Battle Type: BATTLE. Prize: BRAGGING RIGHTS, EXP, AND ONE VITAL PIECE OF COURT INFORMATION PER THE REQUEST OF THE WINNER. Contact Made: YEPP.
Character #1:aislinn Bonded: --- Magic: --- Armor: --- Weapons: ---
Character #2:velorca Bonded: --- Magic: --- Armor: --- Weapons: ---
AISLINN
SHE TASTES LIKE MOONBEAMS AND LAVENDER
Autumn's gold-dusted fingers touched every nook and cranny and crevice, burnishing the land with amber and burnt umber and fiery crimson. Calligo's shadows had grown long and lazy and beautifully dark as the days had become shorter and shorter, the promise of winter on their horizon. With each passing day, her Goddess conquered their skies for longer periods of time — her shadows and smoke and glimmering stars most welcome. Her passion and fierceness a divine pillar for the gypsy warrior who had called Her Court home.
The shift of autumn did not quell her thirst for thunderstorms and chaos. In fact, nothing could keep her away from the threat of rain and crackling lightning that pierced across the sky in sheer swords of ivory. Night had once more graced her skies, but instead of an endless expanse of ebony black and opalescent stars, she was met with a painted sky of indigo and cobalt and flashes of white light; much like the colors of storms brushing her seal bay skin and the moonlight silk of her mane and wings. For the sweet bliss of sleep could not claim their storm daughter on this night — the lullaby of gathering discord in the shape of violet billows and the call of bloodied knuckles too much a vixen for her to ignore.
Not that she had wanted to pretend the storm and the Steppe did not flirt with her in raw, scarlet temptations.
So she had vanished from her tower, unlike any princess, but instead a warrior honed and bred for the battlefield. Her great wings aching for the taste of chilled night air upon each feathered plume, the threat of cold rain like a drug that had the blood in her veins singing. Without hesitation, the stormsinger had taken flight; bursting through the wide open expanse of her windows and soaring beneath the low-hanging clouds across the angry sea. She spiraled, down down down, until she touched down on the bloodstained earth that was the Bellum Steppe. Her plateau, her training ground, her release, her need for war; bound and flattened into an expanse of land that had tasted blood, sweat, and tears.
A thin layer of sweat glistened along her shadowed coat as a shock of lightning shattered across the sky. So much in her element, the stormsinger stood proudly, defiantly, with her gaze of blue scanning the mist and shadow along the tree line. She, the embodiment of hurricanes and stardust, who dared challenge any who take her silent offer, despite knowing how her last encounter had fared. Her emotions had been wrecked; the carefully plaited armor she had created broken and useless against the ache of her once-bleeding heart.
She did not come to make the same mistake a second time.
Licking her lips slowly, deliberately, she stood still. A statue of ink and stone, unafraid of the storm as much as the storm was unafraid of her. With a slow, collective breath, the sky began to open up; rain falling in slow patters, then quickly massing into sheets of liquid steel. Every drop along her skin sent shards of glass in her veins, and shivers of ice dancing down her spine. But she did not falter; until at long last, her nostrils flared with the heavy, sickening musk of desert sands. In the shadows, she saw him — only a glance of quick silver and gold — but it was enough. His stench of scorched earth and flames was a rot that she could not forget, not when she had been face to face with their sun King's warden not long ago.
"You seem to be out of place here, Solterran." A coy, near arrogant smile tugged at one side of her supple lips, her gaze bright and as sharp as daggers of blue fire. Accusing. Taunting. She huffed air through her nostrils as her gaze narrowed through thick lashes, baiting the sand viper to come out and play where the earth had begun to softened under rain. A raspy chuckle rumbled deep in her throat as another burst of lightning illuminated her from her backside; brightening the edges around her and darkening the front side of her frame with smoke and shadows. "What say you? Your god is fast asleep."
@velorca let's do this thanggg
Pffft this thread name was 1000% inspired by sailor jupiter from sailor moon and I have no shame. No shame.
Summary: Ash — storm addict she is, gosh — goes to the Steppe to kick some booty when she sees Lorca and *ding ding ding* You have been challenged by Trainer Roo!
Of course it would rain. Of course Novus and her cruel skies would choose this day to soak him, to flatten his satin coat and plaster his ebony and silver hair to his serpentine neck. The one time he'd left Solterra and it's everlasting sunlight. The one time.
He was in a foul mood because of it. Furious and bitter and pushed completely to the knife's edge on this day - a day of bloody memories and invisible stains. He hadn't even intended to cross the Steppe, just to flow silently along the borders of it, unseen and silent. Five years ago to the day he had been kidnapped and enslaved, his slim, youthful body and plump lips catching the eye of Zolin like a pearl in an oyster. He had been plucked from the harshness of a Davke lifestyle and plunged directly into a life of horror.
He had survived, though.
Adapted.
He had been trained from birth to fight, to survive - and survive he had done. Did to this day. Velorca had learnt all too quickly that the strength of a yearling, no matter how well trained, was not enough to cease the desire or the want of Zolin and his men. It was not enough to scream and fight against them when they pulled him to and fro - he had had to pretend to enjoy it, golden eyes bright as he planned each of their deaths over and over. Perhaps he'd learned to live that life too well and found himself lost in it. Perhaps he'd just changed.
It was why Velorca could not leave Solterra. It was their country, the Davke's, no matter how many years The Day Court ruled. No matter how far he had been pushed and molded and forced. So he watched and he sneered at the day courtiers, collecting information almost obsessively, sleeping with whoever he found the most desirable that day. Now when they looked at him their eyes slid over his argent skin, maybe lingering at how it clung so finely to his flawless bones, at how plump those sensual lips of his were, but caring little for the man underneath. They thought him vain, simple, careless - let them.
"You seem to be out of place here, Solterran."
Lorca looked up, his stunning face as cold as the rain that fell upon their bodies. He had not heard her approach, hadn't expected or wanted company.
"Fuck off"
Was his dismissive reply, arrogant gaze looking the lovely woman over as his soft lip curled and he looked away again. Rejecting her.
"What say you? Your god is fast asleep."
Velorca's golden eyes flashed dangerously and he snarled, whipping his slick head around;
"I said Fuck. Off!"
He lunged as he growled, bone white teeth snapping toward Aislinn's enigmatic face as he aimed to bite her eye or cheek - teeth scrabbling for a hold that would teach the fierce eyed Denoctian not to push Velorca Ludimyr.
Not today.
Summary: Lorca is a gruuuuump and snaps at Aislinn, biting for her eyes or cheek
She almost could swear that Calligo stretched her arms and cracked her knuckles as her storm Maiden's grin widened, sharp and lethal and promising bruises as dark as the clouds swirling above them. Her gaze was pointed as a blade of steel and blue fire, piercing the space between them as she stared at her opponent. He, a silver shadow masked with gold, his eyes set upon her with disdain. The man's chiseled face beautiful and sharp angles in the gathering dark and white light that illuminated them in shocks of electricity.
If it had been any other night, or any other circumstance, she might have voiced his handsomeness; breathed such things into words.
Fuck off.
Her grin grew; wicked, and brutal. An unfamiliar cruelty burning in her bones with every crackle of lightning that shattered across the violet sky. But he had looked away from her, shrugging her off; a snake skittering across the desert sands. Dismissing her. Her anger broiled brighter, hotter, and then she knew. Knew in her heart and soul and her warrior bones that Calligo fed the passion and rage that roared through her veins. The demi-goddess kissing each knuckle before swinging her iron fists; the stormsinger's lips curling into a snarl in answer. She nearly quivered with the adrenaline coursing through her blood like a thick drug; every nerve, every muscle on fire and trembling, aching for the taste of sun-kissed ichor. I would not dismiss me so easily.
I said. Fuck. Off.
A growl ripples from his throat as he lunges at her, teeth bared and aiming for her delicate crown. She hisses, craning her neck backwards in attempt to outreach her opponent. His teeth hit true; scraping down the plane of her cheek, a stinging rip left in it's wake as blood begins to well. A scratch really; but she dismisses it quickly, instead fueled by fury and anger that burned brighter than the fresh blood dripping down her face.
The rain has begun to fall in thick, heavy sheets; and where the earth had been soft beneath their hooves, the sky's tears now muddied their battlefield. Her hooves slip in the mud around her ankles as she whirls. She maneuvers, her body ducking beneath slightly taller frame as she spins to move parallel with his right flank. Mud sprays up against her underbelly, her legs as she moves, hooves desperately seeking solid ground as she slips. With as much strength as she could muster, pushing off against the slippery ground, Aislinn grunts, meaning to slam her left side into his silver side to knock the stallion off kilter. Off balance.
Maybe then the sand viper will crawl back to his hole.
Summary: Ash tries to lean back to dodge Lorca's teeth, but misses, scraping her cheek. She whirls, ducking and spinning so she body slams him on his side to knock him off balance.
There was a sort of grim satisfaction that came with tearing her pretty skin, pulling away the mask of her lovely face and revealing what was underneath. Blood. Blood and gore was underneath them all, blood and gore and horror - the things all creatures were capable of. The skin shuddered away like nothing underneath his sharp teeth, the blood turning them a mottled crimson as the girl hissed, throwing her head back and away from the assault. Lorca laughed, a beautiful sound but... wrong, somehow.
Rain began to fall harder, faster, a benefit to Velorca and his storm-kissed skin. The mud splattered with each drop of rain, an irritation that niggled at the back of his quicksilver brain - now his pristine skin would be dirty, flaked with mud like some common warrior. He was about to say as much when she moved,
Gods she's quick,
like a flash of lightning she was beside him, so much vaster than he with her downy wings. In a moment she had shoved him, the strength of her back and legs heaving through the mud with a ferocity he had not expected. His legs scrambled instantly, the weight of his delicate body thrown backward with the force of her push, unbalanced and unstable. He went over. Side down. SPLAT. In the mud. It even coated his soft silver hair, turning it into a muddy slab against his neck. His fury erupted within him, and Lorca was back on his feet with a heave of his knotted muscles - how dare she?
He snarled, once again baring his teeth - this time coated with her blood. He hadn't expected her to be so strong, so volatile, and Lorca did not like being proved wrong. He'd scrambled upward swiftly, but not swiftly enough to escape the coating of bloody mud upon his skin, sticky and embarrassing despite the rain making quick rivulets down his side. Now he looked at it, eyes flashing with the promise of repercussions, of violence and blood against this ridiculously perky Denoctian warrior.
"You're going to pay for that"
Was his hissed assurance, golden eyes lit with inner acid. He moved, just as a flash of lightning hit the sky, the slickness of his svelte body lit up like quicksilver as he darted forward and reared. His forelegs raised and as the crackle of thunder rolled through the vibrant air, he brought them down toward her left wing joint, throwing all the strength he had into crushing that joint and teaching her a lesson.
Summary: Lorca gets pushed over into the mud by Aislinn (much to his mortification), leaps up all angry and uses the lightning to his advantage as he rears and tries to smash his hooves down upon her wing joint!
Primal fury broiled in her blood; lacing it with thick bands of crimson anger and an insatiable thirst for deep, violet bruises and torn knuckles. Her hooves slipped in the thick mud sucking at her ankles as her body slam hit true, knocking over the silver snake. She watched, almost in slow motion, as his balance pushed off-kilter, just as she had hoped. His shining body of polished silver and gold landing with a satisfying smack into the slippery mud, sprays of the nasty battlefield ruining his pristine glamour. Her lips tugged upwards into a wicked grin, her legs wobbling as she struggled to right herself.
Despite her own issues, she could not shake the satisfaction of his face as he found himself grounded into the earth. The look flashing across his features worth more to her than gold; so much more than the kiss of bloodied scratches and the sweat and tears of sparring. Whether she realized it or not, Aislinn might have taken her own personal vendetta out onto the strange man who reeked of sun-drenched sands and rattling vipers. For the crimes unjustly committed against her friend, her Warden, her court's protector. Rostislav... whom had been stolen, poisoned, and beaten at the hands of the scorched kingdom who believed in a god of violence. What untold reasons for his capture, no doubt ordered by the Sun King himself, she did not know. All she had cared about was that someone she held dear, her friend, and a Child of the Night had been taken from them. Revenge sang to her in a sweet, enticing notes, and now..
The stormsinger had her own ways to make them pay. No matter who he was, her opponent bore their scent, and held their alliegance. He was now the pawn that held the face of the Day Court King. To her.. she would make them all answer in blood if she could.
Starting with the one who's eyes burned amber at her through the gathering dark and pouring rain.
You're gonna pay for that.
"Bring it on." Her orbs flashed brightest blue as lightning struck behind the silver stallion, blinding her, as he stood and reared, kicking up at her wing. The same wing that had tasted wounds and been torn raw on the very same ground where she stood; the same wing that her king had kissed, laying bare a promise and a question atop the lonely mountain peak. The flash of white light shocking her vision, and the fingers of cold rain dripping heavily onto her muscled body begin to take their toll.. but not before her anger pushes her to splay those beautiful wings back back back. As far as she can reach, each plume outstretched beneath the storming, tear-stained sky. Aislinn's precious wing joint is out of harm's way as she watches her opponent's hooves come crashing down through the shadows that have rushed in where the lightning was moments before.
She hisses through her teeth, nostrils flaring, as she pumps those strong wings through the sleet. Delicates hooves caught on slippery earth, dragging in the mud, but with the great heave of her wings — an extension of herself — Aislinn pushes forward through the swamp at her ankles. Her forehead now angled backwards, strength pulling each muscle into a driven headbutt. The diamond star adorning her a spear of ivory; her eyes daggers of blue. Where she hopes her assault will strike true on their mark, her target aimed for his invisible third eye; to at last bring down the sand snake and drive him back to whence he came.
@velorca pfft not gonna lie but I was most definitely baking cupcakes while writing this post xD
Summary: Ash is momentarily blinded by the lightning strike, but she splays her wings out of Lorca's reach. She pumps her wings for an extra push through the mud, driving for a forehead to forehead headbutt to knock him back onto his hiney.
STAFF EDIT***
due to @spaced's / @reichenbach's absence posted here, their reply deadline has been extended. They will now have until October 26 to post their next battle reply.
10-19-2017, 11:41 AM
Played by
inkbone [PM] Posts: 73 — Threads: 1 Signos: 25,195
Due to not replying by the deadline, @Velorca 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
Participate in a Battle or Challenge: +1 EXP
Win a Battle: +1 additional EXP TOTAL: +2 EXP
VELORCA
Participate in a Battle or Challenge: +1 EXP TOTAL: +1 EXP
Both character's official experience has been updated to reflect these changes (along with the +25 signos to Aislinn for winning the battle), so there's no need to post in the Experience Updates or Signos Redemption threads!
the novus crew
the someday crew
10-29-2017, 09:37 AM - This post was last modified: 10-29-2017, 09:45 AM by inkbone
