[ 1v1 ] Horn Polishing and Tail Braiding (Soren/West)

[Smerdle]

For no less than the eighth time this morning, West casually and suspiciously strolled past the edge of the horsemen's camp, offering a phony little salute to every pony he passed. The War horsemen received a slightly more genuine greeting. West kind of hated himself for that.

He knew that he would never be able to fight them effectively if he didn't know more about them, but if knowing more about them meant becoming too familiar, he would rather stay right where he was. With an irritated sigh, West curled his hands into fists and stalked toward the gym. He felt the need to hit something.  

[ramenli]

Red eyes tracked the student's stroll, watching as he greeted every horseman he passed. But the real question was what the boil was doing there in the first place. It was unusual for Soren to pay much attention to one of the students, "scarelings" that they were. But there was just something off about this colt. Like the way that he turned and walked away, his stride taking on a different tone than before.

So it was curiosity that had Soren following him, but more of curiosity if he was up to something, and if it would affect the Lost Clan than about the student himself. He half expected him to double back, but the student made his way all the way to the school. Still Soren trailed after him, his large form oddly quiet as he used the skills he might have used to track prey. Into a building it was, an odd structure that seemed to be...a training grounds? There were others present, sparring, working on dummies...some things obviously meant for fighting, others possibly just for exercise. Still he followed after the red-haired demon, and now he approached. This was a place for fighting, and even if he had left his face plate at home he would not mind engaging in a casual battle. "Were you looking for a specific horseman?"

Smerdle

Look ma, a whole sentence spoken out loud.

IDC about who goes first if you dont want to roll, or just roll and we'll do it legit~

 

[Smerdle]

He didn't notice his tail until the Guardian spoke to him, a mistake that might have cost him dearly if he'd made it in a more dangerous location. West turned slowly, peering at the horseman with a strange mixture of distrust and awe. He wanted to like you, he really did, but you had let him down. Not you in particular, Soren, but still.

"No, um, I..." He didn't think it would go over well at all if he admitted he wanted them to haul their top priestess out into the street so he could smack her around, so he lied. "I was jus' lookin' fer somebody t'fight. Anyone'll do. I thought a horseman might teach me somethin', so I... hung around near 'em. You." He wasn't sure he wanted to fight this horseman, but he would give it a shot. "I'm West." There was always dissipation.

ramenli

i'm so proud of you soren ;3;

And I'll just roll some initiative because it's easier than asking my indecisive a** to choose who goes first. :B

 

[ramenli]

Soren studied the student for a long moment. Not sure if he believed him but in the end accepting his answer. So he liked to learn the hard way, that was fine. He rolled his shoulders, loosening up for the fight ahead. "Soren."

He glanced around the gym, taking in the sights once more before removing his gauntlet and setting it down out of the way. No weapons orders, and that armor could double for offensive purposes. "Your home, your advantage."

Smerdle

Sorry, phone post!

 

[Smerdle]

He narrowed his eyes at the gauntlet, pulling his arm back to swing at the horseman before aborting the punch completely. West knew what War horsemen looked like, of course, and had even taken notice of Conquest's more elaborate clothing, but Soren's garb wasn't setting off any similar alarms for either faction. It was true that the boil had spent a memorable week on the Isle of Death, but he hadn't really had the opportunity to examine the... stallions there? West almost laughed at his mental label, but thought better of it. Still, he didn't peg this horseman as a member of Famine, if only because his only example of their kind was Cymbeline and, well, Soren didn't seem insane. If he was Death, West kind of wanted to hit him even harder.

"No. You." He lowered his hands, ducking into a defensive crouch instead.

HP: 40
Damage: 0

ramenli

no u

 

[ramenli]

So this colt was not going to attack and take the advantage. Soren looked at him for a moment, mentally calculating. But there was no reason for him not to take the advantage, no reason for him not to attack. And this one needed the lesson that one always pressed the advantage it seemed. "Very well."

As he spoke his Fear began to form, leaving him holding his khopesh. It was almost a casual movement as he lifted his hand and made a diagonal slash. No spared niceties here. That should teach the red-haired colt something or other, a valuable lesson, surely.

HP: 40
Damage: 6

Smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

Yeah, he had been asking for that. West took a step back as Soren slashed, but it was too late. Somehow, he hadn't known they had weapons. He wondered what Medea killed things with.

The boil winced, but it didn't last long. He lunged after the curved blade, aiming his fist at the arm that was holding it.

HP: 34
Damage: 3

ramenli

 

[ramenli]

The student got in a good blow but it was on the meaty part of his upper arm, meaning that his Fear shield buckled a bit but there was no real damage and it was easy to just fight through it. It was strange how easily the colt had pulled him into a fight, considering he was not one that particularly enjoyed training, but the fragment glinting from where it held his fur together on his chest seemed to enjoy it well enough.

He struck back with an elbow as the colt was within range, not really after him for his Fear, just showing him where they each stood. He was a horseman, and this boil would fall to him in this learning process. Until Soren gets dice trolled

HP: 37
Damage: 3

Smerdle

Award winning dialogue for this fight *A* <333

 

[Smerdle]

West didn't notice the fragment. Well, actually he did, but he didn't think it was anything more than some sparkly trinket his opponent had brought with him from the islands. Jewelcrafters. Soren seemed built for other things, but the association placed this horseman firmly in Death anyway. Death horsemen deserved pretty things, and West had something pretty for this one.

His fist began to glow as he was nudged aside. West circled Soren, waiting for something that wasn't immediately clear, but soon after the boil's face lit up like he'd heard the timer that indicated his brownies were done. He rushed forward, but the fist he swung curved back around and smacked him in the chin instead.

Why did that never work out like he'd planned?

HP: 31 - 3.2 (rounded to 3) = 28 (i changed my mind, decimals are dumb)
Damage: 0
Effect: Y1 Gambler's Chance FAIL AS PREDICTED rawk

ramenli

:B

 

[ramenli]

Soren watched as the colt...punched himself in the face and paused for just a split second. "I don't need help," he informed him, but there was just a hint of amusement in his voice. But really, who wouldn't be laughing at someone that had just punched himself in the face?

Once again it was with his weapon that he struck. He was no speedy thing that could not be avoided, but when he struck there was certainly strength behind it, so even a glancing blow might do a fair amount of damage. All he was really interested in was putting this one in his place. Just like walking into Mordor one did not simply spar with a horseman.

HP: 37 (Decimals think your dumb)
Damage: 6

Smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

"Yeah... I..." West had no reasonable excuse for his self-punching. Sometimes things like that just happened. Plus he was being swung at again, so it was probably best to just keep his mouth shut. The fact that he'd even tried to explain himself at all had left him open to Soren's strike yet again. He winced slightly, then stood up as tall as he could.

"I didn't come 'ere t'fight a damn..." The boil let the words die in his throat as he jumped forward and lashed at the horseman. He had been so very close to spitting out the word "reaper," but Soren was nothing like Hel or Mot or Roch. He seemed eons old by comparison, and not for the first time this week, West wondered what it would take to get all of them to leave Halloween alone. Nothing, most likely. Not with Medea leading them.

"Won't be helpin' ya anymore this fight," he said with a smirk, readying himself for the next blow.

HP: 22
Damage: 4

ramenli

blah blah blah always medea angst blah blah pecans heart

 

[ramenli]

The colt seemed unsure of what to say, pausing, trailing off. Angry. Just a confused little colt trying to act like a stallion. But finally he settled on a sense of smugness, and at least he was fighting properly.

His khopesh flashed out, aiming for the colt's let, hoping to maim, to cripple. Once the colt was unable to get very far from him he could take his time to dismantle the remainders of his Fear shield. "I think I'll manage," he said a bit dryly.

HP: 33
Damage: 5

Smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

Soren's khopesh did its job well enough; though West had never been terribly fazed by physical pain, he was feeling a little maimed at the moment and chose to stay near the horseman rather than bounce around trying to dodge.

With a grunty shout, West jabbed his fist at Soren's neck, only backing off a couple of shambling steps after the punch connected.

HP: 17
Damage: 7

ramenli

show spoilerhide spoiler

 

[ramenli]

The punch to the neck...actually did its job rather well and for a moment Soren found it hard to breath.

During that moment he did not really try to attack West. He did still swing his khopesh out, but more as a warning. Back up, give him space. Maybe trying to make the colt waste energy by attempting to dodge. But really the attempt was lackluster at best, and even an old mare put out to pasture could have dodged it.

HP: 26
Damage: Only to Soren's pride

 

[Smerdle]

He saw the warning and knew he should back off, but West struck again instead. A grin spread across his face even as he stumbled on his injured leg. At least he wasn't punching himself anymore.

HP: 17
Damage: 4

ramenli