Ludovic’s heart beat in a relentless rhythm in his chest, adrenaline pulsing through his veins. He drew in a deep breath, the air sharp with the scent of sweat and iron. The battlefield—distantly he could hear a symphony of roars, snapping jaws, and the thud of bodies colliding. His mismatched eyes, one a vivid emerald and the other crimson darted over the shifting scene with nervous focus. Behind him, his mother, chuckling as she nudged her snout into his shoulder before she departed with a nip to his flesh.

His mother’s command was simple, given without turning her head as she moved back to observe: “Summon yourself an opponent. Fight to win.” It was a blunt instruction he had heard countless times, but today it carried a heavier weight. This was no mere training field; it was real, where one mistake could mean severe injury. The stakes were higher, depending on the opponent he called forth.

Lifting his head, eyes blazing with determination, Ludovic called out into the wide open sky, his voice cutting and bold. The challenge lingered in the air, unanswered—for now.

"Ludovic Praetor-Inferos"

Exposed “Artio” Lebraid Beyond the bifrost, a temporal spell magnetising travellers as they bled to coexist, northbound is where this deadpan-graveyard dared to lumber -- fall, eventually, mellows the scorching heatwave as it defrays atop earth’s dynamism. Soon, amazonian nuances juxtaposed against tones of amber-gold, brass, arylide and alizarin palettes; where there were once crumples of bistre flora, it’s sunbeaten dowdiness vivified into a cadmium-green wildfire, expunged by caribbean and celadon greenery. The soil that lay below felt dank, clammy, an omen of winters accost. An ever-changing regalia of colours expelled all aridness, bringing new life to its seasonal clinch; eyes of a midwinter nebula bore a congealed glare, frosty and impulsive, intrusive. They’d lance every soul, if need be. Of course, it wasn’t the gravelly plains, meres or fertile blades that offered antagonism, but rather a plucky and gambling contender that garlanded no maturity. Age, apparently, had few restrictions. The sickly-sweet, gut-churning bouquet of iron, wilt, blood and tears infiltrated the hellion’s nostrils, soot squelching undertoe as it intermingled with secretions of scum, exiles, shilpits and, be it may, contemptible monarchs. Crisp canary, copper and citrine beads reanimated the battlefield’s pledges of dread and calamity –– a pungent zest flowered the wolf’s velvet tongue, skin itching, twitching, jerking –– oh, this was far too exhilarating. Lebraid caroused in the permeance of mortality, torture and putrescent cadavers, truly. Albeit, none of which could be savoured due to a gallant rouse, a challenge, a trial of teeth and tribulations, it seemed, yet a portent she could not ignore. There was no rhyme or rhythm, just epinephrine, baring naught emotions as an encore of weeps hollered in the void; ears taut, she’d assume a head-on position (8ft), crown low and defensive of her gullet. Well, it seemed even children wore a dire attire, but that mattered none. You see, Lebraid did not care for mass, augury or status, because it wasn’t carnality’s that won a war -- dark, deviant rumbles befell agape jaws, tucked and surmised to avoid injury, incite, as legs spread for permanence. The intoxicating reek of miasma galvanised a fetid snarl, beads of drool scoring from each tooth like some militant, ravenous ogre, almost cacodemonic and crookedly abnormal. No, it wasn’t often that she’d choose to participate in any superfluous combat, but today, there was no telling what she may or may not do. Behind those eerie, aloof, impassive eyes was a devil ready to be liberated. Webs of siam, heliotrope and lavender greys aerated into the air as if to appear elephantine, ghoulish, more prepollent than the fiery, madder-red and ivory boy. Bravery was one thing, but can they prove it? She held no expectations, having been disappointed one too many times in the foregone –– so, what will they do? An ocean of silence broke in, cubing the very air they breathed. Action. | “Speech.” | Skill. “Wrong me once, I’ll kill you twice.” Template by Raine <3

Ludovic’s mismatched eyes gleamed as he faced her. This woman of chaotic coloration, painted in a chaos of grays, ash, and muted green. Their gazes locked, hers cold and pale, his alight with the blaze of emerald and fire, glistening with anticipation and confidence. His heart hammered out a relentless rhythm, adrenaline crackling through his veins like fire. He took a step forward, muscles tensing beneath his red-streaked fur, the movement calculated and full of intent. His gaze never wavered from her form, reading the building energy in her stance, the readiness in her sharp eyes.

“Fight to win.” he murmured, voice low and steady, more to himself than to her. The battlefield was theirs now—a stage set for violence. It was all he could do but to smirk, his skull lowering as he ran through his lessons in his head.

In a flash, Ludovic sprang forward, his powerful, lanky legs driving him with ferocity. He closed the gap in a heartbeat, jaws parting to reveal sharp, glistening fangs poised for her muzzle. His forelegs shot up, seeking to grip her shoulders, if he could catch her fast enough.


Ludovic vs Exposed for Spar
Round 1/?
Age: Under 1
Size: Extra large
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Talon Claw Fittings
Defensive Battle Accessory: Leather over shoulders
Companion 1: Raven, Female - Flying
Companion 2: Raven, Female - Flying
Mutation 1: Tough Skin - Defensive
Mutation 2: Reinforced Bones - Defensive
Mutation 3: Reinforced Teeth - Offensive
Skills: Expert Fighter & Expert Intellectual

"Ludovic Praetor-Inferos"

Exposed “Artio” Lebraid There was a conflagration that burned like a wintry tempest in the cinders of volcanic plume, dancing with malignance, death and an evil so ardent, so dastardly, it beckoned absolute acrimony in those blanch, stony, cinereal eyes. Hackles, of course, matched this raw vim and vigour. To think she’d let the bairn off so easily was a dire understatement, despite the obvious disparities -- clinks of bones, rot and mire subjugated the earth into a necropolis bloodfest -- a place of oblivion. The stratosphere, it became stewed by the wails and cries of the foregone, weeping for what’s yet to come. Lebraid made no comment, tail rampant to assume rapidity; their feathery, obsidian-hued mantle and talon claw fitments set no trepidation, even as the barn-red, firebrick boy shot forward. A barbarous, cataclysmic and gut-wrenching snarl spewed past those drouk, agape jaws like a bludgeoning typhoon, unpredictable at any, and if not every expense. She was far from being doltish, and nor was she a harlequin. As the contender got close, legs tensed and her muscles jerked with carnality –– moving left, the bite was abstained, yet a drape of weight plummeted natheless. Their right foreleg cannoned against the hellion’s right shoulder, pain therein combusting as a morose, cacodemonic growl mutilated from the irons of helheim. She’d almost falter, founder, trying to salvage a sense of footing atop this battlefield of the perished. There was simply no time to think, however, perchance react. Jostled jacket wrangled a heinous demeanour, assuming permanence once more before quickly turning to face them aslant, therein attempting to lunge at the child’s upper neck (left side, see here), jowls gaping and leaking with sputum. Thick cords of it, even, seeded off those ivory canines in a fit of outrage; ears pulled taut, tintless nebula’s narrowed darkly, soot and debris flaying in the air as if to quash, suffocate. Blood is all she sought, tasteful and decorative. If it's suffering they wanted, then that’s exactly what they’re going to get. Exposed vs Ludovic for Spar Round 1/3 Age: 3 Size: Large Build: Heavy Skills: Fighter & Intellectual Action. | “Speech.” | Skill. “Wrong me once, I’ll kill you twice.” Template by Raine <3

The crash of their bodies was bone-jarring, his shoulder absorbing her brutal strike. A low growl vibrated in his chest, melding pain and exhilaration into a single, raw note. Even as his body, his young muscles screamed for reprieve, he found no hesitation in his blood. The battlefield was chaos incarnate—blood, snarling, sweat—but within it, he was a force unto himself.

“Don’t talk much?” he muttered, voice breathless but blunt as he tried to twist away from her snapping jaws, the glint of sharp ivory brushing close enough to feel the heat of her breath before they struck true. His scruff seized, he took the pain and sought to break her grip by ducking low, aiming to round his body against hers and set them at a parallel, a move both reckless yet practiced by his training.

The thrill of the battle burned in Ludovic’s veins, a blaze that no storm could douse.

Ludovic vs Exposed for Spar
Round 2/3
Age: Under 1
Size: Extra large
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Talon Claw Fittings
Defensive Battle Accessory: Leather over shoulders
Companion 1: Raven, Female - Flying
Companion 2: Raven, Female - Flying
Mutation 1: Tough Skin - Defensive
Mutation 2: Reinforced Bones - Defensive
Mutation 3: Reinforced Teeth - Offensive
Skills: Expert Fighter & Expert Intellectual

"Ludovic Praetor-Inferos"

Exposed “Artio” Lebraid As if the world was set in slow motion, bone-jarring collisions eclipsed the billows of war; wet, opaline canines bared true in its goring vows, ignorant to the boy’s antecedent comment, for it held no reason to be justified. What right did they have otherwise? They dare? A alveolate, yet breathless grunt purled past seized jowls like a stark-mad sadist –– the sweetmeat, electrifying taste of their rich, irony blood saturated Lebraid’s mouth. Its zesty delicacies sloshed and squelched, achromatic eyes almost forlorn of all normalcy as raw flesh caressed the cacodemon’s tongue, grossly nectareous, desirous. Perchance it enkindled a craze, bedevilled by an intensity so fervent, so untamed, one could practically feel it oozing from the aura that suffused her unpredictable soul. Evil, infernal, a heathen concealed in ghostly garments. However, those chimerical, rotten sensations were quickly torn away; bits of hair wedged itself between teeth, clots of madder-red lacquering Lebraid’s lips in gooey mattes as beads tarnished in falu-hues besmirched the wolf’s chin follicles. She was far from being done, though. Mayhap estranged by past traumas, barbaric sputters combusted in pure chagrin, jacket aflare as defences assumed permanency, protection. There was simply no time to waste, nerves therein cackling with hot adrenaline, potency, a bludgeoning thundersquall that raged in the pits of a living purgatory. Crown lumbering low, gaping jaws attempted to clasp around the carmine kid’s rear-right ankle -- here, there was naught mercy -- games were for the foolhardy and naïve. Had they not understood this by now? Exposed vs Ludovic for Spar Round 2/3 Age: 3 Size: Large Build: Heavy Skills: Fighter & Intellectual Action. | “Speech.” | Skill. “Wrong me once, I’ll kill you twice.” Template by Raine <3

Ludovic met her gaze, a wild glint sparking in his eyes as the fight continued in a frenzy. He felt the sting of his own blood trickling down his shoulder where her bite had taken his flesh and fur, a sharp reminder of her ferocity and his youth. She was relentless, every inch of her a honed weapon, as if made to break the spirit of anyone in her path. But Ludovic had no intention of being broken.

Her focus was sharp as she lunged low, targeting his rear-right ankle. Seeing her intent, he adjusted his stance, muscles bunching and flexing as her jaws snapped. He shifted his leg, pulling it just out of reach with a quick, sidestepping pivot that left him unsteady but kept her teeth from sinking into flesh. He responded with a practiced move of his own, launching his shoulder forward in an attempt to press his weight into her side or her shoulder, hoping to disrupt her footing while his jaws snapped for purchase at her hip. It wasn’t a reckless counter, but a careful tactic—a way to test her balance and keep himself on the offense without leaving too much open ground. Her focus was razor-sharp, and he knew a single mistake would mean pain, but that was the thrill of it. Even if this move gave her the opening she needed, he would take it.

The chaos of the battle faded to a muted roar in Ludovic’s mind; all he heard was the pounding of his own heart, the rasp of their breaths, and the challenge between them to see who would be bested.


Ludovic vs Exposed for Spar
Round 3/3
Age: Under 1
Size: Extra large
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Talon Claw Fittings
Defensive Battle Accessory: Leather over shoulders
Companion 1: Raven, Female - Flying
Companion 2: Raven, Female - Flying
Mutation 1: Tough Skin - Defensive
Mutation 2: Reinforced Bones - Defensive
Mutation 3: Reinforced Teeth - Offensive
Skills: Expert Fighter & Expert Intellectual
"Ludovic Praetor-Inferos"

Exposed “Artio” Lebraid A warfare begetted battlefield honed its battleships, of course –– dark olive and blanched umbra serrated the skies above, pale blizzard and blue-bell tones pirouetting like a tempest in the dead of sea. There was no way of knowing what she might do next, every fibril of her vitriolic being deuced in a boneyard of undead souls. Flays of mire tore from the earth as they danced a wicked chorus, ivory daggers goring naught but air, where flecks of grime, ichor, the poignant taste of plumptuous meat, it all bemused Lebraid’s eldritch features. Oh, so that’s how they wanted to play? Did they not want to feel, much less see, the true face of what acrimony and rapacity can really be? She’d made a promise, albeit, that none shall stand in her fucking way -- weights transposed, footing became momentarily encumbered by the dire’s mass -- and then a bludgeoning blow. Thick, muscular legs dared to concrete themselves into the bole, blood-stained theatre, pain therein exploding at the hip. She’d never felt so alive, skin spasming in response to the canines that sunk raw; a crazed, morbid, bestial snarl belched from the chasms of this cacodemon’s innards, slaver scorning hair, threaded-flesh and follicles as she’d turn to ogle them, mania bleeding from those tintless eyes. Defences fixed, a mutinous rumble bore like a colossal dragon, attempting to pivot her rump left and wrest away from the boy’s seize. There wouldn’t be a second to waste if proven triumphant in her pull; gaping jaws dared to clasp down upon the side of their face (right) in a single, conscious lunge, caring none for what ruins may be done. She would not be bested here, and certainly not by a wean, no less a foolhardy mess. Exposed vs Ludovic for Spar Round 3/3 Age: 3 Size: Large Build: Heavy Skills: Fighter & Intellectual Action. | “Speech.” | Skill. “Wrong me once, I’ll kill you twice.” Template by Raine <3

And the winner is...

Ludovic

Exposed must give up by submitting, fleeing or passing out. Totals: Ludovic: Attack Roll: 59 Defense Roll: 27 Agility Roll: 1 Critical fail! Perception Roll: 89 Total: 176 Attack[59] + 20% Bonus[11.80]: 70.80 Defense[27] + 35% Bonus[9.45]: 36.45 Agility[1] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 1.00 Perception[89] + 40% Bonus[35.60]: 124.60 Total[232.85] + 5% Bonus[11.64]: 244.49 Exposed: Attack Roll: 26 Defense Roll: 86 Agility Roll: 29 Perception Roll: 31 Total: 172 Attack[26] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 26.00 Defense[86] + 10% Bonus[8.60]: 94.60 Agility[29] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 29.00 Perception[31] + 5% Bonus[1.55]: 32.55 Total[182.15] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 182.15

Ludovic felt her defiance, the sheer ferocity in her every movement as she twisted beneath his hold, her snarl vibrating through her and into him. She was a typhoon made flesh, but he had caught the edge of her storm, his teeth lodged firmly in her hip, unyielding as her strength surged against him. She was older, more experienced, surely. But he was everything his mother had made him into, everything his father had instilled into him; and that was a ruthless combo in combat. His grip tightened momentarily—not to maim, but to bleed and assert control in the split-second before he acted.

"Enough!" he barked through clenched teeth, his voice rough with the strain of exertion yet unmistakably firm. Ludovic released her swiftly and shifted back on light paws, his body retreating just out of reach of her snapping jaws, muscles tense and ready in case she refused to yield. He exhaled sharply, the metallic tang of blood on his tongue a reminder of how close their clash had brought them to the edge of destruction. Shit, what a woman. He huffed, head dropping low as he shook it to regain clarity. He was young, too young, but the interest was there.

His emerald and crimson gaze bore into hers, wild and yet steady, a challenge wrapped in a truce. Debris clung to his fiery fur, his chest heaving as he stood tall, shoulders squared, the lingering energy of their battle still crackling in the air between them. He shivered as he took in her hardened form.

"You fight like a devil unleashed," he said, a wry, teasing grin pulling at his lips despite the sting of his wounds. "But does a devil know when to call a ceasefire?" He shook the dirt from his fur in a casual motion, his posture shifting from combative to composed, though his guard remained subtly raised.

"I hope so." he added, his tone relaxed yet edged with genuine respect. “I’m Ludovic, miss. Thank you for the fight—and the blood.” The boy grinned widely, eyes flashing satisfaction and plea alike. Hopefully she was done tearing into him, because he'd much like to speak with her now.

"Ludovic Praetor-Inferos"

Exposed “Artio” Lebraid Lebraid knew what infelicitous tortures would come from this, yet despite it all, temerity fed the fire. It bled from the very core of this cacodemon’s hellish soul, gambolling in the skin of what could only be described as cataclysmic, a phantom bound by anaemic blizzards born in purgatory. She burdened no magnanimity, no prudence –– simply a verklempt desire to bury them alive. Mayhap it be a challenge of superiority, gaiety, vigour, but did she care? There was truly no telling what Lebraid may or may not do, the pulpy, plush texture of their beefy tissue having triggered a caged ecstasy, with its candied, irony topper spritzing a decorous relish. A ploy of passionate rage, malevolence electrified flesh and fibre, almost groaning at the taut clasp, poisoned with maelstrom on whether it hurt, or if she revelled in it. She may be a foreigner in these lands, but no stranger to a battlefield, nor death and absolute carnage. Even so, their orders only plumed a snarl made of grotesque ruination, unsuccessful in tearing their fucking face off; spitter slummed from agape jaws, canines bared in festooning possession of, well, raw ferity. The holler of wails continued to beg, plead, as warm clots of blood murked Lebraid’s chin and hip. Pain, even, whispered shivers down her spine like a gluttonous beast who yearned for more. For a child, their dauntlessness pillared promise, yet she’d never admit such candour. No, they didn’t deserve it. There was a tempest that brewed in the graveyard’s toneless gaze, jacket jostling a bullish demeanour -- the boy’s words held goad, and she snarled -- they had no idea, truly. Devil’s incarnate, a living nightmare. My, how moronic they must be to believe this would be the end, because she refused to take it as a privation, “For now.” Dark, granular vocals fret past wet lips, poising a discreet warning clothed in covenant hellfire. She’d stare, breath laden and plagued. Ludovic, was it? You see, she wasn’t one to give out privacies so easily, however, in order to get exactly what she wanted, cards must be played. Calculative, manipulative; she ached for more, temptation savaging in low, chasmic rumbles. “Lebraid,” She’d add, eyes never leaving theirs, “Tell me, where do you come from, bairn?” An assumption, an insult, however they chose to take it –– either way, a deadpan expression tuned to demure the mania, skin still twitching with draconic volatility. Action. | “Speech.” | Skill. “Wrong me once, I’ll kill you twice.” Template by Raine <3 [WARNING] Exposed is highly unpredictable in all threads. There's no telling what may trigger it, you've been warned. Template by Raine Current time: 12-03-2024, 10:35 AM Powered By MyBB, © 2002-2024 MyBB Group. Apocalypse --Everything the Light Touches --The Long Night --Dichotomy --Reactive Linear Mode Threaded Mode