There was so much going on, so much noise. Fallah tried to stay close fo Fisher and Black, but... she had been scared. Finally, she built up the courage and came in. There was fighting all around. So many things happening that she couldn't comprehend it. She knew why she was here; she had to help Fisher and Black. Everything else could be ignored. Where were they? Where were her friends? When she finally made it, however, she could only see Fisher on the ground next to Black. The lynx would run up to her long brown friend and aim to nudge him. She could tell he wasn't dead and, for a moment, she felt a rush of relief. Calling to Black, Fallah tried to make her intentions loud and clear, "Get Fisher. Leave. Hurry!"

Fallah's face was serious and no longer scared. Her eyes narrowed and her lips wrinkled into a snarl as she hissed the word "hurry" to her friend. She prayed he would listen, but didn't stay to find out. Kicking off, Fallah turned to the dragon. It was hot and glowing and looked like fire. Fallah could cool that down, right? She could. She could take down any enemy that dared to hurt Fisher or Black. Any creature that touched them. They saved her, and now she owed them her life. Dashing forward, Fallah aimed for the deepest glow in the dragon. For the first time since her re-hatching, Fallah summoned her magic. This monster would regret even looking at her friends.

Raheerah barely felt it when the weight was lost from his back - he shook out his thick, leathery hide and though the pain of the radioactive attack remained embedded in his skin, he hoped that the flea that inflicted it had long gone from his otherwise extensive list of problems. Of course, the most obvious of his problems was the sudden whirlwind of glass that whipped up around his head, causing the dragon to snarl and hide his face. They cut through his scales, leaving numerous tiny, agitating scratches and prompting him to utter another furious bellow. All the while an explosion of ice collided with his chest, further burning him with its cold. These impudent little monsters - who made them so strong? How dare they? Didn't they know they were dealing with the chaos beast?

The dragon whipped his hands away from his face and cracked open his jaws, unleashing yet another blast of fire. He swept his head from left to right, hoping to incinerate all the little annoyances that were gathered around him - only the fire hadn't come, his chest still cooled by the phoenix's magic. Curling his lips back with an enraged snarl, Raheerah turned his body and slammed his massive tail into the wall, once more shaking the ground, walls and ceiling and causing a collection of debris to fall onto everyone in the room, including himself.

Delphine does 19 damage to Raheerah.
Fallah does 13 damage to Raheerah.
Cancer takes 10 damage from falling and broken armor.
Raheerah does 10 damage to everyone.

Raheerah has 694/1000 hit points.
Moth NPC has 67/200 hit points.
Tenzin has 958/1000 hit points.
Deer Dad has 382/500 hit points.

Black has 7/100 hit points. (K.O.'d)
Leon has 60/100 hit points.
Cancer has 31/100 hit points.
Fisher has 2/100 hit points. (K.O.'d)
Dragon has 8/100 hit points. (K.O.'d)
Ghanyarah has 17/100 hit points.
Czernobog has 50/100 hit points.
Arkrael has 70/100 hit points.
Louie has 70/100 hit points.
Delphine has 50/100 hit points.
Baratheon has 36/100 hit points.
Fallah has 90/100 hit points.

(Don't forget, new characters are always welcome to join this quest at any time!)

As the league of Gembounds all around him consistently slammed the dragon with attacks of their own, Ghanyarah had to step back and attempt to draw water back into his body - it was hard especially with the high temperatures of Polaris, the room practically being entirely on fire. He gritted his teeth and focused, and eventually wicked enough moisture from the air to make one final attempt at an attack at the dragon. Granted, this was after he recovered from various attacks the dragon had made against the group as a whole - blasting him back with great beats of his massive wings, shaking the earth - Ghanyarah had eventually resolved to just flatten himself against the ground and brace for anything else that would happen, scowling as rocks and dust crashed onto him.

The komodo finally shook out his thick hide and extended his limbs, standing high upon the ground. He fixed his pink eyes on the massive beast and willed all the energy within himself to make one final gambit against - at the very least - inconveniencing him.

He hit, the larger dragon, right in the shoulder. With a roar of triumph he started to turn and regroup for another attack but felt himself thrown off balance by a huge gust of wind. He tumbled head over tail through the air, trying to gather himself but couldn't. Or rather... He couldn't because he didn't have time before he felt a crippling pain on his belly and underneath his wing arm. Raheerah had him! Baratheon screeched in agony, never having felt what it was like to be in someone else's fangs. It was a new and unwelcome sensation... Now he knew what prey felt like or what his victims felt when they were under attack by his feral self.

He thrashed about, trying to dislodge himself but only ended up hurting himself more in those jaws. He needed to get free... He needed... He felt himself moving through the air at a startling speed, straight towards the ground. Everything was a blur of color and motion until he hit with a bone-jarring thud. His body was immobile for a moment, he couldn't even think as his mind had blanked out.

Blood seeped out from the puncture holes in his belly scales and the shredded skin underneath his wing arm. From the impact on the ground his left horn was broken in half, the sharp point laying a few feet away. For a few minutes he was out of it, body being further bruised by the chaos all around him. Finally though, he opened his eyes and no longer were they pink but blood red. In the heat of the moment when he was in mortal danger and in the immense amount of pain his body kicked in its only defense.

Slowly, hurt and almost crippled he rose. One wing lifted into the air while the other, on the same side that Raheerah chomped, hunt limply towards the ground in a useless fashion. However, this was all ignored as Baratheon stared defiantly up at the massive assailant. In his body he was building up an attack...

There was no blood, no prey... Just the challenger. The chaos all around him meant nothing, the tiny scurrying things were insects. He was not prey, he would not fall victim... He wanted his revenge.

---

words: 381
tagged: Quest
ooc: He has a scar on his belly from the fight with Nemesis. Left horn is broken in half, deep puncture wounds in his belly, skin and fur under his left wing arm are ripped, left wing arm is broken (2 week healing time), Various bruises
muse: 6/10

"Speech"
Thoughts

Her attack hit. The enemy roared. Was this like the strange being in Cetus? Could she bow down to the king and turn him? The dragon slammed its tail into the wall and debris fell. Fallah crouched, but pieces scraped and thunked by anyway. When it seemed to still for a minute, Fallah looked back, but couldn't see Fisher or Black. No, she couldn't bow to this king. A snarl rose in the feline's chest, her eyes squinting. All she saw was the orange glow from the dragon. That was her target. Skirting to a boulder, Fallah aimed to hide behind it, peering out to summon her magic and blast the king in the face with another ice blast, following the pinkish dragon's (Ghanyarah's) lead. She wouldn't let this enemy leave her sight until he was... well, Fallah didn't think that far into it, she just really hated this being. She never hated anything this much. How dare it hurt her family? It was this king that made her cool temperament turn to fire, and he would regret making her angry. "speak"

The world swirled around him, all fire-lights and thunderous sound, and he loved it.

He loved every second of it; he only wished he could continue to fight. But his body had failed him.

Burned, thrown, boulders rained upon him; his back was split in a dozen places, the pink flesh beneath seared by dragon's fire. His vision had blurred, his form--meant for lurking in dark water to snag fish, not racing over stone to tackle much larger prey--lying limp on the scorched rock a few dozen yards away from Raheerah.

The exhilarated bloodlust still ran through his barely-conscious mind, the glee of combat still racing through him. He could barely see the massive shape, its strength whittled away by a dozen attacks from all sides; he could barely make out the wisps of icy air and water battling with the powerful plumes of Raheerah's flame.

He struggled to move his webbed, clawed legs--to rejoin the battle--but he could not.

His gaze travelled over Ghanyarah, still battling doggedly, and he was proud. His brother could be vicious, but didn't seem the sort to fight foolish battles--yet this was not a winning war, and still he fought.

He saw Czernobog, charging in with a roaring bellow rather than his piglet's squeal, and his heart swelled with joy, the grin still etched on his crocodilian face--granted, he couldn't change that, but it suited his joy. His pride.

He was chaos; his children of Rot were chaos.

He went limp at last, no longer struggling to move. He was content, basking not in warm sunlight but in chaos. In utter chaos.

He'd known it since his birth; regardless of the body he wore, this was where he gloried. In battle, in madness, in the tumbling of rocks and the primordial expression of power through the strife of life and death. He hadn't meant that he was a literal winged beast of nightmare. That was never what he meant, even if he envied Raheerah's wings, or Aquarian's vast size.

He was at peace here, in the midst of a battle, despite the fact that a single swipe of the dragon's talons could end him. It didn't matter. He revelled in this.

He was chaos; he was madness. He was fire.

"I am Dragon," he gurgled, blood seeping through the conical fangs to drip slowly onto the rock below.

And--wheezing and choking as he watched the battle continue to unfold--he began to quietly laugh.

{ art by dark } ~ { table by aura . edited by banshee and dark }

((NOTE: This is a ko'd post, just to explain what Dragon is doing /ON THE GROUND/ ))

There came a sharp squawk as the crow seemed to decide to wake up from whatever extended daydream she was in. There came the frantic fluttering of wings as the tiny black figure darted across towards the fallen alligator, wide-eyed and chirruping as she nudged his snout with with her beak.

Eve looked between the alligator and the exit of Polaris with a croak that sounded more like a whimper than the usual proud sound she usually gave out. "Dragon? Dragon, you stop laughing when you're dying!" the crow demanded, still nudging.

tagging this post as mature for gore warning (lighter grey text is gore, feel free to skip it)

As the ground shook and piles of rocks began to fall on the occupants of the cave, two of the creatures below had simultaneously decided to hit him with that familiar, biting cold of ice - he felt it, two sources of ice beginning to rapidly spread across his face between his eyes. Raheerah stood back and viciously shook his head from side to side, clacking his teeth - but he couldn't stop the ice from growing around his face and steadily beginning to ice over his eyes, freezing them shut. An agonized howl ripped form his maw and he tried to summon the heat in his body, tried to melt the ice - it was going slow, especially with the impairment imparted by the ice phoenix. In the mean time, he hadn't even noticed the furry white dragon make another attempt to fight him. Far below, all the energy the dragon attempted to dispel suddenly exploded from him but in entirely the wrong way. Pressure built up beneath his skin and burst forth from his already open wounds, from his nose and mouth, in the form of ropes of blood. The greatest pressure built up in the furry white dragon's head, relieved only by his left eye exploding from its socket in a spray of blood and humor, leaving the optic nerve severed and eyeless.

Raheerah shrieked and attempted the only thing he could think to do - whatever heat remained in his body he summoned to his skin, intending to burn his scales and emit a cloud of thick, disgusting smoke. The burn sizzled against his hide and suddenly thick billows of smoke began to fill the room, heavy and rancid enough to incite coughing fits and irritate the eyes of those within the room.

Ghanyarah does 18 damage to Raheerah.
Fallah does 7 damage to Raheerah.
Baratheon takes 30 damage for failed Pulsar.
Raheerah does 10 damage to everyone except himself.

Raheerah has 670/1000 hit points.
Moth NPC has 57/200 hit points.
Tenzin has 948/1000 hit points.
Deer Dad has 372/500 hit points.

Black has 7/100 hit points. (K.O.'d)
Leon has 50/100 hit points.
Cancer has 21/100 hit points.
Fisher has 2/100 hit points. (K.O.'d)
Dragon has 8/100 hit points. (K.O.'d)
Ghanyarah has 7/100 hit points. (K.O.'d)
Czernobog has 40/100 hit points.
Arkrael has 60/100 hit points.
Louie has 60/100 hit points.
Delphine has 40/100 hit points.
Baratheon has 6/100 hit points. (K.O.'d)
Fallah has 80/100 hit points.

(Don't forget, new characters are always welcome to join this quest at any time!)

Disorientation was a sensation she should have been used to but such was not the case as her head swam with grogginess still, rendering her inert as the battle raged on. She could barely register the heat of the flame before it seared along her sable pelt and forced her to reel away, nearly tripping as she hobbled a safer distance away. The pain though would not be so merciful as the young mare gasped against a sensation so foreign as a near-burn. By the time she came to, her eyes would witness a horror that would forever haunt her. Blood, sanguine ichor, roped from her friend's open wounds, burst forth as if it had a mind of its own but the worst was yet to come. Just when she'd thought to react, Baratheon's eye burst and with it, Delphine's sanity nearly fled her altogether in a shriek that was nearly inhuman.

Her senses would not return then even as the room filled with smoke for all that she saw, past the slow asphyxiation and her burning eyes, was the gore that painted a friend too dear. Again and again the image flashed behind closed eyes until the equine could take no more and her power surged forth, frenzied and without control. Her one singular thought being that if this chaos dragon had never come to, this would never have happened. Baratheon would not be so mortally wounded as he was now and again, her magic pulsed and the earth trembled again, its fury directed to the black dragon with the same force as the first time around. She wanted him gone. For the first time, Delphine wished death unto another.

Azazel seemed to be oblivious today. He didn't hear the massive clamours rising from the core. He had been sneaking through Polaris, travelling through it only to go into a different tunnel, namely Tunnel H to move into Cetus. He had heard tell of a group that had formed in there. May as well attempt diplomacy, right?

As soon as the Bone King turned a corner and found the room, the whole room shook. That dragon... the Gembounds were fighting them. He could see a group of them who had assembled to fight the monster. Some Gembound were so much braver than he was. Carmine eyes blinked, and he gasped. Baratheon. Blood spurted from every opening in the white creature, and the poor thing was left defenseless and vulnerable. He could see others crippled and broken. That made him furious. Clicking his beak together, he decided diplomacy would be for another time.

Swerving side to side and adjusting his wings accordingly to avoid all of the rocks and debris crashing down from the ceiling, Azazel gave a strong cry and called all of his magicka forth. Focusing it upon that monster of a dragon from afar, Azazel dearly hoped to cripple him, albeit rocks crashing down on him or holding him in place so others could attack. He could only wait to see, hovering in place.