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[WRESTLING] Plover vs. Audland IN The Forum
IS IT SHARK WEEK, SUGAR,
OR DID SOMEBODY SCREAM?
Offline
Inactive
26 POSTS ʡ 175
Thing 18 Cycles
Green Thing Bunny

#11
 
MAGICKA LEVEL 100%
RESTORED TO 100%


Had Plover ever been brave enough to visit the Cepheus palace, much less go in deep enough to check out the theater, xe would be thinking of a slapstick comedy right now. An absolutely silly, ridiculous kinda tokusatsu, if the silver screen actually had anything but Rodd Danger and Nest Stories. Audland hits the wall with more grace than xe ever could've dreamed of, and then launches back toward xem like a Olympic-level swimmer rebounding across the pool to hit the finish.

It's an incredible sight and an incredible tummy-impact that would've made Plover spew melted slushie everywhere if there were any less gut happening down there to absorb the blow. Probably would've been a little less impactful had xe not received Audland with such open arms and grinning teeth.

Knocked flat to xir back and ass in an instant, Plover tries to take a page out of the big guy's book of balling-up tricks and ride out the sheer momentum generated by two titanic masses colliding. Xe just so happens to be smart enough to tuck xir face into Audland's neck before it gets snapped by the sheer weight of the backwards-rolling ball that they form once xe's got xir legs entangled again with his.

Xe's less smart about knowing exactly which way is up after the first rotation, the dizziness growing more and more profound until xe can't take it anymore and acquiesces to xir fate of letting go and being utterly smushed a second time.

Round: 5/5
Attempt: Get bowled over and let the train keep rolling, trying to get on top again. Failed, of course.
Defense: This, too, is fat and fluffy.
Injuries: Battered and bruised from being thrown toward a wall. Slightly smushed. Currently dizzy. Utterly impacted by a similarly-heavy meatball.

@Audland, but tagging for Judging!
ROLL
6
Plover attempts Physical Combat ( very literally roll with it! )
Failure!



 
 
A MURMUR FROM THE RUINS
ECHOES SOFTLY AS THE ROOTS UNDO
AND THE BRANCH BECOMES
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142 POSTS ʡ 225113
None 141 Cycles
Origin Cave

#12
 
MAGICKA LEVEL 100%
RESTORED TO 100%


Character: Plover
Age: +3 (3 Cycles)
Magic Level: +1 (Fledgling)

ROUND 1
Attempt: +20
Penalties: -

ROUND 2
Attempt: +17
Penalties: -

ROUND 3
Attempt: +5
Penalties: -

ROUND 4
Attempt: +10
Penalties: -

ROUND 5
Attempt: +6
Penalties: -

Total: 62
Character: Audland
Age: +2 (2 Cycles)
Magic Level: +1 (Fledgling)

ROUND 1
Attempt: +20
Penalties: -

ROUND 2
Attempt: +11
Penalties: -

ROUND 3
Attempt: +11
Penalties: -

ROUND 4
Attempt: +4
Penalties: -

ROUND 5
Attempt: +20
Penalties: -

Total: 69 nice

WINNER: Audland



@Plover @Audland

 
 
avatar art by Silkwyrm!
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Lone Gembound
133 POSTS ʡ 1395
He/him 17 Cycles
Valkhound YspobDon

#13
 
MAGICKA LEVEL 87%
RESTORED TO 100%


It takes quite a few heavy huffs before Audland feels safe to feel... anything at all, to be honest. Anything besides the titillating sensation of another's fur at his fingertips and the reverberations of so many successive impacts rippling across his entire body. Besides that ever present buzz, all Audland could think for the longest time, all he could hear, was inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

In—then:

Dear Maker, what had he just done?

More than that: what had they just accomplished?

What did the crowd think? The judge? Who- who won?? Did that— was that a relevant question, right now? When he was wrapped in the arms of—

Audland craned his neck out, away from Plover, to get a better look at xem. The rest of him remained entangled thoroughly; their limbs would have been a nearly unintelligible whirl if it weren't for their strikingly different color schemes. Words—shaky, quiet, only meant for the two of them: "You never do stop smilin', do ya?" A lopsided smirk of his own to accompany them. No arrogance intended; if anything it was a model attempt at friendliness for Audland.

A tingle rustles the edge of Audland's shoulder blades. Eyes bore down on him. He needs to get up. Assuming he can detach himself from his grounded companion—competitor?—quickly enough, Audland would be able to get away from Plover before a fire attempted to erupt from his back, dissolving all their shared warmth with its sudden, unnatural cold.

The black flame spitted and lurched from the skin on his back, singing the tips of the fur there and causing him to wince in the middle of his smirk. (Something he could easily play off as a headache given the, well. Everything.) But, to his surprise, it wasn't as large an outburst as he'd thought it would be. Hand it to Chaos to be unpredictable.

"Eh-ahem. I believe that concludes our..." What was this? What are we? "...er, match." The way Audland leans into the -tch is crisp, crunchy. Searching for meaning and apprehensive about the prospect of finding any. "Are you, by any chance, hungry?" After exhausting all his momentum for the simple purpose of being caught so firmly in those soft, strong arms, it was hard to get the ball rolling again. But it was Audland's nature to maintain composure wherever he could muster it.

@Plover
ROLL
13
Audland attempts to Cast Spell — Cursed Flame ( letting off some steam )
Successful!




 
 
IS IT SHARK WEEK, SUGAR,
OR DID SOMEBODY SCREAM?
Offline
Inactive
26 POSTS ʡ 175
Thing 18 Cycles
Green Thing Bunny

#14
 
MAGICKA LEVEL 100%
RESTORED TO 100%


Thoroughly smushed and finding xemself rather incredibly comfortable underneath all the fur and sheer mass, Plover forgets for a moment that they're actually supposed to be in a wrestling match. Or maybe that's the sugar crash talking. It's most likely that, because the green thing just grins wider (and almost drunkenly) when Audland comments on xir pearly whites. "I GRIN SO MUCH THAT ANYTHING ELSE MAKES MY FACE FEEL SORE!"

Sounds a bit of an exaggeration, but it's the pure, unadulterated truth. Especially when Audland does finally peel away and Plover does frown just a small bit to lament the loss of xir weighted blanket. It (the frown) doesn't last long, though, because Plover schemes at the same time that Audland bursts into a lick or two of flame; planning to get him good and tired enough to do a little more of that laying around together business.

Hauling up to sitting— legs straight and one pair of dirty hands on xir equally dusty knees— Plover licks xir lips and snaps xir teeth with an audible clack! of excitement. Match be damned: "OH, YEAH! HUNGRY'S MY MIDDLE NAME!"

(Plover doesn't have a last name, nor the knowledge of what one of those is. Attikias hasn't gone over that one with xem yet.)

Xe hoists up to xir feet then, gathering a fistful of sand into each dusty mitt on the way up, and plods over to Audland. Beady eyes fix on the fire singing at his back with a little more nonchalance than fire should permit, and xe says, "YOU'VE GOT A LITTLE SUM'N ON YOU ..." before promptly throwing both (gratuitous) handfuls onto the fire to smother it.

"THERE WE GO." Xe then proudly states, "FIRE SAFETY!"

A small plume of dust scatters up from Audland's shoulder when Plover claps a palm down onto it twice, takes a few steps toward the breakroom and snack bar, and pauses to gesture toward him with the same open palm:

@Audland

 
 
avatar art by Silkwyrm!
Offline
Lone Gembound
133 POSTS ʡ 1395
He/him 17 Cycles
Valkhound YspobDon

#15
 
MAGICKA LEVEL 100%
RESTORED TO 100%


Audland's brow goes slightly up at Plover's grinning confession. To smile that wide so much it makes you feel sore? Xe conjures a beautiful world. Audland doesn't comment on it (perhaps due to being in kind of the same boat, albeit for different reasons). Audland would also neglect to comment on the glimpse he caught of that smile breaking into a frown upon his introduction of a spacious vacancy between them. Xe would understand it later, but that wasn't what bothered him. Something else was crawling under his skin.

It wasn't the same feeling creeping through him like the burning tendrils that bound him to the hateful coil of exacting revenge upon that one pest from the dungeon. Just thinking about that one made cold sparks jump from Audland's hide. Thinking about this though, watching it happen; it crawls under his skin and it sends sparks through him as well, but in the opposite direction. Intuition suggests that this isn't even as big as this whatever-it-is gets. Audland doesn't know what it will look like if the feeling gets worse. Doesn't know if that's what he wants to see. Is it?

Audland doesn't offer a hand to help Plover up. He thinks about it, but abstains. And when he does, Audland blames it on the fire that is point-two seconds from bursting through a random part of his body against his will. But in the back of his mind he knows that there is a lick of unfamiliar nervousness to blame as well.

Audland doesn't know it yet, but Plover isn't planning on giving him a choice.

He stares in mild confusion as Plover speaks of a "middle name". As through a name could be in the middle of something. His head tilts slightly and chuffs out a weak little "Heh," but besides that Audland leaves no external indication of his befuddlement. When Plover tries to douse his flames with several pawfuls of sand, Audland winces but remains neutral, curtly grunting out a "Thanks," even if the unnatural fire doesn't dim all that much from the attempt.

'FIRE SAFETY!' "Heh. M' whole body is a fire hazard." The inherent sauciness of that sentence phrasing might have made Audland flush underneath those many miles of fur. We'll never know for sure. He doesn't comment on that either. Instead, he lets his own silence fill the cracks forming in his placid demeanor while his eyes follow Plover's motions like a cat on a laser dot. Or perhaps in this moment, as he stands in front of a Plover who is planning his cuddly demise, Audland better fits the role of a rabbit wearily watching its captor.

Then Plover outstretches a hand that makes Audland's neurons fire up just enough to help him conceive of the notion that he now has something of a snack date to attend to. To look forward to, even, if he chooses to do so.

Audland stares at the hand in idle confusion, unsure for a moment of what it means for him to do, and then for another moment of whether or not he should—? would—? wants to—? partake. The whatever-it-is feeling is growling at him and he can't tell whether that makes him more curious or afraid—and upon realizing that, Audland realizes that the whole thing is just silly. The logic should be as simple as this: given how close their bodies were mere moments before, being stingy now is more like being cheap—or worse, chickening out. (Plus it might make Plover frown again, and Audland was long past the end of his will to further pain his fellow green edition fuzzy meatball.) Audland supposed that he would simply have to smile and accept his fate: he awkwardly slides his hand against Plover's with a lightness and uncertainty that he had not displayed in the tussle prior. Whatever Plover does with that remains to be seen.

Audland would let Plover lead him away to... wherever xe planned on going. To the victor go the spoils. It was finally time to EAT!

- exit -
@Plover

 
 



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