Starstruck [Dad76] [M]

[Cheesigator]

Whatever that black oozy stuff was, it was healing him, much faster than she was healing herself. Every hit broke her "human" skin a little more, the skin being what was bleeding; all his attacks were doing were damaging her on the surface, mostly--but she could still feel what might've been a fracture in her leg, now singing with constant pain, and pain in her arms, which in some places had gone a little numb. She could still fight and take more damage, but her regenerative powers worked much slower, and that was an issue.

He lunged at her again and she saw the black stuff cover his hand, and her brain didn't have time to register it and figure out why before he would land a hit, so it was all she could do to catch his punch with her gloved hand, the force of powers rattling her bones and making her grit her teeth. His hand was hard.

So that was it.

Her bare hand shot forward to grab a fistful of his hair, aiming to shove his head down and slam it into her knee.

This is familiar, why is it familiar? Where do I know this power from?!

[Medievarad]

Artorias' free hand shot upwards to grab the one headed for his hair. He aimed to pull it sidewards. The hand she caught turned in her grip to grab her wrist and he tried to spread her arms to open her defenses, stepping forward with a headbutt that was the same in strength as beforehand.

But this time around, he held a solid grip on her.

[Cheesigator]

She was caught mid-attack, but reacted quickly enough, using his own iron grip against him as she pushed back, the two of them hand-to-hand as he tried to headbutt her, and she retaliated with a headbutt of her own, meeting him halfway as she braced herself and put extra focus on steeling her scales.

The force of their heads colliding let out another gust of wind that ruffled their hair, the grass, her feathered wings, which she now started flapping with enough power to lift herself off the ground as she attempted to push him down, the force generated by her great iridescent white wings enough to make trees start to bend and sway even at a distance.

[Medievarad]

As their heads collided, Artorias grit his teeth, the tendrils surged across his arms as he slowly pushed back against the dragon that wanted to push him against the ground.

And suddenly, he stepped sidewards to guide her face towards the floor, dropping all resistance he had put up first.

[Cheesigator]

She saw the grit of his teeth, the black ooze swarming his arms, the wheels in her head still turning. She started to lose her balance as he suddenly swerved to the side, and gave another mad flap of her wings, trying to pull her arms free as her feet left the ground.

She still couldn't shake the feeling that she knew what this was, what he was, but now with her head ringing with pain she had an even harder time thinking of it, and that only frustrated her more, made her even more wary of what this guy could possibly be capable of.

[Medievarad]

the mordecai didn't seem pleased at all by still holding onto the dragon. The black tendrils rolled over his arms, before he grit his teeth once more, the cracking of said teeth could be easily heard.

He raised his arms slightly, before slamming them down, aiming to slam Stardust flat in the dirt again.

[Cheesigator]

She grinned; perfect. He was quite frustrated, so was she. Clearly they hadn't beaten each other hard enough yet.

She let him pull her back down, and aimed to use his own strength against him as she braced her legs and continued the movement once she landed, using her own weight and the power of her wings to yank him up into the air and throw him over her shoulder instead.

A legend, this had something to do with a legend, but she couldn't remember where she'd heard it. It was starting to come back to her, slowly. If she kept countering his attacks she might be able to think of it.

[Medievarad]

Artorias, when being thrown up, the grit of his teeth changed to a sickening grin. And the pale blue in his eyes shifted ever so slightly. It was the same colour still. But it was far more bloodthirsty. It seemed she had awoken something in him.

And now, it looked more like he was having fun.

Artorias pulled her in, or upwards, rather than being toppled like that. Aiming to smack his feet against her face while still in the air. After that, success or not, he'd let go. A surge of this writing black mass pulling over his entire body as he came down again.

[Cheesigator]

The grin on his face caught Stardust off-guard; it was obvious in her eyes for a split second as their gazes met and he twisted. He kicked her in the face and let go of her; she fell back and hit the ground with a thud, shaking her head and quickly rolling onto her knees, catching the black spreading over his body.

Shifter?

She got onto her feet, standing up and wiping the dirt and blood off her face, a ghost of a feral grin on her face, her tail lashing. A legend about a race of otherworldly creatures that could harden their bodies like steel, changing the tides of war with their powers.

Could that be what she was facing against right here?

She narrowed her eyes, waiting for him to make the next move for her to counter it. Whatever he was, he could regenerate twice as fast as she, and use that black stuff like an armor. Could he use it as a projectile, could he reach her over a long distance? She had every intention of finding out.

[Medievarad]

He could use it to multiply his speed greatly. This was portrayed by the instant he appeared right before her. Raising his hand to go for her face again. But now, rather than the tendrils that surged through, she could visibly see his hand turning to what only could be described as fleshy stone. An eerie, red light pulsating through the cracks. She might even notice the sudden influx of his mordecai aura thickening.

And by now, Stardust would also notice that for each punch he threw, his strength had increased twofold.

[Cheesigator]

She barely had time to react. Suddenly he was in front of her, and his fist, coated and pulsing with that strange stuff was racing towards her face. She reached up to block it, and for a second everything felt slowed down. She caught his hand, but the force was so much greater than it had been before.

Once again she was sent flying, her hand shrieking with pain as she sank her claws into the ground, still flying back as she tore up meters of grass and dirt, a giant cloud of dirt obscuring her entirely from view by the time she stopped some 30 meters back.

Her breath was shuddering in her chest and she let out a pained "H-haah--" as she looked at her hand. If she had been a human that would have made it explode, like actually explode. She hadn't been prepared for that; holy hell. She had never met a mortal with that kind of strength, and she wasn't sure how long this human form of hers could keep itself together with power like that--she hadn't exactly built it with the idea in mind that it needed to withstand someone with the power of a god throwing her around like a ragdoll.

If she let out too much more of her own power, there was no telling what could happen--if this form would hold up. But if she didn't keep up with this asshole she'd lose. She refused to let that happen.

She grit her teeth as the dust started to settle, this whole revelation taking place in under a second; she pulled off her other glove, clenching her hands into fists as her scales shivered, visibly moving along her arms and hands. She couldn't let him see how much damage she'd let him do to this hand, or he'd purposefully aim for it. And her face, it seemed. She didn't really want to have a crooked nose like this asshole, so she'd have to be especially careful of that.

With a single beat of her wings she reappeared before him again, crossing the space in between them in the blink of an eye as she threw another punch for his head, her lime green eyes glowing ever brighter as she matched the strength he just showed, the forces of her movements making the ground shake.

[Medievarad]

Artorias glanced up at her as she was suddenly infront of her. But by no means was he taken aback or even surprised by her movement. He was aware of her being a dragon. And Artorias knew how great her speed was.

But, he'd end the fight right here. He had enough of an idea just how valuable she could be. He'd might even regret thinking he shouldn't have become her personal handler. In this case, Artorias would love to be proven wrong. As she appeared, everything around him seemed to slow down. He stomped his foot down on the ground, the earth shattering under it. And he threw up one singular fist to meet hers. Their knuckles would collide and crack violently. Though it would halt her momentum completely. "The fight's over," he stated coldly.

[Cheesigator]

The force of his stomp and punch made her hair blow back from her face, but when he spoke next, the look of determination and enjoyment disappeared from her face in an instant. What, that was it? When he'd finally decided to let loose a little?

She folded her wings and dropped, her bones reeling from the pain that went all the way up to her shoulder blade, making her flex her hands as she stared at him, taken aback by his sudden declaration.

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well that's no fun, and here I was just starting to get warmed up."

The mordecai that stood around them all stood there with their mouths hanging open a little, having felt the ground shake from every punch and kick thrown, felt the wind off every movement. They were looking at a pair of monsters, they realized, before they started to disperse before Artorias could yell at them for shirking duties.

[Medievarad]

So it seemed his subordinates were properly aware of his next words. He was about to yell, but they beat him to it. He snarled softly, shaking his head. "I wished to test your arm. So I did," he answered, pulling his hood on and walking over to pick up his helmet.

"I will not lie," he started. "You are surprisingly strong. Good," Artorias stated. "Seems like you aren't a waste of my time as I initially thought." A compliment, in its own right. But regardless. He didn't care for her feelings. She was a soldier now. One he could use. Being careful whether she was offended or not was an effort he was not willing to make just yet.

"Nevertheless. I have a mission soon. You'll be coming along."

[Cheesigator]

She rolled her eyes, ugh. Selfish bastard. She still could've gone for another few rounds of punches, she hadn't gotten to beat his face to a pulp yet.

She threw him a withering look as she watched him going back to get his helmet after he put his hood up, she wondered briefly why he bothered. She and the mordecai already knew what he looked like--perhaps civilians weren't allowed to see his face, or something. She had no idea what other strange customs this country had to offer, so she didn't bother questioning it.

She still thought he was dense, considering she'd told him, repeatedly if she recalled properly, that she was a dragon. Why was he surprised? Ugh, she just wanted to punch him even harder now.

But she clenched her fists and kept them at her sides, grabbing her gloves off the ground and pulling them back on. The back of her top was ripped and stained with blood from when she'd used her wings, and it'd probably be a while before she could find a way to stuff them back down into this human form again, so for now she didn't worry about it, keeping them folded against her back.

"A mission? Gosh and I don't even get a cup of tea to rest up first?" She sneered, though a bit of her curiosity peeked through her voice. What kind of a mission would they be going on that the grandmaster of these morons needed to attend? Must've been pretty important.

[Medievarad]

Artorias adjusted Witchbane one his back again, strapping the sheathe thight, before glancing at Stardust. "No. You don't," he answered. "Larian, take her to the quartermaster," he suddenly barked the order. "Have her armaments returned immediately! And give her the supplies for a trek!" One of the mordecai bowed in response, before nodding at Stardust. "If you'd follow me," he suggested, waiting for the dragon. While his hand rested on the pommel of his sword. "Take her to the stable when you're done," Artorias growled, before he left the training field.

It'd be rather uneventful. Retrieving her weaponry. On the Grandmaster's orders, she'd get her belongings back with little to no hesitation. And then Larian would lead her through massive halls of the citadel, before turning to a small door and pushing it open.

Through several more doors and now small, winding hallways, they would finally reach the stable.

The Mordecai bowed deeply. "Grandmaster," he said, before leaving the dragon back in his care. "I assume you have no complaints to ride horseback?"

[Cheesigator]

Her eyes lit up when the man gave the order for the mordecai to give her back her sword and shield, a grin breaking the look of disdain she'd had a moment prior. Her tail even wagged a little, wings fluttering. Finally! He said something she didn't automatically hate!

She didn't bother saying anything else to him as she left, but she could help but throw a quick glance over her shoulder at him as she was led away, eyes narrowing a little. What an odd set of circumstances, today had been.

She still hurt from their duel, finding it painful to walk as her joints ached. It'd definitely been a long time, but it'd been an interesting fight, she'd learned a lot. And wow, who'd have thought, suddenly now because he'd said he was her keeper everyone was treating her like she was a civilized human being! Amazing! Ugh. She hated the fact that how others treated her was pinned on a jackass like him, but maybe that'd change with time, or something.

She had to try to be optimistic, here.

As they reached the stables, all the horses immediately erupted into a state of unease and fear, whinnying and pawing nervously in their stalls as she approached--it was only a natural reaction. They knew what she was, she was something that usually ate them.

She let out a bit of a sigh through her nose, before she looked at Artorias and rested her hand on the flank of a horse that had been picked for her; she ran her hand over its fur and it calmed down a little, enough so for her to get a foot in the stirrup and hoist herself up onto the saddle.

"Fine by me." She said, her sword in its sheath at her waist and her shield on her backside; she felt better already just having the two of those with her. If she crossed some water on their travels she might be able to take care of these pesky pains of hers real quick, too, but she wouldn't count on it.

[Medievarad]

Her answer was met only with an approving nod. The mordecai grandmaster pulled himself on his horse with a soft snort, before padding the flank of the creature. "Two days of travel. Seeing it is noon. We will camp two nights," he stated coldly.

He spurred his horse to break in a slow walk, before glancing over his shoulder again. "That is Scrimshaw, by the way. Take good care of him. And he'll do the same," Artorias said.

As the two passed through Reajh. They got the same distrusting and disgusted looks. However, for a change, these weren't directed to Stardust. No, it was aimed at Artorias. They only heard rumours ofof the grandmaster. And became very wary due to this. As a leader. People looked up to him. But in person? They were petrified.

But soon, they left through the city's gate, causing Artorias to click his tongue, forcing the horse to move at a higher speed.

[Cheesigator]

She blinked, a little surprised that the horse had a name and wasn't just some nameless livestock to be killed in battle. She looked down at it, patted its neck with a soft smile. "Hi Scrimshaw." The horse flicked an ear back at her, still a little uneasy.

She blinked again however when she realized that Artorias just... Knew that, offhand. She looked at the back of his head, frowning thoughtfully as she followed him out, the two of them getting distrusting and fearful looks in the streets, but him now moreso than she, who was now just an afterthought to these people after they set their sights on the grandmaster first.

Maybe he was an animal person. Not so much a people person.

She flicked an ear too, and brought Scrimshaw to a gallop once they were out of the gates, following Artorias' lead.

The journey was rough on her that first day, because while she healed quickly, it wasn't nearly as fast as Artorias. That night when they camped, she found some running water in a small stream and set to washing herself, paying attention mostly to just the wounds he'd caused in their fight. It wasn't magic--or if it was, it wasn't her magic. The water washed over her and she felt less pain, more relaxed, more at ease.

Her kind were worshiped in some countries for their natural affinity to water--legends said that a dragon like Stardust brought with her rain, good harvests, good luck and fertility. She wasn't sure how true it was, but her mom taught her to believe it, and she'd witnessed it herself in the shortness of her life so far. Nature responded it to her on its own; it was just the way it worked.

She remained polite with Artorias throughout their journey, most of her anger having fizzled out as she found herself more naturally curious about him in general. He was a man of many mysteries, but she didn't pry or start too much conversation, figuring him to be the "speak when spoken to" kind of guy.

Nevertheless, as they set out on the third day she found herself anxious to see what awaited them--what strange mission it was indeed that would require the grandmaster's attention.

[Medievarad]

Artorias pulled the reigns as they neared the small village. It seemed the buildings were derelict, abandoned. Upon further inspection, it was obvious the entire village was just burned out. Sooth and ashes flying past with the breeze. Artorias took a deep breath.

"I told you to come along. You're a soldier. And you should follow every order to the littlest details," he sighed softly. "But here?" He exhaled the same breath and dismounted, patting the flank of his horse. "If you don't feel like wading through corpses, just stay here."

At that, he slowly made his way down the hill, into the abandoned and burned village.