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learning curves [Africa] - Printable Version

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learning curves [Africa] - Elsa - 08-09-2014

ELSA
I can fake a smile, I can force a laugh. I can hold the weight of worlds.

The clouds were safe… but for how long would they stay like that? It seemed that not many have discovered it yet, and had no luck running across anyone apart of the Falls. Was she actually supposed to be up here? Or was this strictly for other purposes? Well, either way, she may as well learn something from the experience here.

So she began to wander, an occasional cloud would float by, tickling her body before flowing away again. She often wondered what Oxy would think If he was up here, and she made sure that she would remember to bring him here if he hadn’t already made his way up.

Even in the dead of fall, it seemed this place existed in full bloom. She crossed nearby an entire forest of perfectly pink, rosy cherry blossoms. They smelled of comfort and home. It was so… pristine. The more she walked, the more she began to worry of the true intentions of this place.

But alas, she came to a stop in a lush meadow. The grasses were trimmed, but bursting with life. Colorful flowers even spotted it, providing a picturesque view of serenity. She stopped, closed her eye, and breathed in deeply. It even smelled like home.

But darker things lingered in the back of her mind. She was still so defenseless… since then. Getting used to half your world being torn away wasn’t exactly easy. All she had done was push aside the fact that everything had changed. How was fighting now? It surely had to be much different; her entire left side would be open with all to bear. She shuddered at the thought… what if she was attacked again? She couldn’t do that to everyone back home. Not to mention, she felt like a fool asking them for a spar so…

Her eyes looked around… who could she ask? Who wouldn’t try to kill her, but would give her the rough learning she needed? Why did life just create more questions than answers? She sighed, frustrated. She just needed to learn!

"Talketh."
@[Africa] || sorry this took so long! <3 feel free to start and ill post stats.

I can dance and play the part if that's what you ask.. give you all I am.
but i'm only human. and I bleed when I fall down.




RE: learning curves [Africa] - Africa - 08-14-2014

It was the third and final round...

Sand whirled through the air as sharp hooves sliced through soft floor of the arena. The stallions appeared to be dancing- to the rhythm of war the Starry-Eyed thought as she watched eagerly, excited to learn the outcome after nearly two hours since the respectful spar had begun. Their forelegs were tangled, locked together; bodies twirling and twisting, long lashing hair whipping violently as the high-island wind caressed them. The air was filled with the thick stench of testosterone, sweat drawn across their glossy coats in heavy, staining sheets as the glorious afternoon sun beat down- it was intoxicating, thrilling; so too did their panting and grunts echo wildly through the bustling village.

When at last the smaller stallion stood as the winner- skull lifted and victorious neigh thrown to the blue, the small group of spectators which had gathered around began to disperse. Africa stayed a moment longer, revelling in the atmosphere, admiring each marvellous example of strength and prowess as he stood dripping in the toils of his own ambition.

She had sparred only once before and battled truly, one occasion before that. Both had been fruitless endeavours, and the latter was a bitter scar upon her mind which just recently, had begun finally to numb. The fervour today though struck her like an iron post, she was giddy, grinning away with hopeless ambition; and although she had not been a competitor herself, adrenaline had contaminated her lowly bloodstream, fuelling some ridiculous fantasy that she might even be as skilled as them! Bright, sunlit eyes turned as the arena emptied, searching for any that loitered with her; sizing up unsuspecting passers-by like she had a clue.

Soh and I were going to test our skills anyway... she insisted, noting as her face wandered back towards him, the star-spangled zephyr shaking his head. He was not by any means won over by her plea. Of late, Silas had noted the return of recklessness to her behaviour; unpredictability that he knew stemmed from the confusion in her grappling heart. He could only wonder if it was similar unsteadiness that had led her astray so far to the north all those many years ago. Indeed, he answered her through thought, eyeballing her soft (though eager), expression with one stern violet eye.

As Africa dillydallied (just another sign of her martial inexperience), another steed stepped into the sand- someone who was startlingly larger, wielding a set of two frightfully sharp looking horns, with an intimidating glint in his eye that caused her instantly to shrink away back to the path flanking his stage. But I think I might look elsewhere for a partner... she assured her friend quickly, severing feeble eyes from the stallion’s domineering gaze, and hastening with a low tail right in the opposite direction. Silas trailed her quietly through the air, and his calm smugness filled both of their minds. It was not enough to dampen Africa’s enthusiasm though.

The grainy path soon gave way to lush, green pasture and the one-winged mare saw ahead of her another Pegasus, still whiter than Frostfall’s first snow. It became apparent though the nearer she drew, that the stranger (her face; those haunting blue eyes, she was not familiar at all), was tinged blue- almost like Silas’s subtle purple sheen. Recalling the ferocious introduction between the two males before, Africa curled her flaming crest dramatically and threw her long skull to the side, snorting, smiling playfully and unavoidably all the while. “Want to spar?” she called, trying in vain to ditch her natural diffidence and portray instead an opponent perhaps worth the other mare’s time.

Silas’ sharp eyes rolled as he circled above.



Setting: The meadow skirting the village on Sky Island. It is a clear day.
Magic allowed/No companions

Words 619
Intro (1/1)
Attack (0/3)
Defence (0/0)

(ooc: I know you wanted me to start, but I had to set Africa up ic)

Image | Table by Silk



RE: learning curves [Africa] - Elsa - 08-23-2014

ELSA
I can fake a smile, I can force a laugh. I can hold the weight of worlds.

Even noticing a stranger was hard. It seems as if she was a grown woman learning the way of life through the eyes and ears of a foal. She snorted; embarrassed she had not noticed the grey, one winged Pegasus, until she spoke. So she too, was looking for a spar. From the looks of it, this was going to be a battle of who was the better invalid. Although, Elsa had to admit she would quite prefer losing and eye to a wing. She loved the air, and felt a tinge of guiltiness for feeling bad for herself. I mean, this mare lost the freedom of the air.

But, as Elsa looked up, a small, beautiful bird was flying above, obviously, the companion of this Pegasus mare. Elsa smiled, feeling a little better. At least, if she couldn’t fly herself, she could live vicariously through her mind-bound partner. Africa seemed to be throwing a dramatic entrance, at least with the hair toss thing she had going on. Elsa couldn’t help but giggle, at least she didn’t seem like she was here to legitimately beat the living hell out of a blind-y.

Elsa offered a cordial bow, her own mane falling beautifully and dramatically over her head before she lifted it to speak to the mare, Africa. "I do, oh mysterious woman with a bird." She said with a small chuckle. Elsa was honestly the only one that thought the things she said were clever. At least she was peacefully living in a delusion where she was the world’s number one comedian. "My name is Elsa, for cordial introductions sake. Mason of the Hidden Falls." She paused for a moment, allowing Africa to give her own little introduction. But, she wasn’t going to allow her to get any more words in edgewise. Just because she was a “crip” didn’t mean she couldn’t hold a little surprise attack.

Her hooves pushed off on the soft meadow grasses. Suddenly, the fear she had of fighting seemed to melt away. In its place, remained the normal, old, ass-kicking Elsa with a need to win. She scrunched her nose in concentration, hoping to gain ground on Africa quickly. Elsa hoped Africa hadn’t moved, so Elsa could leap at the front of the Throat leader.

Hoping her blind calculations were correct, she attempted to slam her creamy body in the grey ones chest. They were about the same height; so hopefully, if Africa was unprepared, snow queen could take away her breath, throw her off balance, or a combination of both, one or neither. It was so odd though, for she was starting to rely on her hearing. Her left ear flickered to face outward from her body, naturally trying to listen for a foreign object, should it attempt to move at her from that direction. Otherwise, Elsa planned on avoiding teeth and hooves by assuming that whatever she couldn’t see on her right, the enemy was going for her left. Speaking of teeth, Elsa then dipped her head, hoping to bite at any part of birdy-bonded’s chest, neck and face. Hey, sometimes blindly flailing wasn’t a bad thing!


"Talketh."
@[Africa] || 1/3 Attacks || 0/1 Defense || 524 Words
So she just decided to go for it. <3 Thanks for sparring with me! Also could I please get tagged? :D

I can dance and play the part if that's what you ask.. give you all I am.
but i'm only human. and I bleed when I fall down.




RE: learning curves [Africa] - Africa - 08-24-2014

To Africa, this spar held little significance other than an impulsive endeavour fuelled by the half-hearted want to better herself, to learn so she might more easily defend her family and friends. It was only right that a leader ought to be able to protect her home, right? She and Sohalia had skimmed only briefly over the topic when they’d discussed at length the future of the herd, their mutual lack of military ability. Maybe if she had continued by the arena and not watched the warriors clash, this fanciful idea that she bore some skill might never have come to fruition.

As it was, the one-winged Sultana had found for herself a rival that seemed on a superficial level not to exceed her own stature- she failed to consider the stew of magic and competency potentially concealed beneath immaculate beauty. When they came face to face though, a rather splendid blanket of vivid summer blooms and lush grass between, Africa began unexpectedly to question her decision. The gravity of this undertaking caused her mood very suddenly to plunge- the true nature of a whimsical, oversensitive parrot’s heart. “Africa, leader of Dragon’s Throat...” she answered, mirroring the pale, cremello mare’s introduction with a stiffening posture, voice touched by the smallest hint of regret. What am I doing?

Elsa was glamorous, as pristine as the first snow of the cold season, decorated so delicately in glacial blue that Africa wondered ridiculously if she might melt as they lingered on in the sun. The dull grey could barely pull her thoughts free from her own smothering sense of inadequacy...

Abruptly, the preoccupied fog glazing her eyes cleared.

There had been barely a second to spare between Africa’s own introduction and the icy-white mare’s blitz attack. Charcoal ears wavered amidst writhing flame as she hesitated, startled, watching doom descend like a dumbstruck idiot. Certainly her lack of experience was on full display. She swayed across suddenly trembling legs, unsure whether she would be able to ward off a front-on collision, or any collision; trolling in vain though uncooperative memories for aid, for an experience to draw from, but there was nothing. The thunder of Elsa’s advancing hooves was a terrible, intimidating distraction; she could not think straight, could not focus, wanted to yell, wait! I need one more second... but blunt marbled teeth clamped tightly across her panicking tongue.

Fear carved quickly through her gentle, playful expression.

The one-winged mare’s indecisiveness was as foolish as the feeble defence which followed. Africa’s thick neck leaned hard to the right as instinct overwhelmed all desire to face the impending threat, and rashly, she exposed her naked, scarred left shoulder in the process of escape. The thud as Elsa crashed headfirst into it was sickening, and the cry that her horrified body purged shattered the serenity of the rolling pasture around them. The Starry-Eyed toppled away from her rival, balance skewed completely on impact, and even the spontaneous flare of her only wing could not prevent the imminent fall. A rogue foreleg fought boldly the effect of gravity, thrust in vain to prop against her sinking weight, but it was too little too late, and feathers folded flush against her flank again, quickly.

Elsa’s snapping teeth had followed rapidly, hunting rippling skin as the body twisted beneath. Even before hitting the ground, as her face veered away from the rising grassy carpet, Africa felt the wrath of those jaws. The creamy-white mare bit unkindly the mottled grey hide across Africa's withers, pulling it away from the muscle beneath (though slack hardly existed there). The long, flailing tendrils of mane, too, caught between clamped incisors, and as Africa's rolling body pulled free the bruising skin from her attacker’s grip, a good handful was ripped from her flaming crest. Blood rushed to the skin’s surface- blue, red, purple blending together beneath the mask of her coat. Some leaked through a nasty gash where the last pinch had slipped free, and murky grey slowly turned muddy burgundy. As the breeze touched raw flesh, the wound instantly began to sting.

Africa's squeal was a mix of shock and pain. As she rolled heavily onto her winged-right side, legs flailed helplessly not altogether aiming to tangle between Elsa’s own, but available to do so (or strike out) if the chance arose. The momentum from the unfortunate collision allowed the stunned mare to roll completely over, though the manoeuvre was ungainly and hardly deliberate. Soon enough she was propped across trembling knees; rising swiftly, spurred on by adrenaline flooding through her core. Light amber eyes scurried to find the snowflake Pegasus, keen not to fail like that again, and that was when she noticed how unnaturally the face of the other mare sat. How very peculiar... she thought as she examined.



Words 800
Intro (1/1)
Attack (1/3)
Defence (0/0)

@[Elsa] <3 <3

Image | Table by Silk



RE: learning curves [Africa] - Elsa - 08-28-2014

ELSA
I can fake a smile, I can force a laugh. I can hold the weight of worlds.

The other mare identified herself- Africa, The leader of the Dragons Throat? Elsa almost paused then to reconsider her decision. Her past reputation with fighting against leaders wasn’t exactly a past she was prepared to re-live. Getting beat in the face and having a twinge-d leg as battle wounds isn’t exactly all that awesome when you can barely walk away.

But, it was too late now. Everything seemed to melt away, and it felt like she was running on air. Elsa felt in tune with her body now, and felt she could do something worthwhile. If she got beaten up again, she could at least blame it on fighting a leader and she could become Elsa: Queen of Getting Her Ass Beat By Big Shots. Well, at least it was a memorable name.

The leader though turned… away from Elsa. Again, the odd, defensive movements almost made her want to stop, and ask what was wrong. Why was she flinching? A soldier never flinches, and she was a leader! Was that why they rarely heard about the Dragon’s Throat, and why Elsa had not seen many from that land? Were they all hiding? But questions, pauses, and polite conversation could wait. Elsa slammed into the left shoulder, and her breath caught in her throat. The amount of force inflicted had even hurt her chest! Well, I suppose it is something she should make a mental note of not doing. Hurting oneself during ones attack isn’t exactly a good tactic.

Yet, the effectiveness of this attack was not lost. She watched as Africa struggled for balance, before finally succumbing to gravity. The thought crossed her mind to take pity, but she would have to beat the horse while it was down, there was no waiting for her to attack. Pretty white teeth snapped about, hoping to clamp down on some part of one-wing, and boy did it clamp down.

Her teeth found purchase across the withers of birdy, and luckily, Africa’s own determination to get away helped her! Teeth kept trying to hold on like vices, before they were final pulled free- along with a mouthful of mane. She spat it out onto the ground, sure, the feeling was nice, but eating hair was a whole different story. Though, with the side of scream she gave, it would make a nice meal for any warlord.

Her luck seemed to dissipate now, and her own blind flailing was being overcome by the fearful flailing of one-wing. And man, did Africa know how to flail. One-wings legs were beating out all around her, and Elsa had no way of avoiding the flailing mess. One hit her nose as she was spitting out the hair, it hit her nose so hard she yelped a little. Masses of tears were brought to her eye in an attempt to numb the pain, but it hurt like the dickens. She wanted to attack the leg that had done the deed, but the tears caused everything to be too blurry! Another kicked out, hitting her square in the chest, again taking her breath away, she wheezed. She tried in a quick attempt to get away, but she was unable to do so. Four legs hitting at you was not a simple escape. With her nose, and chest hurting, she thought it could get no worse. But of course, as all battles do, it got worse. One clipped her left leg, front leg. It hit her square in the ankle area. The kick knocked it to the side, and Elsa was done. A painful cry was released from her jaws, and she could feel swelling already starting to protect the injured area. It wasn’t broken, but it was bruised as hell. These were like tentacle legs or something!

Elsa was more than ready to leave, but as she was turning to limp to an escape, the mare flipped and was back on her feet. Elsa growled, looking at her with such anger and humiliation. She was not going to be taken down so easy! Elsa rushed forward again, towards Africa’s right side, the pain in her front leg causing her to move much slower. However, her back legs were more than capable to compensate. Hopefully approaching Africa, Elsa lifted onto her hind legs, ready to give Africa a beat down. She kicked out, even with her injured leg. The swelling restricting an extra flick of her left leg, but the right was doing a lot of work. Elsa knew the consequences of having to come back down to her feet, but while she was up there, she wanted to make sure Africa experienced just as much pain. If she was lucky, maybe the poor girl would flinch again and let her hit that raw, open wound. That would hurt!


"Talketh."
@[Africa] || 2/3 Attacks || 0/1 Defense || 800 Words
:D

I can dance and play the part if that's what you ask.. give you all I am.
but i'm only human. and I bleed when I fall down.




RE: learning curves [Africa] - Africa - 08-31-2014

There was something unusual about Elsa’s expression. It seemed lopsided. One eye seemed... unfocused, but she just could not quite put her finger on it.

Heavy ears casually flopped left as her slim, long face tilted the same way, and Africa stood distracted from the fight - despite the determination she'd held just a split second before - and gazed at her competition with wide, curious eyes. Africa was an erratic personality, bright through reckless, and her thoughts were easily as inconsistent as her behaviour. She really couldn't help her sudden fascination with the appearance of her competition, and it smoothed away all sense like the lull of the warm spring she'd once enjoyed in the Basin. The dappled mare remained aware of Elsa to a small degree - the way she had stumbled clumsily above the confusion of whirling grey limbs, cried out when her fetlock had been clipped viciously by waving hooves, and grumbled when finally her perfect white bulk had escaped the thrashing, upside down mess enough to turn and glare.

They are so blue, she mused on absentmindedly, rolling the shoulder that had been thumped as she stood almost splay-legged, still above the spot from which she'd risen. It ached awfully, and the muscles beneath the trembling skin shuddered in protest at even the slightest movement – so too did the broken skin upon her withers sting, enough to warrant another brief moment spent static. Despite the very visible scarring across her shoulder and the horrid trials she had endured (the wing missing from a hollow socket in particular), Africa had quite a low threshold for pain and she found herself now quite unwilling to push through the raw sensation. Even as she dabbled with the idea of stepping forward, the scream through her shaken forequarters was overbearing.

Then suddenly it occurred to her - Elsa’s left eye was not blue at all. It was pearly, cloudy, blind!

The quick thinking opponent was wasting no time again. Her body was launching into another attack far quicker than the unfocused grey had foreseen. Though she was delighted to have the question surrounding the other’s physical absurdities answered at last, there seemed little chance of that enlightenment rescuing her now and Africa gasped despairingly, watching with fading glee the anger that was ripe across the pretty, pale face of the looming snowflake pegasus. Her throat choked out some nonsensical noise as the other bore toward her winged side, but Africa noticed the quiet limp as she came – an injury, and one that she could potentially now use to her advantage.

She forgot, then, about her own ailment.

With a plan forming in her mind, the Starry-Eyed was able to focus her effort finally on the task at hand. Elsa reared when it seemed she felt near enough to strike, and Africa’s powerful, unscathed haunches clenched so that she could lift in the same fashion after swivelling to meet her. There was no reckless flailing of limbs, however, on the dappled mare’s behalf – her eyes were trained on that left foreleg which had betrayed the cremello’s new weakness, and her striking hooves aimed toward it as carefully as they could.

That was not the end of her well-orchestrated assault however. I can do this, Silas!

As Elsa’s thrashing right fore-hoof grazed down the back of the grey’s left forearm and struck the elbow at the end, the nerves went numb and the thrust of the corresponding limb slackened considerably. It was not a terrible pain, more a pinching sting, although the lack of sensation was overly discomforting. In the seconds to follow, Africa endeavoured to sway the other’s balance left, to drive the rearing pegasus down upon her injured leg if she was able – toward the side from which she presumably could not see. At the same time her flaming mottled neck curled so that snapping teeth could aim at that unsuspecting side of her pallid competitor’s face.

If all went to plan, the Starry-Eyed’s body would fall right – the side which had yet to be maimed.



Words 677
Intro (1/1)
Attack (2/3)
Defence (0/0)

@[Elsa] <3

Image | Table by Silk



RE: learning curves [Africa] - Elsa - 09-05-2014

ELSA
I can fake a smile, I can force a laugh. I can hold the weight of worlds.

Her eye wasn’t that bad.

Well, yeah it was, but that doesn’t mean she’s lopsided- Especially not in combat. I mean, she is kind of a badass. The eye just helps… right? All she needs now is a black cape and a mask and she’d be the lone ranger of Helovia. That’s what she’d like to think anyways, as much as she detested herself for loosing her eye. It was her way of coping, to think that she could accomplish something despite the bad things that happen.

So, she only grew more confident as she moved in for her attack. As her body found itself rising into the sky, she felt her hooves graze across the left leg of Africa. That had to hurt, she thought. I mean, scraping any part of your body with hooves wasn’t exactly a thing that was comfortable. Elsa would prefer not to have that happen when she would try to get some shuteye, the gods only know how much she hates scrapes and bruises. I mean, they were like 100 times worse than actual wounds. They weren’t impressive enough to display to the herd, and they weren’t something that was considered “painful” enough to complain to a healer about. So, therefore Elsa has deduced that getting a bruise is not the same as fighting. You cannot fight unless you cause some damage.

But, she thought to soon, for she thought she would be the one to cause the damage. Nope! Again it was this grey flopping lady-leader that was just flailing about on the ground. Elsa stored it into her memory that maybe she should just give up on tactics and go for the crazy flailing about. Then, she wouldn’t need an eye, and maybe it would fetch a good price on the black market. There were surely horses in Helovia that weird. This place was more full of crazies than it was full of normal, average bodies. I guess it is why this place attracts so many. All the outcasts and poor unfortunate souls wind up here. So, she was confident that her eye would surely sell to some creepy witch-doctor freak.

Anyways, back to the problem at hand- the flailing African lady who was a little smarter than she looked.

Well, it seemed she had finally managed to notice that Elsa was not as fit as she seemed. Although she could not see what was going on in her vision, she could hear, but it was a little too late for that crap.

The mare forced her down to her left, and there was literally nothing she could do. She came down hard on the swollen ankle, and her eyes widened in immense pain. It seared through her body, like she had swallowed a hot iron, and it was traveling down her leg. Good thing there was no bomb and fuse nearby; the heat that she thought was pouring from her injury could have lit the fuse and exploded this entire island. Elsa wanted to scream, but all she could do was open her mouth as she wheezed to bring air back into her body. It seemed to have knocked everything out of her. It would no doubt, be one hell of a painful injury later. Tears prickled her eyes, and she wasn’t going to cry until- GOD FREAKING DAMMNIT YOU LITTLE CONTINENTAL FREAK. Elsa had her head lifted in pain, and it seemed like the mare had decided to somehow get miraculously smarter over the course of like twenty seconds. Pearly teeth clamped down onto the thin layer of skin that was her chin groove. It sent a terribly painful shot of electricity up through her face, and the tears began to fall uninterrupted.

This little female dog here was gonna get it good.

Elsa wailed, and decided that if she wanted to get down and dirty, that was fine, as long as Africa was well aware she was going to experience the wrath of the ice queen. Elsa attempted this time, to use her magic once again. If the flamey-maned freak wanted to play with fire, then Elsa would play with ice.

She tried to concentrate, bringing up an ice spike right underneath Africa’s left front hoof, just like her injured one. If she was lucky, Africa would not move and she could pierce Africa’s frog. She knew that would hurt like hell, she remembered how even the giant freak on the beach with an egg felt after it had stepped on it. That thing wailed like a siren. At the same time, she wasn’t going to let Africa get away that easy. She aimed at the jugular of one-wings throat, and opened wide. Oh she hoped that she would take her breath away. Be gone, freak!


"Talketh."
@[Africa] || 3/3 Attacks || 0/1 Defense || 797 Words
:D

I can dance and play the part if that's what you ask.. give you all I am.
but i'm only human. and I bleed when I fall down.




RE: learning curves [Africa] - Official - 10-12-2014

21 days have passed. Africa defaults to Elsa. Elsa receives .5 VP but a complete rubric may be requested for full VP, however this may change the outcome.