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Post by seraaches on Jan 19, 2009 19:10:27 GMT -5
Eir's lips twisted in a mocking sneer at the woman's warning to the girl; he'd be able to catch the little Highlander mix easily. Or so he thought. The Eight leapt, surprisingly, straight through a window and Eir instinctively threw up his head to try and avoid the dangerous shards they were flying around; fortunately most of them followed the girl's direction of movement and did not fly straight back at him.
The wing flap didn't bother the man at all, especially since there wasn't any magic behind it. He didn't really hesitate as he leapt out of the window after the child; it was obvious that this was the best way to hurt the woman, though now he would have to rely on brute strength, unless he could duck the woman. At the rate things were going now, the little Eight might be dead before he could even do the killing blow. That wasn't as much fun, but at least he'd still have a good meal.
Since he was already on his way out the window, the scythe missed his back, though his leaping, invisible hindquarters managed to bump mostly against the flat of the blade as they came up to clear the window pane. A shallow, curved cut touched the purple and pink of his hindquarters, but it wasn't deep enough to really bother him.
It did, however, surprise the stallion, and he kicked out reflexively in his jump before landing on the other side and stretching out his sleek body to run down the child.
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Post by carcinoGeneticist on Jan 19, 2009 20:07:10 GMT -5
Treasa ran. She ran until her muscles screamed, but with her mother in control of her body there was nothing she could do for it. She darted and wove through the garden, ducking beneath bushes and scurrying under low-hanging branches, attempting to slow down the horse that was in hot pursuit. Rhiannon could feel that her daughter was no longer conscious, but she continued to run under her mother's control. She just had to find a safe place for the girl... Ahead of her, she could see the tunnel that lead beneath the palace as a sort of drainage-tube, and she threw her body in.
She wasn't as small as she had once been and it was an extremely tight fit, but she set upon wiggling as far into the tunnel as she could, whimpering in pain and fear as she did. Her whole body ached... And then, before she could pull her tail in fully, something broke her mother's concentration and Treasa fell limp in the dank hole.
As quick as she was, Rhiannon hadn't been quick enough to avoid the sudden backward-kick of the horse. The hoof grazed her forehead in what would almost certainly have been a fatal blow, the rim of it cutting a deep gash that went across her face, between her eyes. The woman fell back, cursing as blood began to flow freely from the wound, pouring into her eyes. The little #*%& had broken her concentration! The woman scrambled to her feet and leapt after the window behind the horse, knowing that her momentary pause could have been a disaster.
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Post by seraaches on Jan 19, 2009 20:29:12 GMT -5
The stallion couldn't quite keep up with the rabbity little beast, but it wasn't as though he wasn't used to pursuing things through underbrush and trees; it was one of his favourite pastimes, actually. He was in a bit of a rush today, though, so he cursed the girl for running and wondered why she hadn't yet passed out from his pain ability as she bloody well should have!
She was leaping, suddenly, into a hole and her entire body might have gone limp. He snaked out his head swiftly and quickly snapped his teeth down onto the child's tail. He didn't have time; that bloody woman was surely right behind him. The little beast wasn't moving anymore so he quickly exerted the pressure to bite off the tail then none-too-gently shoved the child deeper into the hole. He'd deal with the thing's mom with this and then come back to finish off the Highlander mix. Little c*&%. He shook his head, spraying some of the blood around and quickly darting onwards a short ways so the woman hopefully wouldn't figure out where the child was.
Oh, man. Even the tail tasted sweet.
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Post by carcinoGeneticist on Jan 19, 2009 20:47:02 GMT -5
It was by good luck that in her desperate crawl through the broken window Rhiannon didn't hurt herself any worse than she'd been injured already. She didn't want to activate her pain ability just yet, after all, she didn't know if she would need it later on or not. She could deal with the pain of the cut across her face for now, she just needed to catch up with the man and her daughter before anything else could happen to the girl.
She raced through the garden, her anxiety rising to a full-fledged panic. She knew where her daughter was, so she began to race in that direction, stopping occasionally to attempt to wipe the blood from her eyes. When she finally caught sight of the purple and pink horse, what she saw made her freeze in place, a strangled cry catching in her throat.
A spray of blood, the end of a white tail vanishing into the horse's mouth.
Rhiannon screamed wordlessly, the pain, rage, and terror she felt manifesting in her body's stretching into her bipedal form. Apocalypse was pulled from her mouth, and she gripped the weapon in her new-found hands with renewed vigor as she threw herself forward, swinging the weapon with intent to kill. This crazy creature, this monster, had killed and then eaten her daughter. Madness clouded her vision, made her insane with bloodlust. She didn't care who the horse was related to.
He would die.
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Post by seraaches on Jan 19, 2009 20:55:37 GMT -5
Whoa, s*&#! His pleasure at the snack was interrupted by the scream that split the air. Still, a dark smile curled his lips and he started moving as soon as the woman began to shift. He turned to look back behind him as the woman jolted after him with all sorts of horrible emotiosn written across her face.
He purposefully licked his lips at the sweet coppery blood that covered them, hoping she saw it because now he definitely needed to move it or he was going to die.
This didn't prompt as much panic as it probably should have. The woman was angry, but she was also going to be sad and depressed and, he could only hope, panicked out of her mind. He was going to need the edge of the woman not thinking clearly, otherwise he was toast. Still, he'd managed to elude his many pursuers thus far; he had no reason to think he wouldn't make it now.
His ears flattened against his head and he spread out his body, letting his gait spread out to an outright gallop, heading towards the lesser known corners of the Palace; his old haunts and hidey holes.
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Post by carcinoGeneticist on Jan 19, 2009 21:08:48 GMT -5
$#@% it all, the horse was running! The coyote hybrid yipped angrily, dropping the scythe as she slipped back into her animal. After all, she'd be much faster this way, and right now she needed the speed. She quickly gathered the weapon and took off after the blood-covered creature, her wings folded close to her body to keep them from catching air and slowing her down. Apocalypse wasn't helping matters, but there was no way she was going to let go of him now.
There was a moment of opportunity as the pair rounded one sharp corner; Rhiannon took it. She spit at the man with as much force as she could muster, aiming to hit one of his feet with a disgustingly sticky gob of stuff. It flew through the air at an alarming speed, so fast it would take a magical spell to be able to truely avoid it.
And as quickly as she spat the first, she had a second on the way, aimed for another foot. She wanted the horse to stop running so she could kill him. He had already ruined her life, she wasn't just going to let him get away! She didn't even wait to see if her globs had hit their intended target, just threw herself forward with every little bit of force she had.
Large Ability
This SD is now able to spit small amount of exceedingly sticky fluid twice per day. They are very accurate and often aim for another SD's eyes. If the opponent has an amazing dodge ability they might be able to escape it, but it's less likely. The sticky-ness will force the opponents' eyes to shut for two hours or for any other part of them touching the stuff to be stuck there until it wears off in two hours.
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Post by seraaches on Jan 19, 2009 21:23:26 GMT -5
Something hit his right foot, but he was prepared to ignore it right up until he took the next step and his foot decided to stick to the floor. He had no amazing dodge ability, though the second spitwad only skimmed his left foot since it was suddenly jerked out of its original trajectory by the sheer fact that his right foot was now glued to the bloody floor and his body was trying to keep going forward with his momentum.
He face-planted. Hard. His left hoof might have only been grazed by the sticky substance, but it was still there and his left leg crashed upwards to tap his ability in a horribly awkward position and, of course, the foot refused to come back off and now he was splayed in an odd and awkward position that was horribly uncomfortable and his butt remained stuck up in the air where anyone could see his innards.
BLOODY H*$$, wot was that?! He snarled, trying to jerk his right hoof free since as of right now he couldn't even stand. It refused to budge and Eir tried to back up his hindlegs so he could toss his head forward so that maybe from this new angle he could get his feet under him enough that he could defend himself from the freakin' crazy b*@&^ on his tail.
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Post by carcinoGeneticist on Jan 19, 2009 21:37:35 GMT -5
Perhaps the second spitball had been overkill, Rhiannon would have thought, had she been sane in that moment. As it was, there was no logic in her mind, only the red that filled her vision that might have been caused by the raging emotions she felt. It might have also been caused by the blood that was continuing to trickle down from her head, filling her eyes. That seemed far more likely.
She didn't think any of this, however. There were two word. Two delicious words, and together they powered her every movement, filled her with strength.
Kill him.
She watched the man crash into the ground, but she felt no pity. All she felt was the ground beneath her feet as she raced towards him, felt herself shift back to her bipedal form and her hands take the scythe from where she gripped it in her teeth. She swung the heavy weapon in a wide arc, aiming for that disgusting mass of visceral organs. Though the horse already appeared to have been eviscerated, she felt confident that he would not like the feeling of having those disgusting little packages sliced open completely.
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Post by seraaches on Jan 19, 2009 21:47:41 GMT -5
He got as far as his head tucked between his forelegs and was just about to push himself back up when he saw the woman bearing down on him. His teeth showed bloody as he desperately threw himself upwards, just barely catching himself up on his right foreleg as the curved blade swung down in an amazing force that only the truly crazy could attain.
He hoped she broke herself in that blow.
That was his last sane thought.
Pain ripped through him, straight through his mid-section and he screamed himself, head thrown back, teeth bared and his forelegs still locked in place. The blow nearly completely disconnected his lower half from his upper. The blade certainly nicked his spine and he lost the feeling of them-- much less the use-- immediately. His right leg buckled under the weight and pain as this certainly overshot his ability to ignore.
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Post by carcinoGeneticist on Jan 19, 2009 22:03:45 GMT -5
((Permission for this was gained <3))
The feeling of the weapon carving through flesh and bone was beyond imagining. With the size of the scythe being what it was, its blade was impressively heavy, and a lot of such a swing was simply letting it continue to fall through whatever it was that it was pointed at.
It was with a certain detatched attitude that the woman put her foot against the solid bulk of the man's side, using it as leverage to rip her weapon from the flesh it had been imbedded in. She could feel Pale thrumming happily in her mind, but she wasn't happy. Her daughter, her beloved little girl... She was dead now, and she could never kill enough Yarrow Horses to bring her back. She looked at the man with cold eyes, eyes that appeared nearly-dead in their sorrow.
It was considered torture to leave someone in this kind of state, wasn't it? The thought barely registered in the haze of Rhiannon's mind, but it managed to stick there. She swung the weapon experimentally, rubbing the blade against the flank of the horse to clean it. She wanted him to suffer at least a little bit, but the curve of his exposed throat was far too tempting.
Besides, if she left him as he was, he might survive by some fluke of nature. She wouldn't leave his death in the hands of chance.
With a serene grace, the woman brought the weapon to the exposed throat in a clean motion, blade slicing neatly through the flesh and setting free a torrent of blood. Then, with the same grace, she turned and began to walk away, her steps halting and broken. She would return to the place she'd stored her daughter. Only there would she let the emotion take her over.
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