something somewhere out there keeps calling
SEEKING RAKUEN
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Ambrosia [introduction]
Darcias [introduction, attacks]
Ambrosia [attacks, defense]
Darcias [attacks, defense]
Ambrosia [attacks, defense]
Darcias [defense, conclusion]
In his birth land, Darcia and the others had been forced to combat with one another at ripe ages. Blood was poured from fresh wounds every waking moment, painting wilting roses scarlet. When the adolescent years came around, the sickness and disapproval began to poke the dark varg in the back of his mind, constantly prodding him with moral inquiries. Whether something was indeed right or wrong. This had been something new—he’d never been concerned with it before… and frankly, he knew not how to handle such thought processes. Around this time, Darcia was introduced to a character with a key role in his life story—Iason. The stupid white wolf became a form of competition for the testosterone-filled adolescent. He was something to be overtaken and surpassed, at all costs. Their own sort of battle ensued, though it was not a violent one. Instead, it was one of wits and guts. Soon (and most unfortunately) the time came when the two were pitted against one another, as was custom of such a wretched pack—to find the strongest among their squires, to turn them into knights. The two had grown, through their constant striving to one up the other, to be close as blood brothers would be. But, as fate would have it, the night before their confrontation, the two fell into an argument that resulted in them turning their backs upon one another. Sure they had spoken about escaping many times. Like a battle plan, they had gone through each flaw in this escape arrangement and perfected each one of them. There was nothing that could surprise them, nothing that could stop them from achieving their one goal: to be free of the monstrous hands of their birth clan. Thinking back now, Darcia was not ashamed to admit that he was lucky. Lucky to have not been torn apart by that brother of his. The two were equal in strength and brains—each worthy opponents for one another. The duo, who had agreed to escaping the Hell they had been forced into, nearly killed each other in their fight. As they both fell to the dust at their feet, an agreement was made without words. No conflict was worth the blood spilled that day. And they only had to exchange looks for a mere second, as close friends are known to do, to come to such a conclusion without actually sharing dialogue.
Darcia and Iason had feigned the inability to fight on. Their sides had heaved with effort, their eyes rolled towards one another and growls ensued between the two. Half-assed growls that meant nothing to them, but apparently fooled the idiots who pit them against one another. Darcia’s memory was fuzzy from then on. Perhaps Iason knew the exact details as to how the brothers managed to escape oppression’s grasp in just one night. But there was one thing Darcia was absolutely sure of and that was this: they soared like archangels through the darkness that night. Side by side, pacing each other, fighting through the weight of exhaustion and ignoring the salt that was poured into their open wounds. Both now carried scars that were given as gifts from the other. Darcia’s aud had been torn pretty badly… and Iason still boasted about having the ability to grab the lord against all odds. The ass. If steps raised saplings with each imprint upon the earth's surface, then Darcia would be responsible for the return of all the trees the two legged monsters had annihilated. Deforestation would no longer be a problem considered by the petty beings and the oxygen levels would rejuvenate themselves, heighten to extraordinary levels. And all because this world had been travelled by the beast and his mirror. And what had he come upon? Some kind of safe haven for terrorists, pacifists and naive imbeciles alike. A place that could nurture the duo-- bring them back to their feet, and even, perhaps, strengthen them. Strengthen them in ways that they had not been exposed to before; not just physical, but mental. The ability to deal with the past, learn from it, and move away from it, never looking back over their shoulders to take a fleeting glance at it.
Darcia. Though not exactly in his prime, the hessain was close enough to it to be at least acknowledged. And the mistress that had greeted at the borders was sure to do such a thing. Her emerald gems fell over his silhouette, taking him in. His own duo-tone gaze followed hers, watching as she sized him up. A brow raised when she moved towards him so... idiotically. He was taken aback at her outright attitude towards him... but what could Darcia do or say? Not only had he been the one who had challenged, it was also his fault for being so innocent in the ways of a world other than the one he'd been stuck in. She smirked at him-- confident miss...what a shame that you are gambling your lovely appearance. Never in his life had Darcia seen or even spoken to a female, much less been spoken to. And her words, though sassy, made him curious about such creatures. How dainty they were, with more thin appearances and defined palette features; yet they too had different backgrounds and personalities. Not all were like the breeding stock kept by Iason and his' previous regal. The little man slut had kept a fucking harem at his side. Disgusting. Darcia's pupils dilated as the woman brushed up against him, letting her hairs intermingle with his own. Darcia dipped his dial and began to turn to follow her, unaffected by her words, but knowing that he should let her finish before speaking his own. I do not wish to ruin such a handsome face. Darcia let his own smirk fall upon his kissers and he merely flicked his tassel to her lyrics, honeyed though surely poisoned beneath. He felt that a temptress should not hold such a face and display such animosity if she was going to accept tussling with him. She left him behind, and he followed quickly, not willing to give up just because he could not find the meeting spot-- which turned out to be an area that was cloaked in the scent of spilled blood from years and years past. It was wretched. And the dark brujo fought the urge to regurgitate his innards with all his might. Blood, though an intimate partner of his, was something he detested and loved at the same time. Such mixed feelings boiled through his own veins, but it brought no adrenaline with it. Why should his heart beat when there was no reason for it to? He was not fighting for his life here. He was fighting for power. For the envy of others and disgusting lusts of mongrels.
But for Darcia, it was neither glory nor fame that drove him. He was doing it for Iason. He was doing it for himself. And soon, the regal of that bloody, sick pack, would know exactly what happened to the two escapees that had disappeared together despite being enemies in the arena. Soon crows would call the name of the whore who bred merely for the fun of it, and pushed others into darkness so that he may increase his gain. Soon heaven would be reached. Death would come slowly on that day. But for a purpose that would change the lievs of so many, and save the lives of many many more. Darcia needed this power. Iason needed this power. Did this female who stood, ready for his attack need it to breathe? He pondered at this, wondering just why she had it in the first place. And then he rolled his shoulders back. Ah—no matter. Whatever and whoever was not included in on his goal… on his rise to freedom… in his search for the perfect Paradise… they did not matter to him. She was an obstacle as of right now. Though he cared for her safety, as a male always should, he could not feel compassion for her. A sacrifice… her home would be a step in a noble direction in order to free his own. And this was all Darcia truly cared about. Call it Valor, call it Nobility, call it Greed. Call it whatever you like. Others opinions would not change the way that Darcia’s mind worked… and it would certainly not change his goals. Nothing could persuade him after he had already committed to a promise.
The demon stepped into the clearing that the dark valkyrie had chosen as the grounds for fighting… and he assessed his surroundings. Sweet time was taken as he did this. The lady had been sitting when he came close enough to find that it was indeed her frame that was drawn out against the treeline. And Darcia was not of the hasty kind. He would do as he so pleased, when he wanted to do it. A yellow and hoarfrost orb turned to face the female, watching as she moved herself so that she was standing upright. Alas, such a viper cannot hide her true colors—she was indeed a fighter, and he could see it without having to feel it beforehand. Talons gripped the world tightly, as if the titan was full of unnecessary fear—fear that he would fall right off the orb if he did not give gravity the will to keep hold of him. Not a word had escaped his lips the whole time. He would not taunt her or excite her already bristling physique. That would be callous on his part. As soon as he had taken enough time to look around and he had assured himself that his dear seductress would not let him fall from the face of the planet if he let her go… Darcia broke into a steady run, barreling towards the woman as a train does a damsel on the tracks. At the last moment, he sped up, using the extra energy from his hinds to his will. He turned slightly on the last step, using his left shoulder as a battering ram. If this first attack hit this girl fully, she would be knocked off her feet, the wind would escape the prison of her lungs and that collar bone of hers would receive a definite crack. If she half-heartedly dodged this movement, her collar bone would be more bruised than ruined. The wind would still be taken from her and her balance would be thrown off. Such events would be in perfect alignment with the seductive ways of his second attack, which was carried out not moments after the first took place. No hesitation… even if she dodged his attack, he would be swift enough and close enough to entertain her with the second one.
Turning his dial slightly to the left his mug opened, revealing ebony lined razors. If she took this one straight on, the ridge of her sensory unit would be ensnared, caught in his own trap. Should she indeed take this one, she would have trouble breathing blood through her nares, pain in her ridge and a nauseating headache would most likely spread between her eyes. Pain is such a strange thing… is it not? Should the charcoal miss with the fervent gaze try to dodge halfly, his teeth would still inflict damage lower on her features. Her lower jaw bone will be taken advantage of, and his teeth will scrape over those lips of hers, ripe for the taking. They will find the groove where the lips part, and he will seize his way around them. Should he clamp on her lower jaw, she would surely have trouble biting. Attacks from that cute little mouth would be, he expected, lowered by half their animosity. And if she dodged completely… well he would just have to wait. With his move done, he readied himself for the brutality of a red Queen to show itself. The battle had just begun.
Damage: none taken yet.
Half dodges: 0/2
Full dodges: 0/1
Full Hit: 0/1
Attack Summary: Max of attacking twice per post. 2/2
1. Runs towards and collides with foe straight forwards. If attack hits, his left shoulder will collide with her chest. Full hit: knock her off her feet, knock the wind out of her and severely bruise/crack collar bone. If a half dodge is taken, collar bone damage will be minimal—small bruise...the impact should still be able to throw some wind from her and balance will surely be affected. If a full dodge is used, the attack will have just been a reason to get close to the rival.
2. Second attack happens right after Darcia is close/ first attack has been made. If his first attack hits in any way, his head will be in position to merely turn to the side and catch the ridge of her nose with his mouth with the ability to clamp down. If full hit is taken here, precious cartilage could be damaged severely, blood will seep down her nares and the pain will most likely be the cause of an ensuing headache. If a half dodge is used, his attack will hit lower—Scrapes from his teeth and damage to lower jaw (though such damage will not be as powerful as attack to crook of nose). This damage to lower jaw will consist of him grabbing that bone of hers and clamping down on it as much as he can (only half of jaw will be affected). If full dodge is used, no damage will occur.
darcia
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