the Rift


Respect is a Virtue [kipp]

Zdravilo Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#1
Not arrogant, but proud. Zdravilo was in a mood for a spar. Her neck was arched and her mane lay on it's side with no curls nor waves. So far, she was enjoying herself, but what happened when war was strung over the land? Zdravilo needed to learn to fight. Her hooves hit the soft thistle creating thuds. Her legs moved at an elongated trot. Air violently shaking her nostrils as it left her lungs. The sun was high in the sky on this fine mid-day. Yet, it wasn't long before it got really hot. Sweat beading down her two-toned coat. The air was still and there was not a sweet second of breeze. The thistle was short, as if it had been cut down. Slight dust was kicked up whenever she picked her hooves up. No shade, no river, no breaks. She would spar today.

She let out a war cry. Her chords rung in the air with a powerful melody, yet a dangerous vibe. An aura of energy rolled off of her. She barred her jaw as she grinned her teeth back and forth. She stopped trotting and stood in a lowly halt. She hoped someone would come. It would be pointless for her to come out here in the hot sun to just be let down. She looked around. Her acidic gaze saw no one, but she didn't have an eye on every place.

Letting out yet another war cry, she screeched. This cry was louder and stronger. This was filled with a vigor to draw a worthy opponent. Sweat beading down her coat as she stood still. Her nostrils flared and shuddered. She was like a rubber band, being pulled and pulled farther and farther. She was being stretched to the limit. Eventually the ruber band would be let go and be shot at whoever was infront of it. On this day, the fates would to get Kipp to come and answer the ominous war cry.

Let the battle commence.

OOC :: WC :: 334 :: ATTACKS :: 0/4
Standard Sparring Rules apply.
- ZDRAVILO X KIPP (May the best be the victor)
SETTING :: Hot, midday give or take, set in Thistle Meadow, but the river is too far away to take into consideration. The grass is short, there is no breeze. It is very very hot, and dust from the ground can easily be kicked up.
- PERMISSION :: Magic use and companion use is granted.
- NOTE :: I'm a little rusty, now. C:
- ATTACKS :: 4 attacks plus a closing defense.

Kipp Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#2



Like a victim of a fire, iron laced his throat like acrid smoke. Blood no longer stains muzzle or teeth, but with every swallow, every breath, Kipp swears he can taste it; feel it running in rivulets down his throat. Only trace shadows linger of the drug that had transformed the kindly yearling into a vicious monster, cruel whispers that made limbs twitch and temper flare. The venom of a tiny bite had ripped open a chest of darkness that had been locked away; a guilty secret inside his soul. Did bloodlust hide within them all? Had Mandrake infected every son with her genetics? A skeleton his family had kept hidden in their personal closets had appeared in his as well, seemingly overnight. Yet, there was no remorse in the scraps of his conscience after that bloody night. Aware of every action, Kipp had been a spectator to his own violence- watched hooves slice pewter hide, draw delicious crimson. Together, the minions had ended the life of the demon that ruined them. Casimir had seemed to change just as much, but where Kipp rose from the ashes with a budding understanding of his released inner darkness...Casimir had shattered.

Little time had passed since Mandrake’s return to hell. Grumpily, he recalls how sweat had tainted the coat of every Son that night. But the fittingly hellish heat of the Heart seemed weak in comparison to the current weather. Cloudless day gave the sun full dominance- as if rebelling against autumn, the fury of a Tallsun heatwave scorched the earth, and in turn beat against his spine relentlessly. This only soured his already foul mood. Breed-defining Sturdy hooves slam the earth, temper spiking. Silt and dust explode from the ground, easily displaced with the lack of hydration in the soil.

Crowned boy snorted angrily at this. Like a confined tempest he was ready to destroy his container; unleash still-unfamiliar rage. Demolish, dominate. Indulgently, he’s answered; feminine scream shatters the silence, challenging any who dare answer her call. Slight curl of lips betrays his sick delight. He runs, and time slips by unnoticed, distance meaningless- he will accept. Hazy horizon hides nothing as he hunts her down relentlessly, and finally her form is revealed and immediately analyzed. Older, yet smaller in stature- a china doll in comparison. But he's aware of how dangerous a single mare can be. Faces her directly, unmoving. Calculating.

There's hardly a need for words, so none spill forth. She has called him here, after all. She knows why he’s arrived, that he accepts her challenge. And the tempest unleashes in a violent surge of motion. Growl shakes pewter throat, powerful thighs shoving him forward. Mandrake's blood sings praise for obtaining her composition; his sick, unwanted gift of her relation. He observes Zdravilo while crossing the distance between them- antlers sprout from her brow, moderately sized but immediately categorized as extremely dangerous. Kipp's sharp horn was made for slicing and stabbing. Those appendages were meant for brutal defensive blows. But he'd been trained for this since birth. Memories croon agreement; Casimir's blinding, Emerson's abandonment, Archibald's ruthlessness. A twisted cycle. He stops trying to balance the good and evil, Mandrake’s machine once more. There's nobody to impress when the monsters within howl for blood and battle, after all.

It's soon clear that as strong and precise as he is, he'd not been gifted with swiftness. Legs sprout tall, one of Emerson's attributes, but this is all he has in the area of speed. If he got close instead...veering sharply to his right- her left- crown sank in preparation for the next phase of his plan. Once he thought he was out of her range, he swooped abruptly left, hoping the slight angle would make turning her antlers quickly difficult. Kipp lurched, intending to slam her directly behind the elbow.

Blood floods his mouth with no accompanying fluid, a phantom. The youth would show her that demons existed; let her burn in the flames of the lingering poison. Heart pounds. Ears buzz. Battle sirens wail lustfully in his mind. Head still low as if herding her, horn threatening her, Kipp grinned wildly. Quivered in absolute delight as he neared her. The starving wolf targeting the naive lamb. Fangs well-hidden in a baby face. Temporarily.

Hoping to have reached her left side, horn angled in an attempt to slice the topmost part of her left flank. Should it land, it wouldn't be too deep. He was still too tall, it would likely cut across the top of her left hip at most. If it didn't land, his wide Irish chest and sloping Appy shoulders still angled in an attempt to slam her and knock the wind from her lungs. He'd burn her with flames the devil herself had sown in his heart.

-----
WC: 800
Attack: 1/4
Defense: 0/1
Notes: Sorry for the wait ^^



Credit

Zdravilo Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#3
I stood silent for a second.

Whatever was coming was huge. I could feel myself getting light headed as the beast hurled himself closer. Turning my head to him, I'm stuck. Like a deer in headlights I'm in a trance. My body frozen through. Had I known the gargantuan mass of fur would come at a high speed towards me I wouldn't have called for it. When he is close, I fucking move. Hell no would I let that thing run into me. Though he seemed young. A horse wise with age would realize barreling himself like that would drain his energy in a flick.

Then it hit me.

No, not him, but an idea. He is too close for comfort though I wait it out. As he gets about four feet away I recoil my body and twist myself so he misses. Though his tail whipping my butt as he ran past was unpleasant. I wasn't really sure how I had done that, but I somehow did. My audits had perked themselves up. Aw hell no, he was not going to beat me. My audits flattened themselves. My hot blood coursing my veins. Sweat so clear on my small frame. Yes, he had strength, volume, and mass, I had agility and speed on my side.

I lowered my head and snorted.

Then, I launched myself at him. When I thought I was near (Whether I really was or wasn't) I tried launching myself to where'd he would be. My pointed antlers would love piercing skin, though they'd get dirty which was a shame. After landing, I couldn't let if I'd hit him, or even where I had. I launched my front end high, my front legs attempting to hit his side, or wherever the fuck he was.

Hastily, I had to admit. I was nearly peeling myself, I wanted to close my eyes and just skip home, but no. I had to fight, it was a duty.

OOC :: Attacks - 1/4
- Injuries - Suffers nothing yet. Though the heat is draining her energy.
This was kind of bad. |:

Kipp Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#4



There is delicious fear in her orbs, wideness to her gaze that Kipp knows intimately. He has cooed to it like a mother to her child, settled it in like a virus in their soul whenever Mandrake uttered the name of the victim. It is like an aphrodisiac to him, the red that sends the bull into frenzy. She is like a statue, still and frozen, and there is a dawning horror on her visage that he can read. Regret. Good, she should regret calling to him, thinking she is able to defeat any who answer her call. Had Archibald or Knox answered, would she be alive after this battle? Having no information on her, he can’t summon the heart to say he’d feel bad for her passing. Perhaps he will teach her a lesson.

The heat is sweltering and his coat is perspiring, darkening into slate grey. But his charge is not to be underestimated, for he knows that this is the only chance for him to use the little speed he has; uses it to instill fear, to maximize his mass in her vision. Where they should collide there is a flurry of movement, much of it distorted with the heat that causes the horizon to ripple, and the hurricane of hair that engulfs the both of them through movement. Landing hard, Kipp hit the ground forehoof first, jogging a few paces to let the momentum pass and prevent him from becoming a sitting target. Already he is turning back towards the femme, jaw clenched in anger that she dare evade him. How, he doesn't know. But she will fall beneath his hooves like the countless victims he had slain with his brothers, watch her gasp and hear her squeals of terror and agony. See the white of her eyes; watch her lifeblood stain her coat. There is no Kipp in this beast, only a machine that will not stop hunting until its prey is dead or has escaped.

Her display of bravado, a snort and dip of crown, only makes Kipp bare his teeth to her in a nasty skeleton grin, ready to show her the pain of such a grip. She wastes no time, and he is still trying to circle as she charges, unwilling to stop too short or too fast. His left side is her prey, and the antlers he so despised crooked towards him like devilish, beckoning fingers. Instead of cowering or running to avoid her, Kipp charges towards her in return. Let her spear him! Let her see the devil that shall awaken once his blood is spilled! The earth would shake in his rage just as his brother’s, and she would suffer. As they near she lunges, but he has already been moving- arcing to his left to face her, not quite head on as he is angled slightly towards her left ear, unable to straighten fully in the time given. What a fool she is! Her front end rises, and Kipp in turn ducks down. It is hard, the pounding of her hooves stirring dust that stings his eyes and impedes his view, and his height working against him, but she has aided him in her flight heavenward. With the angle he has, crown is dipped and horn once more pointed for her, low as he can possibly get to his Lord’s domain, ready to pierce or sharply skim her left shoulder, perhaps even an inch or so of her left breast. Antler points are not made to reach this low, for it would block the vision of any elk, a natural prey animal. There is clearance here, both in their opposite directions towards sky and earth, and in natural flaw of defensive attributes. But being this close while she lunges, the both of them shoving towards each other, has its consequences. Hooves strike him, but not where she intended. Instead they scrape and sear his belly, nicking his left fore elbow, for his left shoulder is positioned to hopefully slam into her left breast. It hisses and stings fiercely, but with less ferocity than if it had struck his legs as she’d- so he’d thought in that moment- desired.

The lowest point of her antlers scrape his right hip, catching some of his flank and the swell of his hindquarters, leaving a flaming streak of pain. Kipp curses his height, eyes shut tight against the sand, hoping to cut and slam her so close to her chest. Being so close to her heat only makes him sweat further, but close combat is where he excels, and he cannot complain. The sun scalds his spine, belly and ass aches angrily with his forward movement, hip scrape exposed to burn hotter beneath the scorching sun. Fucking. Antlers.

---
WC: 796
Attack: 2/4
Defense: 0/1
Injuries: Cut/scrape down left underbelly, slight scrape on left foreleg's elbow. Scrape along right hip and hindquarter.



Credit

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#5
21 days have passed. Zdravilo forfeits to Kipp.
Kipp receives 1 VP. -- Underaged

Hestia Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#6
This is void as Kipp is only a yearling. (And I have an absence notice up)
I had asked an admin to delete this, but I guess they forgot?

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#7
An absence notice only buys you 3 weeks since the last post, which is the same time limit for spars.
We do not delete IC threads. Next time, post in the updates board to have it closed.

Default stays.


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