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Post by mariahwhy on Nov 15, 2014 15:34:25 GMT -5
Draw the LineA roleplay between mariahwhy's Tobias and hypnocampus's Ruaridh Say what you will about Cain, but he was a great speaker. Tobias could practically feel the excitement rippling through the gathered Bachelors as the pale stallion finished his speech. War was finally upon them, there was no going back anymore, and all those surrounding the youngling were just as ready as he was to get started. He was surprised, quite honestly, that he was being allowed to fight. He wasn't yet 17, but Cain had allowed those older youngling males to make their own choice: fight with the older stallions, or stay behind and help the mares and foals to gather supplies. The appaloosa didn't even consider the second option. In his mind he had been prepared to fight since the day Klaus first spoke of an impending battle. He had already been planning to sneak away from the mares, so Cain was just making his route to the battlefield easier (he admittedly respected the leader a little more for recognizing those like Tobias were old enough to make their own decision on the matter). Now the quietness of the crowd was quickly being replaced by a shuffle of activity. Mares and foals were heading off to begin rounding up supplies. As for the stallions, Cain had told them to pick sparring partners - giving them one last chance to sharpen their skills before meeting up with the Olde Herd. Tobias couldn't help but wonder if they should be wasting time with this - after all, the enemy could be on their way right now. And if you weren't ready at this point, you probably never would be. But even he recognized that it would be foolish to argue with Cain at this point. And after that ridiculous hike into the Riddle Mountains he could use a good duel. He turned, eyes scanning the crowd for a victim. Several stallions were already going at it. He even saw some Exiles, those smart enough to join the Bachelor cause, jumping into fights, though he sneered at the few Exile mares that he could see joining in - this was no task for a Brood. Turning away from them disgustedly, he continued searching. Should he pick a partner that would be easy to beat? Or one that would bring out his strengths? His red eyes landed on a fairly large (but not too large) stallion - or how about a challenge? Ruaridh? He was pretty sure that was the other's name. Certainly no Elite. It would be a fair fight, and one that he would take pride in winning. Lean, long legs carried Toby forward with a confidence much beyond his age and experience. Once he was sure that Ruaridh had spotted him he stopped, still a short distance away. "Hey, old man," he called. "How about it? You up for a fight?"
(Words: 480) |
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Post by hypnocampus on Nov 15, 2014 17:11:01 GMT -5
The marshes had been a place of solace for Ruaridh for many seasons. He sought the silty waters and stagnant pools at least once every few days, simply to hide from the reality of things. The marshes, their peat rich soils and flitting fire-flies, they were part of his fabric, a thread of his existence. So when the bellow of a call ripped through his silence like a white hot shard of lightning, he'd been woken from his dream-scape and had come back to earth with a tremendous thud. He had no real clue of where he had been called to, but the position was betrayed simply due to the hoards of others who clearly were answering the same call. Ru joined the throng, kicking up his heels and throwing his limbs forwards at that graceful, characteristic long-legged lope.
Getting there was the easy part. Listening to a 'rousing speech' was another thing entirely. Ok, so Cain had a way with words. He obviously injected excitement into each individual present with the carefully pieced together weaving of syllables he'd chosen. The atmosphere was, undeniably, electric. You could pluck the tension like a harp string, and the ground being churned by restless pacing was testament to that. Dozens of hooves were picked up in turn, and then slammed down into the mud in succession until it resembled oatmeal, and with every syllable the frenzy seemed to engorge to new intensity.
Ruaridh, though? He stood quietly. Merely surveying the raucous gathering with an air of disinterest through the two-toned veil of his forelock. Handy, really, seeing as his expression was bordering bored despite chiming in with the necessary cheer or groan as and when prompted by their glorious leader. He had to give him his dues, he'd slipped into the role very well, considering.
Then it happened:
"You must ALL select a sparring partner"
The gruff, monotone bellow that left the dread-locked stallion's lips was enough to bring a sarcastic roll to Ruaridh's eyes. Cain's voice was drowned by the sudden crescendo of cheering, and Ru could muster only a sidelong look at the Marwari's form, from beneath the generous shade of a furrowed brow.
You've got to be kidding me. He couldn't even begin to think of a worse use of resources.
He shook his head, releasing a hollow snort of a sigh before straightening up and glancing between the already dispersing crowd. He enjoyed sparring, who in their right mind wouldn't? Despite this, however, he couldn't help but feel that their energies could be better spent. Nonetheless, he took the time to make an appraisal of all present, but in doing so, found himself already the target of someone's interest. He smirked, tossing his head and sending the lengthy threads of his forelock into disarray.
"Ha. You're barely out of the womb..." He chuckled darkly, clearly somewhat amused as he stepped forwards with little effort. He picked a path straight towards the leopard spot, ears flicking between flattened and half pricked. Ru ducked a little in passing, aiming a nip against the pale colt's neck, but retracting it at the last minute-
"Let's see what you've got." He offered a somewhat lopsided curl of a smile, his brows raised in amusement.
Ruaridh smirked over his shoulder, thrashing the sparse length of his tail against his hind quarters as he made off at a trip-fall trot towards an open spot between various sparring matches.
//word count: 573
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Post by mariahwhy on Nov 15, 2014 21:43:39 GMT -5
"Barely out of the womb, perhaps, but further from the grave," was Tobias's quick retort, matching the other stallion's smirk. As he approached the youngling stood still, letting Ruaridh come to him. His red eyes never left the stallion's own turquoise ones. Never look away. It was in others eyes that you could see their weakness and their mind. However, Ruaridh's showed little. A strong indifference mixed with slight annoyance was all that he could read. Maybe this battle would be easier than he had thought. If the stallion's heart wasn't in to it, then how could he possibly hope to win?
Ruaridh drew close. Instead of stopping, as Tobias had expected, he drew alongside him and then passed. Head high, he kept the other in the corner of his vision, and in this way caught the quick duck towards him. Tobias instinctively drew his neck away, though he quickly realized by the others laugh that it had never been intended to make contact. A cheap shot! Tobias gritted his teeth, brows furrowing. He shot a quick kick out behind him, but as with Ruaridh's nip it was never meant to land. It was simply for show. His coltish temper was starting to take hold, and his muscles were tensing. He allowed the dun horse to walk away for a moment before whipping around.
Tobias leaped forward to catch up with the stallion, but chose a parallel path several lengths away. They were not friends, and he was not about to go for some casual jaunt alongside of him. He winded between other horses, keeping Ruaridh in his vision at all times. They passed several other sparring pairs, some friendly matches to stretch their legs, and others a bit more like theirs (or how he saw it, anyway) - bordering on an actual duel. Beneath his growing, unnecessary anger still sat the excitement that Cain had effectively placed there, now mixed with the thrill of a fight. It was a feeling that he had come to enjoy. It was years back that duels had gone from embarrassing defeats to stirring victories that lit a fire in his stomach. If someone could be beaten, then they deserved it. He had made himself stronger to overcome others, and therefore had the right to win. And that would be the case here. There was no fire that he could see in Ruaridh's eyes. Tobias wanted this win, and he would have it.
They quickly reached the small spot in almost the center of the crowd, right on a hillside. While Tobias' body drew to a stop, his legs kept moving, fidgeting beneath him. "Do you really think you can beat me?" he asked. It came across almost as a serious question, as if he were asking some precocious yearling whose safety he was worried about. He arched his spotted neck and made himself as tall as he could. He was not yet Ruaridh's height, but was close enough to not feel like a foolish foal. "I might not be as big as you, but I bet I'm twice as quick." He closed half the distance between them. Though he made no offensive move yet, his weight was shifting. His front hooves were light, carrying little of his weight, and his hindquarters bunched.
(Words: 548)
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Post by hypnocampus on Nov 16, 2014 11:34:42 GMT -5
This one certainly had a sharp tongue, Ru only hoped, for his sake, that the colt's mind was just as sharp. Being able to throw insult was clearly a talent, but being able to read another was something that, he found, came with years. Whilst he might have been 'closer to the grave' in the traditional sense, even he knew that, put a foot wrong and the grave may be what breaks your fall, in the end. He glanced around the close vicinity as he slowed to a toe dragged walk, huge plate-like hooves making dull, squelching thuds in the evening dew moistened ground. With a gentle snort, he slowly turned to face his competitor, ears reluctant to remain at rest for longer than an inhalation.
Being reactatory wasn't a quality that Ruaridh had ever shown. Beneath that laid back, nonchalant exterior lay a cold and calculating creature that festered, merely dormant. It would only take a little nudge to unleash it, but for now he remained firmly untelling, and entirely amused by each and every saccharine sweet phrase the colt delivered. He had a filthy temper, he could harbor grudges and had bested many. More often than not he'd given in to the throttling hands, and suffocating sear of resentment that boiled beneath his skin. What made Ruaridh dangerous was the 'indifference', and only naivety would take it as simply as that. Superficial examination of the situation could only lure others into a false sense of security, and whilst he never relied on it, he enjoyed goading. Ruaridh simply took pleasure in the little things, and if stoking the coals of an out of control fire was one of those things, then so be it.
If 'toy with and then destroy' was on the leopard's menu, Ru would take great pleasure in taking him down a few pegs. Ok, so whilst they weren't 'friends' as such, they shared a herd. The distrust that came from Ru abstaining from the mark would forever mean that other members would give him a radius of exclusion, he understood that. Fighting and potentially causing damage to a youngling simply due to his counterpart's unfounded arrogance? For the sake of training, now whilst that didn't sit very well- as the seconds drew into minutes, Ru felt it becoming more and more necessary to prove himself.
The distance between them had been closed, albeit tentatively. His left brow flinched higher, and he dug the toe of his right hoof deep into the dirt, and dragged it back, lowering his head ever so slightly but maintaining that necessary thread of eye contact. Each and every muscle bunched like a group of writhing serpents beneath the rich buttermilk hues of his coat.
"N'aww...Can't you see?" He purred gently- "I'm quaking." He uttered simply, ears pressed forwards as he shifted his weight on the spot. The gruff tones of his voice beheld nothing but a frozen sheen. Completely unfeeling. Entirely undemonstrative of what was reeling through that great headcase of his. He again, squared his broad shoulders in reciprocation and straightened his posture, the taut expanse of his rump gathered, and his sights set, unwavering, on the fidgeting youngling.
"You picked. Your move." How thoughtful. A slow-burn smile, complete with the shadows cast from a lowered brow resembled something more akin to a wound slowly opening and oozing. A man of few words, he busied himself with slowly snaking back and forth, carefully watching as he paced in a deliberate zigzag path.
//word count: 588
(ooc: ugh hope this is ok ._.)
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Post by mariahwhy on Nov 16, 2014 13:38:53 GMT -5
Tobias's eyes followed Ruaridh back and forth, side to side. He took this chance to truly size up his opponent. Tall, though not terribly so. About average for a Bachelor stallion. Muscular, but most of it seemed to be carried in his neck and shoulders. He would be heavier in the front, and that would be his weakness. Tobias would certainly have to try to steer clear of those front hooves. They were large, almost twice as large as his own, and they would pack a good deal of force behind them. He'd need to stay as much to his opponent's side as possible.
His white ears pinned flat against his skull at the older stallion's last words. A simpering smile settled on his muzzle. "How kind of you." His haunches rocked back and forth, with his front hooves barely tiptoeing in the softening ground. When the dun was just slightly to Tobias's left he jumped forward, teeth bared. He was a flash of spots. His front hooves landed alongside Ruaridh, and his neck snaked around. In the second before his back hooves landed he aimed a bite at the others soft flank. As soon as all hooves were on the ground though he was in the air again, springing sideways and away like a startled deer.
All four hooves hit the ground at once, jarring the appaloosa's body and causing him to momentarily become unbalanced. For a split second he lost his momentum, and his own miscalculation made him angry. Jaw tightening against the pain that shot through him, he grunted and threw his front end around to face Ruaridh once more. "Come on, old man," he called. "Do something!" The words came out almost as a growl, his anger at himself projecting towards the other stallion. The fact that this was supposed to be a friendly spar was far from his mind now. He did not even think that he should be saving some of his energy for the battlefield instead of expending it all on one of his own herd mates. Ruaridh had easily figured out how to push his buttons, and Tobias was falling for the horse's indifferent facade. He mind was becoming clouded by anger, and all that mattered to him now was proving that between Ruaridh and himself he was the tougher stallion.
(Words: 389)
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Post by hypnocampus on Nov 16, 2014 14:13:57 GMT -5
"Manners maketh man, after all." He nickered gently, inclining his features in an unwarranted and yet polite bow with his attention still adhered to the spotted male's. Forced perhaps, but delivered nonetheless.
The kid was dancing around like a ballerina, his slight frame gliding and hopping over grass and soil with little effort. He certainly had style. Grace and poise, speed and venom. Ru watched with carefully concealed amusement as the gauge of the youngling's irritation surged ever higher. Now, quite what he was expecting to happen as a result of his goading was beyond him, but his idle query was duly answered.
Air moved beside him. The decided lunge registered just a fraction later than he'd have liked. His ears flattened to the back of his skull, he gritted his teeth and he made to absorb the energy of the impact by digging his footing deep and bracing himself. His fore hooves slipped over the shallow grit and gravel beneath grass and mud as the force shoved him sideways.
His features screwed and contorted. The pinch of teeth to hide pulled a grunt of discomfort from his core, but as the ache subsided, and he felt the cold edges of teeth retract, he wheeled around on a sixpence and aimed the force of a hind pillar out at the retreating form of the colt. The unforgiving, sharp curve severing the fitful breeze like the blade of a scalpel.
"Bold..." He growled, glancing to the welt on his flank and quirking a brow. The smirk that followed was an unnecessary addition, but it garnished his white laced features, and sooty muzzle nonetheless.
The dun gathered his legs together, rearranged his stance with little effort. Ruaridh waited a mere exhalation between shaking himself off and using the power of his hind quarters to spin to face. He closed the gap between them. Advancing quickly Ru hoisted his weight onto stocky hind columns, and presented the wall of his chest. The hammering of his fore limbs, the heavy swiping action aimed his leading hoof at the side of the male's handsome features. He over balanced and brought his bulk back to earth with an audible, tangible thud.
Fluid movement and action were paramount. There was no rest, no pause. He ducked sideways, springing like a jack rabbit sending a cloud of clod out in his wake as he skidded, and he turned back to face him, ears flattened and eyes narrowed. Restless. Ready to throw himself back into the fray and meet the colt head on.
//word count: 426
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Post by mariahwhy on Nov 16, 2014 17:06:28 GMT -5
The look of satisfaction as Ruaridh turned to face him fused with Tobias's anger to create a crazed expression. His hollow smile didn't reach his wide eyes, and his ears were still back flat. They twisted around quickly in surprise, though, as the other stallion's large form suddenly surged towards him.
He didn't have time to react, and braced himself for the expected impact. Instead, the fjord mix only came uncomfortably close, his proximity forcing Tobias back onto his own hindquarters. He sat almost flat on his hocks as Ruaridh towered over him, the ever dimming evening light casting a severe shadow on the appaloosa. His head twisted up to follow the stallion's position, only to find that one of the large hooves was heading straight towards his face. A moment of panic tore through Tobias, his hide shivering as a chill raced through his veins. Closing his eyes he jerked his head back and threw himself to the side, simply trying to get out of the way of the falling hooves. With his momentum currently against him he wasn't quite fast enough, and a hoof caught him on the side of his cheek.
Darkness blanketed his vision for a split second, and a stinging sensation ran down his jaw. Champing his teeth and shaking his head he staggered to the side. He felt in his hooves the heaviness of Ruaridh coming back down to the ground, thankfully far enough away to give Tobias a moment to recover. After the immediate pain had subsided his head shot up, wild eyes searching, a small drop of blood falling from his cheek. Through a cloud of kicked up dust Ruaridh stood, once again across the small circle bounded by other horses preoccupied with their own opponents.
There was no longer time for banter or standing around. Tobias leaped forward again, not straight towards the other horse but off to the side. He took two bounding strides, and the third landed with all four feet close together. Shoulders tensing and neck lowering he gathered his weight to his front half, spinning at the same time. Once his back end was facing Ruaridh he threw his hind legs back, hoping to land a hoof on the other. Once, twice, he kicked out behind him, sharp hooves hoping to meet their target. The spotted horse looked around his shoulder, reassessing Ruaridh's position.
(Words: 397)
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Post by hypnocampus on Nov 24, 2014 13:41:00 GMT -5
The maniacal expression the colt wore prior to his being struck, seemed to have been dropped. Ru had the time, in the breath of a second between movements, to snatch a glimpse. A graze, and a generous bead of ruby red glistening as it snaked over pristine white, only to fall victim to gravity and drop to the ground. The droplet was followed by another, and another. The remorse that one might have felt was swiftly squashed within him, and what might have been a look of earnest in any other situation was replaced by a calculating grimace of a smile that darkened his normally gentle features. The sparse brush of his tail lashed angrily against his haunch as he spun on a sixpence to correct his position and ready himself for anything that might befall him.
Cries from other sparring groups, the movement of light and the lengthening of shadows around their fight circle drew his attention only for a fraction of a second, enough time for the colt to turn and rearrange his limbs nearly beneath him. Ru's blood ran cold, and the sudden thud of his heart against his chest was enough to bring his senses back to earth. Flattening his ears, he whirled around, pulling his bulk in a neat ring that exposed the broad musculature of his haunch to the sharp force of the leopard's hind hooves.
He grunted, gritting his teeth together, grinding the irregular surfaces of molars to their opponents as Tobias' toes dug deep and glanced, piercing through and tearing his hide a short distance before grazing against the rest. The sting registered as a flicker to his right eye, and a definite flattening of his ears. He sneered, snorting gruffly.
He shuffled, making small, calculated steps with his fore legs and re-balancing his weight with little hopping motions as he backed into the male's space. The split second it took to decide to accept the attack by absorption had landed him with a couple of lacerations that would only add to the tapestry of scars across his skin. He kept a wary eye on the pale stallion behind him.
Picking up the weight of his right hind, he swung it forwards, and then with great momentum- back, in a curt swipe, aiming for flank or even the tendon or bone of a leg as the other male landed from his backward assault. He rocked onto his front limbs only very slightly, enough that he might make several swift, hopefully well aimed jabs with his strong hind limbs and large, plate-like hooves. The warm butter scotch of his coat marred with sod, and the warm, metallic sheen of blood. Now was not the time to worry about appearance, clearly.
//word count: 457
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Post by mariahwhy on Nov 27, 2014 16:34:54 GMT -5
Toby felt the kicks land on his target, a feeling of satisfaction sweeping through him. But, with as well matched as he was with his partner, it would not last long. He felt his second backwards kick become largely impeded, the sudden jarring of force stopped mid-way. His momentum, suddenly stopped in his back legs, traveled forward, and he had to bring his back end down quickly so as not to topple over forward.
The two stallions were now practically butt-to-butt, and it made Tobias uncomfortable simply because he knew he could not attack this way. He was now on the defensive, and that was when your opponent had the upper hand. Even if he could manage an attack with his hind legs they would not have the power in them needed to make any sort of impact upon the larger stallion. But Ruaridh, more powerful and not taken by surprise by the sudden lack of space, was able to calculate a move. Tobias had turned his head around just in time to watch the hoof barely graze his skin. Had it been just another inch or two to the left the massive hoof would have hit him squarely on his left hock, and the young appaloosa could only imagine the damage it could have done. Had he been lucky and the joint not shattered completely he surely would have at least had a limp for the rest of his life. The brief moment of fear caused his stomach to drop, and his heart to skip a beat. He had to get away from the stallion's hind end. Before he could, though, Ruaridh had copied his previous move and shot a few more kicks backwards at him. They landed flat and powerful on his rump, creating immediate bruises instead of gashes. His nerves deadened momentarily and his back end dropped, only to be lifted with Ruaridh's next kick. Tobias allowed the other horse to push him forward, and out of range of the flying back hooves. Once his movement was all his own he skittered forward awkwardly, his rump muscles throbbing.
Splattered blood from his cheek was now drying across his front legs and chest, along with a light layer of foamy sweat. His ribs visually expanded and contracted as he tried to keep his breath steady, and his face was flushing pink under his white fur. Angrily swishing his tail he threw himself, rearing, back towards Ruaridh. Allowing his rage to block out the pain in his hindquarters he turned on his back hooves to half face the other. He then allowed himself to come crashing back down, shoulder thrown forward, hoping to land on the other and throw him off balance. His teeth were also bared, lunging at Ruaridh as he fell. He clamped his teeth together, jumping up once more in hopes to rip at or at least pull on the older stallion's skin. Several times he lashed forward, mouth open.
(Words: 494)
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Post by hypnocampus on Nov 28, 2014 10:18:59 GMT -5
Ru grimmaced. The colt could pack a punch, and it wasn't like Ruaridh had underestimated the youngling, far from it. The fire that burned deep in that boy's core would be fuel enough to insight pain, to cause damage. Indeed, he had, though the older stallion did well concealing his ails.
The sting and the dull ache that radiated from the various welts and bruises, the nips and the cuts surged like ripples across an otherwise still body of water. His blood ran like ice through his veins, and his rib cage heaved breath in and exhaled it in great snorts that dissipated as fine clouds of silvery mist rising from cavernous nostrils. The warmth of contact at his rump, and the tell tale crack of hoof to limb caused the great bulk of the sandy male to recoil away as a whiplash reaction. His jabs appeared to have landed where he had intended them to, or at least close enough together that they might slow the spotted critter down a fraction.
He stepped to the side, wound a path away like a snake through a dune, before he caught sight of the colt flying at him yet again. Throwing his might and his weight into an attack. He was valiant, Ru would give him that much. He had fire, and he, like Ru, wanted to perform to a level that best described his ability.
Foam and froth, blood and sod smeared across the expanse of his chest and forelegs, and he shook his great crest only to be taken off balance by the jab of a forward thrusted shoulder. His eyes widened, and he locked his joints to prevent further slipping, his hooves skidding through the barest of topsoil but his form braced haphazardly in reaction. He swung his head away, grunting as the sharp edges of incisors gripped a chunk of his neck in an iron clamp of determination. Ru made an attempt at jerking his head away, teeth bared and eyes rolling to expose the white of sclera.
He pawed at the ground, taking a curt stamp and a side swipe with his left fore in the hope of knocking the colt's center of balance ever so slightly, aiming to hook a leg, or give a forceful nudge. He tensed the muscles of his neck, and tossed his head, paying little heed to the damage that was being created by gnawing teeth, and forcibly ignoring the searing pain of tearing nerve endings and bruised blood vessels beneath his pelt. He twisted, crocodile like, and contorted his neck in such a way that may have allowed the sharp edges of voracious teeth to attempt snatching at the colt's shoulder, or wither- whatever champing jaws could reach.
//word count: 459
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