Seraphim

i?m radioactive, radioactive

Seraphim wasn't sure what had been drawing him in the direction of this place. Instinct had carried him across the snow into the drier southern reaches of Alacritia, an area which he had had yet to venture into. He had been in these lands for months, yet so much was still unfamiliar. He had endured only one event of any significance had been his meeting with the white ex-queen of Tortuga. The thought of that experience brought a dark look to his eyes, the look of the killer that lay dormant within him most days. As of yet, he had no news of the fruit of their union, but he knew that it was close to time for them to be born if they hadn't already.



The alabaster brute found himself on the scene of the last thing he expected, and somehow felt that he had found the reason is natural instinct had led him here. He stood at length from the battle, far enough away that few would notice him and he could only barely make out the forms ahead. His eyes recognized only Morphine, and from this distance he was unsure whether she was still with child or had given birth yet. His eyes narrowed in concentration. If she was still pregnant, this wasn't the best damn decision she could be making. He hoped beyond hope that she wasn't that stupid.



He settled back on his haunches, determined to see this battle through to the end. If anything, it would be good entertainment in this wretched land. He had enjoyed very little entertainment in the past few years.

Tagged: everyone | Word Count: 270

thank you shrap ♥ Her shoulder impacted its initial target, vehemently slamming into the renegade?s chest, her momentum failing her as Cyanide remained rooted to the earth, refusing to budge or be shoved backwards into the mud that the pale fiend intended to make a merciless grave out of. The effort may have been for naught, but the wraith would not be disheartened with the results of the battle thus far ? no; the dance had just begun and she would be granted her opportunity to extract the traitor?s blood before the final stroke of the clock announced the demise of a militant and the conclusion of valorous combat. In the case that her skull should roll across the arena in deathly defeat, she would ensure the traitor would carry wounds in commemoration of her fallen and fierce competitor ? there was no doubt in the ardent wraith?s mind of this. Incisors pierced the thick flesh upon her adversary, failing to inflict the intended damage and potential elimination of Cyanide?s forelimb as her jaws connected with the lower portion of the assassin?s chest ? such a petty consolation for missing her calculated target. The wench would remain true to her intentions, however, and as soon as she had lodged her canines as far as they would penetrate beneath the flesh of her opponent, her jaws would unhitch in an abrupt fashion, she?d backpedal a step, and she?d wrench her skull back, elevating it slightly to its former orientation in alignment with her spinal cord just in time to face the retaliation of her larger opponent. A dull sting of pain briefly emanated from the midsection of her neck as Cyanide latched her teeth into the loose fur lining it there, missing the intended target of Morphine?s nape courtesy of the witch?s slight retreat and bunching the fur lining Morphine?s neck upwards in the direction of her crown and away from the sinewy muscle and bone of her spine. Not wanting to keep her opponent?s teeth lingering beneath the dense fur upon her neck for too long, immediately she?d attempt to wrench her skull upwards, seeking to knock the thick bone of her cranium against the curve of her opponent?s neck (where the mandible and neck meet) to both force the assassin to release her loose grip upon her neck and to force her skull upwards and away from Morphine?s own. While performing the wrench of her skull, Morphine would angle her jaws in towards the upper portion of Cyanide?s neck, now likely exposed due to the fact that she would have had to reach over Morphine?s skull to obtain a grip to the back of her neck, splayed wide open and at the ready for retaliation. Her skull would tilt slightly to her own right, mandible tucked firmly to the curve of her own neck to buffer any attempts to grasp the lower jaw, eyes would remain narrow slits to protect them from damage, and triangular ears would slick against her crown to lessen the possibility of being mutilated. Her limbs, however, would lock in place, her tail would secure itself in alignment with her spine, and her dull claws would carve into the surface of the earth for traction as her opponent launched herself forward, the close proximity between the duo, combined with Morphine?s reflexive defenses, only forcing the wraith to slide backwards and further away from the quicksand-like mud while maintaining her balance. Her chest faced the brunt of impact, but Cyanide?s momentum would fail to severely bruise it there, only managing to insinuate moderate soreness that would only be felt as an aftermath of the battle ? as long as she lived. But now, it was the pallid wraith?s turn to inflict damage upon her opponent, and oh was she ready. Upon impact of her chest, jaws would snake forward in an attempt to seize the upper portion of the presumably exposed neck that would likely have been fed to her jaws during Cyanide?s propulsion forward, jaws attempting to wrap about the middle of her opponent's neck, incisors seeking to pierce the veins within the neck to splatter the battlegrounds with the traitor?s life-sustaining liquid so that both may bathe in it. All the while, defenses would remain secured, preparation for her opponent?s retaliation evident in her stance. round number I ? II ? III ? IV ? V attacks attempt to knock the back of her skull into the curve of cyanide's neck to force cyanide's skull upwards and to force her to release her grip on the back of morphine's neck. as cyanide plunges forward, upon immediate impact morphine attempts to seize cyanide's neck with her jaws. defenses mandible pressed against her neck, eyes narrowed, ears slicked back, jaws gaping, limbs locked, tail aligned with her spine, and claws digging into the earth for traction during cyanide's push forward to stop herself from falling & losing balance. injuries loose flesh upon the middle of her neck grasped by cyanide, potential bruising to her chest where cyanide impacts her. ooc here

Cyanide ignored the dull pain in her lower chest, canines had dug into her flesh, but the ivory wretch had pulled away fast enough not to cause any lasting damage aside from the four punctures that would heal, providing she drove away from this battle victorious... and if she failed her assignment well... she needn't worry about the injuries... a traitor she may be but she had initiated this dual of death and if she lost she would give the ivory bitch a chance to exact her vengeance. She was, if nothing else, a woman of her word, of the finality of such a statement. Keeping her stance broadened and her knees bent, she had managed to more or less absorb the angry blow Morphine had delivered with her shoulder, it would bruise but nothing she couldn't handle.

Cyanide's canines sunk down into thick fur and flesh, near the base of the womans cranium as she attempted to retreat, speed Morphine may have, but she wasn't quite fast enough. It wasn't the grip of death she had hoped for and just as quickly, Cyanide released the excess fur that would get her nowhere, beginning her retreat just as Morphine careened her skull upwards, The smashing of bone would reflect against the left side of Cyanide's lower arcade, knocking her skull to the right and throwing off her momentum moving forward. She would crash into Morphine, succeeding in knocking her backwards but accomplishing little else. Recognizing her precious neck exposed she tucked her head and barely managed to avoid a potential blow of death, ears pinning back to avoid being grasped, eyes squinting to avoid becoming an easy target and tail curling to the right to reestablish her equilibrium and her balance, she could not avoid Morphine's attack but she could redirect the end target. Morphine's teeth would sink into her right cheek and partially against her lower arcade.

The angle being awkward, hopefully the ivory woman would not be able to cease a good enough grasp to cause serious damage and to dislodge her, Cyanide would pull her body to the right, hopefully ripping free of canine, before she would redirect her own attack straight for Morphine's maw. Cyanidewas bigger with a more massive bite, she hoped to overpower her opponent with muscle, throwing her weight into the attack she aimed for Morphine's lower mandible, hoping to catch it in her jaws, this time, keeping her head lower to avoid her neck being exposed. As she moves back towards Morphine, she pushes off with her hind limbs, if her initial attack misses, since its coming from a slight angle to the right, she hopes to smash her weight into Morphine's neck and shoulder, knocking her off balance.

Round 2/5

Attacks: Reaching for Morphine's lower mandible, pushing off with her hind legs to smash ito Morphne's neck/shoulder and hopefully throw her off balance.

Defense: Tail curling to the right to maintain her equilibrium and balance, ears pinned to avoid being grasped, eyes squinted to avoid becoming an easy target, her head lowered to avoid her neck being exposed a second time, Stance broadened, knees bent to maintain equilibrium and stability.

Injuries: Punctures and minimal bruising to the chest, wounds to the cheek and lower part of her jaw (Cant say for sure about this second injury until Morphine's post is made, more than likely minor punctures with scrapes for this one)

thank you shrap ♥ Even before her skull made contact with her opponent with the intention to force her to release her grip, Cyanide relieved Morphine of the grasp to the loose flesh upon the back of her neck, presumably retreating with the knowledge that such a feat was minimal and would get her nowhere near assassinating the pallid wraith as she so desired. Adversary?s teeth would easily vacate her flesh and the minor puncture wounds would bubble with blood, though not quite visible enough through the dense layer of Morphine?s fur. Flesh that had previously been grasped by Cyanide would fall back to cushion her neck just as her cranium impacted beneath that of the renegade?s, successful in knocking the darker woman?s skull away from her own and even causing the other?s momentum to falter ? a bittersweet victory as it granted Cyanide the opportunity to right her wrong and shield her vulnerable neck from Morphine?s hungry and gaping jaws. It was too late to alter the direction her jaws would snap at, and her teeth would seize the left side (Morphine?s POV) of the traitor?s face, upper jaw obtaining the other?s cheek and mandible clamping onto the edge of her opponent?s own, bite no more friendly than it would have been had she successfully pierced the veins within the traitor?s neck as previously intended. Metallic eyes illuminated with victory at the realization that she was so close to having fully grasped her opponent?s lower jaw, intent upon shifting her bite to grasp the entire mandible of Cyanide strong within her. Alas, any attempt she would have made to do so was rebuked as her opponent wrenched her entire figure to the left (Morphine?s POV), successfully extracting Morphine?s teeth from the side of her face in the process; Morphine could only hope that such an abrupt maneuver would ensue pain within the traitor since she?d have had to rip free of her grip. Let?s see that pretty face tattered to pieces. Morphine was no fool; she was more than aware that angles could make or break her, and with Cyanide out of harm?s way at a slight angle to her left, it was unacceptable. Thus, the pallid wench would both take a step backwards and pivot the second she felt her opponent tear to the left so that she could face her head-on, weight evenly distributed across her limbs and tail out to aide her in balance, dull claws grappling the earth as best they could for traction, and neck lowered to align her spinal column. Eyes would remain as slits though opened wide enough to enable her to assess her opponent?s movements and ears would stay pinned to her crown to keep them from becoming easy targets. Jaws would remain gaping in wait for her opponent, mandible still pressed to the curve of her neck to buffer any attempts by the renegade to grasp it, and teeth bared and at the ready. Then, her opponent would lunge in retaliation, jaws snaking forth to obtain a grip upon her own, but Morphine would not have it. To have her mandible within her adversary?s grasp would mean to forfeit her life, and she had no intention of doing so this early on in the battle ? no; she still hadn?t had the chance to truly maim the traitor just yet. Knees would dramatically bend to lower the wraith to the ground even more so than she already was (since she is smaller than Cyanide) to lower her adversary?s chances at grasping her mandible, and she would launch forth to meet her opponent halfway, pushing her weight to the front of her chest to hopefully meet the bottom center of her opponent?s own, intending to use the collision to keep her from falling to the earth and losing her balance. The traitor?s jaws would clamp down onto her top jaw (made possible with Morphine lowering herself during her lunge forward), incisors piercing the bridge of her muzzle and roof of her mouth, causing blood to ooze from the wounds and drops to cascade down her throat. The coppery taste of her own blood was bitter, and yet, a surge of pride coursed through her veins at the realization that she had a chance to grasp her opponent?s mandible and turn the tables; but she would do it right. Right forelimb (Morphine?s POV) would extend before the remainder of her body during her lunge forward to hopefully snake around the midsection of Cyanide?s neck with the intention to apply pressure to the back of her opponent?s neck towards herself to keep the dark woman?s skull close to her own, attempting to limit Cyanide?s chances of pulling away or releasing her grasp upon the top of her muzzle. Meanwhile, mandible would snap upwards with the intention to forcefully clamp down upon her adversary?s own in order to obtain a strong grasp upon it. She would make no movement to break the jaw just yet ? simply focused on seizing the lower jaw first and making the attack as painful as possible for the renegade. round number I ? II ? III ? IV ? V attacks morphine lowers herself and then launches straight forward with the intention to meet cyanide halfway, extending her right forelimb and attempting to snake it around cyanide's neck so that she may forcefully keep cyanide's skull near her own. meanwhile, her mandible snaps upward to catch cyanide's own, only attempting to obtain a strong grasp upon it. defenses lowers herself even more so than she already is because of her short height in order to redirect cyanide's attack to land upon her top jaw, eyes narrowed, ears pinned to crown, neck and tail aligned, mandible pressed to the curve of her neck, weight shifted to the front of her chest to collide with cyanide and keep herself from losing her balance upon impact. injuries minor puncture wounds on the back of her neck, moderate bleeding where cyanide has grasped her top jaw. pending impact injury. ooc okay sooo i didnt know if we were allowed to use pending injuries but i can't assume morphine hit cyanide so yeah >>

Default to Morphine

Due to Cyanide not posting in the allotted time, Morphine is the winner.

Because this is a death match, Cyanide is dead. Morphine may give the killing blow.

thank you shrap ♥ The bruised area upon her chest collided with the adversary?s own, and although the mass of her opponent was inevitably heavier than her own and she should have recoiled due to the weight difference, the combination of her forelimb slithering to wrap about the assassin?s neck and Cyanide?s grip to the bridge of her muzzle kept the pallid wraith pressed up against her opponent, refraining from bouncing backwards or losing her balance in the process. The renegade?s speed did not seem to defy nature and Morphine managed to obtain a successful grip upon her opponent?s mandible, powerful incisors piercing the tender tissue of the woman?s gums and the delicate flesh beyond her chin, a concoction of her own blood and the traitor?s flooding the interior of her mouth with a bittersweet, coppery taste. The crimson liquid trickled down her throat, savoring the sensation of victory only momentarily before she abruptly wrenched her skull downwards, withdrawing her opponent?s teeth from their position lodged into her upper jaw and simultaneously bringing her forelimb to rest stationary upon the ground to maintain her balance in the case that the other should launch forward out of desperation. But any effort the renegade would have made to cease Morphine?s actions would have proven to be futile, for it was then that the pallid wraith thrust her own weight to her hindquarters, all four of her heels digging into the earth to aide her in the motion of an abrupt pullback. The pressure of her jaws increased tenfold, pupils locked upon her opponent?s face so that she could witness the intense look of inexplicable pain that should have wracked the assassin?s features as a grotesque pop! resounded from the depths of her jaws and the opponent?s mandible fell limp with detachment. Her own jaws slackened at the realization of her feat, stepping back a few steps to assess the damage dealt unto her opponent with a devious gleam to her mercury eyes. What she viewed could not have appeased the ardent bitch further ? the renegade?s mandible involuntarily hung limp, blood cascaded from her lips at all angles and tainted her otherwise pristine coat a deep crimson. To others, the sight might have been revolting, but in Morphine?s eyes, the traitor had never appeared so pretty before then. A smirk caressed her countenance as she admired her handiwork for a moment, fully aware that the deed had not quite been carried out ? but what was the traitor to do with a lack of weaponry? After the serpentine queen had received her fill, she lunged forward, neck extending to bring her jaws to the upper portion of the renegade?s neck that she had targeted just before, incisors aiming to penetrate the veins located there and finding success quickly. Jaws encased her opponent?s throat, blood oozing from the areas her incisors had pierced with a rapid flow. Metallic eyes rolled back in their sockets in utter ecstasy and she released her grip, feeling her opponent slide down her front into a heap on the ground, extending a forelimb towards the traitor?s broken jaw to press her forepaw upward, beneath the opponent?s chin to allow the blood to pool in the back of her throat so that the girl may die choking on the liquid. Her visage was vague despite her internal thrill as she observed the traitor dying before her eyes, lowering her muzzle to press against the other?s ear to offer a final sentiment. ?Perhaps in the next life, you will choose your battles more wisely,? she stated darkly, her vocals eerily calm and soft, meant only for the assassin to hear. Once the life had drained from the traitor?s eyes, Morphine pressed her elevated paw firmly against the earth, pupils never straying from the gored corpse. After a few moments of staring in silence, she pivoted back to face the crowd that had gathered, allowing her gaze to dart from each set of pupils on her, curious as to whether or not either present had been a close companion to the now-deceased. She inhaled deeply, the abrupt intake of oxygen puffing out her bloodied chest as she contemplated the right words to say. ?Leave her,? she spoke softly, a hint of a threat lingering behind her words as her gaze travelled the sea of faces once more, wavering upon Nnoitra?s for a fraction of a second longer than the rest. If any would protest the death of an assassin, it would surely be the seasoned male. ?For the birds,? she added quickly, maleficence gleaming within her mercury depths as she glanced up towards the odd creature residing within the tree. And with that, she turned away, trotting off in the direction she had come from. ooc sorry, eve, but this honestly took much longer than it should have :l i hope you understand.

THE TOE BONE'S CONNECTED TO THE

HEEL BONE

A deranged cackle left his beak as his scat plopped upon the features of the other, and he jostled the branch with increased vigor. Pleased with the promise of death today, and the fact that he'd be able to witness it, set his senses aflame. Though one would expect such a raucous creature to make endless noise during the match to the death, Ezekiel merely stood stoically still, too focused on the battle to care about anything else. The wretched beast, I hope she dies--she wanted this, so no more cries! he snarled inwardly, rooting for the fiery white fae that had left the creature to die in the first place.



The battle ended quicker than he thought it would. He observed with glee as the other's lower jaw was popped and ripped clean out of place and his beak clacked with excitement, finding his first target area to pick first. Dialogue slipped from the woman's lips and Ezekiel snickered as the prey was left with him. Without warning or hesitation he glided down, hoping to capture his property while the other were still stunned by the swift and painful death. With a few concentrated rips of his sharp beak, Ezekiel separated the lower jaw from the deceased individual and quickly ascended once more, not trusting the old white male nearby and never taking his eyes off of him. By the time Morphine had begun her trot away, he had returned to his tree, eyeing all below and daring them to challenge the rest of his food, the part still clutched in his beak.



Should they bury her, he'd be sure to know where, and further desecrate the body once they departed from it. And that was one thing Ezekiel was certain of.