I think most would disagree with your definition of fun.
Maybe so.
Andras is still grinning when he asks, "Would you?" though he knows the answer. He has wondered for almost two years how to open the tap on Po's rage. The warden watches him, sometimes, when he can be bothered to, when he is not so tired he feels like he's drowning: that same feral undercurrent that sits on the point of his shoulders and rides him day and night, the slight ache in him, magic that sings just as much as it roars. He's always wanted to see it. He is all fear and awe when it comes to the surface.
If his grin still has room to widen, it does, like it's trying to tear him open teeth-first. He would laugh if he wasn't so breathless, if Po bending his neck and hurtling his way did not make him feel something that he can never quite find anywhere else. Here is the fear, finally, come late to the war. A different fear. A reverent fear. A dizzying fear.
It is almost too much to bear, almost too good.
Andras waits in a torturous passing of seconds: one, as Po leaps into action; two, as he eats up the ground that separates them; finally three, when Andras lurches forward just as the king comes to meet him and all that crackling and magic goes dark, turning to almost holy silence.
They touch, shoulder to shoulder, only thing that makes sound for what must be miles around. Andras feels the hooves graze his shoulder then as he rises, and the teeth that close around the base of his mane--
--Andras cracks like thunder when an explosion detonates just below both his hind hooves, one after the other, catapulting Andras forward on the blast wave that follows, kicking sparks from his heels that land with them on the cold dirt before winking out of existence. Po is on his hind legs already, and Andras, through the fog of his rage and delight, knows that it will do him no favors. He would apologize, if he knew how. If he cared to.
The warden hits the ground like he imagines the king must have done, off-balance and scuffed, entire ruts left where digs his heels in to stay upright, and as he steadies himself he is cackling.
i am being perfectly fucking civil
Summary: Andras makes an unnecessary quip about the battle because he is giddy with excitement. He decides, for once, to wait just a few seconds as Po approaches him before jumping forward to meet the attack head-on, though most of his forward momentum is stopped by Po hitting him. The attack is a success, and Po grazes Andras' shoulders with his hooves but most importantly grabs exactly where he aims on the back of the neck. Though it makes his eyes water Andras uses the close proximity to launch his attack: detonating two low-scale explosions behind his hind hooves to regain that forward momentum and hopefully knock Ipomoea too the ground. He does not land gracefully, himself, and has to stumble and dig his hooves in to brake and stay standing. A great time out with friends.
Attack Used: 1
Attack(s) Left: 1
Block Used: 0
Block(s) Left: 1
Item(s) Used: Besides magic, none. :)
Response Deadline: 11/20/2020
Tags: @ipomoea, @Sid, @inkbone, @nestle, @layla
Hi, this is forfeit on my part because I am WAY past the deadline extension but we're going to continue the thread because it's fun anyway thanks!
