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+---- Thread: oh Killdare, dear (/showthread.php?tid=3218)
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oh Killdare, dear - Joscelin - 08-25-2015
I'm in need of some practice, and I need a way to get things kick-started for myself here in the Amazons. You're the one I've picked to be my guinea pig, lucky you. Here's how it works: If I win, you get to come hang out with me in the Amazons for one year. If I lose, I won't bother you for a year.
Here are my terms:
-Two posts each
-Two attacks/counterattacks per post
-Defense as needed
-Three days between posts
-One extension allowed
-Traits allowed
-Post your stats
-You go first
My stats:
Hybrid (think Morab)
15hh
4 years
Flight without wings, light beam emission
RE: oh Killdare, dear - Killdare - 08-26-2015
Killdare will accept.
Friesian/Vanner cross
16hh
Erm, Dragon wings
If I win then you come visit Chamber >_>
Will get post up no later than Sat when has access to pc
RE: oh Killdare, dear - Joscelin - 08-26-2015
Very well, I will concede to a single visit and no more. See, I can be reasonable.
RE: oh Killdare, dear - Killdare - 08-29-2015
<style type="text/css">.darebattle_container{position:relative;z-index:1;width:476px;height:550px;background:#000 url('http://i797.photobucket.com/albums/yy258/tbiter/darebattle_zpsifl2v7g4.jpg')}.darebattle_container p{margin:0;}.darebattle_messagebox{position:absolute;z-index:10;left:60px;top:110px;width:360px;height:260px;color:#4C331A;font:12px 'Times New Roman', serif;background: rgba(255,255,255,0.2);}.darebattle_message{text-align:justify;padding:10px;height:220px;overflow:auto;}.darebattle_message::-webkit-scrollbar{width:1px;background:transparent;}.darebattle_bottomborder{border-bottom: 3px solid#1E1E1E;width:280px;text-align:center;}.darebattle_topborder{position:absolute;bottom:20px;width:300px;right:20px;border-top:1px solid #000;text-align:center;}</style><center><div class="darebattle_container"><div class="darebattle_messagebox"><p class="darebattle_bottomborder">THE DRAGON'S IRE, MORE FIERCE THAN FIRE<BR></p><p class="darebattle_message">
And he went-because it was his duty.
And he went-because he was not afraid.
To send darkness into the light of men's hearts, such is the duty of the warrior.
He found the challenge plains with little incident, the packed earth reeking of blood and victories. The red clay was solidly compressed, likely left behind by some ancient river. Patterns of sediment swirled throughout the grounds, ripples of water it had not yet forgotten.
He approached them with clarity, with an undeniable sense of purpose. He took comfort in this shred of familiarity, in his acquaintance with competition. Yes, with those things he found solace, even as he came to stand opposite the bay female. He took her in briefly through glassy-green eyes, his mahogany wings grabbing gently at his own earthy hide. He was standing before her, facing her head-on. Tendrils of light lit their way against a shattered base, and it was then he knew his challenger was not ordinary. Even if her appearance had not led him to this knowledge, her scent surely would have. An illuminated greenhouse. Too much sun against the backdrop of the Jungle’s flora.
Killdare forgoes the usual song and dance, rushing the female overwhelmingly and immediately. He wanted to leave as little room as possible for prediction on his opponent’s part. No hints issued by way of visual cues. His body was an angry steam engine, a locomotive gaining speed as it chugged along. He was wary, of what lay beneath her fractured form, and rightly so. His breath rolled up from his diaphragm with rumbling huffs as he progressed. He would first use his size, his muscle and strength to bring her down. He lined up with her left side, targeting her breast and her shoulder. If the blow did not send her crashing into the earth, then perhaps it would at least leave her very sore.
He steeled himself for the assault, spreading his wings just enough to lift off the ground. He used his momentum to create a torpedo with his body, bracing himself for impact. Killdare did not want to be tripped up in his own handiwork, had no intentions to be sent careening across the plains from his own attack. Expansive slate tipped wings did not lift him, they gripped the sky and pulled the world down. The earthen bay broke the atmosphere with each thrust, catching the updraft after his attack. The climb was not perfect, it was slow, attributed to his mass and collision. Still, he persisted, reaching into the air. Once satisfied with the distance he curved around turning to face her again, holding himself suspended in the skies.
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RE: oh Killdare, dear - Joscelin - 08-31-2015
<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Alegreya|Poiret One' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><style>#josc3{background:url('http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v299/insane43/mikanicole-deviantart-bg_zpsdtw9qpsx.jpg');background-size:600px;width:600px;border:#151412 1px solid;box-shadow:0px 0px 10px #151412;padding:0px;}#josc3pic{width:600px;z-index:0;position:relative;margin-top:0px;}#josc3box{width:550px;background-color:#3f4660;border:#151412 1px inset;opacity:0.8;z-index:1;position:relative;margin-top:-60px;margin-bottom:25px;}#josc3words{width:540px;color:#000000;font-family: 'Alegreya', serif;font-size:14px;}#josc3name{color:#f7f6f4;font-family: 'Poiret One', sans-serif;font-size:40px;text-transform:uppercase;margin-bottom:0px;margin-top:0px;}#josc3quote{color:#f7f6f4;font-family: 'Poiret One', sans-serif;font-size:12px;text-transform:uppercase;font-style:italic;}#josc3quote2{color:#000000;font-family: 'Alegreya', serif;font-size:14px;font-style:italic;margin-bottom:5px;margin-top:-8px;}</style><center><div id="josc3"><div id="josc3pic"><img width="600px" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v299/insane43/mikanicole-deviantart_zpsdwryaalu.png"></div><div id="josc3box"><p id="josc3quote">There's a song in your lung and a dream in your eye.</p><p align="justify" id="josc3words">He comes as expected, answering her brazen challenge. She stands upon the hardened ground, feet planted solidly against earth stained by eons of blood and sweat. Her golden eyes are fixed upon him as he approaches, watching him closely for signs of attack. He does not disappoint. He launches into a sprint, coming directly for her. He does not deviate from his course, nor does he prepare himself to strike with his hooves. He appears to be preparing to use the full force of his weight against her. She is at a disadvantage in that respect. She is shorter, her red body more delicate and refined than his. He outweighs her, he is stronger than she. But she is not helpless by any means. Her body is designed for speed and agility, her ability to fly without wings giving her swiftness and maneuverability an edge that others lack. She will use that to her advantage.
He comes at her, body edging ever so slightly to her left. She shies to her right to avoid his larger frame, but she misjudges his nearness, his swiftness. He clips her shoulder heavily, causing her body to flinch backwards. The shoulder will bruise, perhaps will even impact her mobility in future attacks. The attack pushes her back onto her haunches. Rather than pushing her off balance as he had likely hoped, she uses the force to her advantage. Her hind legs bend, coiling deftly into springs for her own counterattack. His heft had pushed the majority of her own weight onto her hindquarters. Bringing her forehand up, she launches into him as he slips past her, wings extending to take flight. Using the full, waiting force of her hind limbs, she springs forward, hooves aimed at the stallion’s haunches. She does not aim for a specific location, but rather at the entirety of the intricate network of muscles, hoping only to land her hooves in an area that would hurt. The hindquarters are the powerhouse of the horse. They provide the energy for nearly every movement he might make. By injuring any part of it (thigh, loins, buttock, stifle, she’s not picky, any of them would do), she would reduce the power he could wield against her. Any less power he could bring to bear would only benefit her.
His wings create a wind, swirling against the earth, kicking up dust as he pulls himself into the air. She is prepared for his flight. Wings are a slow and clumsy way to fly, at least when compared to her own ability. She is not prepared for the dust though. She blinks rapidly as she lifts herself off the ground, clearing the film from her eyes.
She pauses only a moment to clear her vision before arrowing straight at the bay stallion. When she is only feet from him, she flares sun bright as multiple beams of light spill from her body. She is careful not to send them in his direction (she doesn’t wish to kill him after all), but the white light would be blinding, hiding her intentions from his sight. She barrels towards him, aiming for his left wing. At the last moment, she jerks sideways, using the full force of her body weight and forward momentum to slam the right (uninjured) side of her body into his wing. With luck, she would cripple the appendage, rendering him unable to fly.</p><p id="josc3name">Joscelin</p><p id="josc3quote2">Tiphon x Elysteria</p></div></div><font size="1" color="#000000">html c insane | picture c mikanicole.deviantart.com</font></center>
RE: oh Killdare, dear - Killdare - 09-01-2015
Killdare will use extension- as no PC access unless at work. Today is my friday, can have post up no later than Saturday if unable to get to a PC before then if acceptable.
RE: oh Killdare, dear - insane - 09-01-2015
Sounds good
RE: oh Killdare, dear - Call - 09-05-2015
<style type="text/css">.darebattle_container{position:relative;z-index:1;width:476px;height:550px;background:#000 url('http://i797.photobucket.com/albums/yy258/tbiter/darebattle_zpsifl2v7g4.jpg')}.darebattle_container p{margin:0;}.darebattle_messagebox{position:absolute;z-index:10;left:60px;top:110px;width:360px;height:260px;color:#4C331A;font:12px 'Times New Roman', serif;background: rgba(255,255,255,0.2);}.darebattle_message{text-align:justify;padding:10px;height:220px;overflow:auto;}.darebattle_message::-webkit-scrollbar{width:1px;background:transparent;}.darebattle_bottomborder{border-bottom: 3px solid#1E1E1E;width:280px;text-align:center;}.darebattle_topborder{position:absolute;bottom:20px;width:300px;right:20px;border-top:1px solid #000;text-align:center;}</style><center><div class="darebattle_container"><div class="darebattle_messagebox"><p class="darebattle_bottomborder">THE DRAGON'S IRE, MORE FIERCE THAN FIRE<BR></p><p class="darebattle_message">
Adrenaline roars through his veins. He is curving, directing his path with tiny adjustments of his wings that work a steady rhythm to raise his mass. He sneaks a peek to his right, turning his neck and head to view the damage of his throbbing right side. His coarse black hairs whip around his ears, lashing like whips against the blue sky. Killdare assesses the impairment, his eyes following the cut in his flesh before he snorts. The female had struck out at him before he managed to pull himself into the air, her forelegs had met his flesh as they had been intended to do. The damage caught his thigh, curving up towards his buttock in his ascent. She was fast, he expected her to be, at least much more than he was anyway. Smart too, to use it against him, just as he had used his size and muscle against her.
The wound was fair, a hoof-sized, crescent shaped mark had sloughed off the top layers of skin. This left a red moon threatening to bleed but not holding the strength to break through that last barrier. If she was lucky, perhaps she would be privileged to lay claim to one of the many faint scars that riddled his muddy coat. Otherwise, he was justly sore, and he set his jaw to work through the ache it brought him.
He turned to face her, holding himself aloft with a careful push and pull. Gravity only grabs at his haunch, tugging at his sore side and making him grunt with anger and annoyance. His eyes narrow and he is met with a sight he did not see coming. Though the traces of light that flickered across her frame burned with a scent all their own, there was no scent to associate with her flight. He has but a brief moment to even register the fact that she is in the air, her earthy form racing towards him. Somehow she was zooming through the winds without wings, something he associated with sorcery or witchcraft. Even with his Kingdom granted prize, he was wary of magic and all things that resulted from it.
The illumination that greets his glassy gaze is blinding. A full force radiance that causes him to (without thinking) pull his left wing across his face. A temporary answer to shade his eyes, colors dance across his closed lids in reds and yellows, patterns forming from the intrusion. His make-shift shield does not come without incident. Now no longer using both scaled appendages to support his hefty weight, he falls away from her towards the earth. The bay bypasses the blast of wind that whistles past where he had been only a moment before. A shaking, rocking horse descent ensues before he can recall that he does in fact have wings, and he might do well to use them.
He brings his right wing in, tucking it to his side as he follows suit with his left, taking the appendage away from his face and pulling it towards his barrel. His head pointing down, he propels himself groundward and away, cutting his own path through the breeze. Spinning and spinning, creating a vortex of wind in his wake as he corrects his graceless fall. He lays a trap of his own. Hoping the pull is just enough to suck the female into his current, he releases himself from the fall, spreading reptilian flight tools to create his own personal parachute. Catching the updraft, the gust sends him rocketing upwards away from his cyclone winds to watch the world fall away.
Again, he must drive his berth in to damage her, not wanting to rely on the earth for his assaults. His back leg was far too sore and bruised to effectively hold his weight for a ground attack. Besides, carrying the weight of his leg against the Earth’s gravity was strain enough. When he finds her this time he strikes out with his uninjured front legs, aiming for her cannons.
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wind tunnel is 1st attack/counter- kick is 2nd attack
RE: oh Killdare, dear - Joscelin - 09-06-2015
<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Alegreya|Poiret One' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><style>#josc3{background:url('http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v299/insane43/mikanicole-deviantart-bg_zpsdtw9qpsx.jpg');background-size:600px;width:600px;border:#151412 1px solid;box-shadow:0px 0px 10px #151412;padding:0px;}#josc3pic{width:600px;z-index:0;position:relative;margin-top:0px;}#josc3box{width:550px;background-color:#3f4660;border:#151412 1px inset;opacity:0.8;z-index:1;position:relative;margin-top:-60px;margin-bottom:25px;}#josc3words{width:540px;color:#000000;font-family: 'Alegreya', serif;font-size:14px;}#josc3name{color:#f7f6f4;font-family: 'Poiret One', sans-serif;font-size:40px;text-transform:uppercase;margin-bottom:0px;margin-top:0px;}#josc3quote{color:#f7f6f4;font-family: 'Poiret One', sans-serif;font-size:12px;text-transform:uppercase;font-style:italic;}#josc3quote2{color:#000000;font-family: 'Alegreya', serif;font-size:14px;font-style:italic;margin-bottom:5px;margin-top:-8px;}</style><center><div id="josc3"><div id="josc3pic"><img width="600px" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v299/insane43/mikanicole-deviantart_zpsdwryaalu.png"></div><div id="josc3box"><p id="josc3quote">There's a song in your lung and a dream in your eye.</p><p align="justify" id="josc3words">In retrospect, she is grateful her second attack had failed. Even as she sails over his back, the tips of her hooves just missing him as he falls away, wing shielding his eye, she knows the attack hadn’t been well planned. She has the advantage in the air. Therefore, it would behoove her to keep him there. Where he must use his massive wings to keep him aloft, she need only think of flight to keep herself in the air. Much like one might tell their leg to lift so that they can take a step, she need only tell her body to fly and she is in air. And correspondingly, in order to turn, stop, or land, the same process applies. It gives her an edge and maneuverability in flight that most would not have.
Slowing her sideways flight, she glances back, searching for the bay stallion. He has dropped lower in the sky, wings beating rhythmically as he flies in tight circles. She drops swiftly, preparing to make another attack when she realizes what he is attempting to do. The turbulence of his hastily created vortex buffets her as he shoots heavenward. Had she wings, the chaotic wind likely would have caught her, sending her spinning. As it is, the gale tugs at her, whipping her dark locks against her, stinging her flesh. Fortunately the wind does not send her into a tail spin as he had likely hoped, instead merely spitting her out the side of the rapidly dying cyclone.
Her disorientation is brief, quickly allowing her to shoot up into the sky to follow him. He is already coming for her, intent upon his own attack. Rather than avoiding him, she meets the attack head on. As his front limbs tangle with hers, hooves scraping against the skin of her cannons and fetlocks, she stretches her neck forward, head tipping sideways as her blunt teeth snap at his head. She aims for his eyes (as well as she can aim, at least). Even knowing that her teeth are largely rather useless in a fight, if she can get lucky enough to get his eye, she could actually do some damage. It is more likely that he would jerk his head upwards, but if she could get his nose, she might have a chance of doing some damage there and restricting his breathing. Or, given how difficult actually hitting her target would be, she could scrape her teeth against somewhere completely unimportant, at best leaving an abrasion that <i>might</i> bleed. Still, some chance is better than none, considering the attack had been driven purely by proximity and opportunity.
Untangling her legs roughly from his, she shoots upwards swiftly, drawing on all of her speed and maneuverability to outstrip him. Her right leg is sore, a thin trickle of blood running down from a shallow wound where a jagged edge of his hoof had caught. It is a surface wound only though, on her cannon just above her fetlock. There is no muscle there to damage, and fortunately he had not severed the tendon that lies beneath the skin. Extending her leg might be an issue for a few days, but she is fairly certain it will heal without issue.
She does not wait before executing her next attack. Glancing below her to find Killdare, she drops swiftly from the sky. She aims directly for his backside, her powerful rear legs drawn up until she is only feet from him. Using her weight and momentum against him, she kicks her rear limbs downwards, muscles adding to the force of her attack. Really any place her feet might hit would work for her. The back is sensitive, the muscles radiating from the back, neck, and rump responsible for controlling many other portions of the body. Her attack could, if successful, severely limit his mobility. Adversely, she could hit either one of his wings. While less damaging overall, it would still not be a total loss as his flight would be impaired.</p><p id="josc3name">Joscelin</p><p id="josc3quote2">Tiphon x Elysteria</p></div></div><font size="1" color="#000000">html c insane | picture c mikanicole.deviantart.com</font></center>
RE: oh Killdare, dear - Kyra - 09-11-2015
Winner: Joscelin
Overall, Joscelin's attacks and intentions were clearer