[JUDGED] Hidden Desires [Oxy Challenge] - Printable Version +- HELOVIA || The Way to the Sun (http://helovia.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: Archives (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11) +---- Forum: Battle Archives (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=64) +---- Thread: [JUDGED] Hidden Desires [Oxy Challenge] (/showthread.php?tid=16191) |
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Hidden Desires [Oxy Challenge] - Thranduil - 11-04-2014 Damn. A growl rolled from the golden son’s deep throat and reverberated in the frozen air. Earth eyes still burned with gold, at remembering that pretty pained bird’s block for her warrior. He would have to see to her too one day. Snorting and kicking out a hind leg in frustration as he paces just outside the Falls. The circlet about his head clinks against his horns, and it stills the beast. Mind, all a flame and fire with the molten frustration, freezes to match his surrounds. When it moves again, it is cooler, and more calculating. The golden’s leafen star face falls back to a seriousness few rarely see. This was not what he wanted, but it was not the end. His little riddle had ben but a canon fired across that idiot bay’s bow in warning. Though he had hoped it would have been a short, quick little exchange, the gold now settled that this indeed would be a more serious affair. Looking up the gold sighs with finality. It was dark and deep, with no moon yet rising to fill the world with evening light. Snorting the gold looks back to the snow covered ground and looks to find a suitable place. It was not that he was scared. The golden was never scared, of that he will tell you relentlessly. Nah, it facing the reality of his last struggle that caused him to drag his cloven hooves. Not a single hit had he made on the damned black beast, and the golden hip still bore gray scars, where the thick winter coat had not had a chance to grow. It had gotten him into the Throat, and for that the gold should be contented, but it had broken a part of him to loose so badly to a blind man. He could say this time would be different, and certainly he had different goals, and the circlet reminded him, different advantages, but still an unease rested on his chest. A rough hack spits rom his lips as he walks, looking like a certain pep talk. This would not work though. Even if doubt lingered in his bones, the slightest hint of that to the bay he sought would ruin his carefully woven schemes. Tassled tail twitches along the snow covered ground as a long sigh rattles through his bones, and he stops. The golden son was the master of minds, and keeper of masks. Shaking those twin horns, the golden face tucks, then re-emerges, changed. Gold sparks in those earthen eyes, and a laughter lifts and rolls through his chest. It’s all fake but the word doesn’t know that. He has to do this, he needs what he desires, and so it must be done, win or lose. Pawing at the snow the golden can stand to be still no longer, masked or not the adrenaline has already begun pounding through his blood. Stepping off he lifts his golden limbs high above the snow in a showy two beat, lacing on the last of his light, and sassy countenance which would be as a second weapon to him in the fight. Trotting high he moves about his chosen site, a snowy meadow, clear of trees, but with a few bushes bravely poking through the snow like spectators waiting for the show. The golden would give it to them, but he could not do this alone. The moon, had begun at last to rise above the horizon and threw a dramatic bean across the snow, seeming to want to watch the action as well. With a final laughter he stops and lifts that horned head high to give out a piercing call. Looking to the meadow around him, hoping that bay beast is nearby, he roars out across the white expanse. “You have what I desire Oxy, bring it to me, or I will take it, by force!” Another deep chuckle rolls out and he tosses into the air with its light spirit, “Can’t you see, I’m trying to help you quit for your girlfriend!?” That blue bird was far from the golden’s true thoughts though, but it should get that bay roaring out in full force. Looking about the snow covered, moon lite meadow the gold stills himself. He still has not called the circlet to the task, but it suited his style more to flash it out at the last minute. So that clever item would remain a lovely surprise. With one last heavy sigh though the gold resolves himself, and flashes another smirk about him. In the end he would win, whether he won the battle or not. OOC :: Thran is challenging Oxy for his leather bag. This continued from Thran's attempt to steal it on the stealth board. TAG:: @[Oxy] WC::778 ATK::0/4 +defense TIME:: 3 Days Between MAGIC/COMPANIONS:: Allowed SETTINGS:: A snow covered meadow between the Falls and Heavenly Fields at night, but the moon is rising. Snow is about a foot deep. Small bushes dot the terrain which is mostly smooth. INJURIES:: None SUMMARY:: Thranduil calls to Oxy teasingly, then waits in the middle of the meadow for him. ETA:: Fixed ATK and time limits due to challenge rules. "speech" Yes, my teeth and ambitions are bared Be prepared! RE: Hidden Desires [Oxy Challenge] - Oxy - 11-04-2014
RE: Hidden Desires [Oxy Challenge] - Thranduil - 11-05-2014 Well that did it. Golden harks flick at the sounds of crunching snow to the gold’s right. A smile flashes with a brilliant wickedness in the dark shadows of his face. A golden ear twitching back is the only sign he gives of the maelstrom within. Legs dance, as the bay’s far figure gets closer, and bigger. Shit, that had not been planned for. Whispers of the tri-horned black shadow slip into his mind like venom. No. Not now, he could not, nah, he would not let that damned beast break his mask, for this show had to be convincing to get that bay enraged enough to show his cards. So the golden steels his mind, and his body. Closing those earthen eyes the gold seems to concentrate then whisper, “Aduial.” The circlet about his sparks at its cue in the moonlight. Shivering it extends a line, on either side of his mane, and grows, before spreading the other way, about his forehead. A collar encircles his shoulders, and layered silver metal lines his sides, capped into two shields on his hips. Body shivers against the metals cold touch, but like she who gifted it to him, it warms after a moment against his hotter coat. All grows still, and the golden eyes, now encircled in silver protection flash open with a cold ferocity. Now a tri-leveled horned head lowers to the coming beast, armed and ready. It was but another mask, but the bay didn’t know that. Forelegs tremble with readiness, but the gold waits. Let the bay beast spend himself rushing here in the burning rage. It proves more advantageous than even he could planned. The bay beast stumbles and falls into a tumbling mass of white snow and brown. Armored head raises and a short laugh huffs out. Apparently the bay beast wasn’t quite all there. When that brute’s head whipped from the snow though, there came a glare that silenced the gold. It was dark sinister- wait. Cold blows through the gold like a ghost and leaves him shivering, with heart racing to reissue its warmth, but is crippled as his lungs seem to lock. Damn, he can’t breathe! Nares flare and struggle in vain. Muscles lock against the growing cold and heart falters about his chest. The unease banished deep into his chest escapes and grows. Earth eyes no longer saw the charging bay, but were looking about him with wide eyes as every shadow turned into horned devils. This wasn’t where he needed to be. He needed to get away or be left crippled in the mud once more. Run, he needed to run. GO! Armored legs begin to stumble back, but for the second time, the clinking metal awakens him. Teeth bared as his mind, slow as it may be, comes to. Magic, it whispers low and frail through the fog. A spark of gold in those earth eyes breaks through the dulled panic. Turning slightly, or rather stumbling, the silver collar flashes in the moonlight, to show two dark purple amulets tucked into engraved curls. The golden wills it and one of the amulets flashes to bright velvet, then seems to swirl with black, and return to a dormant state of pure black. It had been close, the magic nearly over, but it was done. A weary smile flashes on the golden strained face. Victory is strengthening. Though chest still convulsed at the struggle to breathe in that sharp air, knowing the evil’s source, and winning his own battles pushed the golden through. Devil’s magic may have broken the gold’s mask momentarily, but it had not stopped the gold from seizing what he desired. Those dark whispers were once again locked away, as he looks to find the bay. Oh Shit. A thousand pound of charging draft were careening not five yards away. Though mind was returning, his body was still struggling. While he commanded its movement it answered in slow stumbles, all which labored his heart and breath further. Stumbling then over the snow the golden shifts his armored body left, but dragged by snow and weakness it’s too slow. Cold metal collar, slammed by the bay, rams into the gold’s chest. Without control of his body to brace against the impact the gold is shoved to the left, pushed into himself, leaving hinds spinning round, struggling to stay under him and rattling what little breathe he had left. But the armor held, and so did the gold. Now perpendicular to the bay’s charging path and seeing bay fly in front of him, the gold gave a weak (from still recovering from the hit and lingering effects of the magic) smirk, and horns, bone and metal came slicing down. It was high time someone else went home with a bloody rump. OOC :: Thranduil uses a moon amulet given by the Moon Goddess as part of his quest and captures Oxy's blood bursting magic. WC::800 ATK::1/4 +defense INJURIES:: Lingering effects of Oxy's magic will continue into next post (~10 seconds worth) SUMMARY:: Seeing Oxy charging Thranduil calls out his armor. The effects of Oxy's magic take hold quickly, and nearly make Thranduil forget why he's here, but as second pass, he realizes it is magic, and captures the last traces in his amulet for his quest. Unprepared for Oxy's shoulder it spins Thranduil slightly, but as he comes perpendicular to the bay's path he dips his head hoping horns will slice Oxy. "speech" May not win the battle, But I've already won the war. Still let's not given into dabble, In putting off the gore. RE: Hidden Desires [Oxy Challenge] - Oxy - 11-05-2014
RE: Hidden Desires [Oxy Challenge] - Thranduil - 11-07-2014 Nothing but air meets the drawn blades. Damn, why was there more air out here than in his chest. The gold’s lungs still claw inside him as sore muscles in his legs stubble to find a solid stance. This isn’t exactly going very well. His own victory won, the task of finishing the spar was looking a bit more hellish. Then, it hadn’t been something the gold had actually considered. It was supposed to be a quick skirmish. Anyone with an eye could see the gold was no warrior, despite his armor and horns. It was all a show of pride, something which was running dry lately. Feeling some solidness return to his body the gold looks ahead. There is nothing but open meadow, and soon a forest would surely hide him away. The stumble before proved that bay could not keep up. He got what he came for, why they hell should he keep making snow angels here with the bay? Coward. Oh, that word stings every nerve. It was proof that even in the golden, words sting sharper than any action. Its blinding you see, that sweet elixir of vanity that drips in that golden man’s blood. It blinds him to common sense, (after all he could have just asked for the magic), and to his true self. Twisting, manipulating, cunning, and cold, is that pride which he does not rule, it rules him. Worse, when it’s cornered, beaten, and limping along, is when it’s the most dangerous. So as low as that pride was, that armored golden head turned away from the open meadow, to find that bay hide. The golden always said he hated pets. If he had known what was about to come from that damnable race he would have given up and joined Ampere in her quests to eternally separate them. Of course, his methods would be a little bloodier than hers, but that was a small matter. Turning his hanging head the gold looking from under the silver armor for the bay’s thick hide. That dangerously low pride ragging with more blood lust and vengeance than before. It was only able to catch a glimpse of that blundering bay slowing to turn before the first snowball. It came hard and fast, hitting first the gold’s armored back. With a quick viciousness, the horned head spins around and bares teeth at this intruder in his fight. The gold may not have much sense of honor, but there was a dishonor broken in intruding in another’s fight. It was a deadly sin. That is, if someone was there to kill. No one appeared in the moonlit meadow. Golden harks lift from their permanent place, but there is nothing except a rustling but that was-oh fuck yeah the charging brute. But as the gold tries to turn back another snowball hits his neck. Bared teeth flash back to his right, as another hits the gold square on the face. But still, no form showed itself. Whatever unfortunate soul was throwing them, even if the moon Goddess was getting her kicks with it, they’d regret interfering. Wicked smile rises on the gold’s lips, he would get the bay, then get whoever hid in the night. Snow slid up and sprayed against the gold’s cold legs. Like a knock at the door in a horror film the gold with regret spins his head around, and doesn’t have to look far to see the blurred form of bay rising up. Earth eyes burn with a returning flame as the gold moves to slip from in front of him by turning parallel. As emboldened as his returning health was it was too little too late. A flying hoof met the golden flesh just below his shield in a solid hit. Though the sheets on his back were flexible the shields were not, so as the gold stumbles from the hit away from the hooves, they worsen the fall, and the gold finds his hinds crumbling. The hard unforgiving edges of those shields slam into the already tender flesh as the gold falls slightly sideways, and it was only sheer determination that kept his front from falling at the pain of the cruel master less metal hitting the already tender flesh. The gold, even as aching pain reverberated about his hind leans to the left, and with turned head those horns seek the landing bay low. This wouldn’t be a scrape, but a stabbing. The gold would have blood in this fight damnit. Angling his head up to take advantage of his low position, and pulling with his shoulders to call along his hinds for momentum, the golden waited for the sweet crimson. It was a risky move, but then when had that golden son ever taken the safe route. OOC :: WC::799 ATK::2/4 INJURIES:: Sore left knee (will stiffen) SUMMARY:: Rejecting running off, Thranduil is distracted by the snowballs, leaving him unprepared for Oxy's charge. Though the magic has worn off, and he can move faster its still too late, and one solid hoof hits its target, sending Thranduil's hips toppling over. Seeking to at last bring some blood to bear in this spar, Thranduil curves left and hopefully back into Oxy with his horns low around his shoulder or barrel. "speech" RE: Hidden Desires [Oxy Challenge] - Oxy - 11-08-2014
RE: Hidden Desires [Oxy Challenge] - Thranduil - 11-11-2014 This was new. As those bone horns scraped against the winter coat then broke and dug deeper it vibrated the golden’s skull, sending chills down his spin. It had been so long, the feeling of breaking flesh, of that escape of heat, and wave of bitter, copper smelling blood was like new. Even the stiff back hock, feeling like creaky old door, could be lost and ignored in this bloody sensation of renewed blood lust. His heart pounded away hard in his chest for it, and body was jealous that only those horns wore the blood of pride. How dare that bay beast move off when his bloody end was just beginning? Mind, recovering now fully from the drag of that wicked fog of magic, is quick to reprimand the instincts of the gold, hissing at him, you’re not here for that. Snorting, like a charger being reined in, the gold pulls that horned head back, shaking with frustration. His dying pride had fed upon that rich dark blood split upon the snow, and now, stronger, it moved with a more containable cold calculation. Though that deep hit of magic had ripped away the gold’s mask, the spilt blood had vanished whatever insecurity lay in his chest. The golden son has no fears, no nightmares, or so he would tell you. For his darkest fears are not of this world, and known to none here, which made the bay pet’s trick all the crueler. Where there had been a bay, there now flashed falling gold, right before the horned head. Body jerks backwards at this interruption and anger flares at yet another intrusion into this spar. Earth eyes roll down to catch what had fallen before him, ready to crush it and move on. Instead, it crushed him without even touching him. There upon the snow, under a thin film of red, lay a small golden body with white marks like those of our fighter. It was new, and on the verge of a vigorous life, but it was stone cold, and death corrupted its precious features. The dead foal of gold was the hardest blow any opponent could level. For this fear was darker, deeper, and sharper than even those shadows which had haunted him before like a murder compared to a small spider, because it was a murder. Mouth hung open, and heart (which was getting quite a work out emotion wise today), fluttered about its walls of flesh. Spanish head began to dip towards the small fallen creature when in a flash it vanished, replaced by ironed missiles. A sharp cry, harsh and pained roared from the golden’s open maw, and instinct took over the addled mind, trapped as it still was in the webs of that image. Front half rose that body up and to the right to escape, but it is, once more, too late. The bay’s right hind hoof hits solidly on the soft flesh of the gold’s neck just above his collar. Reinforced as the hit was with iron, the breath of the gold fails for a moment and his legs fall back to earth, stumbling to the side from the hit. A small cut, barely visible stings in the mud like slush that the hoof left, and the gold’s stomach twists in knots at the continued pounding the swelling of blood brings. But that pain only serves to bring him back quicker. Cold, cruel glare rises up in those earth eyes and look for that bay coat. The hit was hard and harsh, that is certain, but the bay (which the golden believed responsible for this in a second form of magic) had committed a worse crime. How dare he reach inside the gold’s mind and use it against him! It was despicable, and broke every honorable code (well the few that were in this world for the gold). How dare that son of a bitch! Body lifted and moved forward, cloven hooves gripping in the slush the two had created. The soothing his pride had gained from the spilt blood, and the simmering rage such a hit below the belt had caused combined, in a dangerous chemical reaction. Oh how much the golden man had changed since the start. A few rough hits he had been ready for, but the emotional attacks had caught him completely off guard, a rare occurrence. So as the golden raced to that bay hide he brought with him loaded guns. Left hock strained, and his chest protests but the gold could not let the low hit go without answer. Shoulder struck out, hoping that metaled bone would slam into the bay, and while doing so those deadly array of horns lower towards where the bay should be, ready to steal yet more blood in retaliation. OOC :: WC::800 ATK::3/4 INJURIES:: Sore and stiff left hock -- sore chest just above is collar SUMMARY:: Feeling empowered by the drawing of blood, Thranduil moves to go after Oxy, but is stopped by the boggart which takes the form of a dead foal that looks suspiciously like the golden. Thinking it was more of Oxy's magic (because he knows nothing of boggarts) the gold is enraged that Oxy would first invade his memories, and second take such a low hit. Caught off guard then when Oxy bucks, he is caught on the underside of his throat by his collar with the right hoof. Pissed, but in control more than usual, he charges after Oxy and lowers his head, hoping to draw more blood or at least run into him with his armor (didn't know where Oxy would be, so please feel free Sevin to dictate that). "speech" RE: Hidden Desires [Oxy Challenge] - Oxy - 11-13-2014
RE: Hidden Desires [Oxy Challenge] - Thranduil - 11-16-2014 It was a train wreck of flesh, horns, and egos. Metal armor clanks into the bay’s ribs, while pushing back on the gold, but he was giving no ground. Horned head slices down, and at least one the gold can feel scrapes into the other’s coat. Again, the copper smell slips into the air those hungry lungs claw for, and even for his warnings the gold can’t help but lift his lips in a twisted grin. Oh how good it felt to at last have revenge in his grasp for once, to make another pay for their insolence in pain. He calls it revenge, but in truth it had been a move, on the boggart’s part, that was an eye for an eye, to repeat a saying which had been going around Helovia a lot lately. The gold had taken the same low hit upon Oxy, and his precious snowflake. Of course, the golden would tell you that was a completely separate matter, and had been a necessary evil. As head swung back out to come straight again and armored shoulder slid out of his ribs, things began to happen very quickly, but to the gold it seemed like ages. All of the gold’s body was feeling the strain. Even in this cold night under the contact of the metal a lathered sweat had arisen, and legs began to feel strained from manipulating his body through the mix of melted snow and mud. The gold was tough though, or so he would lead you to believe. Still, this battle could not go on forever. A dark shape moved in front of him swinging up. Body jerked back and away, but not before the horns met his metal coat. Horns rattled down against the metal, clinking as it went over the ridges. Ha! Not a scratch hit his golden coat. Wicked grin now turned wild, and though his mind tried to rein in the wave of adrenaline that began pumping through him, it could not be stopped. The entire spar he had been fighting to keep control, having remembered so painfully his loss. But now, with his own personal battle won, symbolized by that black amulet, and successfully making that bay pay for his atrocity of reaching into the gold’s mind, well, that loss seemed more and more like a fleck of a memory. So, worn and weary as he was, and possibly loosing this battle as he was in our eyes, the gold was, in his mind, ready to send the final blow. Armored legs, having trotted up just past the bay now picked up high and slowed the gold’s gait. The adrenaline that had flood his veins and was pounded through every muscle dampering some of the harsher wounds. His stiff hock, though each muscle complained of their continued use, hopped and skipped along to power his wishes. Bared teeth were not really due to the presence of the bay but the gold’s own frustration with his injured hind slowing him as he turned in front of the bay. The lump pressing against his chest did thin his breath, but so was the sharp cold air and consistent struggling in the snow. So it did slow him as well, again not to his liking, but the gold was on a mission. He was not as completely reckless as before, but there was a new edge to the golden son’s threats. Coming up on the left of the bay the gold turns his horns away. Cloven hooves danced in the mud and snow slush, it was dangerous, but the gold was blind to the lesson the bay had learned about tricky footing. The gold with renewed trust in his armor to protect him from the bay now seems to dance sideways, his rear coming to turn towards the bay, if he had stood still. Prancing along the side of the gold in a quick step the gold was lucky not to slip in the muck, but his luck wouldn’t last for long. With suddenness the gold’s hooves planted and his head drops. Hind hooves, now aimed, hopefully at the bay’s side or hip, came flying out with tremendous force, even his stiff hock springs out with considerable power. Oh but that golden would once again have to learn harder lessons of battle. Front hooves slip away from each other at holding the gold’s full weight and muscles in his forelegs and chest seize. It holds him but sends pain shooting up his legs, hitting the lump in his chest like an anvil and hammer. Rough hack shoots through his lips, but he was too proud and determined to let it collapse him. So jaw grips tight and weariness like a gong announces to the gold he can go no more. OOC :: WC::800 ATK::4/4 INJURIES:: Sore and stiff left hock (worsening) -- Sore chest just above is collar -- Pulled muscles in his front legs SUMMARY:: Oxy's horns meet Thranduil's armor, and so the gold goes unharmed forward. Feeling empowered to overcome the growing weariness for a moment the gold turns and comes up Oxy's left, but does so sideways, turned away. When he stops and bucks towards the bay's hips or side, but Thranduil's hooves slip and he too pulls muscles in his chest aggravating the hit in his chest. "speech" RE: Hidden Desires [Oxy Challenge] - Oxy - 11-19-2014
RE: Hidden Desires [Oxy Challenge] - Official - 11-20-2014 By my verdict: OXY is the winner!
OXY (because he attacked first) Realism [+3] Thranduil rolled a 1 against Oxy, but in your post 2/4, I did not see you take any damage? Was there a scratch? You didn’t include a summary, so I couldn’t double check. Otherwise, the realism with Oxy’s battle was excellent. You included the footing very well, especially in comparison to his size. I would have liked to have seen more height/weight comparison from Oxy with regards to his thoughts on Thranduil, but otherwise, I was impressed. Emotion [+2] For a brick wall of a character, Oxy can certainly be emotional. I enjoyed how you quickly turned his fear into anger and how he was so easily riled and took offense to the mention of Elsa (I assume?). I like that the emotion felt very serious and real, consistently. Even when he realized he was being over-reactive, the protective anger was still in the background. Everything flowed from one post to the next and there were not sharp jumps from emotion to emotion, and I think that is what made it so palpable. Prose [+4] “Your can feel the hate in your very bones” A few issues here and there, but overall very clearly written. I rarely had to double check what you were writing. Readability [+2.5] Very easy to read! Finally tally: 30.5 + (11.5*2) = 53.5 HP *******************************************
THRANDUIL Realism [+3.5] I get what you are trying to say in your third post about ramming his shoulder into Oxy, but saying the shoulder struck out makes me wonder how the shoulder itself could move independently. I think that was the only time where I ever got “confused” with what you were saying with attacks and defenses. What I was really impressed with was how you actually used your armor in battle as a reason for deflection, but I would also love to read about how it could hinder movement with weight or the attachments! Emotion [+1.5] I really liked the emotion I was feeling from Thranduil, but it felt a little disjointed. For example, you spoke quite a bit about his pride and how it was faltering, but then it seemed to vacillate in the rest of your posts. Pride is a really interesting emotion that can be played out very cleverly in battle. However, I could definitely feel what Thranduil was feeling throughout the fight! Prose [+3] A few dropped commas here and there, and I felt that in places, the posts were a little disjointed. The flow moving from attack to defense was not as clear in a few places. For example, in your post ¾, you didn’t really write that he had moved or gone somewhere to observe this dying foal, but then Oxy’s attack came, so I had no idea of position. :: sending chills down his spin. | post ¾ Readability [+2.5] Very easy read! Finally tally: 24 + (10.5*2) = 45 HP |