Author Topic: I Will Face God And Walk Backwards Into Hell [PRP]  (Read 1632 times)

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Offline Thresher.

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I Will Face God And Walk Backwards Into Hell [PRP]
« on: February 23, 2016, 11:44:35 PM »
OOC: You Know Who You Are~



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"If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle."
– Sun Tzu; The Art of War


The same man who said that quote also said: "The supreme art of war, is to subdue the enemy without fighting."  And that had to be the most absurd thing Thresher had ever heard.  There was psychological warfare, that much was true, but, the true grit of war was to fight.  To tear and rip into those that stood against you and yours, to shred the aspirations and dreams of those that threatened your life, your liberty, and your pursuit of happiness.

Of course Inaria really wasn't threatening Saboro with any of those things, in fact, it was the other way around.  Saboro was attacking Inaria with those very threats in mind.  Specifically, their lives.  There were no safe havens, no places to retreat to now, it was the brute force of Saboro against those who treasured peace and futility (or so he assumed).  Thresher had rushed forward with the others of the front lines, his molten eyes scanned the faces of those there to defend their homeland. 

None of which had yet to piss themselves, disappointing.  Still, there was still time to stain the ground red with blood instead.

Blood took longer to wash away. 

A crack of thunder and Thresher's orange eyes locked onto one target in particular.  Larger then him sure, but he was sure they were not as experienced-  not by a long shot.  Pupils dilated to mere pinpricks as he could feel his mouth begin to foam at the anticipation of the initial collision.  Legs shot him faster in the direction of the oddly colored wolf, almost as ridiculously colored as himself.  He was sure she'd blend in perfectly with the foliage as soon as he was done with her.  Brown, green, and red, a perfect array of colors to match the purple that was effing everywhere. 

He wasn't sure if she was paying attention to him as he charged towards her, he didn't care, all he cared about was how hard he collided with her, and getting his fangs into her. 

As he surged, his mind wandered back to the preparations for this war, and his chosen war name.  Fie Kutabare.  He could've chosen some crap that meant something, like feelings and crap, but no, he chose to use a name that literally meant "eff you" to those who said it.  He was oddly proud of his chosen war name, and was ready to make a name of it on the battle field. 

So he closed the gap between him and the mud puppy (Sage), bracing himself as he attempted to collide into the girl, and if that succeeded and she stumbled even slightly, Thresher would go directly for her face, aiming to grab the muzzle.  His goal was to grab her entire muzzle in his fangs and close them shut, making her unable to open them again.

If he failed the collision and she moved out of the way, in his passing he would attempt to get ahold of her flank as he passed it.  Wanting to latch on, and shake his head back and forth, tearing at the skin and muscle, and if he hit deep enough, the bone. 

If he failed in the muzzle grab, he'd still lunge for her face, attempting to get a bite of whatever he could.  A cheek, a nose, even an ear if he could reach it, he'd snap at whatever he could get.  He would maul her, maul her face until there was nothing left of it.  No eyes, no recognizable features, nothing. 

Then he'd do her the one favor he wouldn't mind doing- putting her out of her misery. 
« Last Edit: March 01, 2016, 11:26:17 PM by Thresher. »






All that I see is the wickedness around me

I refuse to believe the apocalypse inside of me

I can't even trust myself

I'm burning in my skin

Standing at the gates of hell

But nobody will let me in



Offline Sage

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Re: I Will Face God And Walk Backwards Into Hell [PRP]
« Reply #1 on: February 24, 2016, 07:13:14 PM »
Deep inside herself, Sage had always known the beast she'd been bred to be. The Jacana were, by their very nature, born to protect Inaria and serve as soldiers. Not all of them chose that path, once Ghost had ascended to the throne as King after his mother, having been granted a choice that hadn't existed before then.

But she was different.

From a young age, she saw injustices and wanted to correct them, but perhaps the nobility of the cause, the grandeur of such ideas of fighting for your homeland and loved ones, had masked what it truly was to fight in a war. War. War hadn't just happened because of a disagreement, not really. No, it had come from somewhere that hadn't been a blip on the radar until the loudmouthed Cappella had returned from her time as a prisoner. Sage didn't fault the girl. She had to lead them back because where else did she have to go for help?

But as Sage stared blankly down at the enemy laying lifeless at her feet, his dead eyes wide and maw still gaping in silent snarl above a ripped out throat, she began to understand the ramifications of those actions and the ones that had followed, though perhaps she didn't understand why Saboro would want anything with quiet, peaceful Inaria.

Blood dripped from her jaws, the iron tang of it in her mouth and in her nose, darkening the brown on her chest as her sides heaved. Her fiery eyes couldn't seem to break away from her victim, no matter the pull and tug that told her he couldn't have been the only one out here. No, she should move and keep moving. Her sides heaved with the effort of getting enough air into her lungs. Find Ghost. Or Haven. Someone...her mind screamed and pulled and tugged and yet the green earth girl stood motionless as she came to truly know what war meant firsthand.

Death.

And so when the enemy attacked, she had been distracted, and it was only the fact that she'd trained since youth for this that she managed to sidle away enough to miss being hit broadside by the flame marked demon. With no momentum, however, she was unprepared to move away when vicious teeth ripped into her hind leg close to her hip, feeling the burn as he thrashed his head and jerked her around. Sage was taller, but this was not the untested and untried enemy she'd killed.

She shrieked wildly, and before he could do any significant damage, she was fighting him, ferociously aiming for his face, his neck, anything she could grab to try and force him to let go. Whatever she managed to find, if anything, was gnashed at, repeated biting and snapping to create the most hurt possible, especially if it was his face where there was minimal place to grab with any ease. Pain wracked her leg, and she yanked her hips away in an attempt to free herself if he refused to let go, even as she sought to hurt the one who was trying to tear her leg from her body.

(She is the one), but I have a purpose,
(She is the one), and I have to fight this,
(She is the one), the villain I can't knock down.

I see your face with every punch I take,
And every bone I break, it's all for you.
And my worst pains are words I cannot say,
Still I will always fight on for you.




#659D32
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Offline Haven

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Re: I Will Face God And Walk Backwards Into Hell [PRP]
« Reply #2 on: February 24, 2016, 08:14:13 PM »
The cool air was humid with damp screams, the scent of blood, gurgles in the throats of the dying. The din was its own hell, raucous and unearthly, babels from an unholy confusion. The smells too, god, the piss and the shattering of bone, the tatters of skin and fur.

The queen moved through the ocean of it, as though she had parted the sea with only the devotion of her righteous fury. She was calm against the waves of it, and unmoved. War washed over her but her wrath held her firm.

Her legs slammed into the earth as she ran, pounding up small patches of dirt with their momentum, but she moved with such purpose. This was what she had been bred and born and raised to do. She'd gone through so much suffering to be here, to defend her people.

She saw Sage as the fire-wolf, the enemy, tore into her flank and the queen turned on a dime, four powerful limbs snapping forward to change course and protect the girl. She hurtled towards Thresher, fury in her golden eyes and would attempt to slam against him with all her power, hopefully knocking him away from Sage. Her fangs would snap open, white and wet, ruthless in her pursuit.

Sage was a strong but untested girl, but Haven had seen dead bodies before, caused dead bodies before. There was no gag reflex, no hesitation, nothing but grim efficiency and cold hatred. She wouldn't be felled so easily.
« Last Edit: March 05, 2016, 07:52:29 PM by .Eve. »

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Offline Kashmir

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Re: I Will Face God And Walk Backwards Into Hell [PRP]
« Reply #3 on: February 24, 2016, 09:05:16 PM »
He'd parted from the paladin queen in their rush forth to meet the invaders, and he would reunite with her again only hours later, homing in like the night follows the day. Mayhem raged all around him, an unholy cacophony of snarling and whining and screaming and orders and pleas, a stench of blood-guts-vomit-rage-terror assaulting his nose and nearly maddening him, cat-gold eyes showing their whites in a rare moment of frenzy as he ran, darting fast and streamlined, close to the earth, tail scything out and teeth like knives sheathed in the gums.

It was not his goal to face any Saboro brute in an honorable one-on-one. That was not Kashmir's way. He was here to ambush, to blind a foe, to bite off their balls when they weren't looking, to push them into one of his pit traps or snares, to provide his crucial support to a gang of his familiars. Like a flag of gold, she drew his attention as he passed by sheer fortune into the area, attacking a burly male tearing into... Sage. One of his elites, back when he'd been captain. She bled all down her flank and he could hear her screaming from here, halfway across this field.

Kashmir advanced, an arrow in flight. He leapt over the body of a dead wolf on his way, never looking back, zeroed into this battle within a battle like a man possessed. Panicked by the violence, incensed by these foreign enemies in his home hurting his people desecrating the laND THE WATER THE ENTIRE effING KINGDOM, the lithe creature felt himself sliding rapidly down into an old skin, the abominable all-consuming coldness he'd walked in during every single one of his abandoned old hunts, and... this time, he embraced it without a struggle. Fell into it like a fever or a terrible dream.

The fire-wolf wasn't his twisted entertainment. He wasn't a dragon to slay. He was a nothing, a nobody, a crapty little roach nobody had squashed yet. All of them had to die, as quickly as possible. That was the way this worked.

As Sage lashed out for whatever she could reach, and Haven lunged to knock him sprawling, Kashmir ran in, actually dashing under Thresher, posed low like a coiled viper, and snaked out in an attempt to shred the thin webbed flesh that connected either hind leg to his groin. It would rob him of mobility, cause him excruciating pain, and hit or miss, the jackal would dart right back out before he could be grabbed in revenge, always taking care to stay behind the big wolf.

You should have stayed in your jungle, dead man.
« Last Edit: February 24, 2016, 09:10:04 PM by Kashmir »


Who loved, who suffer’d countless ills
Who battled for the True, the Just
Be blown about the desert dust
Or seal’d within the iron hills

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Offline Thresher.

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Re: I Will Face God And Walk Backwards Into Hell [PRP]
« Reply #4 on: March 01, 2016, 07:49:28 PM »
The initial rush, his attempt to splay into her failed, but the secondary attempt to dig his teeth into her flank did not.  Warm, red, ooziness, drained onto his palate, and eyes momentarily rolled back into his head.  It had been far too long since he'd tasted blood of an enemy, or even of another wolf.  And when she screamed- only more ecstasy could be produced.  But with that price of shrieking, always was followed by the wrath, his eyes caught the movement of her swinging around to meet him, and only then did he let go of her leg, and attempt to meet her face with his teeth.  His fangs aimed for her muzzle, but in that time, whether or not he was able to get a hold or not, he was barreled into, fangs snapping closed on air as he was sent skidding backwards. 

Thresher snarled as he skid backwards, and as he tried to regain his balance, his back right leg wouldn't support his weight, and a wave of pain overtook him.  He could feel the slicing pain underneath, the warm oozing of blood running down the inside of his leg down to the ground.  What the eff, how did that effing happen?  Didn't matter, all he knew was he couldn't move around as well now, and that was effing bullcrap.  Eyes locked onto the large golden wolf charging him now, and with a snarl of his own, teeth stained with the blood of the mud puppy, he'd meet the golden girl head to head, or rather, head to chest.

Thresher was smaller then the golden wolf, and so he'd attempt to barrel under her, pushing his body upwards as he got under her (if he got under her), and turn his head to try to tear into the soft unders, the belly, the sternum, anything that was exposed.  It would cause him some serious pain, as his back leg was beginning to shake, but he wanted to do so much damage to all of them.  All of them had to die. The adrenaline was pumping hard through his veins, so the pain wasn't nearly as much as it would be when they were done here.

eff this place and eff everyone that lived here, especially this yellow colored pain in the ass. 

If he wasn't able to get under her, barreling or otherwise, Thresher would simply thrash his head around.  Attempting to get a grab on whatever he could of her face, eyes, her muzzle, even a glancing blow.  Much like his pelt, there was a fire in his eyes and in his chest that grew with every lunge, every growl, every snarl, every blow.  His main goal had been to kill the mud puppy, but the fight he saw in this ones eyes was much more appealing, much more challenging.  He knew there were others around, the mud puppy, and the other who he hadn't seen, but felt.  What the eff was it with wars, and Thresher either losing, or almost losing his god damn ballsack.

At this moment in time, he put the thoughts of his ballsack, and the other two aside, so he could focus all his energy on this she-wolf. 

He'd be dealing out some damage today, and if it wasn't to more then one, he'd be happy with using all his energy on just this one.  Focus and energy into doing as much damage to her as possible.   






All that I see is the wickedness around me

I refuse to believe the apocalypse inside of me

I can't even trust myself

I'm burning in my skin

Standing at the gates of hell

But nobody will let me in



Offline Sage

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Re: I Will Face God And Walk Backwards Into Hell [PRP]
« Reply #5 on: March 01, 2016, 11:04:51 PM »
She almost fell, stumbling as she ripped her leg from his jaws as he turned those gleaming teeth on her face, even as she fought back. Teeth clattered together, an uncomfortable feeling, especially when the sharp fangs found purchase in the side of her muzzle, gouging shallowly, not quite enough to shred the flesh completely through, but blood dripped from her jaw in streams. The drops splattered on the ground, meeting the larger splashes where her leg was dripping heavily. Wrenching her head down and away, Sage growled and wound up to go again at the beast from hell's depths (was that brimstone she smelled?), when two familiar forms emerged and converged on the male, the enemy, with practiced skill. Sage staggered again, fiery eyes taking in the flash of gold that knocked the beast aside and away from her, the grey one that slid underneath and severed tendons with ease before Thresher could even register what happened.

And then she saw it, and every single instinct that had been both bred and pounded into her skull pushed her to react.

The pain in her leg was fire, and the world suddenly seemed to move in slow motion, but she felt a fire in her chest that drove her, a passion she hadn't really known existed in her until this moment. The desire, the drive to protect Haven, to protect Inaria...even at the cost of her own self.

Screaming agony in her leg and face was buried beneath the adrenaline in her system as the tall Jacana lunged forward, diving to plant herself in the path of the enemy who had set his sights on the golden Queen, her own teeth flying to grapple at his non-shredded ear, at his eyes, his neck even as some vague part of her mind registered the thick scruff as a protective layer there, even as his teeth found her flesh and blood once more. He rent deep gouges in her chest and shoulders, tearing away flesh with ease, but the pain was nothing something everything knowing that it had been her and not Inaria's warrior queen who suffered, not Kashmir, not one of the countless Inarians she called family.

Sage snarled again as the force of his attack, of his brown body lunging and shoving, knocked her forelegs out from under her, falling face first into the dirt. Dazed, she laid there, her head throbbing and her shredded legs crying out as she attempted to stand again. If Thresher didn't turn from her for interrupting his attacks on Haven, she'd do her best to stand and face him, even as two of her legs flailed weakly beneath her, her mind feeling detached and dizzy from blood loss. And if Haven and Kashmir managed to keep Thresher off of her, she'd find herself succumbing to the darkness that beckoned softly.



[Brief overview:

Takes some hits to her mouth, ouch.
Puts herself in the path of Thresher, even if it means she had to push Haven a little, sorry Queen.
Gets her shoulder and part of her chest tore up pretty good, takes one for the team.
In true Sage fashion, falls face-first because Thresher knocked her feet out from under her. A+ good job you clutz.
Passes out from injuries if Thresher doesn't try to eat her alive.]

(She is the one), but I have a purpose,
(She is the one), and I have to fight this,
(She is the one), the villain I can't knock down.

I see your face with every punch I take,
And every bone I break, it's all for you.
And my worst pains are words I cannot say,
Still I will always fight on for you.




#659D32
- Played by Red Team -

Offline Haven

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Re: I Will Face God And Walk Backwards Into Hell [PRP]
« Reply #6 on: April 13, 2016, 02:20:10 AM »
Thresher's flames would soon be buried under a symbolically appropriate cascade of green and gold. Inaria's forests had survived invasion before, and it would survive again, Haven would make sure of it. Saboro could keep their poppies and reeds and jungle underbrush but Inaria's green grass and lilac trees and golden mornings would remain intact.

Everything was moving in fast forward and slow motion - adrenaline and steely calm resolve balancing each other out to create the movements of an utterly experienced soldier, a paladin who'd seen a thousand battles and wouldn't hesitate at one more. Thresher ducked beneath her, and Kashmir beneath him, and Haven felt a pain in the soft underside, heard a ripping of muscle and skin. She felt a flash of red in front of her eyes from the pain, but it would not stop her, even as she felt her legs grow wet with blood. Haven would later be thankful that though the wound Thresher had extended was broad, it was not deep, leaving the her guts where they belonged.

The motion nearly knocked her over (Thresher was shorter than her, but not by THAT much) and so she stumbled to the side. Then Sage stumbled into her, and after a moment passed out from her loss of blood. Haven, while having been knocked out of the way, charged again, this time more blindly (pain, pain did that to you). She moved in again, aiming for an eye, a throat, an ear, anything she could grab and rend. Despite the gore that now covered her, despite the deafening din, Haven remained eerily collected and cool, matching Thresher's fiery gaze with her own - golden and chilly and constantly calculating, like a hawk preparing to swoop in with sharp talons. To rend with the curve of a bladed mouth.


--
Thresher wrecks her underbelly
The whole crowd is kind of stumbling around and tripping each other and generally being a mess. Haven nearly falls over bc of Thresher and Sage.
She gets her footing and goes to attack Thresher again
She mad

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Offline Kashmir

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Re: I Will Face God And Walk Backwards Into Hell [PRP]
« Reply #7 on: April 13, 2016, 03:38:13 AM »
He ripped into the invader's back leg, needlepoint teeth gnashing, head shaking, blood bubbling and welling from the wound, from his small but cunning mouth. The jackal let go, staying beneath his quarry, and watched as he moved in pursuit of Haven, missing nothing. That limp -- oh, what a beautiful limp. What precision, what expertise, in that quick but effective maiming. All the better to bring this bloodthirsty beast down. All the better to knock out one more threat against his home, his queen, his people.

Kashmir darted out from under Thresher's belly, spitting hair and fluid and bits of the poisonous spores he'd unknowingly taken in. A last laugh for a doomed warrior, perhaps, when the jackal inevitably staggered into Lotus's care later on. Haven parried him bravely, Sage lay in a stream of her own blood... was she... had he already killed her?!

His breath hitched and he gaped at her motionless body. He'd known her in passing as a small girl. He'd helped train her for this.

Ears lain back, pupils pinpricked, Kashmir loosed a hellish, throaty sound that wanted to be a screech, and leapt fearlessly toward Thresher, feinting snaps toward his face. His aim was to be annoying, for the great monster to turn his head to swat this pest...

... so, with one clean, brutally efficient strike, the jackal could gouge out his eye.


Who loved, who suffer’d countless ills
Who battled for the True, the Just
Be blown about the desert dust
Or seal’d within the iron hills

Played by Kotake

Offline Thresher.

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Re: I Will Face God And Walk Backwards Into Hell [PRP]
« Reply #8 on: May 21, 2016, 08:49:23 PM »
He saw red everywhere.  Against gold, against green and brown, and even against the soft green earth.  Not all of it was his, oh no, he had gotten in a fair deal of blows.  It was a masterpiece of carnage on Inarian soil, blood of the queen (unbeknownst to him), spilled in their precious sanctuary.  He was sure the stains would be there for weeks, if not months, hopefully years if the tears of the Inarians didn't wash them away first. 

Thresher wanted to turn and bite at that mosquito-like jackal that had near gutted him, but his focus was on this golden lady, wanting more than anything to take those golden eyes from their sockets, and bring them back to Saboro, give them to Sappara perhaps- she would enjoy them, his children could use them as bartering tools if they so wished.  But his vision of taking them dimmed slightly as she had been pushed aside, and his fangs met another, ripping nd tearing into the mud puppy instead.  Still, he would accept this offering she so boldly, and stupidly offered to him for the moment.  Ripping and tearing into her chest and shoulders, snarls escaping form him every time he readjusted his grip.  Crimson splashed and splattered in every direction, contaminating the sacred soil with the lifeblood of one of their own. 

It was a marvelous thing. 

It grew more and more to his favor as he felt the girl crumble beneath him, her footing faltered and she crashed to the ground.  One more heated snarl form the flamed hued monster, and he ripped the last bit of flesh he still clung to, brown and green fur mixed with crimson and pink flesh hung from his mouth as he turned now to face Haven, blood stained teeth flashed an acidic smile at the Queen as she advanced, albeit quicker than Thresher had thought. (He could blame his miscalculation on the continuing blood loss from that wicked, damned effing jackal).  And Haven collided into him, her fangs meeting his flesh, catching the point where the jaw meets the neck, and awkward and dangerous angle.  A fatal flaw in Thresher's plans to dispose of her first, and even more so a flaw when he turned his head to try to pry himself from her, another pair of fangs were there waiting. 

The left side of his vision faded quickly from red to black, flashing lights, and then an audible pop- followed by liquid running down the side of his face and an unearthly scream from Thresher's own maw.  He knew what had happened- he'd done it to so many others before- his eye was no more, a victim of that wicked, effing Jackal.  Thresher was no longer concerned with his jaw, but his eyes-  he needed those.  Putting his weight on three legs, he brought his front left paw up with a ferocity that matched his personality, Thresher attempted to scratch the crap out of the Jackals face, his eyes or his sensitive nose were both viable options.  While his paw was working to get the jackal off his face, he tried (and most likely failed) to bite at the golden lady as she had a grip on him.  He had thought this battle would be easy- after all it was three to one.

Was.  He'd taken down one of them, and with the two left he was sure victory was his.  A jackal and a she-wolf, and they were Inarian.  He had underestimated their spirit- and their vindictive personalities.  He would know quickly, just how gravely that mistake would cost.


Takes Sage down- rips off some of her shoulder/chest whatever you want Red :)
Turns to Haven with essence of Sage stuck in his teeth
Haven gets ahold of his jaw/neck line- ow Haven
Thresher tries to rip his flesh to get away, runs into Kashmirs mouth- loses his left eye.
He mad- but also in much pain
swipes at Kash's face (eyes/nose) with paw while trying to deal with Haven in a very hard to reach hold






All that I see is the wickedness around me

I refuse to believe the apocalypse inside of me

I can't even trust myself

I'm burning in my skin

Standing at the gates of hell

But nobody will let me in



Offline Haven

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Re: I Will Face God And Walk Backwards Into Hell [PRP]
« Reply #9 on: June 30, 2016, 11:22:05 PM »
The acidic smile he gave her as he met her eyes, as Sage crumpled to the ground, it was disgusting, absolutely disgusting, and Haven was more sure than ever that Saboro was scum and waste and filth, more justified than ever in tearing apart each and every one of them that dared stain her beautiful kingdom, her kind kingdom, her flawed, incredible, beloved kingdom.

Her home.

The blood was pouring from her now, her entire abdomen bright and dripping, sticky. She had made her hold on his face, Kashmir tore out his eye, and a spurt of Thresher's blood now splashed on her as well. Rather than letting go and trying to attack again, she decided to hold her grip tighter - maybe Kashmir could get a second attack on the flame wolf while she grappled him.

Even while being held, Thresher lashed out at her again, teeth somehow reaching her shoulder and making a deep puncture, dark blood beginning to pool out of the four small but cutting marks he'd left from his canines. He lifted one paw against Kashmir's onslaught, but he could only do so much against two wolves at once, and so despite the excruciating pain, Haven clamped down tighter on the spot just below his jaw, aiming to hold him still and prone, giving a solid yank to pull him away from her now red forelimb.

This wolf had hurt Sage and so he would not be leaving the purple forest alive.

---------------

Haven continues to hold him arund the neck area so he has less mobility
She takes a pretty good wound on the shoulder.

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Offline Kashmir

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Re: I Will Face God And Walk Backwards Into Hell [PRP]
« Reply #10 on: July 04, 2016, 12:50:00 AM »
Whipped into a frenzy, but never quite out of control enough to be drunk on enemy blood, the jackal mercilessly bit into the eye nearest him, piercing and popping like the prongs of a fork into a soft grape,  teeth scraping the damaged socket on their withdraw. Thresher's roar of agony and rage shook his bones at their close proximity, but the adrenaline in his bloodstream, chanting kill or be killed, narrowed his focus to Haven's movements, ever the straightforward fighter that he simply wasn't... and every part of the Saboro wolf he could grab and wound. Every part that was vulnerable.

Decrease his mobility. Hamper his vision. Let his energy run out red and sticky. Deplete his will to battle on. Bring him down slowly, gradually, the death of a thousand cuts. This was the name of the game. But this was no game at all, was it? Games implied merriment. Games implied RULES.

Heavy, meaty paws clubbed Kashmir in the face, slashing their blunt nails spitefully across the sensitive eyes and snout. The jackal shrank back reflexively, head thrown back, lips curling, nostrils expelling startled air. On the eyelids, the bridge and black of his nose, he'd carved angry red lines into the thin skin that began to drip, sheared away the protective fuzz of hair. Tenaciously he sprang back in seconds, tuning out the nasty sting.

Haven's belly was bleeding badly. It scared the hell out of him. His queen, his friend – did this savage beast have any friends? Or did he just take them away from those who did? She had him around the neck, restraining him, but that wouldn't last long with his struggling... so her marquis would act fast.

Pushing down that fear, swallowing it, force-fed more of the diet he'd become used to for years, the jackal ran behind the enemy soldier, circling over to the other side, and did something very reckless. He lunged and struck for the other eye. Front paws in the air, planted upon the thick shaggy side for leverage, damn near climbing the beast in his attempt to not only blind him, but hang on so very tightly, taking that terrible hold upon his face and using it to pull Thresher down to the bloodied ground in sync with Haven's assault.

He wasn't a rash animal. This was too impatient of him. Too risky. Yet –

Kashmir could not give him time to hurt anyone else.
« Last Edit: July 04, 2016, 12:59:12 PM by Kashmir »


Who loved, who suffer’d countless ills
Who battled for the True, the Just
Be blown about the desert dust
Or seal’d within the iron hills

Played by Kotake

Offline Thresher.

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Re: I Will Face God And Walk Backwards Into Hell [PRP]
« Reply #11 on: September 23, 2016, 02:09:20 AM »
The dizzying, faint feeling that had begun to creep into Threshers body was worrisome to the flame hued wolf.  If he began to weaken now, it would only be a matter of time before these two effing pansy ass mothereffers would be able to take him down and he wouldn't get back up.  There was so much on the line here, his life, their lives, Sappara, his new family, the only family he ever cared about.  The only thing he ever cared about. Period.  He could care less about Saboro, Coven, all his little crap head spawn, but Sappara- she was the only thing that mattered. 

His one good eye caught the movement from the jackal, even of the golden bitch had a hold of his face, he still had one good eye, and he would be keeping it.  He would see her again, and to do that he needed an eye, just one.  When the jackal launched his attack on Threshers face, he would turn his head only slightly so the jackal would make a hit, but not on his intended target.  Kashmir hit, with force, just below Thresher eye socket, an excruciating pain temporarily blinded him, and Thresher thought the jackal had hit his mark, and that sent the fire branded brute into a frenzy.  He began to shake his head violently, he could hear his flesh ripping and tearing between the snarls of his enemies.  With each shake, he could feel himself grow weaker, either from blood loss, or fatigue, either way it scared the crap out of him.  There was no effing way he was gonna meet his end here, not to these two- not after everything he had been through.  eff them.  eff all of them.

Coven- Knife- Poltergeist- Shadon- Zasha-

   -his legs began to shake,

Rifle- Bane- Reiss-

            -it took all he had to keep standing,

Kontra- Faustina- Lauren- Wolfe- Osiris- Typhon-

                      -he let out a snarl of protest, willing himself to stay up,    stay up,      STAY UP

Loath-       "Sappara...."


His legs crumbled underneath him as he exhaled her name, his voice cracking and croaking.  Waves of emotions crashed upon him as his face was plowed into the earth, like the Hoover Dam finally breaking, allowing the water to wash over every living thing for miles, devouring and killing everything it touched.  He breathed heavily as he was held on the ground, two sets of fangs embedded in his face, his one good eye swiveling from the golden bitch to the small jackal.  Every exhale ridden with a gut wrenching growl.  This is NOT how he wanted to go out, not for the sake of effing Saboro- but if it was, he'd be damned if he was going to plead for his effing life.  He wasn't a bitch, he'd curse and foul mouth these douche canoes until there wasn't any breath left in him. 

His exhales slowed, growling turned into more of a slow, maniacal laugh- 

"This isn't going to end with me. More will come. Maybe not now, maybe not soon-  but they'll come."  Whether it was true or not, he'd have one last mind eff to give them before they ended him.  "And you won't be able to stop them all."  Famous satanic grin plastered on his bloodied face, making him look more like the rage-festered craphead everyone knew him to be.  His one eye swiveled towards the golden bitch, licking his lips, as he stared at her.  "eff you bitch."  Before eyes focused on the jackal, "eff you too, you insufferable bag of dicks." Spittle and blood flew as he spit out the insults, his mind whirling, but only focusing on one thing, and god effing damnit, he hoped she would be able to forgive him. 


[Jesus I am so sorry this took me so long to reply to, and that it is written so terrible, I am so so so so sorry.]






All that I see is the wickedness around me

I refuse to believe the apocalypse inside of me

I can't even trust myself

I'm burning in my skin

Standing at the gates of hell

But nobody will let me in



Offline Anglachel

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Re: I Will Face God And Walk Backwards Into Hell [PRP]
« Reply #12 on: November 28, 2016, 09:50:23 PM »
[ five million years later....]

A medic of the front lines, tasked with administering first aid, responsible for quick work in stabilizing patients and making sure they get to the infirmary alive. It was a job he had been tasked with by his mother, the only one of her children who had become a chemist, and a job Anglachel had been more than willing to take.

He had promised after all—a promise for his mother, for his brothers and sisters racing across the battlefield, for the memory of Kiefer and Red whom he had failed. For Kroni. For Akki.

For Thresher.

Because Anglachel was a gentle soul who loved, who gave and gave without ever wanting anything but a loved one's ensured health and happiness in return. He was a soul who vowed to protect with each fiber of his being, to try and try and try even if it meant placing his own throat upon the chopping block. Anything to prevent another body scattered along a riverbank, anything to prevent the ghosts of lost faces haunting him in his loneliest moments. It was his unseasoned naivety that coaxed anxiety beneath a veil of hopeful assurance, an innocent notion that they would all make it out of this safe and alright.

(He never thought twice about the lack of his own inclusion in that sentiment)

The young prince had yet to learn that Saboro would never grant him that one wish.

Even with the crimson stained jungle and ominous volcano many miles behind him, Saboro would teach her ruthless lessons just as she had that day by the red, red riverbank.

Sweet fantasies of relieved reunions and happily-ever-afters shattered under the heavy tang of blood, and a scent so frighteningly familiar. Everything that he had learned of fighting lay abandoned in the dust as the blue prince charged toward the source. "No, no no no no." As a doctor, he knew there was no hope here, that the bleeding beast collapsing into dirt and flowers stained red was beyond saving.

But as a friend—as a gentle soul who only ever loved and loved and loved—

Like a silver bullet, Anglachel charged forward, lean body cleanly clearing Thresher's defeated frame in a single bound to stand defensively before him. Jaws would snap—a warning, some attempt to ward the golden woman and dark jackal away. "Stop, you're killing him! You've won this fight! Take your wounded and go!" As though he was in any position to make demands. As though a boy—a medic with his hurriedly made satchel of herbs slung across his shoulders—was any match for two obviously seasoned soldiers.

Yet Anglachel stood firm despite his odds, teeth bared and hackles raised. He would plead and fight and try with everything he had to bring Thresher home.

I'll be a chemist so you'll have one to trust. I'll get rid of things that hurt you too.

Because he promised.

We'll protect each other then.

He promised. And Anglachel would face God and Hell and every army this world had to offer if it meant keeping that promise. And surely, surely these soldiers would see this medic and take their own injured back to safety. Surely they would see reason in his words—surely.

He would face them with red eyes blazing and vivid tattoos burning—

How could he have forgotten, the scarlet target painted upon his features?

We think too big, we think our self is one whole thing
And we claim that this collection has a name and is a being
But deep inside, when every cell divides
It sets upon the rule that states self-interest is divine

Cancer, too, lives by this golden rule
That you must do unto the others as the others unto you
All for the best, cause that’s all the life accepts
And so we kill it like a buffalo, with awe and with respect

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
#5d637f
-- Played by Tranquility

Offline Haven

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Re: I Will Face God And Walk Backwards Into Hell [PRP]
« Reply #13 on: November 30, 2016, 07:12:17 AM »
The queen held the enemy, and Kashmir struck. The two Inarians moved in tandem with the kind of silent familiarity that really only comes from having fought together several times before. The question of whether the little jackal had friends was easily answered - yes, he was Haven's friend, he was her best friend and she loved and valued him more than he likely knew. He'd always been at her side, always willing to sacrifice for the same ideals she herself stood for. The idea that Inaria would remain a bastion of goodness and light, no matter what foul wave of evil crashed upon their shores.

The monster that had toppled Sage was now himself toppling. Thresher crumpled to the ground as Kashmir's bloody maw tore away yet another piece of his face. "Sappara...." the horrible wolf murmered, and while perhaps that might make some wolves cringe with sympathy (Oh, our enemy is a real person, he has a family he cares about!) Haven neither flinched nor ceased her assault. If he loved this Sappara so much, perhaps he should have tried harder to avoid murdering Inarian citizens. If he had, perhaps he'd be going home to Sappara instead of bleeding out, one-eyed and furious, on foreign soil.

"No, no no no no." A desperate, wavering voice shouted. The thin boy with bright red tattoos adorning his eyes leaped before the prone body, snapping at the queen in a decision that could only be described as beautifully, stupidly brave. Inaria's ferocious queen towered over him in both height and muscle, her powerful visage contorted into a awesome, terrible snarl. Her intent here had been nothing short of murderous, adrenaline pounding in her, her muscles contracting with pain and rage. "Stop, you're killing him! You've won this fight! Take your wounded and go!"

Killing him? Of course she was killing him. The golden wolf stepped forward to the little purple chemist, her imposing figure immediate to him.

"YOUR QUEEN DID THIS." She snarled at the slim healer. "YOU ATTACK OUR HOME, KILL US AND MAIM US, AND YET YOU PLEAD FOR US TO SPARE YOUR LIVES?" She lowered her head to his and her voice fell to a quiet hiss. "No."

And then she'd attempt to shove him aside. He was a medic, and because of that Haven would not hurt him. But Thresher was a soldier, and Haven didn't know yet if Sage was dead or alive, and Haven was bleeding from her belly. If she managed to shove the boy, she'd tower over the dying Thresher. She'd try to tear another hole in his belly. Sure, maybe he'd have some minutes left to sob out his regrets to his small chaplain here, but Haven wanted to be sure that Thresher wouldn't be hurting anyone else ever again. No healing was going to fix him. He wouldn't get healed and then come back to attack her soldiers again. 

Maybe it was brutal. Yeah, it was. And maybe it wasn't something that a noble queen should do. But Haven had been a general long before she'd been a queen. This was how it went, this was how war went. Thresher wasn't some innocent civilian or peaceful healer. He was an enemy combattant. And he'd tried to destroy her home and the people she loved. She took no joy in this, she had never wanted to do this, but this was a battlefield. Regular rules don't always apply. Later maybe this scene would haunt her conscious. But for now, it was just one more horrible thing she had been forced to do to defend her kingdom.

Saboro was the one who'd wanted a war. Haven had no choice but to give them one.

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THIS IS WAR and we are all going to be polite as hell about it or SO HELP ME GOD.

Offline Kashmir

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Re: I Will Face God And Walk Backwards Into Hell [PRP]
« Reply #14 on: November 30, 2016, 08:55:17 AM »
Kashmir said nothing as the doomed wolf thrashed and cursed the duo who'd brought him down. He didn't speak to those he killed, rejecting that sense of familiarity, pushing away the humanizing effect it would have on him to know that they had names, histories, a mother, just like he and his. At least he told himself that was why he bit back with nothing but cold silence. That he could still be touched enough by such bleeding-heart sentimentality to influence his course of action. And did that reflect monstrously upon him, that he would strike an enemy down without lamenting the wife left behind, the children, the friends? Tell me, what is the kindest way to win a war?

Such questions were perfunctorily cast aside. He remembered; he repaid double. The jackal bared his teeth, those small but sharp knives in his mouth, the yellow eyes just beyond them burning hellishly bright, righteous rage, avenging sword, and stood waiting until those struggles slowed and stopped, that he might move in to bury this flame for good, when suddenly --

he snapped around, hyper-vigilant, to face the lone medic jumping in to protect Thresher, getting in his way --

"Stop, you're killing him! You've won this fight! Take your wounded and go!"

It was audacity beyond audacity, this plea for mercy, for the firing hand to go limp and draw back. Kashmir actually snarled, a low rattling sound likely lost in the din; the hair along his arcing spine bristled savagely. How dare you, he might have hissed, had he been another man, but Haven roared for him all that and more. Denied him in a clap of thunder. Whirled back at once to maul Thresher's dying body, the meaty squish of teeth into flesh all but the bang of a judge's gavel. His blood felt preternaturally hot as it rushed through his veins.

And when she moved, so did he a heartbeat later, whether or not Anglachel pursued and intervened again in the sort of desperate frenzy that only ever accompanied fear for a loved one. Kashmir leaped to meet his advance, to block him from his queen as she finished the job, and for a moment, the jackal tilted his head and seemed to study the intricate red marks beneath his eyes. They were a status symbol in his society, he knew by now. They meant he was powerful, revered, important. They were Saboro's bloody insignia.

He hissed to the cornered prince then, looking for the world like something out of a nightmare. "Don't move or I'll kill you next."

It was all the warning he'd get. Kashmir suddenly lunged, attempting with a vicious snake of teeth to grab a leg and wrench it with every ounce of his weight out from under the boy, toppling him in a heap to the ground. Hit or miss, miss or hit, those jaws would then assault his face in a rush of violence terrifying in its precision. His eyes would be spared, unless he struggled too much, but those teeth would dig into the area just under them, rending flesh and ripping out fur chunk by agonizing chunk, the blood running faster and redder by the second. He'd destroy that beautiful face, taking away the gifts that made Ang noble and distinct, sending a brutal message, a eff you of his own to the evil monarchy that had bore him.

Maybe it was the youth to his face that stayed another kill. Maybe it was his pitiful attempts to fight them, giving away his inexperience, how obviously he did not belong here on this battlefield or any other. Maybe it was the way he seemed to grieve more for the dying Thresher than for himself.

Or maybe he simply didn't want Haven to see him cutting the throat of a young doctor begging for his friend's life.

Who knew, in the end? Perhaps not even him.
« Last Edit: November 30, 2016, 09:15:05 AM by Kotake »


Who loved, who suffer’d countless ills
Who battled for the True, the Just
Be blown about the desert dust
Or seal’d within the iron hills

Played by Kotake