the Rift


I could love you like that, and leave you just as fast

Ampere The Mother of Companions Posts: 719
Dragon's Throat Sultana atk: 9 | def: 11 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14 hh :: 6 years HP: 73 | Buff: DANCE
Kygo :: Green Cheek Conure :: None Blu
#1
With a fire in my bones and the sweet taste of kerosene

She exhaled steadily as she watched the sunlight slip into the western waters, a promise of reduced heat, if for a while. This was the time she embraced- not that she didn't appreciate her god's guiding light and warmth, but sometimes he was, overzealous. His season was better spent in prayer and docile activity, napping being one of her favorites; it seemed counter-intuitive, but it was the horses who didn't understand their God, that didn't anticipate the trials of his lands, that overworked themselves and perished under his reign. Survival was certainly a trait the Sun God highlighted in his patrons, and sometimes that meant being smart enough not to toil directly beneath him.

Ampere's lips twitched with a yawn. She leaned forward onto her front hooves, her back legs and lower back stretching with a grunt easing past her nostrils. She had just woken, and she was ready to work. The slow escape from a crippling grief brought Ampere returned awareness of how much the herd and herself had slipped away into rusty, dusty, mis-use. Her muscles, though still visible beneath the sleek overlay of her hide, were not nearly as pronounced as seasons past. That was something she intended to change, immediately.

"Please check on Iskra," she requested of the green parrot waking up beside her. He chirped in acknowledgement and fluttered off, wanting no part in Ampere's fighting anyway. He'd eat breakfast instead, and make sure her child wasn't in too much mischief. The ease with which she requested something of her bonded slipped Ampere's notice; it was becoming more and more casual.

Her wings stretched from her sides, and she flapped them a few times before she leaned into them, hooves racing across the earth to create some wind, until finally she was airborne. She sailed across the strip of sea that separated them from the mainland and there lazily landed, bugling out a battle cry, before settling back to complete her stretching.



Open spar

Tallsun, dusk (note: can be hard to see at dusk hours!), outer edge of the Dragon's Throat.

A: 0/3
W: /800


A M P E R E
DREAMING OF _R E V E L R Y

bronzehalo.deviantart.com

Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.

Wessex Posts: 149
Aurora Basin Haruspex atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 hh :: 3 HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE
Astor
#2

RAISE WHAT’S LEFT OF THE FLAG FOR ME

Wessex loiters on the edge of the water, her sun-colored eyes peering intently at the large island that is bathed in gold and pink and purple. Lost in thought, she finds herself caught up in wondering if she could swim the distance before the sun goes down; it is a very foolish thing to think. But there are girls to impress, and what more could she want than the for Tiamat’s gaze to fall adoringly on her brawny limbs, oohing and ahhing over her bravery and athleticism. The distance between the mainland and the island seems only half as far as the distance to the Isles (and that expedition truly was the most boneheaded, reckless thing she had done of late. Her mother would have had her hide salted and cured if she’d pulled that stunt while in her army.)

Eventually, she comes to the conclusion that even though the distance seems relatively short, she cannot know the dangers that the waters hold, and any undertaking should be reserved for low tide the next day. And so the light fades, the white of her horns are painted in lighter shades of red, while the tips seem darker, and her scars begin to glow ever so faintly. The breeze coming off the water is pleasant enough, and she delays retreating to the non-sandy edge in order to find her dinner.

From some ways up the beach, a call echoes, causing Wessex to perk her ears up in interest. Oh. What better way to earn one’s supper than by a little bit of physical activity beforehand? And... she could use a non-herdmate to test her evolving skills on. So why not? The mottled mare answers the battle request with a deep, rich sounding cry of her own and turns to find the source. With her back to the setting fireball, her shadow grow long and distorted before her, giving her the guise of a monster that would fool only the youngest of children. For now.

When Wessed finds her next sparring opponent, she’s ultimately glad for the dimmer light and its ability to hide the surprise on her face.

Well. This should be interesting.

W E S S E X
image credit  


@Ampere  
Attack 0/3
Words: 362/800

Wessex is coming to play! You may have the first move ^_^
-- please tag in all posts! --
-- magic and force allowed, no death or permanent damage --

Ampere The Mother of Companions Posts: 719
Dragon's Throat Sultana atk: 9 | def: 11 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14 hh :: 6 years HP: 73 | Buff: DANCE
Kygo :: Green Cheek Conure :: None Blu
#3
With a fire in my bones and the sweet taste of kerosene

It didn't take long for a cry to mingle with hers in response, and Ampere's ears pricked in anticipation. It was certainly interesting to get such a quick response this close to her herd's borders, but she'd use the opportunity to prove just how impenetrable the Dragon's Throat was - a reminder she thought the rest of Helovia needed given how weakened the desert had become since their Wildfire burned out.

No more, she thought earnestly, as much of a reminder to herself and her own returned strength as it was a remark for the herd.

Ampere's wings shuffled back to her sides as she completed her stretching just in time for the opponent to arrive. Though the dusk light made it difficult to see all the details of this stranger, Ampere could pointedly see their height difference, and the telling bulge of muscles beneath the mottled grey flesh that promised much greater strength than the toned fitness of Ampere's own body. She could also presume the other mare was a fighter, both because of her body's cut, and the eagerness of her response. While Ampere noted all of this, she was hardly deterred by it. Such a tall, hulking, experienced opponent was not uncommon for the Mother of Companions to face; time and time again she had thrown herself against Gaucho in battle, and he'd surpassed Wessex in all of those qualities. Ampere would just have to fight like she always did, smart, and long. Bruisers like Gaucho and Wessex couldn't elegantly maneuver their bulk for the entire fight, not if Ampere kept her defenses up and didn't let a single blow cripple her early on.

There were a lot of horns on Wessex too, which was all the more reason to keep distance from her. She could even out the points a bit more though, and so Ampere bowed her head, nose bumping the leather cord draped around her neck, The button depressed and magically bony spikes protruded from the necklace; war's wreath. She'd received this from Gaucho, and having pricked herself on it a time or two when he bore it, she knew it would serve her well today. She had more items of course, all part of her fighting smart, but it wouldn't do her well to flash them all.

"Name's Ampere," she greeted, short and gruff, but not unpleasant. "Just looking to hone my skills," she warned the other, suggesting they were not here to battle to the death and incapacitate one another. That said, if forced to, Ampere would hold her ground against this foe.

The blue of Ampere's gaze narrowed into a squint as she regarded Wessex. Her stance widened as her hooves shuffled out to balance beneath her, and her muscles flexed with readiness. Ampere exhaled, and as her breath left her, she moved.

Ampere was quick because of her size and compact stature, but even she wasn't fast enough to go from a standstill into a completely unavoidable attack. That's where she depended upon her other talents. Ampere's magic coursed forth, unseen, to reach for the electrical impulses that controlled all living things. In Wessex, Ampere's magic meant to clamp down on the impulses that would command her to react, attempting to force the girl to stand still, to watch and do nothing as Ampere bolted towards her. The control, if it worked, wouldn't last long, so Ampere relied on perfect timing. All she needed was a window with which to pass by Wessex's horned head, to slip past her frontal defenses and ram Ampere's right shoulder into Wessex's right side. As strong as warriors can make themselves, as much training as they could put themselves through, some parts of the body would always be vulnerable and weak, and the rib cage was one of them. Ampere hoped her momentum would be enough to force the air out of Wessex, while her strong shoulder should hopefully bruise and punish the area, and perhaps her bone collar would leave some red kisses too.

Ampere expected that if she was successful, Wessex was likely to respond by curling around her, the natural instinct of the body to tuck away from a source of pain, aided with a warrior's knowledge to react offensively. Ampere could get trapped by the unicorn's thorns, and so defensively she lifted her hind hooves and kicked out. Ampere aimed at nothing, merely attempted to ward away Wessex's horned head while Ampere did her best to lunge left and away.



A: 1/3
D: 0/1
W: 760/800


A M P E R E
DREAMING OF _R E V E L R Y

bronzehalo.deviantart.com


@Wessex

Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.

Wessex Posts: 149
Aurora Basin Haruspex atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 hh :: 3 HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE
Astor
#4

RAISE WHAT’S LEFT OF THE FLAG FOR ME

Ignorant to border lines, Wessex thinks that the island itself is the demarcation between herd and common land. She unknowingly trespasses, and for this, it seems she shall be thoroughly thrashed and punished. Well, that and her youthful hubris. Naivete and bravado do her no favors here as she sizes up her utterly unfamiliar opponent. While Ampere may have tested her mettle against stronger, larger, and equally prickly warriors, Wessex’s never fought a pegasus. After a day’s worth of travel, she is foolish enough to challenge a mare who is relatively fresh, well rested, and used to sand fighting. Not so smart, Wessex.

Thoroughly equipped for this expedition, Wessex carries her dagger and wears her leather armor. The linked, scale-like armor covers her back, ribs, shoulders, flanks, and clasps in four places: two across her chest, drawing the edges close, and two under her barrel. Neither heavy nor cumbersome, it provides a decent amount of defense against horn or blade attacks and affords Wessex a full range of motion, while leaving her neck and strong legs to move about freely. It also hides her glowing slashes, which might have been beneficial to her adversary in the dying light - betraying their bearer and her movements. However, as Ampere reveals both her name and intentions, Wessex’s dagger remains in place, not to be drawn unless her opponent should prove false.

“Wessex,” she replies when within yelling distance, officially greeting her challenger with a nod. From that distance, a smile is useless in the dying light. “Same here. Friendly fight,” she emphasizes when Ampere reveals a fancy, spring-loaded (it’s the only way she can describe it) spiked necklace. Jesus. Wessex’s eyes widen at the first inkling that she may be in over her head - but there is no time to contemplate her bad decision any further, as the dark, winged mare moves first.

Taken aback by the sudden start, Wessex’s hooves seem to sidestep in reflex and as a result, she stumbles in the loose sand, looking very much like an uncoordinated foal. Scrabbling around, she falls to her knees and by the time she catches herself, Ampere’s magic is well on its way to freezing her movements. She remembers the last time she sparred on a beach, cursing under her breath. Goddamn it, she should have been smarter than this!

Her legs suddenly begin to cease normal function, moving in short bursts that surprise her (again) and derail whatever progress she’s made in planning a normal attack. When she eventually becomes immobile, she is stuck with one leg half-way up, one knee still in the sand. Frozen while keeping an eye on her approaching opponent, even her face is useless, eyes left to simply stare at Ampere while she comes barreling towards Wessex, who screaming on the inside that this can’t be happening again! As she’d discovered with Rikyn, Wessex finds the theft of physical and mental autonomy to be the worst crime. Strike her with fire, electricity, or poison. Temporarily blind her, even, but do not take away her ability to control herself.

One thing goes right: her Moon Amulet activates, copying Ampere’s power and storing it for later use.

Make that two: in this downward position her ribs are a little out of range, but Ampere’s shoulder rams into her thigh just as Wessex is starting to regain motor function. The front edge of her meaty muscle takes the hit and she inhales audibly, growling out a vocal release of the pain shooting down her right hind leg. Thrusting upward with her forelegs, she rights herself and turns left to follow Ampere, grimacing as her muscle protests - unfortunately moving directly into the path of Ampere’s hooves, absorbing yet another attack in the very same muscle as the first. Double whammy.

Wessex screams, feeling the impact pulse through her entire hip, it seems. In the only retaliation she can muster, Wessex sends Ampere’s electrical ‘freezing’ power back at her, shattering the Moon Amulet. If Ampere gets too far away, that’s the end for Wessex; keep the pegasus close and the unicorn might stand a chance. Taking a breath to bury the pain, she pivots on her front legs and swings her big ‘ol ass around, trying to put as little weight on her right hind as possible. Horns dip down, aiming to thrust them into Ampere’s own left hind leg - the part she can get to through feathers. She then attempts to draw up along the wings to Ampere’s shoulder and prevent two things: flight, and the woman’s teeth and front hooves from striking out once she can move again, by using Wessex’s larger body and muscle mass as a wall.

W E S S E X
image credit  


Idek what this is D:

Attack: 1/3
Words: 799/800
Summary: Moon Amulet absorbs Ampere's power. Takes a double hit to her right thigh and then releases her own electrical impulse/freezing mojo back at her. Tries to gore with horns.

@Ampere
-- please tag in all posts! --
-- magic and force allowed, no death or permanent damage --

Ampere The Mother of Companions Posts: 719
Dragon's Throat Sultana atk: 9 | def: 11 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14 hh :: 6 years HP: 73 | Buff: DANCE
Kygo :: Green Cheek Conure :: None Blu
#5
With a fire in my bones and the sweet taste of kerosene

It's an odd thing warriors do - to revel in someone else's pain. Maybe it speaks more about Ampere's character than she's ever willing to admit. It's an ugliness she tries to hide with ideals like honor and strength, but in the end it's nothing more than brutality and self-serving triumph. After all, she would rather take an eye for an eye than let someone stand on trial and be locked up, as if imprisonment were worse than the entire world going blind. There's something senseless in the notion, that it's better to be able to run free than be able to see, but it's something Ampere is already sightless to.

At least she has a moral code she sticks to; the same can't be said for all horses.

Although Wessex was kneeling, the changed position did not deter Ampere's movements; it didn't do anything more than lift Ampere's 'brows and scrunch her lips up into smirk, because what an odd way to start a fight, with a bow. Maybe it was the mare's custom, maybe it was recognition of Ampere's rank, maybe it was submission to Ampere's prowess (for which Wessex was still willing to test herself against), but Ampere didn't want to bother with the reason when her hooves were already consuming the sand and her blood was already hot beneath her skin, screaming for that triumph that would make her feel good. Maybe that said something about her character too, that she didn't stop, that there was no hesitation to beat someone already down - or that she hadn't considered whether Wessex had a strategy for which Ampere might pay dearly. There was a certain arrogance to Ampere in that moment that wasn't something normal for her. Selfishness, misguided righteousness, stubbornness, and confidence were all common traits of Ampere, but not ego, that was new.

The victory of Ampere's hits landing on Wessex wasn't enough to slow Ampere down; the notion to gloat did not rise within her, the most likely evidence of all that she was merely a confident and experienced mare. Something else slowed her though, preceded with the small sound of a gemstone cracking.

Ampere had never had her magic turned against her, not like this, so at first she didn't understand what was happening. She couldn't fathom why as her haunches landed from her buck that they did not push her forward into her sprint, why her legs lifted like heavy stones to casually reach forth through the air that had become molasses. She couldn't reason the slow roll of her eyes to the side that Wessex quickly approached on with lowered horns and obvious intent. Ampere willed her body to move away, but it didn't respond. As Wessex's variety of thorns tore into her left hip, Ampere finally regained her impulses, and an understanding. After this, she'd agree with Wessex on how truly horrible lack of control over your own body was.

Ampere had only ever known lack of control over her emotions, after all.

A scream wrenched from Ampere's as red blossoms sprouted on flesh, carefully planted by Wessex, a master gardener. Although her hip was certainly better than more muscled areas of her body, it still affected her ability to pivot away from Wessex. The gashes were clustered together and deep enough that the wound bled freely, a jolt of agony through which Ampere had to grit her teeth as she shuddered away from Wessex and to her right, though Wessex had superior agility on top of Ampere's impairment, so she still managed to pluck some feathers from Ampere's left wing. In response Ampere's wing flapped excessively, stronger than most think wings are, hoping to clobber some part of Wessex and disturb her senses. Meanwhile Ampere was working on pulling energy from the ground around them, creating vivid, blue sparks from the dead matter and balling them up into a poorly designed hawk. She aimed the lightning beast at Wessex's face. It would shock the girl if it made contact, but mostly Ampere wanted the chance to put distance between them and hoped the bright electric light would contrast heavily with the darkness of the dusk, proving to be disorienting and distracting so Ampere could hobble to safety.

Blowing hard and wincing with every step, Ampere realized she needed to get into the air, but would she have the ability to do it now? She needed a running start, and her ruses would only last so long.
Wessex had given her a new idea though, using her magic on herself. Carefully Ampere tried it, wanting to block out the hip that hurt, but not make her leg useless. A delicate balance, but one worth trying as she continued to run, wings flapping for altitude.



A: 2/3
D: 0/1
W: 794/800


A M P E R E
DREAMING OF _R E V E L R Y

bronzehalo.deviantart.com

Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.

Wessex Posts: 149
Aurora Basin Haruspex atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 hh :: 3 HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE
Astor
#6

RAISE WHAT’S LEFT OF THE FLAG FOR ME

There is nothing pretty about fighting; ugliness is written in scars and crimson sand, etched on their souls with every decision to strike. Everyone who willingly takes to the battlefield knows this – they understand that on most days it’s nothing personal. It’s an addiction to that rush of adrenaline that is elusive in all other aspects of life. This, too, is Wessex’s truth. Something comes alive in the young warrior once the lines are drawn and the initial thrill settles into a low-grade humming. Why else would they sacrifice their bodies time after time after time, if they didn’t all secretly enjoy both the pain they receive and the pain they inflict?

Both Wessex and Ampere are probably mildly sadistic, living other parts of their lives with nobility and honor in order to make up for the horrors that come with their lifestyle. As long as she can admit this, Wessex feels no shame for who and what she is – the fact is that with a mother like hers, the poor girl never had a chance to be anything else. At least she is physically well-suited for the job, even when others come at her with magic and companions, she can somewhat hold her own. Until now, it seems.

It kills Wessex to be stuck in this humiliating position, utterly at the mercy of someone else in this friendly fight (did Ampere say that in order to get Wessex’s guard down? Trusting in the honor of strangers has gotten the Corporal nowhere thus far – she’ll remember this lesson on definitions of ‘friendly’ for a long time to come), unable to defend against anything. Revenge, however, comes swiftly, and though her thigh muscles feel like a mixed batch of fire and over-exertion cramps all rolled into one, she does not hesitate to return the injury. The feeling of her blades slicing through flesh never gets old, and a sublime sense of calm takes away the frantic edge that marred her concentration from the beginning. Her first mistake fades away and all that’s left is the here and now.

Feathers fall away from Ampere’s wings, floating down to the sand, only to find themselves underneath Wessex’s hooves, which crush and mangle with abandon as the Basiner sputters into strong pinfeathers. The blue and black tips come up and out, whacking the unicorn under the chin – but that sends her jaw up unexpectedly, causing Wessex to bite her own tongue. Eyes squint shut at the surprising jar as the taste of blood overwhelms her palate, a dull pain zinging around her mouth – it’s a good thing they aren’t the chatty warrior types, because that would seriously fuck up the Corporal’s game.

Swallowing pink spit, she looks to her left and the next thing she knows, a bright (sparking?!?) light flies at her face – much too bright to be good for her dusk-adjusted eyes. Temporarily blind and hurting, she throws her head up, tossing it around in order to try and avoid the sharp pinpricks of pain. Her face feels like it’s on fire! Rather than cautiously slowing down, Wessex recklessly seems to speed up, as much as her injured hip will allow, determined to keep the distance between herself and Ampere as minimal as possible – even if she doesn’t know exactly where Ampere is at the moment, she can try to follow the sound of muffled hoofbeats in the sand, or the sound of flapping wings in the otherwise relative silence. Disoriented, she continues on a straight trajectory for a breath or two and then swerves to her left, but as she is unable to see much beyond the multitude of spots that cloud her vision, she is on an erratic path. The sand doesn’t help, flying this way and that beneath her hooves it proves to be an unsteady surface, so she stumbles once or twice. Her body always works against her in this environment, bulk slowed even further as she struggles to maintain both speed and energy. Never again, she thinks. Never again on the fucking sand!

Blinking constantly to try and return her vision to normal, the Corporal finally makes out a vague shape and leaps towards it, trying to use her superior height and weight to either knock it out of the sky, or at the very least, off-balance. An anguished, tired, panting cry of frustration and sudden pain from her hip rends the darkening sky apart, she makes a mad swing at what she thinks is the mare. But the ground is unstable, and her vision is unreliable, so she swings her head in a large arc, hoping that she’ll hit something simply by covering more area.

How quickly the previous calm fades away, only to once again be replaced by a fervent desperation.

W E S S E X
image credit  


@Ampere  
Attack: 2/3
Defense: 0/1
Words: 796/800
-- please tag in all posts! --
-- magic and force allowed, no death or permanent damage --

Ampere The Mother of Companions Posts: 719
Dragon's Throat Sultana atk: 9 | def: 11 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14 hh :: 6 years HP: 73 | Buff: DANCE
Kygo :: Green Cheek Conure :: None Blu
#7
With a fire in my bones and the sweet taste of kerosene

Sadism?

Maybe that's what it was for Wessex (hell maybe Ampere too), but for the Mother of Companions, it seemed a lot more likely that battle was her time of penance. She wasn't the most devout mare and she didn't expect perfection from anyone, least of all herself. She did expect some modicum of decency though, and time and time again she betrayed herself in that accord, just as hypocritical and selfish as those she pursued with tongue or teeth. There was something in her that she kept hoping an opponent would either rip out or beat out, but it hadn't happened yet, so Ampere just kept throwing herself into war. Eventually someone would save her or kill her.

Wessex was certainly giving it a good attempt.

Ampere's plan worked, in a sense. She succeeded in disorienting the triceratops (many-ceratops?), but while most might slow in order to fully regain their awareness, it seemed to enliven Wessex who stormed forward with much more gusto than anticipated. Thankfully her inability to travel elegantly across sand or really make out dusk's shadows versus Ampere's coat meant with fervor or not, Ampere slipped away from the impressive rack. It certainly redoubled Ampere's respect for the girl though, and just to be safe, she still tucked her ass on take off, nearly sure she felt the wind of the horns passing just before she flapped out of their reach.

As Ampere's speed and wings took her to the skies, she gave herself a moment to breathe as she coasted in steady circles around their arena, just high enough to comfortably glide. Although her ability to endure most any fight meant she wasn't ready to throw the towel in yet, she was certainly looking for a way to end this before either of them got too many more injuries, though it was always good to keep the healers busy.

With a long exhale Ampere dipped her left wing towards the ground, cutting her path abruptly and angling down in a dive as she wheeled in, attempting to come behind Wessex for a strike. To be honest though, the dark dinosaur was hard to spot now that she'd let herself forget where her foe was. Ampere could be lining up to beat the shit out of some shrubbery for all the difference she could tell in this lighting.
Sun God guide me, she prayed, hoping not to look a fool as she reached out with her front hooves in an attempt to slam her weight down on the nice curvature of her target's haunches.

Ampere's plan was to essentially break up her landing, starting by slowing her descent on her opponent's rear landing pad, then like a springboard, casually leaping off to the ground, where Ampere would follow up with a buck just to deter any immediate retaliation while she was still transitioning from flight to foot. Of course, this all banked on things going according to plan, when the reality was much more likely to be less graceful and involve a lot more flapping as Ampere did her best to maintain her balance. She'd still pounce and buck though, because at least she was committed.



A: 3/3
D: 0/1
W: 532/800


A M P E R E
DREAMING OF _R E V E L R Y

bronzehalo.deviantart.com

@Wessex

Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.


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