Posted by slv. KURAI on August 18, 2008, 2:24 pm, in reply to "OZY'S IN THE HOUSE HE'S DROPPIN PLATES: KURAI (I)" Creeping;
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This is the first sensation he feels. The distant Earth rumbles ever-closer, and his Lightning hisses in its futile fury. But at first Ozymandias is only a hideous silhouette, drawing ever-nearer, his hoofbeats thunderous on the squelching earth, and Kurai is motionless (as always – inexorably still) to his advance.
But then, he feels the thin sinews and wiry muscles holding him together start to melt, fall, tremble. There is pain, but it’s different than battlefield-pain. It’s sickening, weakening pain. For once in his life he is subject to the true manner of mortality, unaided by his Lightning-flashes or shadow-tricks. Things creep inside of him. He can see, in the corner of his eye, something white writhing from a newly-opened wound in his shoulder. But he does not turn. He does not move and he does not react. He is sickened, but this is nothing new; the pain weakens him, but he will detach himself from that. The Nightmare will not squirm and he will not crumble; he can still rationalize. He can still obliterate.
And speaking of rationalization, half-decayed or not, he’s not going to let you come at his haunches in any way, shape, or form. He can hear you coming, and it’s a clear day. He can also see the enormous mud-covered thing coming at him.
So he faces Ozymandias head-on, utilizing that brain which has not yet been completely devoured by larvae.
And now Ozymandias lunges straight up into a rear – no matter what preternatural earth-shaping powers he has, lunging upward on that trajectory is not going to be good for your balance. But either way, Ozymandias is not coming at his ass, because Kurai’s facing him like any sensible horse would. Ozymandias’ teeth fly at Kurai’s head, and the black stallion whips his skull in the opposite direction, away from the oppression of Earth against his Lightning. His forehand follows, and Ozymandias’ strike hits the side of his upper foreleg, above his knee. The pain that follows is explosive and instantaneous; his rotting flesh tears, and crimson maggot-ridden blood spills down over his knee and along the satin-black of his fur. But because his leg is slender, and was just spinning to the right, there is no shattering of bone or the like. The Elemental conflict exacerbates the injury. He’ll limp. Badly.
But now Ozymandias continues on, parallel, though they are not facing in the same direction as planned. And now Kurai very much would like to move away from the slimy feeling of Earth pressed against him, and the pain in his left foreleg. So he throws his weight to the right, swerving his forehand away as Ozymandias launches his double-barrel kick. This is a completely chance escape on Kurai’s part; he only thought to avoid the discomfort of the corpse-lord’s proximity and to shift weight away from his newly-injured foreleg. As it stands, though, he manages to pull most of the way to the right of Ozymandias’ kick attack; the big stallion’s hoof grazes across the back of his already-injured knee, but his leg folds into the glancing shock. More layers of skin tear like sodden paper; there is more pain, and this in itself is a remarkable thing. It explodes now in deep, shaking waves through him. The maggots crawl down to the wounds in his limb.
But he does not waste time. Immediately he rocks his haunches up, haphazard, hiking one far higher than the other as he launches his own double-barrel kick at Ozymandias’ haunches just as they land. This is neither a graceful nor a precise move; most of his weight is precariously balanced upon the right foreleg, and even so there is a tremendous wrenching pain in his half-bent left foreleg. His target is somewhere between Ozymandias’ hock and his stifle, anything to cripple and to inhibit and to destroy those power-packed haunches that he now loathes with such desperate lightning-fury. His two strikes are ballistic, quick and shattering and then at once they must scramble beneath him to catch his flailing balance. He staggers quite badly, careening above the slushy earth. A muscle in his side wrenches as he catches himself, and he hardly dares to put weight on his injured foreleg.
He struggles against the agonizing futility with every fiber of his being.
Stupefy;
He thinks the word – the only clarity he can manage – in some struggling corner of his mind and the effect is instantaneous. There is darkness. And then, there is oblivion. Lights flash in great blinding bursts of empty white, and the air crackles with wild thunder as air molecules split right alongside Ozymandias’ ears. Kurai launches the attack just as Ozymandias is probably still moving (he’s just landing from a kick, and slowing down abruptly on this surface is not wise). The flashing lights will befuddle him, confuse him, twist his mind – he will be disoriented, will have to struggle to find his balance even though he assumes his Earth will save him. No matter what powers he thinks he has, it will not be wise for Ozymandias to move while the world turns topsy-turvy around him. Because of his Earth element, he will be able to think, to an extent. He will be able to see shapes. That being said, movement is not going to serve him well.
Kurai does not cross into his immediate line of vision, and he does not move quickly. Kurai’s eyes are clear in this; he is impervious to the effects of his own power. He walks at Ozymandias’ haunches at a forty-five degree angle, staggering, sliding through the mush even at his slow gait. The pain – slow, inexorable pain – threatens to overwhelm him. Maggots creep. His flesh crawls. The wounds on his foreleg continue to pour blood.
But he’s not finished yet. Never finished. Those pale eyes smile – well played, Earth-lord. And then, he stops, shift his weight to his haunches, and rises, inexorably, into the lightning-torn sky. He will only strike with the right foreleg; the other is held semi-curled, out of harm’s way. Ozymandias will only now be able to distinguish with certainty what this dark shape is; his pale eyes will gleam even through the horrendous rain of Stupefy. But Ozymandias, big, slow, yak that he is, will not have time or orientation to move out of the way. Kurai’s strike aims for the middle of Ozymandias’ spine, the weakest portion. Because of Stupefy, he has the time needed to rear this high. If Ozymandias fancies he knows where Kurai is and tries to move into him, then Kurai will still drop on him. The Nightmare’s logic, his caution, is thrown now with reckless abandon – he will destroy this corpse-monster. He aims to land on the weakest portion of Ozymandias’ back, the bottom of the “sway” if Ozymandias were an old school pony. Kurai is a lightly built horse, but that does not take away the fact that he’s bearing down on Ozymandias with what is easily 1,000 pounds of pressure all targeted on a single small, hard, round projectile. If Ozymandias moves forward, Kurai will hit his croup. Backwards, and he’ll hit his withers. Same basic effect = motion doesn’t happen. To either side and Kurai will hit the tops of his ribs, which will likely crack and make movement implausible and agonizing.
Kurai hits whatever he will and slides off. He stumbles again. One hoof is held completely off the ground; he shuts his eyes, clenches his teeth, maggots still crawling inside of him –
He takes a deep breath, and his entire body is engulfed in a sudden eruption of Lightning, as dead maggots fall from him in impossible numbers and he staggers and sways dangerously toward the ground, Lightning crackling from his mane and the earth unforgiving beneath him.
Well played, Corpsemaster.
Image by akelataka@deviantart.com
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