[M] stare's on fire and their hearts are burning

[IF/SL War] Group 3

POSTED: Mon Oct 23, 2017 7:39 pm

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.


how pure, how sweet the love beneath it

The morning had been for riling, for preparation. The tension had roiled over the proverbial brim of the pot, and mounted to this moment on the call of Vesper's cry; The Aquila hated wasted time, and Inferni proper rose to greet threat with bared teeth, just waiting, ready to spring and snap upon their conflict. Patriotism ran thick in the blood, sang pitch against the beating of their hearts. Soot was granted to those who would take it - and while she did not share the culture of the Valley, Briarblack donned the ashes, and found misplaced prayer on her tongue, the winter of her eyes crisp and hard, but worried.

She was always so damn worried.

Thoughts wavered overly long on the thought of the burning cart, on the captives they had hardly held - and the stirrings of doubt were ever there, ever restless in her chest, swelling in her throat as they marched and divided. This would end as they planned it. It had to be this way.

It could not end any other way.

At least, this is what she told herself, an intrepid mantra that buzzed with a dull and uncertain thrum against her skull, bow in hand, as the groups broke. Coyote cries went up, yipping and sharp singing through the air that electrified the raven-haired girl to her core, and she thought again - the cart, the stricken-down ravens, the injuries and the shed of blood. Her nerves were not steeled for this, but now was not the time for her hesitation or her reluctance. Fingers tightened against the grip of her bow, her skin drawn and pulled tight over knuckles, and ice curled through her veins as the yowling cry of Inferni coyotes was answered with something deep, melodic - the Kingdom had been prepared. A hand reached for Redtooth's arm as she tugged him to skirt along the tall grasses for better vantage, and the panic was evident on the low hush of her voice.

"Take heed-" The sentiment was short lived, the bright blue of her eyes wide with her blatant fear as they whaled as an arrow sliced through the air between the Infernians, and that gaze turned back towards the figures in the trees. The young woman reached for her quiver, knocked an arrow, and sent one flying in answer.

Dated: Oct 25th: Owing to the nature of the plot and the timing involved, we are limiting the reply window to a 48 hour period -- if you are unable to reply during this time, you may be skipped. | [wc — 388] template by hilli

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Despi

POSTED: Mon Oct 23, 2017 9:34 pm

Posing as hardcore
Either/Or

This ended today, this long and low campaign. A nervous coyote man held his bow ready with an arrow pre-knocked against the drawstring; white knuckled and tight. He knew this day was coming. It was simply the inevitability of war. Know as he did, Redtooth did not feel ready when he was roused by the battle cry. Despite the experience he had gained; the burning of the Salsolan Caravan, the taking of Salsolan prisoners, and his survival in the armed skirmishes in the borderlands -- none of it prepared him for this final encounter. It made the rest feel like child's play.

The others rode out astride their steeds. Gleaming, intimidating warriors brandishing fine weapons of iron and steel as their horses carried them across the plain. Redtooth and Briarblack, non-mounted and meagerly armed, advanced on the front early and on foot. Redtooth bore a bow and twelve arrow with a hatchet slung loosely at his hip, nothing more.

They were marksmen. The eyes and ears of the war party.

The thunder of hooves from the east grew louder by the second. Their war cries rose like smoke in the distance. Inferni was a swell upon the warfront like a crashing wave. Redtooth readied his bow, only to have his shoulder touched by Briar.

Take heed... Her thought would remain incomplete. An arrow whizzed by, inches from Redtooth's face. Startled -- or rather, terrified -- Redtooth yelped and staggered back. There was little cover so he fell to the ground, sprawling flat. Salsola had seen them first, leaving the Infernian marksmen at a distinct disadvantage. The element of surprise belonged to the enemy.

Across the plain there was movement. Redtooth's heart hammered in his chest. He took aim and let one loose.

Eleven.

OOC drivel goes here.
We are what we are. Get in the goddamn car.
Salsola
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Ryan
Luperci Creatore Mate to Narcissa I HAVE A BIG HEAD AND LITTLE ARMS

POSTED: Mon Oct 23, 2017 9:54 pm

Krios should not have been out, and yet he was once again. He was young, too young truly, to be any part of this sort of war. Not yet a year, how could he claim to even be an adult? Yet, in the eyes of the Kingdom, he was a man grown. Sometimes he did not feel that way, especially considering the fact that his mother still doted on him. She helped to fix his injuries, gave him the healing teas, and comforted him the only way that a mother could. But she could not fight his battles for him.

The Heiwa male stood among the other men and women of the pack. He was a men among them, if perhaps a man still growing into his prime. At one moment in time he was a child, in another he was poised to be a warrior, ready to kill if need be. The idea nearly made him sick.

The call rang out and the youth felt his spine stiffen. They were spotted, the coyotes, the enemy, those that would seek to destroy all that the Kingdom. Vesper hurt Krios. Inferni hurt Salsola. Now, they needed to pay. Stealing himself, drawing from within, Krios called up on the Goddess for the first time in his very short, young life. He was unfamiliar with the sensation of praying, of calling for assistance through an invisible being.

He could not really remember how he decided to point his bow in the direction he had. He tightened his bow and shot toward the enemy, pulling as far as he could. His arms wobbled as he did so and his breath exhaled mightily as he did it. He did not have many shots in him; he hoped he could at least do some damage with it before he had to stop.

He did not know if it hit, but he saw another arrow sailing toward them and yelped out of the way. It landed firmly in the ground near his feet. It was one thing to fight against a melee opponent. It was quite another to see a ranged enemy's ammunition before his feet. Fear gripped his chest but it mingled with anger. Krios could feel the fear from his encounter then slipping in. The rage of feeling weak flooded. He would not lose.

Then another arrow shot through the air and whistled past him. At first he thought it missed, then the pain seared across his arm. His free hand clamped over it and he hissed, fury in his eyes as he looked up to the sky. Goddess above, he wanted them to die. He aimed again, ignoring the pain in his arm. He launched another arrow at the enemy he could see. His adrenaline helped him draw the bow with more strength. He shot, feeding his anger into the bow, despite how shaky his limbs were after he let it fly.

489

Krios Revlis
Come touch me like I’m an ordinary man. Have a look in my eyes. Underneath my skin there is a violence

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Gen
Vedetto, Milite Mate to Kamari

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Don't Think Twice, Baby

POSTED: Wed Oct 25, 2017 6:55 pm

He came in support of Krios, but he wanted nothing of the fight itself.

Neith hadn’t made friends with Inferni, or no longer thought them uncivilized or feral. He had learned much of their culture, of life outside Salsola, while trapped in their caverns with little to eat or drink, but his opinions went unchanged. Contrarily, he sought no vengeance, for he had walked away with his life and without Ask, and Neith could not have hoped for better results.

He was a medic, not a fighter. He clutched his rapier and moved, pretending, maintaining his younger brother in his peripherals and holding close the tiny, stuffed satchel of supplies he found and brought along. Neith heard the call, and felt the pounding thing in his chest take to triple the speed.

An arrow came, then another. Neith watched Krios react, but keep moving, and the older Heiwa did the same. Taking refuge with his blade behind a tree, he prayed for not another debacle like the caravan, both in this war and last. Then, he pointed a direction to Krios, and took off through the trees in direction of the arrows.

At great distance, he saw the man who set the caravan aflame, and Neith frowned. He saw Briarblack, and gritted his teeth. The man pushed on through the trees and pushed on through the pain of his bad shoulder.

He found refuge behind a trunk and called out to them around it, “Lay down your weapons,” for he did not want to fight her. Not after the way she had looked at him in the caverns.

whose eyes you gonna use?

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Lin
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THE GOOD DOCTOR

POSTED: Thu Oct 26, 2017 10:51 pm

how pure, how sweet the love beneath it

The coyotes had let loose their arrows, and without hesitation, the darker of the two grabbed Redtooth's arms, and tried to dart with him to cover. They were too exposed. Goliath's words rang again and again, a mellow chant in her head about running, and found her speed invaluable in such pressure. Winter eyes flashed as she ducked into a ditch carved by rain into the earth, quickly knocking another of her dark arrows and pressing her back to soil as she draw deep and steadying breaths, ears folded into raven hair, feeling the pull of healing tissue in her own shoulder, and as if summoned like some awful spirit, she heard a familiar voice call through the brush and trees.

Rust, if he was to be trusted. A noise rattled in her throat as blue eyes flicked around, unsure of how to combat someone who now seemed, at least rudimentarily so, familiar to her. He was not the faceless target of Salsola. He was Rust, and he felt the crushing weight of responsibility as she did.

Fingers trembled against the bowstring, before she steeled herself.

"We can't do that," she answered to that voice, her tenor strong despite the way she felt herself shake at her fingertips. Eyes squeezed shut as she loathed her hesitation, exhaling slow before she sprang up, launching her arrow again from where the Salsolan archer lay in wait - though she couldn't bring herself to aim vitally, even now. It was low, and her throat tightened, gently elbowing Redtooth and gesturing for him to find where ever the silver swordsman was hiding.

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Despi

POSTED: Fri Oct 27, 2017 5:30 pm

Posing as hardcore
Either/Or

Ten. Nine. Eight.

Redtooth loosed several arrows from where he laid. His visibility was poor and the vantage point that he and Briarblack had taken was markedly suboptimal. If they would have had more time; if the Salsolan regiment hadn't taken them by surprise -- at this point, there were only what if's. What Redtooth did know, however, was this was not the spot to stay. There was no proper cover and the terrain was fairly even. Out in the open like this, it was only a matter of time until they met their demise.

As panic began to settle in Redtooth's chest, he felt his concentration begin to wane. This would soon be over.

It was only when the once-captive spoke that Redtooth's resolve returned. Did he really just? Obviously, they had no idea what they were doing either. "Yeah. Fuck off," Redtooth shouted. Bruh, do you even war? Maybe, they could turn this around.

Briar prompted him up, so Redtooth rose to a crouch. "Keep him talking," he whispered to Briar, hoping that they could possibly keep him distracted long enough for Redtooth to find him and drive an arrow through his chest. With an arrow already knocked against his bow, Redtooth ran into the cover of the tree line and he kept his eyes open for any sign of silver in the distance.

He drew his bow as he ran. Seven.

TLDR; Red is breaking off from Briar and running into the cover of the woods. He shoots an arrow at Neith as he runs and presumably misses his mark, because that sort of thing hardly ever works.
We are what we are. Get in the goddamn car.
Salsola
The Proctor
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Ryan
Luperci Creatore Mate to Narcissa I HAVE A BIG HEAD AND LITTLE ARMS

POSTED: Sun Oct 29, 2017 6:44 pm

His uncle gestured into a direction, and the younger man nodded grimly for a moment, listening for the telltale whistle of arrows being launched in his direction. He was perhaps not exactly in cover, but he took the chance as his uncle slunk off toward the approaching would-be invaders. He gritted his teeth as he watched on land close to him, flying low, as though the archer had been unwilling to deliver any sort of real shot at him.

Krios cursed his youth and his inexperience with weapons. If only he had more time with Lokr to teach him, to have used his favor with Salvia, to have trained with the other youths who made up the upcoming generation of Salsolans. Instead, he was marching off to war as any willing soldier without enough experience under his belt. It was life, but he wished it were not quite so.

It was hard to see exactly what happened up ahead, but his uncle's voice rang out enough for him to hear. What was the meaning of what he said? Did he think the coyotes were going to willingly stop the fight, surrender, as though they were not ambitious like the rest of them? His jaw tightened even more. What on earth was the man up to? Krios watched as the Infernian moved off. His eyes shifted to the woman, though narrowed in concern.

He aimed his bow again, aiming for the woman who had answered. After a shot, he realized his selection of arrows was growing smaller. Slowly he moved to a nearby tree, pressing his back against it as he contemplated what he could possibly do. At best, he aimed a shot at the man who seemed eager to find his uncle.

Krios Revlis
Come touch me like I’m an ordinary man. Have a look in my eyes. Underneath my skin there is a violence

Player WikiCharacter Wiki
Salsola
The Striker
User avatar
Gen
Vedetto, Milite Mate to Kamari

Bloode Most Potente
Buy Back the Secrets
◅─<<<   ♥   >>>─▻
I Want You for a Lifetime
Don't Think Twice, Baby

POSTED: Wed Nov 01, 2017 9:49 pm

His request was reasonably denied, first in trembled by Briarblack, and second by the scamp of a man she was so often seen with. A poorly trained arrow whizzed past his knees, and a second long from its mark at eye level; the unseasoned Neith winced from the paths of each regardless, and sought cover momentarily to regain his bearings and hunt the terrain for his nephew. In a fight of three bowmen, Neith knew he and his rapier served best as roving distraction, and trusted Krios would identify the same.

Heart pounding, the Confidant pushed out from cover and pressed on. He moved in curves from cover to cover, what little he could find of it in the Bay, and motivated his steps and dried throat with the memories of stinging pain in his shoulder from the last arrow that made its mark in his flesh. If he could help it, he would not make that mistake again.

He followed their arrows and scents to the treeline, and saw the telling flash of copper fur among the brush. Krios fired twice, distinguishable by sound and not by sight, and in the space following both arrows Neith sprinted a gap between covers en route to their enemies on the defensive. He said nothing. The chance was gone.

whose eyes you gonna use?

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Lin
Luperci
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lost in the static
THE GOOD DOCTOR

POSTED: Fri Nov 03, 2017 1:20 pm

how pure, how sweet the love beneath it

The dark coyote started upward as Redtooth vanished after the soft glimpses of silver through the cover, ears flattening into her dark hair at the cries of the injured at the screams of horses echoing off the bay, offset by the back static of restless waves, the hiss of the tide striking stony outcroppings in distance - when it struck her; this was not turning for the worst. This battle was not in their favor to begin with. Winter-sky eyes tried to focus between the trees for the Salsolan archer, before the sharp whistle of an arrow made ears perk upward in surprise, and air left her lungs all at once with the thump of something striking flesh. Transfixed, she stood there in stunned stupor, before the pain finally struck her, an aching sting that started slow before it spiked in a sharp sting - were it not for the adrenaline, she would've likely felt it worse; her large eyes looked down at the arrow bedded beneath her collarbone in her shoulder, and in a panic, she went to grab that wooden shaft, thinking to pull it before that sharp pain made her teeth grit and there was a strangled whine on her breath.

She had to find that archer.

The dark coyote staggered quick on coffee paws from her cover, clutching her bow as she darted between trees until she found the warm-earth toned boy there, and swallowed the restraint she felt, lunging out for him with a snarl and claws alike.

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Despi

POSTED: Tue Nov 07, 2017 9:18 pm

Posing as hardcore
Either/Or

Something whirred past, whistling through the air as the coywolf archer ran for cover. At first, Redtooth did not notice that the arrow had grazed his chest, glancing off of a rib; breaking it unevenly in two places like a dry, splintering twig. The pain didn't come. It was muted -- dulled by adrenaline and fear. However, he did notice the fresh scent of blood emanating from the wound. It bled heavily, but he couldn't stop to check it now. Not until he was safe.

Redtooth crouched behind a tree, keeping it between himself and the Salsolan sharpshooter. The man with the sword, he was momentarily forgotten. Panting, Redtooth let his hand trail down his wounded side. He could feel the break and the sharp sting of panic. He could see the bone beneath his torn flesh, splintered and raw. He was going to die here, thought Redtooth. This war would leave his children fatherless. Perhaps orphaned, like poor Nazario. He couldn't.

He could still shoot.

Redtooth knocked another arrow against the drawstring of his bow and he pulled it back, taut. He took a deep breath and moved from cover to shoot. He took aim once again for the silver man, only to find that he had moved. Redtooth hesitated, and it would be his folly.

Okiedokie. Time for Redtooth to take an arrow :D
We are what we are. Get in the goddamn car.
Salsola
The Proctor
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Ryan
Luperci Creatore Mate to Narcissa I HAVE A BIG HEAD AND LITTLE ARMS

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