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CYCLE 120Current time: Apr 04 2025, 03:19 PM


[WRESTLING] Orthoclase-Alpha vs. Nemesis IN The Forum
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White Trinoceros Shafaer

#21
 
MAGICKA LEVEL 97%
RESTORED TO 100%



Heaving heavy breaths and trying not to choke on her own blood, eyes going wide as Shengxiao bolted into the ring. "Don't get too close--" she warned, though she was glad the round was forced to an end. It wouldn't be good if Orthoclase-Alpha had to keep fighting, that wild look in its eyes reminded her of too many Gembounds that had gone off the deep end.

The dark violet kin of Alpha growled, voice booming over the stage, and it tore her attention away for a split moment. Molars ground together, biting back the urge to cough, though in that brief instance she wanted to spit at his feet. Of course they were both strong, but that wasn't--

"I'm fine," Nemesis grunted as a black-winged dog came clambering over. She didn't protest otherwise, wincing as plants grew deep into her wound. The pain was a good thing, she presumed. It was helping her skin stitch together and staunch the bleeding. Another deep breath through her nostrils. She didn't have the time to thank Oliver, however, because Orthoclase-Alpha had snapped into motion.

Shit, she knew the others needed to stay back. Against perhaps better judgement, she threw herself forward at the first sign of movement from the other titan. She knocked Shengxiao aside with a brush of her frill, throwing her own bulky, armored frame in the path of Alpha.

Hooks came scrambling down the side of her armored shoulder, and she threw her head back, knocking aside those dangerous sickle claws. "Everyone, get back!" She roared. "Give them space!" Her stare bore into the wild chartreuse green like an ocean's violent storm, and she would not back down until everyone else was safe. This was a cornered animal, and a dangerous one.


@Shengxiao @Orthoclase-Alpha and whoever else :3c
ROLL
12
Nemesis attempts to use Technique — Protectors Bulwark ( block alpha's attack )
Successful!




 
 
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Fantastic Beast of Good Fortune Ollie

#22
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He flinched, moving back as alpha stretched his claws out but whimpering in shock as nemesis seemed to shove him out of the way, backing from alpha further aswell. "yes, get back.. sorry" he apologized softly.

@Nemesis @orthoclass-alpha

(sorry for short)


 
 
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#23
 
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Its claws never found their intended target, and were knocked aside. The bulk that crowded in was grey, but all the kaiju saw was red. Slicking up and down the front legs. Dribbling on the floor even with the weaving on them. The wound on its face throbbed faintly, and maybe it was bleeding again, agitated by so much movement and crashing around.

Not that it was any state to worry about what it was doing to itself; only what others might be about to do. Nemesis was standing before it, points bared dangerously. Too close - the monster's flanks heaved, and neon-green spittle was foaming up and dribbling from its panting jaws - too close. Vibrantly-glowing eyes darted around, towards the stands and back to the trinoceros and the weapons on her face.

As long as she was near, its pulse was rushing and it was lightheaded with all the rage of a cornered predator - or, perhaps, a tiger in a circus.

The kaiju hissed and spat out what saliva had gathered in its mouth and lunged teeth-first for the horn on Nemesis's nose. There wasn't much restraint in the attempt to crack, shatter, break, anything it. One less thing to punch through its chest and into its heart -

All that could possibly assuage it was having it burn out, knocking it out, or miraculously evacuating the entire arena. Only two of those were really possible.


Fight... TWO!?
Round: 1/5?
Attempt: Bite that nose horn real hard.
Defense:
Injuries: All prior bruises

@Nemesis
ROLL
6
Orthoclase-Alpha attempts to use Technique — Berserk ( going apeshit )
Failure!



 
 
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#24
 
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Nemesis had only a split second to feel bad about Shengxiao's quiet squeak of an apology; he had been protecting her, after all, and the acrimony of her quick snap judgement had been... well. She'd have to apologize later, because razor sharp zipper teeth were lashing out at her face.

Shit! The follow-up attack was vicious, ivory connecting with ivory, acidic spit sloshed across her face. She threw her head to the side, knocking Orthoclase-Alpha's jaws aside, and with the side of her frill she forced her way forward. She had to create space, give the others room to clear the arena. It was too dangerous.

Heels dug into the blood-stained earth, neck straining; maroon seeped into the greenery that formed a stitching bandage on her throat. Her one blessing was that the adrenaline hadn't worn off and she wasn't feeling a thing.


Fight... TWO!?
Round: 1/5?
Attempt: redirect Alpha's attack and shove it back
Defense:
Injuries: patched up neck wound, scratches on flank
@Orthoclase-Alpha
ROLL
15
Nemesis attempts to use Technique — Riposte ( knock Alpha back without impaling it )
Successful!




 
 
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Ivory indeed connected with ivory, but only for a fleeting moment. Nemesis jerked its grip loose, and knocked her frill against it yet again; forcing it back a few paces. Not attacking back. The kaiju should've stopped then and there with the logistics of that: she was not actively attempting to harm it. Yet, its attention just moved elsewhere. Away from the wicked points slicing uselessly through the air to the frill within tooth's reach.

The orthoclase took a voluntary step back and leaned down into it. It was back up in a flash of pearly whites and hooked claws outspread. Its trajectory took it towards the frill, and it didn't bother slowing down to avoid any body-slamming.


Fight... TWO!?
Round: 2/5
Attempt: Going for Nemesis's frill with teeth and whatever else it can get up there.
Defense:
Injuries: All prior bruises + being smacked by a frill

@Nemesis
ROLL
4
Orthoclase-Alpha attempts to use Technique — Berserk ( you want some cool holes in your frill bro? )
Failure!



 
 
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#26
 
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Nemesis was lucky that there wasn't a ton of feeling in her frill to begin with; though there was a lot of blood vessels. The heat of the moment meant that she was blowing a lot of that warmth off through her frill, too, and so when teeth, claws, and furious scrambling, tore into the barn-side of her defensive shield, it shed metallic crimson freely. Blood rained down her face, staining the jagged stone of her brow. Her lashes blinked back the hot red.

She kept pushing forward. Trying to gain speed. With Alpha's weight leaned into her frill, the back legs gave way with little resistance, and soon she was full on charging for the far wall of the arena. Maybe if she slammed it hard enough into the wall, it would at least be dazed.


Fight... TWO!?
Round: 2/5?
Attempt: BRO YOU GOTTA STOP
Defense: haha...
Injuries: patched up neck wound, scratches on flank, frill turned into a violent art piece
@Orthoclase-Alpha
ROLL
15
Nemesis attempts to use Technique — Body Slam ( speaking of body slam, GET DUNKED )
Successful!




 
 
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#27
 
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Blood sputtered out from every rip and tear, voices were thundering around, it had to close its right-side eyes as its vision went red. Nemesis stained just about every bit of its face and her blood dribbled down its quills. There wasn't much to relish in - already the blood from her neck was coagulating into a sanguine ooze on the claws buried into part of the frill's bone. Sticky red clung to its front. It was soaking the sand, and it slipped through it even without the trinoceros's help.

The monstrous hybrid, so crazed with the heat of the moment and its heart's million-mile pace, paid no mind to the impact drawing so near. It was here and it thought it knew that if it clutched tighter, hauled itself up with each step, and fit its jaws around the wulfenite's skull that it could stop her.

Somehow...

Somehow -


Fight... TWO!?
Round: 3/3?
Attempt: Looking to see how much of Nemesis's face it can fit in its mouth before it meets its maker
Defense:
Injuries: All prior bruises + about to get smashed into a wall at speed rhinoceros

@Nemesis
ROLL
12
Orthoclase-Alpha attempts to use Technique — Berserk ( bang! right before impact! )
Barely Successful!



 
 
THE LEVIATHAN
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Valkhound Dark

#28
 
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The tone of the screech was what first alerted him to Orthoclase-Alpha's loss of control.

He scrutinized the spawn for a moment, watching as it launched itself back into a battle supposedly already complete. Had his Overseer spoken of this to him in advance, perhaps he'd have been all on-board with making a point with violence, but Vargas suspected quickly that something wasn't right.

"Orthoclase-Alpha," he called down, and when it didn't answer, "OVERSEER ORTHOCLASE-ALPHA." Nothing. It had lost control, utterly mad with its own bloodlust, or whatever this was. And this was bad; a bad example to set, a bad lack of control, a bad impression to give to others. The Masters and their Overseers must always be in control, above all else, and this was-... not.

Vargas was cautious, but swift, hopping from his old worn bench to another section of the stone benches for a better angle, and then down at Alpha in the ring.

He ignored Nemesis for now, trusting that she would grasp that he was helping, aiming to body-check Alpha down and get a grip--and weight--on it. He could feel muscles in motion, the dust of the ring, and old memories kicked up with a bloodlust all their own that he immediately tried to push aside--now was not the time for that.

"ORTHOCLASE-ALPHA. CONTROL YOURSELF."
ROLL
14
Vargas attempts Physical Combat ( Hey can you you know not )
Successful!



 
 
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#29
 
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Oliver yelped--loudly--when Orthoclase came barreling back in. He managed to scramble out of the way, ear-tufts pinned, eyes wide, body low to the ground with frantic scrabbling as the two behemoths clashed in blood and dust behind him.

He turned back once at a (fairly) safe distance, panicked gaze searching the fight. What was going on-?! "Wait-!" he cried, his voice mostly lost to the din of combat and the other shouts--"You're not meant to really hurt each other!"

For a moment, there was dawning horror as the huge, quilled monstrosity laid into Nemesis with claws and fangs. Blood poured out, and fear spiked. Would she die-? Would this thing kill her? He didn't know her well, but this-... wasn't supposed to happen. And he was a medic-!

He desperately drew on the magic his father had taught him--given by some mysterious, kind voice in the dark--and concentrated on Nemesis. He would take on part of her wounds for his own--hopefully scaled down or that would be a hell of a mess. As the magic spiked out he could feel the pain of sudden, tearing flesh, the crush of damage inflicted by biting jaws, the heat of blood suddenly spilling down his own feathers and fur.

That was unexpected, despite knowing what it would do, and he staggered back and down with another cry--but hopefully, Nemesis would find her wounds precisely half-healed, already scarring over and bleeding less.



@Nemesis for visibility
ROLL
17
Oliver attempts to Cast Spell — Failed Timeline ( Help Nemesis )
Successful!



 
 
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A booming voice was drawing closer, though it was certain (like it was of so many other things) that was due to the increasing proximity of the opposite wall. Its jaws were snapping for its assailant's face and — WHUMPF! Weight fell against it, shoved it to the ground and out of the warpath. It fell and scrabbled to get back up, but the mass above it had it pinned. The only other thing large enough currently in the arena was —

Eyes burned with dust and grit and blood and tears, and the monstrous hybrid sounded like it was breathing for seven other Gembound. Nostrils flared, jaws parted as best they could to pant and vent, but it couldn't smell anything but blood and sweat. The scent was nauseating so close to the arena floor, like it was ingrained into the earth already.

Hooked claws grappled for its plates and its head, and every time the kaiju thrashed. Hissing and spitting at the shadow fallen over it, it swung around. Nemesis's blood made a clean smear in the sand as the monster made such a wide arc for its attacker's forearm. Teeth caught on rough hide, but its gaze met violent purple. They didn't tighten into a crushing, tearing grip like they could've, like they would've if it was anyone else.

That voice was its Master.

That arm is its Master.

Alpha blinked. It opened its mouth and withdrew; not a single mark from its teeth on Vargas's arm. Quills smoothed down to be flush with its neck. It huddled into its shoulders and it shook. All hyperfocus set on the Leviathan and what it was sure would come, the orthoclase preemptively twisted and tilted its head away from him. It was a futile attempt at keeping out of reach. If anything, it exposed more to those wicked claws and teeth.

No longer a furious tiger in the ring of a circus, Alpha was just some feral, petrified stray cat waiting for even a second's give to make its escape. Its entire frame vibrated, toxic eyes widened to their fullest degree. It searched for the nearest exit from the arena, and squirmed involuntarily towards it. The motion was entirely too obvious, but it could barely think past the present possibility of being made an example and there being so many, too many here.


@Vargas

 
 



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