouflaged beast continued through the mist-filled forest until he could distinguish his own hoofbeats from those of his opponent somewhere near-by.
Stopping to survey the moonlit landscape and the whereabouts of his opponent, Toulouse arrived in a small grove with his heels and hooves digging ferociously into the damp earth below. A snort erupted from his nares, one which he tried to contain to maintain his camouflage, though by now it’s moon-given powers were all but fading.

It was as he began to inhale and take his next step forward that his partner came forth, and all in the blink of an eye he was struck in the shoulder. While it wasn’t a truly deft blow, nor one that sent him flying, it was a blow that caused him to stagger and grunt out of harm’s way. The area throbbed momentarily, though really the stag had done him no great injury, and it was probable that the doctor had sustained more himself.

As the stallion of sanguine splashes and rosy blades darted past, Toulouse’s front pair of hooves raised for what he hoped would be his final attack. While his back end throbbed, it was a pain that was quite bearable compared to the kind he wished to inflict on his opponent.
Rearing up, the gelding attempted to lash out his two front hooves in the direction of Sacre’s near side hip, only to land shortly after and proceed to step after him with his fanged jaws at the ready.
Snapping like a wolf, the pale one continued his assault by attempting to focus his sights upon the whither and spine of his opponent; the rod on which all his limbs were attached. With a growl springing from his lungs Toulouse lunged forward, hooves lapping up the ground as he aimed his fangs for the stained doctors whither, attempting to clamp his incisors either side of the pointy bone.



@Sacre
attack No. 3/3
684 words

Summary; Toulouse tries to leap away from sacre over some shrubs but is cut by his horn; he then runs through the forest and loses track of sacre. Is then plunged into by sacre, and then proceeds to rear up at him and attempt to strike his hip - then he chases after him again and tries to bite his whither!

Damage; - A nasty cut to his offside thigh
- small bruising on offside shoulder

art: © x coding: © x
I AM THE KEY TO THE LOCK IN YOUR HOUSE—
DO NOT CRY OUT OR HIT THE ALARM
YOU KNOW WE'RE FRIEND TIL WE DIE—

EITHER WAY YOU TURN, I'LL BE THERE
OPEN UP YOUR SKULL, I'LL BE THERE
CLIMBING UP THE WALLS

SO LOCK THE KIDS UP SAFE TONIGHT
CLOSE THE EYES IN THE CUPBOARD

Sacre Posts: 274
World's Edge Emissary atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 5 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Inari :: Red Fox :: Heal & Ríona :: Common Kitsune :: Electric imi
#6
Sacre drew little pleasure from the scrape of his horn against the flesh of the spy, even though it rewarded him with some kind of grim satisfaction of finally landing some kind of hit, even if it was borne out of desperation. Yet, as the blood that was not his own dripped from his horn, he felt a sick revulsion come over him and flinched visibly, wishing desperately to clean it off immediately. There was a thrill in a fight, that he could understand, but rather in the intricacies of trying to read his opponent and the air that almost seemed alive with anticipation, but Sacre found no thrill in the blood he spilt from Toulouse. Only guilt and regret. That he had injured another weighed on his conscience, even as their shoulders clashed his eyes held no malice in them, just a lingering sorrow lined with pain that had been present since the first blow landed. His hock was bothering him the most, he struggled to run with it, each time he put it down it drew another painful sensation, but by now he was in the deep end of the fight and Toulouse wasn’t simply going to let him limp off. No matter how much Sacre wished he would.

There was almost a feeling of inevitability as the spy’s hooves rose from the earth, hungry to crush whatever they could of the good Doctor, who could feel his spirits droop as the fight reached its climax. He couldn't help but think how his father would be disappointed. Perhaps even Mauja too, who had pushed him to fight out of necessity rather than any kind of joy.

It was sheer fright that Toulouse might do more permanent damage and heart lurching instinct that made him throw himself sideways, stumbling over the tricky woodland undergrowth that was barely visible in the night, narrowly dodging the lashing hooves that sought to land another painful blow. He winced quite suddenly, however, the injured hock struggled as it snagged on a stray bit of branch causing him to grunt as it caught against his bruises.

The fox-boy had no chance of dodging the next attack.

He had already used his momentum to throw himself away from the rearing spy, but not far enough that he might dodge his oddly shaped teeth. If Sacre had the time to stop and look, he might have commented on them, having never seen a horse with teeth like that before. In the moment, however, the Doctor turned his rear end on the advancing spy, squeezing his eyes shut as the top of his rump snagged against Toulouse’s jaw and the fox-boy clenched his own teeth. It wasn’t as bad as the cut on his thigh or the throbbing in his hock, but it was something he could’ve done without.

Feeling trapped, he instinctively lashed out his back legs, shifting his weight onto his fore hooves as he scrambled to get Toulouse away, his injured hock trailing behind his better one as he aimed to smack the spy right in his chest for his troubles.

At this point, he didn’t see the advantage in running, he wasn’t going to be able to outrun the spy anyway, especially with his lingering pain. Besides, Toulouse was curiously hard to spot in the dark, given his strange wardrobe that covered his light pelt that would’ve stood out so much easier against the darkness. Instead, Sacre turned the instant his cloven feet were on the floor again, going in for what he hoped would be the last attack as he aimed his already bloody horn for another slice, his target was Toulouse’s general rear end area, as he sought to find a weakness in the armour that protected him. Perhaps Sacre might land something worth remembering in their final act as he grimly swallowed his heartache that felt misplaced in the violence, but he felt the broken sadness all the same.


3/3 | 659 words

Summary: Is really sad that he hurt Toulouse, manages to miss the first rearing attack, but struggles with his injured hock and stumbles on the undergrowth. He's then bitten, again (lol), but impulsively reacts by kicking out. He then tries to stab Toulou with his horn again whilst still feeling really sad about it.

Damage: Cut on his flank into his thigh area (left), some slight bruising and a bite on his general backside, a small bite on his rump and a bruised hock.

Magic Use:  None.

Thanks for the fight Never! <3 He will forever be frightened of snakes xD
Fox Boy

image credits


@Toulouse


There's something wretched about this
Something so precious about this

❚ Force permitted!
❚ Please tag me!

Toulouse Posts: 146
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 8.0 | def: 11.0 | dam: 4.0
Gelding :: Equine :: 17hh :: Six HP: 74 | Buff: ENDURE
Boomslang :: Green Ratsnake :: Paralyze Neverrmind
#7

'   and i am not the same   '





With his fangs sunk deep within the skin of his wriggling and writhing opponent, Toulouse gave a long, powerful exhale, allowing his breath to warm the skin of his victim as he attacked. Perhaps he did this in the expectation of a slightly more fearful reaction, one that gave him the feeling of complete domination over this doll he chewed on, flung around and made his ragdoll.
When the black one’s hocks met with the gelding’s chin, however, that was when the game turned from fun to truly infuriating. First the stags hock had met with his chin, then his hoof thudded into his chest which caused a great gasp to escape the gelding’s maw, his jaw falling slack against the tightening of his ribs and every muscle around it.

The breath had left his lungs with a single THWACK of Sacre’s hoof, leaving the gelding standing in shock, spluttering and gasping for oxygen. Startled and slightly panicked, the thoughts that he had harboured away of the current pain he endured began to resurface like a wave of consciousness had washed over him, extinguishing the fiery facade of fury. The rippling bruise on his shoulder still ached and throbbed, and not to mention the horrid slash to his rump which still leaked a ridiculous amount of blood. Worthy of a scar, one he’d be proud to wear.

Finding his sights and senses, his panic subsiding, Toulouse turned his nose to find the blackened fox striding towards him with his crown dipped low and at the ready. There was no escaping this one, except perhaps to parry it with a kick of his own. His shoulder by now was perhaps much too hindered, he could not rely on it to kick with his hind legs, just like his throbbing rump was also unreliable. Both ends of his body remained damaged, now with a bruise rippling over the front of his chest. He had no choice but to attempt to run out of the way, or parry it with his own horns.

The gelding felt no where near brave enough to attempt such a move, and so with a heave of air and vital oxygen, the sleuth slunk underneath the sights of his opponent and attempted to avoid his attack, having already taken a mighty blow from him only moments before. Striding past the black beast with little but a graze to his back.
Standing only meters form where his opponent stood, Toulouse puffed his chest proudly, feeling the amulet he wore within his armour; that would be sure to take the edge off would it not? He had used one before and it had been more than useful to say the least.

His gaze crossing from his opponent, Toulouse quickly arched his neck and snatched the amulet of god blood between his teeth and spat it to the earth below, stepping in it with his pale hoof like he had done before to activate it. Watching as the power escaped through the cracks, wriggling up his legs to work it’s way into his bruises and cuts, Toulouse gaze the most sly smile. It seemed he had the upper hand.


@Sacre
attack No. - CLOSING DEFENCE
528 words

no worries!!!! i had fun!!

Damage;
- A nasty cut to his offside thigh
- small bruising on offside shoulder
- graze on back
- bruise on breast

art: © x coding: © x
I AM THE KEY TO THE LOCK IN YOUR HOUSE—
DO NOT CRY OUT OR HIT THE ALARM
YOU KNOW WE'RE FRIEND TIL WE DIE—

EITHER WAY YOU TURN, I'LL BE THERE
OPEN UP YOUR SKULL, I'LL BE THERE
CLIMBING UP THE WALLS

SO LOCK THE KIDS UP SAFE TONIGHT
CLOSE THE EYES IN THE CUPBOARD

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#8
By my verdict: TOULOUSE is the winner!

TOULOUSE
Realism [+0.5]
I really enjoyed your utilization of the scenery and camouflage armor in the beginning, and you started off with a very strong and steady attack which was easy to follow and well described. In your second post I love that you took damage from your surroundings (the tree), however as you rolled no damage for that round it did ultimately cause you to be minorly marked down. I was also confused by how you explained that you ducked beneath Sacre’s electric foxes, and I would have liked more expansion on the explanation for how Toulouse dodged Sacre’s attack. I did like your breed/balancing reference in this post. Your second post did include some minor powerplay as well.

“...as his hooves took him directly beside his opponent that the…” (PP - you cannot say you were directly beside Sacre given that he had been pushed into the tree by you and wrote as getting up and going away. I agree you two may still be close, but a better phrasing would be “it likely they were still close to each other…” use less definitive language when describing other characters.)
“...Upon reaching their opponent…” (PP - you were chasing after Sacre to make an attack, so you cannot say if you did or did not reach him, you can only attempt to position yourself close enough to attack, and explain why that’d be realistic, such as you having pursued him.)

In your third post I was looking for more explanation for how Sacre’s horn cut Toulouse given that Toulouse was wearing his armor - just simply saying the horn reached between an area where the armor came together would be enough. Overall you took too much damage for a roll of 2 given that you were hit by Sacre’s ram attack and cut by his horn, which would have been suitable if not for the detailed way you explained the cut which made it sound like a significant gash. Detail is good but be aware how your wording can alter things! In this post your timing was very off; Sacre attacked with his horn and right after rose to his feet to ram you, but you wrote as being hit by the horn and then Toulouse wandered off into the woods, long enough that you described he came into a completely new clearing and lost sight of Sacre, only for Sacre to reappear and strike him. This added too much time between a very consecutive attack string. Your attack was excellent. Some powerplay in this post as well.

“As the stallion of sanguine splashes and rosy blades darted past,” (PP - Sacre never said he was darting past, all he said was he was ramming at you, which you took, and then you in turn reared up to strike him.)

Your closing defense had good damage and injury, though I did want more expansion on the description for how Toulouse evaded most of Sacre’s horn assault. Overall you do well with realistic attacks and defenses, just watch your timing and wording a bit more.


Emotion [+0.5]
For the most part I didn’t feel a strong connection with Toulouse during the fight. Why was he so driven to battle? Why was he so ruthless in a friendly spar with a herd member (trying to crush an opponent’s hock is very brutal)? I was also curious to know more about him and his snake’s relationship (the snake seemed mostly forgotten in the last posts).


Prose [+3.5]
You have beautiful writing with a lot of great imagery and flow. There were a few times when you had phrases that were very similar and close together, so be sure to incorporate some variety!


Readability [+2.5]
For the most part easy to read and understand, just some minor grammar issues with each post.

P1:
“...strung to it’s lash…” (its)
“...his heels keeling for sport.” (keeling doesn’t seem to fit here)
“But alas.” (fragment)

P2:
“The rip and slash that came from the bystanding tree trunk as well as the lance upon his own skull caused Toulouse to murmur a faint grunt,...” (this confused me - is Toulouse’s horn injuring his own head?)
“...Sacre’s part though still…” (part, though)
“...only a few moment’s…” (moments)
“...for Sacres oncoming…” (Sacre’s)
“...he stood still as the night and glaring down at the Moon Doctor.” (glared)
“...strike. “you have…” (You)

P3:
“...his comrades vicious…” (comrade’s)
“...the doctors skull…” (doctor’s)


Finally tally: 60+(7*2)= 74 HP

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

SACRE
Realism [+2]
You start off with a realistic way of taking damage, but the way you described the injuries meant it was not sufficient for a damage roll of 5. You only sustained a bruised back and a cut flank, neither of which hinder you the rest of the post (nor most of the fight), but for a damage roll of 5 you should either be taking many more instances of injury, or more severe injuries. I thought your electric magic to help spot Toulouse with the surroundings was really smart!

Your second post fit the damage better, but I needed more explanation for the realism of the damage you sustained to be plausible. For instance, snake venom doesn’t normally work very fast, so expanding on the fact the snake is magical and your pulse is up would have helped. Also it’s not entirely clear why Toulouse’s stomp on your hock only bruised instead of shattered it - you said you lifted it up, but why does that affect the damage? I did like however that when you got up to pursue Toulouse that your hock injury meant your gait was off.

I really liked your use of surroundings in your third post where you tripped over some of the hidden roots and sustained injury from them! Your attacks were good but I needed more explanation about how you went from bucking at Toulouse’s chest to using your horns on his rump; the way you wrote it was very back to back with no mention of Sacre running around towards his rump. Overall though you have a great inclusion of surroundings, though could reference your breed and stat differences more. Work on expanding your description and explanation of things to provide more realism, but otherwise good attacks and defenses.


Emotion [+1.5]
I felt a good connection with Sacre during the fight, especially early on, as you really explained his reluctance to battle, but also why he was fighting and how other horses helped shape him. I was hoping for more of a connection with his companions - I know they were sitting out the fight, but there would still have been emotions and thoughts passing through their bond.

“Perhaps it was that Sacre thought, by opening himself up to the joy that could be found in battle and blood, he would also open up another part of himself that he didn’t want to know.”


Prose [+2.5]
You have some lovely writing with clear imagery and flow. There were times when I was hoping for more detail or greater vocabulary to help set the scene.


Readability [+2.5]
Overall easy to read and understand, just some minor grammar issues in each post.

P1:
“...older unicorns’ words…” (unicorn’s)
“...misty Worlds Edge.” (World’s)
“...the healers’ eyes…” (healer’s)
“...his armoured body nearly impossible for him to decipher in the dark woodland until he was almost on top of him.” (too many hims, hard to track who is doing what, use names!)
“... the Specters’ horn…” (Specter’s)
“The adrenaline filled seconds ticked…” (adrenaline-filled)
“...him and Sacres’ brilliant…” (Sacre’s)
“Casting a nervous glance towards where he had last seen Toulouse, ramming Sacre into a tree, still he winced as he moved…” (reads oddly with the way you reference yourself)
“...the fox-boy grasped for a new magic that had, up until now, lived untouched within him. Yet, Sacre summoned three electrical foxes…” (Why did that sentence start with Yet?)
“...slice of Toulouses’ right thigh.” (Toulouse’s)

P2:
“...His opponents chiding…” (opponent’s)
“...understatement. Which …” (understatement, which)
“Which was further proven by the now approaching Spectre, his calculated steps pounding ever closer as Sacre’s mind scrambled for any shred of an idea that wasn’t simply running away, his feet slipping in the mud dents he had just created earlier until Toulouse was upon him with the snap of a snake bite.” (tense change and seems like these should be two sentences, not a comma)
“...of his viscous opponent.” (vicious)
“...stellar collection, and he grimaced…” (should have split the sentence here, run-on)

P3:
“Only guilt and regret.” (fragment)


Finally tally: 43+(8.5*2)= 60 HP


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