In her youth, Oizys made a habit out of looking for trouble. She'd seek it anywhere she possibly could and would feed off its thrills like a scavenging predator - the more dangerous, the better. Now, however, she is older and wiser. She does not seek peril for the simple sake of doing so, nor does she hunt it down and fling herself into it with the reckless abandon of her formative months.
These facts make it all the more ironic that the gargoyle is currently being chased through the forest by a giant wild dragon, something she'd never managed even during the most danger-friendly days of her childhood.
Well, she certainly isn't completely blameless for the jeopardy of her current situation. She did, after all, attempt to take the dragon's blood to store in her vials, having found it slumbering upon the forest floor and simply needing to take the opportunity presented to her. It had all been going so well - she'd managed to pierce the skin of one delicate ankle where the scales were thinner, and had collected almost a full bottle when the dragon woke up. Evidently surprised by the fact its attacker was a tasty horse rather than an irritating gnat, the dragon had afforded Oizys a precious few seconds to gain a head-start before it blinked its sleep-bleary eyes and charged after her.
The dragon is huge, far bigger than the stunted creatures she'd seen bonded to Helovian equines. Whilst Oizys must weave through the trees and ferns, the dragon simply barges through them with a cacophony of snaps and cracks, and the mare's grey hide is soon lathered with sweat from her headlong run. "Shit...shit....shit," she gasps through haggard breaths, turning sharply to her right in an attempt to zigzag away from the beast's snapping jaws. Ker is nowhere to be seen; Oizys is entirely alone against the rampaging threat behind her. She has enough of the dragon's blood to be able to transform into a replica of it, but one of the Rift's many nasty little surprises is the fact that her transformations are no longer instantaneous. By the time she could assume her dragon form, she'd already be dead.
Her only hope is to keep running and pray that some semblance of a plan begins to emerge.
NO WEALTH, NO LAND, NO SILVER, NO GOLD
NOTHING SATISFIES ME BUT YOUR SOUL
image: the amazing skylark <3
OOC: For her trial, 'get bitten by a dragon' :D Gonna post once with the Rift Havoc account then open it up!
The dragon is angry. She is a nesting queen, her strength sapped by the hours she spends sitting upon her eggs, and her nap on the forest floor had been an impromptu attempt to gain some respite from incubation. She does not appreciate having her precious slumber disturbed by some fetid unicorn stealing her royal blood, and she is quite determined that this idiot filly will be dragged back screaming to her nest to be fed to her hatchlings.
The queen is a corrupted dragon of the Rift; her scales would be golden if it wasn't for the coat of slime and grime that turns them into a muddy brown hue. Spines erupt from her body at odd, painful angles, and it is a small mercy for the grey mare that she cannot breathe fire, only gruesome toxins that she cultivates from eating the Rift's corrupted prey. She has not eaten for days, though, and thus cannot blast a wave of flesh-corroding poison onto this idiot animal. It will have to be chased on foot, and the queen is certainly large and strong enough to trample any piece of forest that gets in her way.
The mare darts sharply to her right in an attempt to escape - how cute - and whilst the queen's enormous size makes her less agile than her prey, her long neck allows her to snap towards the unicorn even whilst her colossal body is in the process of turning. Her jaws gape wide, exposing strings of saliva and rows upon rows of hooked, serrated teeth; she bites towards the big, juicy rump of her prey, her tongue flickering forwards to taste the warm equine flesh.
She thinks she's succeeded; the dragon turns like a drunken whale, and for the first time Oizys can see clear daylight in front of her. Alas, she is not so fortunate. The creature's foul jaws swing towards her, and there's nothing the gargoyle can do as the savage teeth hook deep into the flesh of her backside. An ungodly jowl of pain erupts from the mare as pain lances through her rump and up through her spine; whilst the dragon hasn't managed to tear a chunk of flesh free, it has still succeeded in planting a large, muscle-deep bite onto her, causing blood to cascade down her heaving flanks. The agony is exquisite, and Oizys staggers forwards like a stricken warship, limping, broken.
Running is no longer an option now. She's lost all her momentum, and the dragon has completed its turn to face her. With her chest thrusting in and out from her haggard, painful breaths, Oizys hobbles around to face her huge opponent, bracing her stocky legs against the forest floor as she stares death in the eye. What a way to go - eaten by a dragon. The gargoyle is actually rather surprised that the beast hasn't immolated her yet, but perhaps the Rift's dragons cannot breathe fire as Helovian ones could. It doesn't make a great deal of difference really. Getting ripped into small, tasty pieces or perhaps being swallowed alive - both options are equally as painful and unpleasant as a fiery death.
Not that the scarred bitch intends to give up quite so easily. She's survived worse than this - this dragon would quake if it was to ever meet Oizys's father, and she'd survived him.
"Bring it, then!" she bellows up at the dragon. If she's going to die, then she'll do so fighting. She lunges forwards with all the strength she can muster, plunging her horns towards the creature's right foreleg - if she can disable a leg, perhaps she can slow the dragon down enough to allow her to flee.
NO WEALTH, NO LAND, NO SILVER, NO GOLD
NOTHING SATISFIES ME BUT YOUR SOUL
02-25-2018, 09:59 PM (This post was last modified: 02-25-2018, 10:06 PM by Roscorro.)
Roscorro
The dragon-kin had never seen a living being that shared his blood before. Never witnessed the power and might of a full fledged dragon as it demolished an entire forest that lay before it. All to get to one horse. Neither mare nor dragon took note of his presence as they barreled through the forest, leaving the stallion a moment to gawk at the staggering form of the female dragon. The first of his pureblooded kind that he had ever seen. The blood within him stirred, heated as the voice within him gave a hiss. Not a purr of pleasure at seeing its own kind, and a female to boot. But a guttural sound of discussed upon seeing the corrupted form of its regal kinsman.
The stallion paid the presence no mind as he launched his form forward, his massive body reaching full speed within a handful of strides. He did not hear it egg him on, telling him to tear down the corrupted insult to his race and render her no more than a broken body upon the earth. He only heard the blood pounding in his ears as he rushed to the aid of the valiant mare. Neither one noticed him still. His bulk plowing through the growth much like the dragon before him, smoke streaming off of him as fire seemed to consume his very being. His cloak and armor were devoured by the smoke and flame as the fury of battle overtook him until he took on the appearance of a fiery hell-cloud in the shape his tribrid visage.
He cared no how large the dragoness was, only that he needed to help his fellow horse as he charged towards the battle. A terrible, mutated cry escaped the stallion's lips a second before he attempted to ram into his target. A mangle mash up of a horse's scream and draconic roar. If he connected he would slam into the side of the dragon queen, just below where her ribcage ended. His large horns and spines brandished to try and pierce her tender underbelly as he drove further with his shoulder to attempt to throw her off balance with his surprise. With the force he had just slammed her with, he had to have at least knocked the breath out of the female, perhaps long enough to allow the mare to make a get away.
At least he would have gotten the dragon's attention before unfurling his massive wings and leaping away with a powerful downward thrust. He had no desire to be so close to those teeth or claws. His own talons ripped deep gouges in the earth as he landed upon the ground out of reach of those fangs, the force of his leap back sending him sliding to a halt in the soft soil. His tail thrashed angrily, brandishing the mace upon its tip as the smoke and flame that had consumed his body temporally dissipated to reveal his true form.
Canines bared, ears pinned back the stallion struck a menacing figure as he challenged the dragoness who dwarfed even his massive frame with her bulk. His heart slammed against his ribcage as the fuel of battle pounded through his veins, instilling a terrifying calm and clearness of mind upon the brute as he stared his opponent down. Had anyone that known the peaceful Clydesdale seen him striking such a fierce figure, they would be quite shocked to feel the serious fury that flowed off of him like the thick smoke that billowed around him. Determined to protect the mare, he had dawned a completely different side of himself as he tried to appear every bit as threatening as the dragon. His friends might have thought it rather comical in the end, him being fierce and menacing, if he lived long enough to tell the tale.
talk talk talk talk
In your hands, there's a touch that can heal
But in those same hands, is the power to kill
Are you a man, or a monster?
ooc: Rosco plowed into the side of the dragon, just below the ribcage to try and drive her off balance and force the air out of her lungs. He is enveloped in flame and smoke due to his vanity magic that takes effect when he is angered. So he appears to be a ragging cloud of flame and smoke in the form of the spikey, dragon-horse that he is.
You have my permission to use magic/force against Roscorro.
Maiming and killing is not allowed, though.
In the distance she hears a scream; it is a familiar cry, the battlecry of her raptor companion. Ker swoops from the canopy with a fearsome howl, her talons and beak slicing towards the dragoness' delicate eyes. Oizys feels a cold spasm of pride at the eagle's appearance, although she intends to have a stern word with Ker about her tardiness.
The gargoyle herself rears up, wincing at the spasm of pain through her ripped hindquarters. She seeks to strike at the knees of the creature with her powerful front hooves, hoping to disable one of the great limbs. She is not optimistic, though; the dragon is like an armoured tank, and Oizys is already badly injured. She needs help, she needs an ally, she needs a saviour.
As though summoned by her fear, a vaguely horse-shaped ball of flame and rage suddenly slams into the dragon's side. Oizys stops mid-attack, startled at this slice of luck and wondering who exactly her knight in shining fire is - he can't be anyone who knows her, because no Helovian would bother their ass to save snarky, sassy, resting-bitch-face-Oizys. Either way, the mare is immensely grateful, but equally she knows that this battle is far from won.
She reaches deep down for her magic and summons a dragon made of electricity, which she instructs to fly towards the real dragon's face. An eruption of pain blasts across her body and she bellows her displeasure at the realisation that it's her own magic working against her, corrupted by the wickedness of the Rift. Still, she hopes that a combination of Ker's and her own attacks as well as the flame-shrouded stranger will be able to drive away this massive demon, or at least cause her to rethink her plan to dine upon horse today.
NO WEALTH, NO LAND, NO SILVER, NO GOLD
NOTHING SATISFIES ME BUT YOUR SOUL
image: the amazing skylark <3
I'll post again with the dragon now, just wanted to squeeze another Ozzy post in first :D
She gouges into the mare's skin, but it is not nearly enough - she hungers for the whole thing, the bones, fat, gristle and meat of this foolhardy horse. The pitiful creature rears up, slamming her hooves against the queen's knees, but this is more of an annoyance than a pain. The dragoness swipes a dismissive foreleg, hoping to send the mare flying.
But ah, what's this? Coming towards her face is a brown feathered bundle of claws and beak, and the queen unleashes a savage snarl as the eagle dives towards her eyes. She ducks her head to deflect the blows onto her armoured forehead, knowing that if she is blinded, neither she nor her hatchlings will survive. She rams her eyes shut just in case, relying on her immense sense of smell to detect the eagle's whereabouts and aim a savage bite towards it, attempting to swallow it whole.
Suddenly, she feels an explosion of pain in her side, and despite her great size she staggers sideways with the impact. Her massive wings unfurl and she blindly swipes one of their clawed ends towards this unknown assailant, trying to gouge viciously at any part of him that she can reach. How dare he strike her! How dare he try and deter her from her prey! She opens her eyes, twisting her massive frame to try and face this flame-covered stallion instead, yet the eagle will not desist its pecking and she is forced to jam her eyelids shut once again.
There's a sizzling blast of pain upon her muzzle as the mare's spark-dragon strikes her, and an ungodly howl of agony erupts from her gaping jaws as the electricity sizzles through her. She swings her huge tail, uprooting several trees and creating a massive furrow in the forest floor, and rears back onto her hindlegs with a ground-shaking roar. Oh, how she wishes to rip into both of these idiot horses; tear them into chunks of flesh to feed her babies! Yet the dragoness is no fool; she is a mother, and she cannot take any risks. With her eyes forced shut by the eagle's incessant blows, even one of her monstrous size is vulnerable to a blow that could injure her enough to make hunting difficult, and thus inhibit her ability to care for her offspring. A broken bone or a pecked-out eye could be catastrophic for her hatchlings, and it is not a risk she is willing to take.
Burning with rage and with her pride thoroughly dented by the thought of giving up, the queen bunches her massive hindquarters and lunges into the sky with one swoop of her great wings. Those stupid equines will live another day, although at least she has taken a chunk of the grey one with her, and the queen never forgets a face - she'll enact her revenge on this pair one day. She leaves the forest as a mere speck behind her, with nothing but some trampled ground and ruined trees to prove she was ever there.
As he leaped away, claws followed. Their massive size easily dwarfing his own talons as they shot towards his face. He reared back further trying to avoid the blow that would surely rip his entire face of if it hit. Heart pounded he landed, the leaves and dirt flying as he slid backwards from the force of his own momentum. The feeling of blood oozing down his soft chin and nose caused him to snort, the adrenaline so far hiding the pain. The cuts were small, having only been hit by the tips of her two longest claws. But the fact that she had hurt him sent that dark flame roaring. The dragon within him burned to fight, enraged at being touched by what it saw as an inferior being. Funny when it resided with a creature it constantly sought to cut down and destroy due to his lack of worthiness.
That anger supplied the flame and smoke that swirled and burned around Roscorro as he thrashed his hairy dragonic tail, the masse beating against the ground and slamming against a tree, breaking the bark with a loud crack. He watched the giant dragon as it was assaulted by the eagle and magic, looking for on opening. Despite the anger that flared in his gut from the voice, he himself was calm, beating the emotion down with cool waves of determination. There was no way he was going to lose control and throw himself at this giant dragon, simply because the voice did not like the sight of this corrupted being. That was plain suicide. His own talons dug into the earth as his muscles tensed, like coiled springs, ready to charge forward again, or dodge of need be. But as quickly as the battle had started, it ended. With a might swoop of her massive wings the female dragon departed. Roscorro blinked in surprise. That was it? They had won? He hadn't thought any of them were intimidating enough to cause a being of such size and fury to back off.
He watched her go, weary of a surprise attack from the heavens. But the sound of her heavy wingbeats faded into the distance. Still he listened, wanting to be sure that she was gone before turning his attention to the injure mare. Silence. It was all that enveloped them as the tide of battle ebbed. His blood still roared through his body, heart pounding against his chest from the influences of battle. His massive head turned from the sky towards the dark mare. He moved towards her, the flames and smoke dying down until it smoke merely trailed from his body upon moving. As it faded his true being was clearly seen. His massive, brown frame that moved across the land with surprising grace. The leather armor, adorned with small spikes on the shoulders to cause damage upon ramming another, hooked to a brown fur cloak that trailed down his back and flowed over his hindquarters. Holes within the cloak allowed for his many spines that protruded from his body along his back to stab through. Beneath the cloak a long, hairy tail appeared. The same as that of the dragon before, though it held a menacing metal mace at the end, secured by ringlets of leather that wrapped around his tail.
His wings remained folded at his side, shinning dimly as the like touched the orange feathers. Bringing out the hints of blue within them, making them appear to flicker like flame. His large head, covered in horns as sharp and deadly as the mare's, housed gentle eyes of grey. White and black hair from his forelock hung down over his face, the rest of his midnight colored mane tumbling down over his neck, swaying as he moved. Despite the mare's large size, he was still a good hand taller than her. With his scaled front limbs, like that of the dragon they had just fought, and impressive size he was truly a monstrosity. Though his being held no ill will upon it as he approached the mare and her companion. His smooth voice drifted from soft lips, stained the color of his own blood. "That was easier than expected. I thought for sure that we were dragon food." A smile touched his lips, revealing the fangs that lay inside before a frown of seriousness pulled them closed. "May I have a look at that?" He gestured toward her injury. He had come to a stop a respectful distance from the mare.
Though they had worked together to chase of the dragon, he was still unsure if she was the sort to accept help. For all he knew she could turn her horns upon him. Either because she was the type, or still overcome by the influences of battle. Plus, he wasn't the soften looking creature on the planet. His looks had a tendency to put people up in arms. Best be careful, and respectful of the mare and her eagle.
talk talk talk talk
In your hands, there's a touch that can heal
But in those same hands, is the power to kill
Are you a man, or a monster?
Solanis
