初めまして。

mustang | 1/8

Beat was drawn to Mustang helplessly after their first encounter. He was inseparable, really. Like a barnacle, a pest—or a puppy (if we were to venture into the scary realm of fur.ries). Yet, when the world conspired against you, and the trauma of being locked out of one's physical body harped on you like a phantom, even the briefest of encounters could stretch into the most enduring of friendships.

Now, as Beat observed the centaur with keen eyes, he continued to stick right beside the black-haired Defender. His blond contrasted wildly with the other's colours, but complimented them all the same. And as Mustang unsheathed his sword, Beat readied his drums.

"Nothing we can't handle, buddy." Beat clicked his tongue. "I'll take the lead. No seaweed to stop me this time."

With a grand holler, Beat charged into the warlord's territory. He drummed hard (Drum Roll), leaping across the field with increasing speed, almost dancing if not hurdling through the turf as his drum beat the sounds of war.

MADE BY MINNIE OF WICKED WONDERLAND

初めまして。

mustang | 2/8

The steady percussion of his faithful drum did not waver. Each strike of his instrument reverberated waves of confidence and of a trust unspoken between the two Defenders. Heralded as a Midnight Keeper now, Beat's fraternity had expanded colourfully—and he could not disappoint. It was out of the question. After all, failure meant death.

"Real stud comin' through!"

Each strike of the mallet composed Beat's sprint. He centered his breathing as the Centaur grew close. The axe he wielded served as a grim reminder of his mortality; yet, Beat resisted the warning with an unbridled cry.

The blond's skill ran out within the perfect distance. Beat stopped in a defense stance as Mustang took the first swing, avoiding the Centaur's bloodthirsty metal plunge. Gritting his teeth, Beat performed a Rimshot to taunt the creature. A colourful graphic materialized above the Centaur as it focused its malicious attention on him.

"Time for the ride of your life! Come at me, fucker!"

The Centaur lifted its axe and galloped towards Beat with alarming speed.

MADE BY MINNIE OF WICKED WONDERLAND

初めまして。

mustang | 3/8

Up close, the Centaur Warlord was enormous. Beat had heard whispers of the four-legged keeper. Although the blond prided himself on his robust constitution, he had nothing on the creature that loomed before him. Its muscles were like boulders that groaned and grinded with tectonic force. Veins traced the thick armour it wore as skin, and the unfeeling gaze of black declared a malevolence crowned by gouging horns.

The Centaur snarled. Promised wound after wound as it poised its axe.

Beat could map death on the creature's body, but he remained stalwart. He had to. For the sake of Mustang, he refused to show fear. He defied fear. Deafened it with the decisive strike of his drum. Whenever the two set off together, Beat always promised himself he'd never injure his partner with concern.

Yet, the axe struck across his chest. It tore away a river of pixel—and the pain, although dull, could not numb the imagined sensation of an axe carving one's body.

"That fuckin' tickled!" Beat said, beating his chest. His health bar remained healthy, bars numerous and coloured green.

The Centaur still had his attention as Mustang slashed at its legs. But not for too long. Beat continued to pummel at it with his drum, each strike producing a gratifying THWACK!

"Taunt's about to wear off! It might strike back at you with its hind legs! Watch it, man!"

MADE BY MINNIE OF WICKED WONDERLAND

初めまして。

mustang | 4/8

Sweat dappled his cheeks. His breath fell from his lips in heavy bouquets. The musk of the hunt accompanied the theatre of combat and was carried aloft by a composition of clashes and enmity. Of metal clangs and hooved clicks, and of the carnal desire to survive.

That's what it boiled down to. Survival. Even the creatures here, as manufactured as they were, had an organic devotion to see the next day. In a way, this drummed up a dangerous sort of sympathy. Beat had heard of those who felt sorry for the creature they had beaten, only to have their throats slashed in the naive respite.

Beat heard Mustang's retort pound in his ears. The man possessed a percussion of his own, and as the Centaur reeled around, the blond did not falter. A scheming look surfaced on his face as the romp of the horse thrashed about.

"Shit, I've always wanted to do this." Beat cried over the bedlam of steel.

With a grand leap, Beat mounted the Warlord and began to bash its helmet with his drum.

MADE BY MINNIE OF WICKED WONDERLAND

初めまして。

mustang | 5/8

"Cutting it close, heh! I get it." Beat lifted his drum up once more and growled upon its descent.

DONK! DONK! DONK! The drum battered the Centaur Warlord's proud crest and produced music. Beat's mallets gladly rested in a belt strapped around his waist as the drummer relentlessly whacked the creature on the head.

"YEEEEHAW!" Beat whistled.

While Beat hammered in the beast's horns, his legs tightened against the tough hide of its centaur half. He challenged himself to stay glued onto the horse. Despite the beast's mad attempts to buck him off, Beat's athletic core remained resolute.

"Sh-shit. This thing's mad as hell." Beat remarked.

Not the keenest of observations. Yet, Beat understood the significance of a humorous garnish. Again, he didn't want Mustang to worry. Again, he wanted to soothe the raven-haired swordsman's unease.

Their banter was fun and games—but the need for survival boiled the blood and matted the hair. Lifting his drum up again, Beat prepared himself for another slam, but the Centaur grew wise to his performance and bucked hard.

"Aaugh!" Beat toppled onto the ground, the massive drum falling back onto his chest.

The Centaur shifted and lifted its legs, ready to stomp Beat six feet under.

MADE BY MINNIE OF WICKED WONDERLAND

初めまして。

mustang | 6/8

He hit the ground hard. The drum barrled onto his body and squeezed the air out of his lungs. Beat gasped dryly as his body reacquainted itself with the dry earth. His vision momentarily grew hazy. The shock provoked the slightest tears before one blink cleared him of the gaussian uncertainty.

Eyes wide open, Beat was grateful for the clear view only to realize that his vista provided him with the Warlord's opportunistic attack. Beat quickly rolled out of its way as Mustang brought the Warlord to center stage. The creature was dextrous. Able to handle two stages of combat at once.

Beat hauled himself up onto his feet. The acrid scent of warring steels fumed up his nose. He made his way over to Mustang's side swiftly, unsheathing his mallets from his leather belt.

After a strike from the Defender, the Centaur's hooves reared up.

"I got you!" Beat budged in front of the swordsman and began to play a drum solo.

The Warlord's hooves plunged downwards, but met with an invisible force, rendering its attack useless. Each beat knocked the Centaur back bit by bit as the blond Defender advanced forward. He looked back at Mustang.

"Pretty cool, huh?" He snickered.

MADE BY MINNIE OF WICKED WONDERLAND

初めまして。

mustang | 7/8

Beat's march was akin to that of a parade. The Drummer Boy turned to face the Centaur once more; his expression hardened into steel. Sweat traced his handsome features, the determination that sculpted his face removing the boyish from the heroic. As he stomped forward, the Centaur's health bar dimnished increment by increment—the end was in sight.

"One step ahead of ya buddy!" Beat said.

The Centaur screamed an ungodly noise; it was humanesque, but the mask made it ring an eerie metallic timbre. Mustang followed suit with a grand horizontal swing of his sword, incapacitating its legs. Beat stopped his drumming as the Centaur Warlord dropped to its knees.

Finally, finally! They were going to survive this! Beat's heart reverted to a childish excitement, but his expression still upheld a mask of unbridled duty. Now, it was time for the finishing blow.

"End it!" Beat cried.

MADE BY MINNIE OF WICKED WONDERLAND