***EDIT: wrote down the wrong deadline at first, now fixed!
The grass is still growing, reaching for the bay man’s fragile legs even as Ipomoea struggles - and fails - to regain his balance. For a brief moment both horses are tumbling down and down and down, the ground rising up quickly to meet them.
While Asterion would find only roots and coarse blades reaching for his throat, Ipomoea lands upon a soft bed of flowers that swaddle themselves around him like an embrace. For a moment he thinks only about staying there, of allowing those petals to cover him completely and shelter him from the battle, from the world, from his worries.
But the thought is fleeting, passing quickly from his mind. And when it does, the adrenaline overtakes him once more.
The world turns itself upside-down for a second as he rolls away from Asterion, his small wings pressing themselves tightly against his fetlocks, his legs striking at the earth and sky. Suddenly they’re underneath him again, finding purchase in the dirt. With a bit of a struggle he pulls himself up, digging his hooves into the ground. He hardly notices the way the soil floods and water pools to its surface, for he’s already gathering himself up and moving. His mouth feels dry as he canters away, but he easily mistakes it for the effect of his own magic - not of Asterion’s.
A few strides later he slows and turns, just in time to see the way the grasses wilt and crumble to dust around the dusk king’s feet.
His first thought is one of sadness - in an instant the life of the plants has been ended, and a circle of death cries out to him as a stain upon the battlefield. He shouldn’t be surprised; what else is the Bellum Steppe known for, if not for death? Countless horses have lost their lives here, many more just barely escaped. Surely the death of a few grasses should be the least of his worries.
But his second thought arises from confusion, for he had not known water magic to work in such a way. It was a mistake on his end, one that he will remember.
He stands there for a moment too long, watching his friend struggle to breathe, noticing how sweat and water become one and roll off of his body in sheets. His own breath catches, and he takes a single, uncertain step forward. Ipomoea’s mind is in turmoil now, knowing the battle should be continuing, but at a loss to understand how. His thoughts crash and grind to a halt, and he is frozen in place.
It takes several heartbeats, he isn’t sure how many, for him to start moving again. He lopes slowly forward, hesitantly at first, but swiftly gaining both speed and determination. The wind tears at his eyes and whips his mane behind him while the ground grows soggy and spongy under hoof.
Asterion’s magic reaches out for him the closer he gets. His eyes begin to burn and his mouth tastes like cotton, like a riverbed drying up in the desert sun. He falters a step as his muscles seize up, his heart skipping a beat alongside his legs. As the dehydration sets in and his mind grows foggy, all he can think is to continue on. He opens his stride into a gallop, and aims his shoulder for Asterion’s as the distance finally closes between them.
He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he misses; perhaps he’ll simply continue on past the bay until he crumbles from exhaustion into the dirt. But there’s a savage inside of him that he doesn’t recognize, and it hopes for a collision of skin on skin, and it wants to see Asterion be the one who falls to the ground.
And that part of him prays he doesn’t get back up so easily.
there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
i say, stay in there
don’t be sad
@asterion !
”here am i!“
Summary: As the grasses continue to grow from his magic, Ipomoea falls to the ground (still off balance from Asterion’s first attack.) He twists himself upright and canters away to watch Asterion break free. For a second he’s confused and undecided, before he pulls himself together and charges in the same fashion as Asterion had only moments before (because he’s inexperienced and doesn’t really know what else to do). I assumed Asterion’s magic was at least partially in effect during this, so as Ipomoea closes in he begins to become dehydrated and lethargic, but he does not stop. He attempts to shoulder-check his opponent and knock an already-fatigued Asterion to the ground, this time (he hopes) for good.
Attack Used: 1
Attack(s) Left: 0
Block Used: 1 (sort of)
Block(s) Left: 0
Item(s) Used: N/A
Response Deadline: 08/01/19, again flexible!
Tags: @asterion, @Sid, @inkbone, @Sparrow, @nestle, @aimless
Attack Used: 1
Attack(s) Left: 0
Block Used: 1 (sort of)
Block(s) Left: 0
Item(s) Used: N/A
Response Deadline: 08/01/19, again flexible!
Tags: @asterion, @Sid, @inkbone, @Sparrow, @nestle, @
