| Hidden Account atk: 5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16.2hh :: 9 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Mongrel :: Common Kitsune :: Dark Illusions
wanda |
 CONFUTATIS
I've been eaten from the inside out
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From the woods she had run, the big bad wolf high-tailing it from the axman, fleeing from shadows to shadows with a half-crazed grin exposed on her charcoal lips, eyes devilishly sparkling with the burning joy of sweet freedom to her fractured mind. There was the pumpkin girl sprinting beside her, and together they ran until sweat poured off their emaciated frames, feeding the dry earth with salt; only then did they stop, breath haggard, spirits unburdened by the dragging weight of invisible chains. High as a bird soaring in the skies, free as the wild children who hunt boars and are lords of mere flies, the shadow child danced, not caring for the weight in her knees dragging her down, nor the horrific pains that seized at her thin muscles, tying knots into her precious tendons. She had laughed in the face of the man who dug open the earth and laid down the corpses within, spat in the face of death during the winter, and had won a hundred fortresses before arriving here in Helovia. Free! The bitches could chase her and never win the endless fight, for she was strong now, her spirit repaired by her flee from Kipp.
Her heart drummed against her chest, igniting a malicious intent, and her lips curled and peeled back from her stained ivories- there was something empty and hollow in her chest that needed to be satisfied. Even the death of the sacrificed child could not heal the hunger wholly, and she was starved in longing for the drinking of red blood while she conquered- for she would conquer, now that she was not tied to the idiots of the Asylum. Now where would she find the screams, the pretty songs that swirl in the air in a kaleidoscope of different pitches, sweet lyrics to torture? Where? What bird would chirp next until they begged for mercy, until the pain was so great they had no more screams left, just a numb silence because their vocal cords cracked and frayed?
She settled in the meadows of thistles and cutting thorns quietly, a predator conserving her energy for the next kill, and watched, waiting.
Confutatis did not wait long.
Even before cordial words were presented on a silver platter, she was aware of the mare. Skullface’s audits twitched, catching the lyrical shiver of hooves crushing frosted grass, the coarse hush of breath exhaling and inhaling in the frigid air just barely warmed by the turn of Frostfall to Birdsong.
She spins around, hooves digging into the ground, ears pinning to silver skull. "“Fuck you!”
In the brief moment when her muscles tensed, locking up to capture the energy before release, her yellow eye took in the mare swiftly. Tall. Incredibly tall, and well-muscled. Ebony points, polished as dark as a moonless night, with a coat of black petals scattered on white sand. The tension released as she surged forward, hooves slipping slightly on the dead grass, facing the mare head-on. Skullface leaps to her right, the other mare’s left. Her teeth snap at the mare’s withers, hoping to grab them and scrape flesh from the thinly-protected area, taking in account the difference in height and then she jerks to a quick halt. The silver-maned mare rears, balancing precariously on her hind legs, lashing out with her forelegs towards the appaloosa’s head, aiming towards the left side just behind ear, hungry to knock her out, feast on her blood, kill her.
In the dark, it’s difficult to make out the tall mare, even with the clean shine of the moon bathing the open meadow; the shadows slide and shift uncomfortably, and while it makes it more difficult to make out the opponent, she hopes it will work in her favor, with her sooty coat that makes her little more than a smear on the dark backdrop.
The fall to all four feet is surprisingly quiet, and she recoils, quick as a snake, head jerking back and nose tucking in, putting most of her weight on her hind legs, her forelegs splayed out. Hopefully this move will prevent any of the other mare’s backlash.
There is no acidic saliva in her mouth yet, just a faint foaming that tells her it is beginning to build up, perhaps egged into action by the fluid movements of battle.
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calsidyrose
WC: 723
Attack: 1/3
Setting: Cloudless night, dim light.
Sorry for the late reply, thank you for being patient <33 Also hope it's okay I jumped straight into battle, she's in a pretty angry mood >x3
Confutatis | Med Warmblood | 0VP
Strength: 6
Speed: 5
Agility: 5
Endurance: 5
Offense Item: 0
Defense Item: 1
Amulet: 0
Magic: .5
Companion: 0
HP: 30.5 x 2 = 61
Defense: 8
Attack: 5
Damage: 5.5
@[Adalaide]
| Hidden Account atk: 5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16.2hh :: 9 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Mongrel :: Common Kitsune :: Dark Illusions
wanda |
(I can't seem to edit my posts in the Battleground[?])
I was thinking 3 posts if that's okay with you, no limits on magic?
![[Image: postcopy_zpsa680ad86.png]](http://i1067.photobucket.com/albums/u438/SapphireTitanium/postcopy_zpsa680ad86.png)
You see, there's this storm brewing
and it ain't stopping.
|
[[Sure! That works! :) I apologize for the wait on this, my internet is really spotty and I have no clue when I'll be able to work in posts.]]
"Well then, you pathetic excuse for a soul, let's see just how you can handle this Hurricane."
I am a giant... I am a giant, 18 hand tall giant that reeks of muscle and raw power. Yet, even after trying to be friendly, I get attacked. It was funny how this world worked... it was funny how one tried to attack someone with such a venomous tongue only to then turn around and lunge.
Bam, bam! I had taken two hits without a notice. That was just because I was unprepared though. That was just because I had no clue that I had been led into a pin with a bull. But have no fear, spectators! For I fight bulls! I lead them in circles to the point where I have them tied up to a tree upside down by their own tails and horns! This show will go on, folks.
She lashes out but she hits me in the shoulder then she bites at me. I try to rear up to prevent it but I slip. I was... out of shape? No, never! I am Adalaide! I am the Hurricane, I shall prove it!
I lunge with full force, coming onto the Volkswagen much like a semi-truck. My powerful hindquarters send me into an upwards thrust at the stranger and my front legs are bent and ready to hit at her head or front and then push out on their sharp rims. My icy blue eyes are on the target and my neck is arched for defense purposes much like a snake as I coil back and strike, kind of like hers I notice.
However, I have an advantage. I am tall and with this height comes extra weight. I will use this weight and with it, I come crashing down to hit the savage mare in front of me, head on. My thick coat provides me with some form of protection, I hope. My thick mane is to distract and provide another layer I suppose. I snap down with my teeth fully bared and my front legs rear up again to perform another maneuver. I'm swiveling on my hind legs to still try and hit her with any feint attacks she may try.
I sling myself around and thrash up with my hind legs aiming at her and with this, I swivel around again, staying close to ground where I will attempt to come from beneath and directly up to deal a hard hit with my back to her underside. If this is successful, I'll try to come back up and push back to knock her down to the ground. Then I'll try to trample her with my enlarged hooves.
Word Count: 520 Words
Attack: 1/3
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Adalaide | QH/Small Draft/vanner | 0VP
Strength: 7
Speed: 5
Agility: 5
Endurance: 4
Offense Item: 0
Defense Item: 0
Amulet: 0
Magic: 0
Companion: 0
HP: 21 x2 = 42 - 10.5 = 31.5 HP
Defense: 7
Attack: 5
Damage: 6
| Hidden Account atk: 5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16.2hh :: 9 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Mongrel :: Common Kitsune :: Dark Illusions
wanda |
CONFUTATIS
I've been eaten from the inside out
|
Bodies embracing, clashing, blackened silhouettes beating, fighting, snapping, minds fraying, hearts cracking, blood dripping, dropping.
Confutatis’ teeth snap close on empty air, only frozen air burning in her dead lungs. Adalaide is coming up to greet her, and for a moment the dark, huge silhouette looms in the mare’s one-eyed vision, blotting out the stars spangling the black skies. She braces, preparing for teeth to tear at her neck and hooves to batter at her, for them to embrace as if they are human lovers. To the mare’s relief, it then appears the appaloosa slips, loosing grip on the slick grass. Being shorter than the other mare, inevitably granite hooves scrape down the cruel-faced mare’s forefront of her shoulders, battering away at her exposed chest. One flailing hoof even catches her in the tender white flesh of her whiskered muzzle, sending her squealing loudly in a mixture of pain and defiance, crashing towards the earth, the thud of her landing forehooves muffled by the dry grass.
Callous, cold, unforgiving; dark, bitter, vindictive; she channels the negativities of her heartless spirit into each movement, carrying out her dance with all the eloquence she could muster. It is true she may not pack quite as much damage in her punches as her opponent could with her heavier build, but what she lacked in strength she made up for in the tactics- and general defense. With the acquiring of the armour she pulled from the spectral landscape of dead corpses and withered warlords, she had not just the woolly hairs of her winter coat to protect her, but a secondary layer that had slowly begun to fuse with her very flesh. And, of course, as she vainly thought to herself, her street smarts and experience born of multiple wars always played out well in the competition of savagery and the often primitive fighting.
Blood wells in the numerous scrapes running down her throat and the flesh of her windpipe. Every inhale, every exhale, burns, each swallow stinging- but her mouth has begun to foam, at last coaxed into acidic action, no doubt by the battle stimuli.
Having pushed herself backwards, tipping her weight onto her haunches, the mare finds it easy to scramble back a few paces and evade the mare launching herself, enormous black hooves flying, at her face. Her sooty eyelids shut out of instinct, squeezing tight in preparation for imminent impact, even as her hooves take her away. Immediately from the moment she deems herself safe, Confutatis turns to put her scarred ass in her opponent’s face. At the moment the mare rears, moving in a swinging motion through spectacular balance on her hind legs (even the warlord’s daughter stops momentarily to marvel at this feat), she thrusts down her white head and bucks, even though a hoof cracks against the spine of her armour. Despite the bone plates protecting her vulnerable vertebrae, she winces, a dull ache seeping through mainly her right croup. No doubt a bruise will form from where the bone plates, unpadded on the inside, dug into her tender flesh.
She has no particular aim, although she hopes her hooves will come down on the mare’s lower chest or even smack the thinly-protected bone of Adalaide’s shins.
But she doesn’t care; all she wants is to destruct, destroy, maim. Any landed blow will pump her blood ever-faster through her veins, send her snarling, choking, hungry. She is starved of blood, damned to rot in the infernos of tartarus and hell. Today she will add another year onto her sentence of eternal torture that will come in her afterlife- today she will kill, murder, slaughter, watch blood fall onto brown earth.
As Adalaide turns her own haunches to Confutatis, the black mare lets out the high-pitched squeal of a challenging stallion, kicking out again in wanton hope to hit and bruise the hard flesh of the mare’s well-muscled buttocks.
Ears pin and ivories bare, eyes smoulder.
Kill, destroy, plunder.
Being of equal agility as Adalaide, when the mare turns yet again to greet her with a face to her Confutatis’ ass, the mare also turns a half-circle, so she hopes to be at 90 degrees, with her foaming teeth at the mare’s left cheek. All she sees is a ghost of white, a smear of shadow; all she can do is hope that this is indeed her target (and she did’t severely mess up on her directions.)
Again she bites, teeth aiming for a precious, black-tipped ear (is it her ear?) Perhaps just the general face.
Should her teeth grab hold, they will sink in deep, she hopes, and never let go, shake the ear back and forth, a terrier killing a rat.
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calsidyrose
WC: 796
HP: 45 - 11: 34
[[Just a question, I'm supposed to wait on the roll right?]]
@[Confutatis]
| Administrator |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
| Official |
12-20-2013, 12:06 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-20-2013, 12:35 PM by Odd.)
30 days has passed, Adalaide defaults to Confutatis. Confutatis earns .5 VP
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blood to drink, bones to crunch
