| Aurora Basin Haruspex atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 hh :: 3 HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Astor |
for there are many ways to kill a man they say Wessex, too, was hurt - but it would take hell and high water to make her admit that in front of Rikyn. Mere days after their spar, there are some twinges in various places, flesh wounds covered in a thick line of rust-colored scabs, but nothing screams HEY, I WAS JUST FIGHTING SOMEONE A WEEK AGO. She sought a healer for her shoulder, but other than that, her wounds are self-medicated with Hot Springs and the small bit of herblore she’s learned in her time amongst the mercs. You see, nothing heals wounds faster than pride, and damn, the Corporal knows she literally kicked the Lord’s ass.
Hoof-to-skin contact was made. Rikyn might be able to hem and haw about the degree of ass-kicking, but he could not deny it. And so she has satisfaction, the look of a smug Cheshire cat deep in its pot of cream writ not only on her face, but in the way Wessex walks, the way she looks at others. Confidence taken to an extreme puts a swagger in her step - room to allow her lady balls to swing freely.
Today, she patrols; her mind daydreams whilst orange-yellow eyes hunt for signs of abnormality - some other ice beast sent by Kaos, or black flowers, perhaps? And yet she finds neither, nothing but silence and the normal flora and fauna haunt the northern reaches of the herdland, so she turns back, every so slightly disappointed. On the way back down the peaks, however, she finds a less-taken route blocked by boulders, leading the horned Corporal to climb through summer briars and brambles, until she comes out near the Lord’s Tomb, looking rather annoyed and lashing a tail encapsulated by overgrown bushes.
Good fucking job, spikes.
I am Iron and I Forge Myself |
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-- please tag in all posts! --
-- magic and force allowed, no death or permanent damage --
Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
| Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT |
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Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit
Bunnie |
Well, look at this, I think to myself, approaching Deimos’ tomb to find none other than Wessex, looking as if she’s just battled her way through a field of thorns. Wondering who could have possibly been the last to come through that way with an amused smile, I pick up my pace, Duir hurrying along behind me. Laughing as I come up, but in a good natured way, at least as far as I’m concerned, I’m (somewhat) secretly glad to see her coming up the foolish one for once, instead of me.
I’ll try not to rub it in too much.
I, unlike Wessex, had been bleeding quite profusely after the conclusion of our match, and had sought out the healers; I’m also sure that I’m a bit physically vainer than she is, to boot, albeit only slightly, my eternally tangled mane a testament, and the thought of those scars covering up my more attractive ones was slightly offensive. Regardless, I’m mended entirely and feeling quite well when I come upon the battered Corporal, and eye her remaining marks, as well as the new, slight gouges left by thorny branches, with a smirk that tails after my laughter, as I close the distance with a jaunty trot.
"What did you fight them for, Wessex?" I chuckle with a quirked brow and impish grin, as Duir moves forward to help her removes the vines (being far more compassionate, and thereby inherently more helpful than I am), "most people just avoid them and use these modern things called roads."
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@Wessex
Wishlist - Plots
Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).
| Aurora Basin Haruspex atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 hh :: 3 HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Astor |
for there are many ways to kill a man they say “World domination,” she spits back, trying to coordinate her tail and hooves, so that the latter can step on and hold the thorny bits, while the former yanks itself away. “A little ambitious, but fuck, I’ve got big dreams.” It only takes her two tries to successfully maneuver her legs and spiked tail in such a fashion, and to her credit, she does allow Duir to help. “Thank you, Duir,” comes as a murmur right before she winces as the thorns dig into the thin layer of flesh that remains around her tail. Stupid plants. Her only consolation is that they won’t grow any more over the winter, become buried in snow, and, err… yeah. Take that.
As for the rest of his comment, the Corporal simply jerks her head back towards the mountain face and says “Rockslide. Blocks everything.” They can’t see it from here for all the trees, but a sizeable amount of rock and mud came down and blocked the path. “Might move with the spring thaw, though.” She shrugs, unwilling to really give it much thought. Instead, she returns to one of her favorite pastimes - trading insults with Rikyn. “So how’s your ass feeling? As bruised as your ego?” A little smartass smirk creeps across her features, knowing full well that she’s baiting him, slowly getting ready to throw her victory in his face.
He shouldn’t expect any less from her, unless Wessex is on her deathbed. And even then, she might still go out gasping ’Fuck you, you arrogant brat….’
I am Iron and I Forge Myself |
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Cranky astor = cranky wessex :/
-- please tag in all posts! --
-- magic and force allowed, no death or permanent damage --
Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
| Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT |
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Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit
Bunnie |
World domination, she retorts, and I bark a laugh. Taking on plants? Somehow I think that is a pretty petty start. Guess you gotta work up from somewhere, though…
"I’m sure that briar empires everywhere will speak of this day in the annals of their history," I smirk, moving closer to the arranged stones that disguise the decaying body of the Reaper from my eyes. Sure he just loves the daily banter ongoing right outside his resting place, from which he can’t move away, and instead has to listen, I look back at Wessex when she starts talking of the rockslide.
They were common around the mountain, in particular, near the sea. It had always been a part of our culture, as far as I had seen, to work around the mountain’s changes. Sending soldiers to clear debris was a waste of time, especially with the snows incoming, sure to throw even more down the mountainsides into once open paths.
"The paths are always changing," I say, with a shrug, "if not with the thaw, then the early rains, or the autumn."
Having returned my attention to my Uncle, an ear flits back, and my nearest eye to the Mutant looks sidelong in her direction. With a snort, I roll my eyes and shake my head slightly.
"Don’t know much about my ego, I see," I remark, because, honestly, its not the sort to easily bruise. Gets knocked down, gets back up again, sure, but, for the most part, there are maybe one or two people in the world who can make their way through those walls, to where my feelings are. I know I’m awesome – it’s not my fault that Wessex is covered in sharp shit and is half moose. It was an unfair contest to start with, and besides, I still hold firmly to the belief that it could have gone either way, and, at the end of the day, I was still her boss. "My ass is perfect as always though. Didn’t bleed to death, either, thanks for noticing. Nox is pretty good at his job."
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@Wessex
Wishlist - Plots
Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).
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[O] Brace yourself for aftershocks
