Fight Type: Battle Prize: Just exp! Contact Made: I'll be doing that as soon as it's posted. But yes we have spoken.
Character #1: @Seraphina Bonded: Yes - Ereshkigal, a demon in the form of a bearded vulture. Magic: Yes - greater telekinesis. Armor: Yes - seen here, primarily a mixture of thick leather and heavy, but breathable, cloth. Weapons: Yes; Alshamtueur, an enchanted sword that can burst into flame when its name is spoken, & a double-edged steel bold kept in her armor. Current Health: 17 Current Attack: 23 Current Experience: 72
Character #2: @Florentine Bonded: n/a Magic: Yes - time travel Armor: n/a Weapons: Yes - an ornate dagger, kept on a chain around her neck. Current Health: 20 Current Attack: 20 Current Experience: 74
SOME THINGS ARE MORE PURPOSEFUL THAN A KNIFE, BUT NOT MANY-
She still resents it here.
She has been back, a time or two. She recalls the muddy, unkempt landscape populated by jewel-flowers, and, most memorably, she fought Bexley here, once. Those few memories do very little to block out the thoughts of her loss at Raum’s claws and the near-death that accompanied his victory. It isn’t hot – in fact, it is near-frigid cold, at least to a desert creature like Seraphina -, but every time the sunlight touches the scar on her cheek, she feels like it is burning.
She isn’t here with Raum, and it is mid-afternoon. The flowers have all died. Still, if she looks towards the farthest reaches of the Steppe, where it meets the treeline, she can pick out the place where Isra found her bleeding out. She saved her; she didn’t die. It still feels like a death.
Seraphina looks over her shoulder at Florentine.
She has dismissed Ereshkigal, though she can see her nearby; she is perched in the skeletal branches of some mostly-dead tree, a spot of black against the murk-grey and white-bleached bark. She would have abandoned her armor, as Florentine is not wearing any herself, but Seraphina has never been fond of the cold, and she doesn’t want to suffer through it without the warmth that the thick cloth and leather provide. Alshamtueur clinks against her hip as she moves towards the center of the well-trodden “arena,” exuding a warmth that is more comforting than scalding. She finds the sword to be more of a comfort than her magic, lately. It listens when she calls to it.
She gives Florentine a long, careful look. She hardly needs to; she knows, by now, exactly what she looks like, with her feather-light build and great, golden wings. (Her hair is long. That could easily be trouble for her.) Her eyes flit down her frame, lingering a moment longer on the curve of the dagger at her neck, then rise to meet to meet her soft, amethyst eyes. Seraphina dips her head, once and slowly. “Are you ready?”
She does not give her much time to respond. A warning, evidently, is enough.
Her muscles tense, and then she is in motion; she feels the tension run her veins in that horrible, horrible second heart, and, before she can consider it, her hooves are hovering a few inches above the rough ground. (She struggles to control the floating, but, at the very least, she keeps her errant magic from pulling her hair from its tight braids.) By the time that she has bridged the distance between herself and Florentine, or attempted to, she has pulled Alshamtueur from the strap that keeps it attached to her body; the sword by her torso as she charges, still sheathed. She could have attacked from a distance, but she attempts to move into close quarters, lunging to Florentine’s left just as she wraps her telekinetic grasp around the sword and tries to hit her across the chest from her right; if she is lucky, the combination of her presence on the left and the sword on the right will make her attack difficult to dodge.
@Florentine|| boy am I Rusty at spars but tbh I have ALWAYS sucked at them anyways, so! "Speech!" || "Ereshkigal!"
Summary: Sera thinks about emo thoughts about winter and how she nearly died here a while ago. She notes that Ereshkigal is sitting this out, but she has her armor + weapons. She sizes Flora up, and then she sort-of-kind-of gives her a head's up, before charging at her. She attempts to give Flora a - gentle - hit across the chest with Alshamtueur, which is sheathed, because this is a spar, not a crime scene.
Attack Used: 1 Attack(s) Left: 1 Block Used: 0 Block(s) Left: 1 Item(s) Used: weapon #1, greater telekinesis do I need to mention the magic/weapon uses here?
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence
i'm a pretty flower girl
check out my pretty flower curls
Florentine was already thinking that this was maybe not her finest decision. Sparring with her brother, Asterion, was one thing. Sparring with Seraphina was entirely another. The Bellum Steppe has only ever seen Flora once - when she was just defeated, marching away with an impressive black eye. Asterion had been apologetic and his sister had taken it in good spirits. But Florentine had not returned since. Not until now. Her track record in fights is, well, awful. She died upon the battlefield as a child and then there was her battle with Asterion. The fae-girl does not hold out much hope for this time either.
Seraphina is already here, her body as sharp and silver as a blade. Her presence commands the Steppe. She looks fierce and focussed. One would not think she had been found here, bloodied and broken, barely clinging to the thread of her mortality. Florentine smiles, a small thing to start. It is lovely as it tips her lips up at their corners. That smile is something gentle, something warm. “You will go gentle on me, won’t you, Seraphina?” The words tumble out, saturated with a small laugh that sings, bell-like.
Are you ready? Seraphina asks, and Florentine is unclear whether her question was heard. “Nope.” the once-queen answers, her amethyst eyes wide, wide, wide. “I mean, is it too late to forfeit?” Seraphina is suddenly in motion, launching across the distance between them. The ground does not know the silvered woman. She floats, her feet never touching the dust bowl turf. Unprepared, unskilled, Florentine backs up, her slender neck arching, her slim sides fluttering with her nervous breaths. “Oh, you look a bit serious, Sera. I- I thought we were going to take this a bit easier.” Now her laughter is a nervous trickle, small and shallow. Seraphina is nearly upon her and Florentine had only moments to decide how to react. “Just not the eyes. Black eyes do not suit me!” And Seraphina is there. She feints one way, her sheathed sword reaching the other. It is near impossible to avoid when Florentine has frozen with nervous surprise for too long. Her only options are a parry and an attack.
One of Flora’s wings strikes out in a sharp parry that blocks the sword from making impact with her shoulder. As her wing extends, trying to push the blade back, Florentine turns her neck sharply, her muzzle reaching to catch Seraphina at her throat. Her lips part, pearl white teeth parting to catch the soft tissues over the front of Sera’s throat. The Terrastellan does not bite, for the same reasons Sera’s blade is still sheathed. At worst she aims a graze along Sera’s throat where the woman’s armour does not reach.
Flora skips back, nimble, swift and birdlike. Still she watches Seraphina with eyes wide. “I thought you said you would go easy on me?” The joint of her wing is a little tender from impact with Seraphina’s sheathed sword. “I am not ready to feel the pain of this fight tomorrow.”
florentine rocking your pretty flower world
Summary: Florentine arrives. Is slightly panicked by Seraphina's look of stoic determination. Flora isn't sure her idea and Sera's idea of a friendly spar are entirely the same thing. She worries about getting a black eye again and tries to ensure eyes are left out of the mix (not that Flora has an evening date lined up this time around - thank goodness). Seraphina launches her attack and Florentine realises she cannot so easily evade, especially since she has spent more time panicking than deciding how to evade. She reaches up with her wing to parry Seraphina's strike with Alshamtueur (sheathed). At the same time she leans to try and bite towards Seraphina's throat. Her aim is not to cause injury - at most a graze. Flroentine does not wish to end up in a hospital again and neither does she wish for Sera to end up there either.
Flora back up, ready and nervous for Sera's next attack.
SOME THINGS ARE MORE PURPOSEFUL THAN A KNIFE, BUT NOT MANY-
“You will go gentle on me, won’t you, Sera?” Florentine says, a little too late for her to actually respond. If she’d had time to answer, Seraphina might have said of course; she has rarely wanted to hurt anyone before. (She cannot say never. She cannot say never, least of all now. She remembers how she felt towards Raum, and she knows that she still feels that same, bone-deep loathing now, but it is directionless, now that he is dead. She knows how she came to feel towards Zolin and towards the viceroy, and she knows how she felt when she stalked a slaver down the dark crevices of the Mors only a few nights ago. She knows how she felt when she pulled Alshamtueur from its hilt, so slow and so delicate that it didn’t even make a sound. When she slit his throat, he didn’t even know that she was there, and, as she watched his blood drip out onto the sand, she could only think that he deserved far, far worse for what he had done.)
(She doesn’t like to hurt anyone. The truth of the matter is that Seraphina dislikes violence. The truth of the matter is that she has lived a very violent lifestyle, by her own will or otherwise, and there is nothing she can do to bleach herself free of blood. The truth of the matter is that she doesn’t feel much remorse for most of it, but it does make her feel sick.)
Of course she will go gentle on her.
When Alshamtueur connects with the delicate bones of Florentine’s wing, Seraphina has to swallow a wince, and do it quickly; she is already in close quarters, and, when her teeth come snapping to graze her throat where the thick cloth of her armor is pulled down to leave it vulnerable, she makes little effort to dodge or block the attack. It is not even a bite – the press of lips and teeth to her skin tickles, at worst, and feels more like a kiss than an attack. (She doubts it so much as leaves a mark on her skin.)
Florentine dances back, her violet eyes wide and doelike, and she says, in a tone that strikes Seraphina as both inquisitive and miraculously innocent, “I thought you said you would go easy on me? I am not ready to feel the pain of this fight tomorrow.”
She does feel the faintest prickling of guilt when she thinks of Alshamtueur hitting Florentine on the wing, rather than across the chest, but she doubts that the impact from the sword will give the golden girl much more than a bruise. “This isn’t going easy?” Her voice comes out faintly – but only faintly - amused. “If you aren’t a bit sore, you’ll have accomplished little.” It is a necessary consequence of sparring, though not necessarily a pleasant one, and Florentine, she must remind herself, is no soldier.
She can be gentler, if she needs to be. She makes a silent promise of it.
With Florentine still, she leaps forward again, attempting to close the distance between them; she rises up on her hindquarters and snaps, aiming to graze her teeth against the nape of her neck, suspended hooves dangling precariously close to her shoulder.
@Florentine|| I love Flora ;~; "Speech!" || "Ereshkigal!"
Summary: Sera has a bit of an internal monologue about her feelings on violence. She whacks Flora with Alshamtueur, and she takes her bite in turn. They have a little bit of an exchange, & then she rushes up to her again, rears up, and attempts to bite her somewhere on the nape of her neck.
Response Deadline:8/31 edit : extended for as long as obsi needs Tags: @Florentine, @Sid, @inkbone, @nestle, @layla
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence
08-28-2020, 08:07 PM - This post was last modified: 09-01-2020, 07:46 PM by Seraphina
i'm a pretty flower girl
check out my pretty flower curls
Florentine hadn’t quite meant to kiss Seraphina. She had most definitely been aiming for something just a little more… fierce. Yet Florentine has always been more inclined to kiss her enemy than bite them (and even bites can be loving though Flora has decided she is now too old for love bites. And this is digressing terribly...) so maybe it is unsurprising that Flora’s attack was benign enough as to be deemed more like a kiss than anything else.
As she skitters back her eyes meet Seraphina’s. She clings to the amusement that slips through her friend’s words. That small wisp of humour, as faint as a ghost, yet still delightfully present brings a smile to curl Florentine’s lips. However, the grin is short lived, it is lost as Seraphina speaks. The fae-girl’s mouth draws itself into something of a surprise. “No” the Dusk girl breathes, her head shaking adamantly. “It is not going easy, I think you and i have a different definition of easy. I think you and Asterion must share the same definition though since he gave me a black eye once.” She is aware she has told this story before. She is aware she will tell it again, and again, and again. No matter her age Florentine will always take great delight in making her brother feel guilty for hitting her - even if she gave as good as she received. It was a sister’s duty to annoy her brother after all. Even in their old age….
If you aren’t a bit sore, you’ll have accomplished little.
Flora’s nose crinkles at her friend’s reasoning. “There are far, far more enjoyable ways that this to end up a bit sore,” She says lightly, playfully. Yet her brows lift suddenly as she realises telling Seraphina that could have been as awkwardly impulsive as the time she told Asterion to practice safe sex. “Sorry.” She coughs lightly, ‘No filter.”
The small moment of respite passes and Florentine is almost grateful, almost, when Seraphina springs back into action and her unnecessary comment can be forgotten - she hopes. The former Day-queen lunges at the former Dusk Queen and Florentine is swiftly reminded why it was Day who were always the most military minded. “I am glad we never went to war, Sera.” Flora grunts inelegantly as she swings her neck away from where Seraphina rears before her, her teeth reaching for Flora’s neck. The Solterran’s teeth catch Florentine’s nape, some golden strands of hair caught between Seraphina’s teeth. Lavender petals scatter in dismay from Florentine’s mane, as shocked as the mare herself. A squeal, her second inelegant moment, peels from Flora’s lips. Yet she twists away yet further, her nape smarting. No blood gathers, the skin barely grazed. Turning from Seraphina, attempting to time the Solterran’s landing, Florentine kicks out with both hind limbs, trying to catch Seraphina across her chest, where the muscles are thicker and better protected. Yet Florentine’s aim is questionable, her training in battle negligible.
Clamping her tail nervously to her rump Florentine skitters forward once her final attack was made. She spins to look back at Seraphina, her eyes wide, “I didn’t hurt you did I?”
florentine rocking your pretty flower world
Summary: Flora feels a little sheepish that Seraphina felt her attack was a bit more like a kiss than an actual fierce attack that befits a once-queen but decides she is probably more of a lover than a hater anyway and so decides it's okay. They are friends after all. Florentine proceeds then to make an inappropriately timed comment for the middle of a fight. She hopes Sera doesn't feel too awkward as she reflects upon the fact that she has no filter and apologises to Seraphina for her inapropriateness (Obsi is now thinking that is not even a word but ONWARD).
Anyway, so then, Seraphina launches her second attack much to Florentine (and likely everyones') relief. Though Sera looks quite fierce and determined again and with such a view of a determined and skilled female warrior bearing down upon her Florentine is rather relieved Day and Dusk never went to war when they were both Queen of Dusk and Queen of Day. Flora doesn't like to think how that might have ended.
She tries to dodge her friend's attack, but is quite bad at fighting. She squeals in an unlady-like (or maybe too lady-like?) way as Seraphina's bite lands upon the crest of her neck, managing to pull some of her hair out in the process. Since she is already turning to try and escape Seraphina's attack, Florentine carries on turning and tries to aim a kick to Sera's chest - a gentle one - no need for bloodshed or death here tyvm. She then runs forward, rather panicked, turns around and checks Sera is not injured (because that would be awful and there are better ways to... nvm)
SOME THINGS ARE MORE PURPOSEFUL THAN A KNIFE, BUT NOT MANY-
Florentine assures her that they do not share the same definition of “going easy” – but she informs her that she shares a definition with Asterion and goes on to recount a story of her brother giving her a black eye in some prior spar. Seraphina stiffens up, blinking. “Asterion?” Genuine surprise works its way into Seraphina’s tone. “He gave you a black eye?” It doesn’t particularly suit Seraphina’s image of the man. She’s not sure that she can visualize him hitting his sister (or anyone else, really – though he seemed toothier, perhaps, when they’d met on the island, so she might have to reconsider that) hard enough to give her a black eye, intentionally or otherwise.
The truth of the matter is, she supposes, she doesn’t know much about either of the siblings. (She isn’t sure that she knows much about anyone.)
When she states that soreness is an acceptable metric for the usefulness of a spar, Florentine wrinkles up her nose. “There are far, far more enjoyable ways that this to end up a bit sore,” she says. Seraphina is, admittedly, only half-listening; she is primarily focused on planning her next attack. She chooses to pretend that she is not listening at all, but Florentine gives a little cough and apologizes.
Seraphina blinks at her wordlessly, one brow slightly arched, and then she is in motion again.
At some point, before she makes contact, she hears Florentine say, “I’m glad we never went to war, Sera,” and, as much as she agrees with the sentiment, she cannot help but think that Florentine would be far more of a force to be reckoned with in a fight if she could just stop talking. Still, she manages to avoid the brunt of her bite; her teeth catch around what she thinks is golden hair and flower petals, at the most, which does not prevent Florentine from letting out a yelp. (It is probably the kind of light graze that hurts more than it has any right to, but she doesn’t have time to think about it.)
For what it’s worth, her kick is well-timed, if clumsy; she doesn’t have the space or opportunity to avoid it, but she does manage to shift so that the rather erratic flailing of her hooves hits her across the leather breastplate of her armor, rather than anywhere more vulnerable. She certainly feels the hit, and she shoulders a wince, but the throbbing pain only lasts a moment.
In the brief seconds she spent recovering from her hit, Florentine has put space between them again. She stares at her, wide-eyed with worry. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Seraphina is touched by the sentiment, though faintly amused. “I’m fine,” she says; at worst, she is likely bruised from the impact. After a moment, she adds, tentatively (though honestly), “You’ve done well.”
She is ill-accustomed to praising anyone and more than self-aware enough to recognize her own social inadequacy. She has never been good at being tender – she is not so sure that she has ever even been good at being kind.
She tries, regardless.
@Florentine|| Sera's comments on Asterion are a little funny, considering their current thread. Also, I love how much longer your summaries are than mine.....your Power, Obsi... "Speech!" || "Ereshkigal!"
Summary: Sera & Flora chat a bit; she grazes her lightly on the nape, and Flora takes the opportunity to kick her across the chest. The attack connects, but the brunt of it is taken by her armor. She assures Florentine that she is fine when she asks, & she compliments her a little bit, albeit awkwardly.
Response Deadline: 9/11, but take as long as you need Tags: @Florentine, @Sid, @inkbone, @nestle, @layla
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence
i'm a pretty flower girl
check out my pretty flower curls
He gave you a black eye?
Florentine grins. “I know, you wouldn’t have thought it. But my brother has many hidden layers. I wouldn’t trust him as far as you could throw him.” Her laughter rings, light, playful. Not for a moment does she mean her words as a warning. Never does she think they might ever stand as one.
The Solterran does not react to Florentine’s comment about the other more enjoyable ways to end up sore and aching. The once-queen might feel rather relieved that it wasn’t picked up. Instead, as Seraphina merely blinks, unmoved, the fae-woman cannot help but simply feel… disappointed. She opens her mouth, as if to repeat the comment more suggestively, just to see if there would be a reaction. Yet at the last moment her mouth snaps shut, deciding against such a course of action. Seraphina was always the more serious Queen, ruling a land of warriors. Maybe it was best not to force her to engage with shallow, tasteless humour.
A blush spreads across her pale cheeks at Seraphina’s praise. “Thank you,” Florentine glows, a grin spreading across the gentle curve of her lips. “Maybe we should spar another day?”
With that Florentine tips her chin and turns, a small wince passing across her delicate face as her wounds twinge.
Yeah, maybe not.
florentine rocking your pretty flower world
Summary: Flora makes small talk and exits stage left.
Florentine's account has been deactivated, so @Seraphina is declared the winner!
The characters' official experience has been updated to reflect these changes (along with any signos rewards sent), so there's no need to post in the Experience Updates or Signos Redemption threads.
SERAPHINA
Participate in a Battle or Challenge: +1 EXP
Winning a Battle or Challenge: +1 EXP
Winning a Battle or Challenge: 25 Signos
Completed thread: 20 Signos TOTAL: +2 EXP, 45 Signos
