Roleplay from Selenia JeVondair (13 days, 14 hours ago)
It was a very different fight for Empress Selenia.
Sweat began to line her palms, heart fluttering as it always did before a fight. She stepped lightly, using the balls of her toes rather than her heels, as she approached Raziella. The Duchess was resplendent in her Valiant Helm of Protection as she stepped into the impromptu arena. She was a nobly born woman, of that there could be no doubt. Her towering birth was evident in her refined poise, while her relative inexperience as a killer was evident in the weapons she brought...a sword and a rather large hammer.
Vassals took the snowlion cloak from her shoulders, which she loosened and rolled like a languid predator. There were no speeches, no taunting, just the silent ringing of anticipation. It tingled along the hairs of her arms like an electrical current. Selenia brought her Kukri's up and crouched. Even wrapped in protective cloth as they were, they were still dangerously solid in her hands, even as her mind was wrapped in morbid thoughts of aggression. The the rest of the world fell away from her, tunneling to show only Raziella.
And then the Duchess moved.
Selenia would never remember if Raziella has simply been shifting, or trying to speak, or any other of a thousand non-threatening things, but the Empress was upon her like lighting to a tree, dancing about with a strength and agility that surprised the other woman, but Raziella was nothing if not stubborn. Though she lacked Selenia's veracity, she made up for with the curious ability to redirect the energy of Selenia's attacks either to her own advantage, or at least away from her, which slowly frustrated the Empress as precious seconds ticked by.
The parity did not last long. Selenia noticed that Raziella's bag of trick moves was only so deep; she was starting to repeat herself. A twist here, a thrust there, and Selenia manipulated Raziella right where she wanted her. Raziella counterstruck with the her sword to ward off Selenia's Kukris. Instead of stepping back, however, Selenia ducked underneath Raziella swing. Catching her opponents arm safely in the crook of her own, Selenia bashed the pommel of her kukri into the pit of Raziella's elbow, forcing her hand-muscles to spasm and drop her sword. But before Selenia could go for something duel-ending, Raziella spun away, disoriented, cocking her head as though listening to music even as she grouped for her Hammer.
Selenia approached casually, confident now in her approaching victory. That cockiness, however, nearly cost her the match as Raziella surprised her with a swift and powerful swing. At the time, Selenia did not actually feel it connect, but she was flung of balance and fell to the ground hard, forehead popping off the stone...
The forest is dark. The children were screaming, but it is quiet now. Too quiet. death stalks the woods, fat and happy. Supreme in it's mastery of the dark places. She stalked Death itself. The death of innocent children stolen from the northern Morekian village. The Maddening was in the ascendant, driving her forward. desperate to help, but knowing in her soul that it was already much too late...
SNAP! A twig, a branch. To the left, did that shadow just move? No, behind! Something there, watching, hunting...HER. Breath, fetid, blood, congealed. That of Children. But how could she know that for sure? She didn't, and yet she knew.
It's not so big, but strong. It's outline blurred in the dark, always the dark. She's on the ground, her head hurts. She rolls just as it's meaty fist crumbles the ground she had been lying on. She springs up. Dancing to a music only she could here. The Head. Go for the Head. End IT. She does. Grabs the horns. The neck feels weak...good. She twists, a popping sound. Chortled rage and fear. She holds the head in her hands, but the body is still moving, somehow screaming. She's lost her blades, but it doesn't matter. She'll pulverize with it's own evil skull. She'll beat it bloody so that it will never hurt anyone again. Never Again. NEVER AGAIN-
The forest reached out to her, moaning. Roots grab her arms, shoulders, wrapping her tight, wrenching the head from her, pulling her from the beast. resolving from roots to hands, from wood to flesh. Night in the woods becomes day in a scarred city. The ruined peace of a crumbling garden. Blurry Vision; tears. Tears ruining the makeup Mavia insisted she wear, even to a fight. Shouting in her Ear.
"YOUR MAJESTY! STOP! STOP! Damn it, you fools, don't just stand there! Help me get her off the Duchess! This fight is OVER!"
Somewhere, a piano stopped playing.