BACCHUS
the good guys never win
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It was warmer here in the Basin, nobody could doubt that. They were tucked away, sheltered by the looming peaks so much taller than everything else on the flat, rocky Frostbreath Steppe across them. Here it was more pleasant- it could, in fact, almost be described as nice. Especially when you stepped into the steaming hot springs, where the warmth soaked into your bones and lingered in your coat, until you had to step out. Then it was cold, and you had to run to the back of a cave to avoid becoming a walking icicle, even if it was Birdsong. In fact, if it was Birdsong, there were no songbirds here except for the black crows flocking in the air. They were greedy, nasty little creatures, constantly flitting to and fro, their beaks emitting a croak and caw which set little Bacchus on the edge. Constantly.
It was a quiet evening, today, the sun was nice and pink over the cutting-edge mountains. There was the quiet drip-drip-plop of water falling, glittering beads of liquid falling free of the once-binding icicles that curled down from the mouths of the caves, from the snow-kissed pines. You could hear a muffled thump, here and there, as a pile of pristine white snow slipped off its branch in the distance. All of this Bacchus listened to, all of this and for the tell-tale crunch of snow so out of place. The sound of hooves coming towards him.
Nothing. Nothing at all. Plip-plop went the dripping tears behind him as he stood in front of a small, shallow cave he had claimed for himself. Nobody else wanted the slightly leaky cave with a fresh cold pool of water in it. But Bacchus had dragged in some pine needles, and scraped some moss off from rocks, to bring it in and create a loose, fluttery mat at the back. It was still cool in the cave, but warmer than before. The horse you saw standing sentry at the front of the cave sighed, digging a black hoof into the ground impatiently. Ever since he had got the little taste of fighting from the mare Aisha, he longed to play and fight again.
Maybe another unicorn would. Maybe another unicorn would just beat him up. But he called anyways, just a soft call filled with nerves and excitement- "Anyone want to spar?"
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WC: 396
1/2
Summary: Asked if anyone wants to spar.
OOC: d'Art can attack first C:
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![[Image: bacchus_by_ladyfey-d5jbta3.png]](http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2012/302/6/1/bacchus_by_ladyfey-d5jbta3.png) |
| Aurora Basin General atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 6.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 12 HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
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Aramis :: Common Hellhound :: Hellfire & Superspeed
imi |
D'ARTAGNAN
the NIGHTSHADE
d'Artagnan was looking for Kou, again. His dual pools of vibrant blue and dull brown scoured through the Basin and to it's edges. Split hooves shuffling through the scattered snow as the smells of clear winter left and a richer scent of Bird Song ascended. The foul mood of the Nightshade returned quickly, the sun was leaving for the horizon and beyond, evening casting it's blushing gaze across the melting North. Night would come swiftly and the shade had yet to find his Nurse and it was with annoyance that he stumbled across Bacchus stood in front of his leaky cave. Badly timing his invitation of sparring for d'Artagnan was in just the mood to split someone up the middle. The rules of a fair fight would hold him accountable for any fatalities, if the boy couldn't stand his ground he would surely die with his killer holding no regrets.
So it was with pumping blood and pounding hooves that the Time Mender charged for Bacchus, not bothering to reply as horns angled to the slave's neck, snow churning in his wake sending up a flurry of white. The mountains watched on as impact neared and d'Artagnan veered outwards to slice, glass maybe sharp but impaling with such tender material was not the best course of action. Aiming a follow up move to slam shoulder to shoulder, the dun slave a mere 14.1 in the presence of the red murderer who stood a great many hands higher.
Hoping he had claimed his target in one blow, he allowed his pace to slow to a canter. Taking time to turn back and lay eyes on his enemy once more. Nostrils flaring and red ears erect, listening for an attack should he not have been successful. The shade's mind, usually so colourful in thought now held images of blood and flesh. The rancid smell of decaying bodies as he stood victorious above them. Madness slowly took a hold and a craving to feel a hornless heart stutter and falter in the arms of death, pink was the sun that bleached his coat redder.
[ w/c :: 351 | 1/2
ooc commentary :: d'Artagnan wordlessly accepts the challenge of Bacchus and charges straight for the side of his neck. Baring both horns aimed to slice, he also attempts to barge into him as he runs past. Taking time to turn back once his first attack was completed]
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my heart’s an endless winter
filled with rage
Use force at your own peril ;) please tag me!
BACCHUS
the good guys never win
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Holy shit! Why, exactly, had Bacchus been so stupid? Why had he decided to call for a spar with a bunch of blood-lusting, angry-faced, totally god-like, wonderful, almighty unicorns! What was he planning to do? Hurt them? He was such an idiot! Why in the world had he been so stupid? Stupid, stupid, stupid. A deer frozen in the headlights, the slave watched dumbly as the blood bay came running swift, head down to carve up his neck with those glistening glass horns. Why didn't he have horns? Maybe Snö would have approved of him, if he had those shining glass horns. One day, maybe, he would ask the gods to become a unicorn. No, it wouldn't be right. Always would he be a slave in spirit. At least Rapha accepted that. At least.
What was his name? d'Artagan? Snö must have told him at least once or twice to steer clear of the racist unicorn. From his own memories, the slave could recall Kou and d'Art together, as a couple. Did they have a foal? If they did, he hadn't babysat it. Good. Actually, wasn't the so, so, tall and magnificent d'Art the Time Mender? The reverser of time to heal wounds and stitch sinew together?
The snow was wet and soft under his hooves as he finally managed to skitter to the side, but still a few moments late. Those glittering horns did carve their path into his neck, not deep, but still the pain was explosive and immediate. The hot red shoulder knocked strongly into the dun's, and with a jerk of his head, the slave darted a few feet away, fear the force driving him now. Maybe he should beg for forgiveness, drop to his knees and cry out for mercy. Maybe. Yet somehow the slave felt this d'Art would only laugh at such a sight, and keep on with the punishing blows on his lowered head.
Fight it was.
He turned on his haunches, ready to try at the very least. Unfortunately, not only the unicorn so many hands taller than him, but also uphill now. Uphill battle was no longer a metaphor. It was with a quick, nervous inhale that Bacchus burst forward, not really sure where he was going. He dropped his head, figuring he could at least try to nip at d'Art's foreleg at the very least.
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WC: 395
1/2
Summary: Has quite a bit of flesh sheared off from neck and is knocked sideways. Turns on his haunches and launches back up towards d'Art, where he attempts to nip at the unicorn's foreleg.
OOC: So sorry for very, very late reply!
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| Aurora Basin General atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 6.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 12 HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
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Aramis :: Common Hellhound :: Hellfire & Superspeed
imi |
D'ARTAGNAN
the NIGHTSHADE
d'Artagnan looked on at Bacchus with a highly amused expression. The blood of the slave dripping from his horns and turning the white ground red as the shade wondered if their pet that called himself Rapha had called for a fight just to flee. Eyes narrowed as the disgruntled looking dun finally seemed to make up his mind and wildly charged towards him. Folds of dark hair was lashed out to the side in a flicker of bored annoyance and the Time Mender began to shift his weight onto his heels, cloven hooves sinking deeper into the permafrost. "Is that it?! You may as well flee" the voice came with incredulous tones and hints of arrogance, his words a taunt in effort to get the slave to commit more.
Even as he spoke, with oozing power, d'Artagnan lifted into a rear to counter the shy looking nip. Split hooves staying straight as he aimed for the face of Bacchus, no mercy in those eyes that had watched the pain of others many times over, as life drained from their bodies. Even if he was just a slave, he would have to do better to impress the Time Mender. Weak warriors were not needed. Weak slaves might as well die. The enthralled smile never left his face as he touched the earth's surface, sooty mane falling scruffily on his lean neck. The Nightshade wasn't finished yet.
He lurched forwards into an attack and attempted to slam his body once more into the already injured Bacchus. Taking advantage on his sparring partner's smaller body, trying to over power him through sheer force alone, lips peeling back and teeth lashed for the slave's right cheek area. The blood he had claimed from his opponent before had now run down his horns and continued to dribble on his red face. He looked like an image of terror, the bad guy in dark tales told to children to scare them late at night. The murderer who was always just a few steps behind you, watching behind a corner.
d'Artagnan narrowed his eyes once more, face contorting into a hard stare. Sno deserves better than this idiot. "Fight boy".
[w/c :: 363 | 2/2
ooc commentary :: d'Artagnan defends himself against Bacchus' attack by rearing away from the nip and aiming his hooves at the slave's face. Once on all fours, d'Artagnan attempts to push his body into Bacchus and tries a bite to his right cheek]
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my heart’s an endless winter
filled with rage
Use force at your own peril ;) please tag me!
OOC: Can we default win this to d'Art? Sorry but I don't know I'm struggling with this....
| Administrator |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
| Official |
21 days have passed. Rapha defaults to d'Artagnan.
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playing with ice [d'Art]
