MY QUEENS IS A QUEEN
NOT TALKING BRIGHT LIGHTS AND SHINY THINGS
BUT WE ALWAYS MADE IT WORK
BUILDING CASTLES OUT OF DIRT
Some would say she returns too soon; but then again, who could keep Calligo’s stormsinger from the Steppe from which is was born to love? To burn for? To be ruined upon it’s bleak massacres of spilled blood and torn knuckles and lives lost? No.. no one could keep her away. Not even the memories of the Solterran’s voice could haunt her now. Too long have they been riddled within her dreams, her heartbeats, her steps, like a demon leeching her sanity through the long days that she had spent healing. Waiting. Mustering every ounce of strength as the earth began anew with life in riots of color and the thick of spring flowers.
And now, she returns to the Steppe but with a single purpose. To rid herself of her past pain, and to begin again. Just like the flowers that blossom all around her.
She was a whisper of nightfall as dawn murmured on the horizon in yawning glitters of color. "It’s good to see you again, hero," she croons, utterly unable to hide the curl of her copper-kissed lips. She blinks against the light of new day, gaze landing upon the familiar face that stands opposite of her. Once before, they had met here, and now once again, their fates have been intertwined. Blue blossoms flutter and wisp around her, crystalline in the sunbeams that crest over the trees that line the boundaries of their battlefield. There is a magic that burns in her blood and down into the marrow of her bones. It is not the storm that swirls within her, ever present, but something ethereal and precious in the mere moments the sun has begun to rise.
Aislinn’s neck cracks as her crown tilts; muscles coiling in anticipation under the dark of her skin. The stormsinger eyes her opponent — the Warden of Dawn, the Dawn King’s glaive. The fires of her gaze flares with the crackle of lightning that sizzles down the length of her spine. "You owe me after last time."
we are men amongst mountains, pressing into the night
The Stormsinger calls him forth to the battlefield once more.
Before, they had been mere strangers, coming together in the Steppe by little more than chance, but since then Ulric had seen her again in Delumine. The situation had been less than ideal, tense for the many who had been present, yet surely Aislinn more than anyone.
Although Ulric still didn’t understand the details of that evening during the harvest festival, his opinion of the stormy mare remained all the same – that she was a force to be reckoned with, a worthy opponent who had managed to strike him down previously - a total badass, for lack of better terms.
The Warden’s blood thrummed in his veins, excitement palpable in the air around him. Leaving Delumine behind had not been an easy choice, but with a promise to Somnus that he would return at once and assuring that their wariors stood on guard, Ulric headed to the rugged battleground just southeast of the Dawn Court.
Emerging from the trees beyond the creek, Ulric spots the lady of the hour with ease, her ebony coat standing out against the brilliance of the rising sun behind her. Facing the sun, already the Warden is at a slight disadvantage, and so he treads carefully over the burrow and hole riddled ground of the steppe as he approached, the silken ribbon woven into his mane billowing gently at his side.
“Hero?” He repeats with the quirk of a brow and the cock of his head, a positively amused grin spreading across dark lips before he hummed. “Guy could get used to that.”
But as much joy as the roan finds in playful banter, not to mention being referred to as a hero, it wasn’t the purpose of their union here today. No; they were here to fight, to shed blood and help make the other a stronger, more able-bodied and experienced individual.
Without another wasted moment, black rimmed ears dip backwards as the roan begins. His hooves strike hard and fast against the ground beneath him, stretching far and then drawing short in order to avoid losing a foot in the burrows that he could see. As he nears, he does not slow, and points himself towards her left side. Muscles tense and coil beneath his silvered hide, drawing his hind legs in beneath him as the fronts stretch out to halt his charge, hooves sliding and grinding against the uneven ground. Dropping his head, the Warden strikes out at the Stormsinger, hoping to pinpoint her tender flank.
"Talk."
Summary: Soaks up being called a 'hero' ;D Rushes Aislinn head-on, goes to her left side, and kicks out for her left flank.
MY QUEENS IS A QUEEN
NOT TALKING BRIGHT LIGHTS AND SHINY THINGS
BUT WE ALWAYS MADE IT WORK
BUILDING CASTLES OUT OF DIRT
Sunbeams crack through newborn leaves, splaying across the flat of the Steppe in fingers of rosy gold. But their warmth does not dribble across her skin, for she is broiling — anticipation bubbles in her blood, churning and flirting with her storm. She swears, that even in the mist of daybreak, that he can see the steam that rises from the midnight of her skin in curls of smoke. But instead, the roan catches her lop-sided smile with his own amused grin. Their reunion was not one of subtlety, for their knuckles craved the other’s blood, their own bruises.
And as the Warden’s dawn awakes, light spilling into the boundaries of their sparring ground, Aislinn’s eyes burn brightest blue. Her throat tastes the edge of her song, unspoken as the notes hide in her mouth. Awaiting the call of her tempest.
Hero? Guy could get used to that.
He didn’t waste a moment then, as the careful wall between them shattered.
She chose not to brace her legs; to dig her hooves into the tilled earth below her. The stormsinger only inhales, light light light on her feet as he rocket towards her. Her gaze pin points, her grin only growing with the building roar of his hooves as he rushes at her. She tucks her wings close as the Warden’s pace slows, noting the bunch of his legs beneath him as she in turn whorls. Aislinn is a comet shooting sideways in a swirl of ivory hair and feathers, just as his hooves strike the air where the memory of her stood.
With a grunt, her momentum pushes forward, hooves digging into the earth at her ankles. The waves of her storm crash against the cage of her skin, but instead of answering it’s sweet song, Aislinn swallows it. Burying it, as her nostrils burn with the air that shoots into her lungs. She shoots her hind legs shoot outwards, quick and brutal, aiming for his vulnerable side.
Truly, she tries, to see exactly what Dawn’s hero is made of.
Summary: Aislinn takes Ulric’s charge head on, but at the last second, she turns to the right and of the way from his attack to her left flank. She uses the momentum to push her weight forward onto her hooves, kicking back with her hind legs and aiming for his left side.
we are men amongst mountains, pressing into the night
Quick as he may be, his initial attack is too easy to guess. Aislinn is too nimble on her feet, and unsurprisingly, his hooves strike nothing but empty space where she had once stood. His muscles coil and tense with the anticipation of her riposte, and indeed it does come. Before he can completely right himself, her own hooves beat deftly against his ribcage, right in front of his left flank.
The pain is sharp and produces a deep grunt from the roan as all fours finally meet the cracked ground beneath him once more, struggling briefly for purchase from the force of the kick. Just how it would afflict him later was unknown, as adrenaline drowned out the worst of the sting for the time being, but he was still mobile and the furthest from feeling like he would keel over from pain – and that was good enough in his book.
Pushing against the burrow riddled ground with powerful hindquarters, the Warden threw his weight to the left to become parallel with the Stormsinger. Only once he was close enough, considering his rival didn’t slip away like sand through fingers, did he launch his front half towards the sky and aim to come down upon her at somewhat of an angle, with his left leg hooked over her withers so he could not so easily be thrown down, as he bared down upon her and bodily attempted to bring her to the ground before she could completely recover from her own attack or grasp what was happening. He pulled savagely against her, hooves scraping and digging into the dirt below, as the Glaive attempted to bring the Storm down.
ooc - I bet Aislinn didn't know she was getting into a wrestling match, did she? x'D
"Talk."
Summary: Takes the hit to his left flank area. Stops and whirls left, rears up to come down upon Aislinn with his front left leg hooked over the other side of her withers, and tries to bring her down. definitely not the best idea but aaayee
MY QUEENS IS A QUEEN
NOT TALKING BRIGHT LIGHTS AND SHINY THINGS
BUT WE ALWAYS MADE IT WORK
BUILDING CASTLES OUT OF DIRT
Just like that, her hooves strike his rib cage. The impact reverberates up the bones of her legs until she swears it knocks on the curve of her clenched jaw. Her throat tightens with a grunt, registering the Warden’s own as she comes crashing down to the earth on all fours. Shocks shoot up the bones of her legs, winding up her veins like bolts of lightning from the impact. The storm inside her swirls awake with the familiar electricity, wild and snapping beneath her cage of self-control. However, Aislinn yanks on her hurricanes, swallowing the roaring winds that would love nothing more than to be unleashed.
She would not bow to Calligo’s gift; not on this morning where the sky yawns in burnished gold and rose. Not as she spars with an old friend. Not yet.
Her hooves dance along the holes on the ground, slipping on the cracked earth as her opponent spins parallel to her side. Aislinn’s orbs widen as the Warden rises on his haunches. They are too close, she cannot spin away. His hoof hooks across her withers, her wings bunching up at the sudden pressure. She buckles beneath his weight, legs collapsing one by one onto the earth. Her left knee digs into the ground, yet her lips curl in an amused grin. "You think" — both front knees bear their combined weight — "you can" — lightning sizzles down her spine, crackling — "bring me down" — her gaze slides to meet gold — "this easy?"
She could almost laugh as her smile curls.
Where dawn washed them in hues of morning glory and sunbursts, violet clouds rush in towards their stormsinger with bruised fingers. Aislinn’s throat constricts with her grunt, the vibration of her humming dancing across her lips. Flashes of starlight burn across the sky, but she does not call the chaos to her whim. Instead, thunder claps in rolling drums, deafening as the music rings in her ears.
Her strength returns as she attempts to rise, pushing him off.
Let him taste just the hint of what it means to fight against Calligo’s stormsinger.
Summary: Aislinn and Ulric are too close for her to get away. She scrambles as his hoof hooks across her back, and she is dragged down with him. As her front legs give from his attack, a fraction of her storm unfurls with darkening clouds and thunder in hopes of distracting him enough to stand. EDIT/CLARIFICATION: its up to Ulric if she stands or not, she only tries to in this post!
Response Deadline: 17 April (or whenever, honestly <3) THANK YOU so much for the post extension I’m so sorry ;_; Tags: @Ulric @kay @sid @inkbone @lauren @arahvir @Sparrow
04-14-2018, 09:01 PM
Played by
inkbone [PM] Posts: 73 — Threads: 1 Signos: 25,195
Due to not replying by the deadline, @Ulric forfeits the fight and @Aislinn wins!
This thread will be locked and moved to the Ruris Archives shortly.
All damage taken in the thread is still applicable and cannot be retconned.
This thread cannot be claimed as a "completed thread" for signos redemption.
AISLINN
Winning a battle by the opponent forfeiting: +1 EXP
Winning a battle: 25 Signos TOTAL: +1 EXP, 25 Signos
ULRIC TOTAL: +0 EXP
Aislinn's official experience has been updated to reflect these changes (along with the +25 signos for winning the battle), so there's no need to post in the Experience Updates or Signos Redemption threads!
