HELOVIA || The Way to the Sun
[JUDGED] Pick Up Your Feet [Ashamin v. Auriel] - 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] Pick Up Your Feet [Ashamin v. Auriel] (/showthread.php?tid=22106)



Pick Up Your Feet [Ashamin v. Auriel] - Ashamin - 12-25-2015

ashamin
&lochan

As he looked out over the meadow, Ashamin squinted. It was rare that this lush field found itself covered in any ice, rarer still in this mild season. But even warmer climes found their storms, and last night the meadow had been struck by one. The haruspex picked over its melting, icy remains now in the blinding brightness of the day with Lochan at his side.

Both of them found themselves irritable.

Too bright, too early, too warm and too slippery. There was no way to get a good grip in the mud, no way to see clearly with the sun bouncing off of every facet of the meadow. They wandered but they waited, too. They were both in the mood to let off some steam. Ashamin was plagued by his quest, Lochan by his bonded's attitude as of late.

As uncharacteristic and strange as the anger was in combination with the shining day, it was there. The haruspex was adorned in the heavy armor given to him by the Laurelin, the sparking ornament from the watcher, and the bear god's helmet hung about his neck with a host of amulets. He felt heavy, he felt old. He was slowed, he was aching. Still, he wanted to fight.

A rustle in the bushes caused him to snap his head to face what might have been another soul, and with a low rumble he neighed into the light. "If you have a fight in you, whoever you are, show it to me with honor. A day such as this need not be wasted in the throes of sloth," he called out--it was a challenge, but more of a relaxed invitation than that with which he had summoned the shape-shifting mare.

He could only hope that this day's challenger would have a bit more of a spine.

""
image credits


WC: 305/800
PC: 0/3 0/1
TIMELINE: 2 Weeks between
SETTING: Thistle Meadow. Sunny day and the ice of a previous storm is melting, making everything muddle and slippery with some still icy patches. It's very bright and cloudless, which combined with the ice and snow still around makes a very reflective scene.
TEACHING: Yes, OOC comments given by me
NOTE: Sorry it's a bit short, it's Christmas and all so time is scarce. Left it open for you to start in case you want that extra closing defense for me to give you notes on.


RE: Pick Up Your Feet [Ashamin v. Auriel] - Auriel - 01-08-2016

it was said that the blood of the stars
flowed in her veins
I opened my eyes slowly, groaning when my vision was immediately met with blinding bright light. As much as I longed to pull my wing over my eyes and go back to sleep, I had to return to the Edge. I was frequently absent from my herd and tended to spend more time in fields and meadows, contemplating my life choices. One of those choices was joining the Edge, and making a commitment to it's protectors.

With this in mind, I reluctantly arose from my resting spot. So far, I had come to realize I was not all that great at protecting. My first spar with Volterra left me in a rather pathetic state. Simply thinking of him made my withers hurt. But I wouldn't give up on my job. I had decided that I would suck, and keep sucking until I didn't suck anymore. My mother had offered to teach me how to fight, the prospect sounding increasingly appealing the more I thought about it.

I decided today would be the day I took her up on that.

I began to carefully traverse the meadow's sludge of snow and mud, looking for a drier spot to take off at. But the ground beneath my hooves was more slippery than I had expected it to be, and I soon found myself stumbling into a bush.

It was then I found out I wasn't alone in the meadow.

My heart began to race, I could beating hear it in my ears. My breath was shaky, eyes wide and panicked as the horse on the other side of the bush addressed me.

He was looking for a fight.

I wasn't sure if I could do it. I had proved myself to be of no use in battle, but I longed to try again. The sound of his voice, dripping with the valiancy of a practiced warrior, invigorated me. I wanted to be honorable, I wanted to be strong, I wanted to be more than the weak little girl I was on the inside.

My gaze slipped between the leaves of the bush, eyeing the stallion that had issued the challenge. He was adorned in a great deal of amulets and armor and accompanied by a deer. His assets were certainly problematic. I had only a small dagger, practically a trinket compared to his arsenal. He was similarly to myself, though I was a bit more on the draft side than he. I figured I had to have a bit of strength on him (thanks, dad). Even from where I was, I could tell I was taller than him. After my spar with Volterra, I had realized that height was immensely important. To have a hand and some muscle on this stallion made me feel a bit more confident, a bit more motivated, perhaps even enough to want to show him (show myself?) I could be an honorable protector.

I inhaled deeply, steadying my breath and slowing my heart rate. The spar with my mother would simply have to wait, for I had a challenger here. I leapt abruptly from the bushes, my ascent sloppy and short due to the slippery ground. I spread my wings out a bit to lengthen my time in the air some, to get as close to the stallion as I could. A small smile crept onto my face, for I had a plan. I had suppressed my hesitation, my doubt, for there could be none of that in battle. I felt only brazen bloodlust, spurred on by my recent failure.

I can be better than that.

I tried to exhale my smoky breath toward the stallion's face, letting the small cloud plume about the air. My throat was immediately parched by my magic, making me wince and turn away from the stallion, for I did not want him to see that it hurt me as well. I swallowed, hard, in order to suppress the scratchiness of my throat somewhat. It helped little. To add to that discomfort, I landed in perhaps the most graceless display ever, slipping about on the sludge that covered the ground. I decided to aim myself at his left shoulder, hoping to slide harshly into his left shoulder and send him flying backwards. I figured if I was going to slip and slide, then I might as well make an attack out of it.

A technique that was not my own, but one I assumed would work in this case of height differences. It had worked when Volterra had used on me, so why wouldn't do the same in this case?



1/3
768/800
magic used - :: [ Magic: DarkxLight (U) | The ability to blow her smokey breath in other's faces and make them hallucinate their greatest fears and go wild, but the power parches her throat ]
:: [ Restrictions | The effects last for only 45 seconds and the parching of her throat restricts her to only one use in battle ]

(also: IAMSO SORRY FOR THE WAIT JEN ;~; I'll try to reply more timely from now on)
/ image



RE: Pick Up Your Feet [Ashamin v. Auriel] - Ashamin - 01-12-2016

ashamin
&lochan

What came from the bushes was not what Ashamin expected. It had been quite some time since he'd last seen a pegasus, living in the Basin meant that his life was unfortunately lacking in species diversity. Having a winged opponent wasn't a bad thing, though, it was simply a challenge. Hadn't Ashamin been hoping for exactly that?

So when the bushes parted and a bright flash of feathers and fury broke through, Ashamin steeled himself. It was Lochan who, for once, was startled. Surprised by the disturbance, the cerndyr leaped behind his sturdy bonded for safety. Adorned as he was in armor, Ashamin stood as a powerful testament to what could be earned with hard work. The painted could not only protect himself, but he could protect Lochan. Don't worry, little eye, Ashamin said as he watched the foreign body leap with spread wings. I will keep you safe.

It was possible, though, that the painted buck spoke too soon. With the rush of wind brought forth by the mare's wings came sinister breath, darkness so insidious that it incapacitated the haruspex. Ashamin inhaled unconsciously with surprise, and before he knew it, the whole world around him changed.

Ashamin the haruspex was not afraid of the dark or the snow, but when what had been a bright and muddy world around him turned to an eerily familiar blizzard night, Ashamin suddenly found those two aspects of life to be terrifying. Sharp, canine eyes flashed from the surroundings and, filled with horror, the haruspex reared. It was a stroke of luck that the upwards motion saved Ashamin from the brutal force of the mare who, unbeknownst to the haruspex, was charging for his now raised left shoulder. The buck hadn't been given any time to see how much more powerful she was than he before this hallucination had struck. Reason left him, all sense was gone, and the very memory of the mare and the spar slipped away in seconds so that he could not understand the pain he'd just been spared. Ashamin flailed as he struggled for balance, churned his forehooves as he felt his hind ones slip out from underneath him. He could see nothing through the blizzard, and the splashes of mud on his legs felt like snowfall as the mare's magic overtook his mind. Despite his efforts, Ashamin could not maintain his balance. He had bought some time, shredded the seconds that the stranger's magic would possess him with a violent thrashing of hooves and perhaps struck her wing with his daggers if it happened to be near, but nothing more could be done. The body of his father appeared to be before him on the ground, bloody and torn apart by wolves now coming for Ashamin himself, and there was nothing he could do but fall.

Lochan was fast, it would always be something the cerndyr's bonded took pride in, and at that very moment speed saved the companion from a weight that would have crushed him. Ashamin, blinded by hallucination and caught off-balance by the combination of mud underneath his feet and the still-new weight of armor wrapped around him, was a body falling backwards that could not be stopped. His long tail hit the ground first, the coils striking against a patch of ice and scattering sparks in all directions. The body followed, his hind hooves slipping to his right and causing him to fall in the opposite direction and towards the mare. His hoof crashed into an icy puddle and pain followed in waves as a ligament in his right stifle tore fibers as if they were nothing but frayed threads. As hallucination reigned Ashamin felt the tear as if it came from the teeth of wolves. Weakness slid through him as gravity pulled him towards the earth. Lochan leaped around his bonded, braying with concern as Ashamin's pain traveled across their bond.

It's my father, Ashamin thought in the split second before his landing, it's my father, and I've let him die.

The voice of his companion saved him. Ashamin had forgotten him, but Lochan had never kept his bonded out of sight. No, the little eye said as his first word. Safe.

With those words and the passing of forty five seconds of hell, the hallucination faded and the haruspex saw the world around him once more. He felt the rush of air and was blinded by the Thistle Meadow's sunlight. Pain shot through his stifle and disorientation caused new fear to move through his heart as he caught sight of his opponent, the mare who had cast this strange magic on his mind. Something else was there, though, as the moment came to a close. Lochan had spoken to him for the first time. The little eye had spoken.


""
image credits


WC: 799/800
PC: 1/3 0/1

OOC NOTES
What Worked
  • Previous Experience: As you mentioned Auriel is an inexperienced fighter, but the one spar that she has been in she is drawing on and using for specific examples. The way you wrote her borrowing Volterra's tactic was great because it shows that she's learning by copying right now, which is especially realistic given that she's new to this role. The fact that her own magic hurts her too because she hasn't fully learned how to control it is realistic. Tied in with this is...
  • Emotion/Motivation: Auriel is hesitant. She doesn't trust herself, she isn't certain, and this all comes through. It makes for an interesting spar and makes sense for your character. She has self doubt instead of an unrealistic and sudden amazing skill in battle. Even if she were overconfident, her moves might not be so slick because she hasn't learned many of her own yet. She's still determined though, and wants to get better! All this was just really clear to see and came through in your writing, so great job.
  • Environment: Good use of the mud to slip and slide! I wanted to know a bit more about these (what the mud feels like on her body) but overall good job employing it and noting it in general.
  • Breed & Height Difference: Great job making note of these. Just don't forget species differences, too!

    What Needs Work
  • Unnecessary damage: You have to be careful with writing anything in that could be perceived as damage if you haven't taken any. Since there hadn't been any rolls yet, Auriel started off the fight with some attacks that hurt her. Slipping and landing could have sent a shock to her body, and though your use of her magic scratching her throat was clever you wrote it as pain rather than simple irritation or being parched as in the magic restriction, and that could be equivalent to a low damage roll. Just be sure to follow the dice with damage and never give yourself more than you have to.
  • Attack aiming/positioning: It was difficult to tell where Auriel was in relation to Ashamin, in part because of some of her attacks. Her first one came as she leapt at him and was her magic breath--but how far does breath really travel, even a powerful breath? Something like that seems like it might need to be close quarters, and it's unclear how close she intends to be to Ashamin at this point. The other thing was the slam attack, which was combined with a slip and spurred by a glide-jump. The initial leap came from out of the bush, but something like that could cause scrapes or at the very least would be felt/noted by Auriel and should, in turn, be noted by you as a part of the environment. It was smart to use the environment but because you wrote her as having little control over her motion because of the mud and landing, it seems unlikely that she (as previously established, an unskillled fighter) would have enough finesse to aim anything while slipping. By putting her in this position she's more likely to fall and take damage to herself or her wing, which ties into...
  • Awareness of body: You say Auriel is trying to slam into Ashamin's shoulder, but where is her wing as she does this? Is it folded, up, down? Depending on where it is, Ashamin would take the attack differently and you would want to respond to the impact differently as well. Bent at the wrong angle, feathers or bone could snap. Bent at the right angle, it could do some serious damage to Ashamin. Without you writing it in, I'm unable to assume it's in any position and thus my response to this attack is limited. Other parts of her body like hoof, horn, etc all come into play too when a landing as chaotic as hers is in play. If it were a more clearly planned attack they wouldn't be as essential to know, but in this case they're important. Also, sort of random, but she just woke up--is she sleepy at all? Maybe this would affect her body and movement.

    Overall a great start! Looking forward to continuing this with you, happy sparring!


    RE: Pick Up Your Feet [Ashamin v. Auriel] - Auriel - 01-24-2016

    it was said that the blood of the stars
    flowed in her veins
    Gotcha.

    Unfurling from my lips and into his, my smoke had done it's job. I couldn't help but smirk as I watched the stallion inhale my magic, his nightmare. Despite his eyes being blacker than any I had ever known, I still recognized the fear that subsequently gripped his gaze. But the terror that began to spread through his body was different than my previous experimental subjects. What had happened to my magic? Was it stronger now? Had it grown as I had?

    I watched it consume him, drown him, make him struggle to even stand, and I wondered if it was truly I who had caused this. How could I be capable of this? Wasn't I supposed to be a little princess, not some barbaric Amazonian? A twinge of guilt flickered within me, and something else, something so heinous it made me sick. Until then, I was scared of nothing. I wasn't scared of hellhounds, or bloodthirsty men twice my size. I wasn't scared of the dark, or fire, hell, I wasn't even scared of losing my family again.

    But I was scared of myself.

    I trembled as I watched him, horrified by what I had done. I watched him rear and let myself slide into his shoulder and part of his upper leg, too stunned to do much about it. My momentum was difficult to overcome, so I didn't even try to. It stole what little air was left in my lungs away, a sensation I doubted I would ever get used to. I squeezed my eyes shut, turning my head away from the stallion. Maybe if I make myself smaller I'll shrink till I'm nothing, till I don't have to see what I've done anymore. Are there souls in the world who find pleasure in others' pain? I thought perhaps it was a story, a nightmare, they don't exist, they can't exist. But when I had felt that guilt, I felt pleasure, too. It was then that I realized my nightmares do exist, and they exist within myself.

    I was careless, I was selfish, and focused little on the stallion before me until I noticed his hoof grazing my left wing. I inhaled sharply, opening my eyes and giving him an accusatory glare. The top of my wing now bared a wound, blood beginning to pour from the gash. The crimson blazed against the black hues of my wing, filling me with dread. My mother would not be happy to see that. Volterra had left me with only bruises and a few teeth marks I could cover up with my mane, but this lined the top of my wing. I could only hope it wouldn't leave a scar. I tucked my wings close to my body, trying to back away from him as much as I could, but I found the ground was still slippery. Finding my footing was not easy, the matters being made worse by the stinging on my wing, floundering of the stallion, and —

    Sparks?!

    I struggled more to put space between us, but it was of no use. The stallion, whom I had decided to call Sparky, was falling towards me. My hooves couldn't find an adequate hold on any ground further away, it was too slippery, too slimy and at this point, almost engulfing my fetlocks. I couldn't run away, so I was going to have to deal with Sparky. I was getting pretty damn tired of having horses fall into me all the time (fucking Volterra — why must you cross my mind so often? What would he do in this situation? Did it even matter? No, it didn't, for this was my problem, not his). I tucked my head, aiming my split horns for the stallion's shoulder. I thrusted my head toward him, hoping to offset his tumble with my horns. But his cream colored armor looked thick. I decided it didn't matter, though, my main goal was to get him away from me, even if only for a moment. But I wouldn't mind making him pay for the stinging gash I had on my wing.

    Fall into me all you want, Sparky, but I'm not about to let you get away without a bruise.

    There it was again, a sickening sense of pleasure stemming from what I could only describe as bloodlust. The idea of my horns, drawing blood, merely the idea, made me unimaginably giddy. And nauseous. I was a bit sad Sparky wasn't my father in that moment, though. I wouldn't have felt nauseous making him bleed.



    2/3
    768/800

    / image



    RE: Pick Up Your Feet [Ashamin v. Auriel] - Ashamin - 02-04-2016

    ashamin
    &lochan

    Time moved slowly for the haruspex. The fall seemed eternal, its landing far away and unattainable. Landing became something Ashamin was almost dreaming for, something he wanted more than anything else. At least to fall completely would be to feel the earth solid beneath him once more, to remind him that the world was not all the darkness of evil and hallucination.

    The mare was a phantom, an enemy coming from nowhere. Ashamin could see her, out of the corner of his wide eyes and in rapid, nervous paintings sent to his mind from his small bonded. His left side floated in the air, seemingly moving by milliseconds, no slower, no, slower. Time was a thing outside of the haruspex, far from his understanding or control. All he had was sparks, all he had was some sort of fire in his heart that slowly, painfully, was burning.

    When at last he thought he landed Ashamin instead found himself jabbed by something he couldn't see but, through his armor, felt like a particularly stiff stick. The impact was more a bother than a pain, and his ears flicked with rapid surprise when he made the connection that such dulling was a result of his new garb. So this was the true strength his armor held, was it? Had he time to smile he would have, for such a useful dampening of a blow could not be underestimated. Though it was true that perhaps a better grip on the earth or a better angle might have made the attack's instrument (which, with help from a quick sketch from his bonded, Ashamin now understood to be the mare's horn) more deadly, Ashamin was not going to take time to analyze it now.

    Though his right stifle still burned too much to rely on that leg, the push of the horn on his left was enough for Ashamin to be righted ever so slightly--to gather the other three legs folding other him and unfurl them just in time.  The left legs splayed left, the right following them just enough so that his balance was well enough restored. Though the mud was too slippery for Ashamin to gain a clear footing, he was able to stop himself from face-planting completely, thanks to the mare's painful nudging him in the right direction.

    So what remained, then? There was a second when, before he could even look at her, Ashamin was just struggling to catch his breath. He stood muddied and frantic, pain and exhaustion wrapping around him like a constrictor. Every inhale was heavy in his chest, same as the grief inflicted upon him by this mare's magic. Who was she but a stranger? How had she known his weaknesses, so easily inflicted them upon him? Never before had his love for his father been used as a weapon against him, and the mere thought of her violation of that purity was the greatest insult Ashamin was able to imagine. Before there had been no time to reflect, but now he had that precious second, that perfect series of breaths, to realize the horror of what she had done to him.

    Lochan, ever at his aid, leaped to Ashamin's right side and tugged on the armor there, hoping to further right and lend support to the haruspex. Ashamin's hind right leg was lifted like a flamingo's, awkward as he tried to curl his body around the wound. With steady care he would be able to step on the leg again, but he wasn't going to try it now.

    Now, with rage in his heart at the thought of the exploitation of his love, Ashamin felt none of that pain. Perhaps it was the warrior's spirit dulling the hurt, or perhaps it was the wide swaths of black that Lochan painted his bonded's mind. Whatever the cause, Ashamin was able to focus for long enough on something other than hurt to summon his magic.

    The electricity was a wild thing, powerful and full of a potential. He sent it towards the mare with vicious energy, standing entirely still and barely casting her a glance as he did so. The painted buck had no words for her and her wickedness, did nothing but cast the surge in her direction. He hoped to shock her system, speed her heart, and then pull the magic back at the last, most painful second. Ashamin didn't know how much damage it would do. The magic had brought Thranduil to his knees but done little to others; its full power was still unknown to Ashamin.

    The haruspex hoped, though, to hurt this mare. He wanted her to writhe in pain, to see her life and her love flash before her eyes. She deserved far worse than that for what she'd done.

    ""
    image credits


    WC: 798/800
    PC: 2/3 0/1

    OOC NOTES
    What Worked
  • Emotion, Character, and Writing: As before, Auriel has a great emotion. Her character is clear, her responses are just so her, and I really love that. The way she thought about her injury in relation to what her mother would think was a wonderful moment to read. The line about how she wanted to shrink into nothing, to not see what she had done, was so beautiful that I'm sorry I didn't nom it for QOTM in time :(.
  • History: Ooh! So good! That bit about her father at the end and her fear of her own darkness really comes into play here in a way that makes sense given the situation and also adds good emotional background for your reader/opponent.
  • Items: Good job making note of what Ashamin is wearing and how it will affect Auriel's attack. She's inexperienced enough to try it anyway, but not blind, so it's good that she's judging the armor in her attack.
  • Not really technical, but I love that she came up with a nickname for him too, one based on the item he has and used and you made good note of while not taking unnecessary damage. :)

    What Needs Work
  • Powerplay: You wrote in your post that Auriel slid into Ashamin's shoulder and upper leg. Too stunned to do much about it was good, her lack of control and use of the slippery environment was good, but the actual striking Ashamin is the problem. I specifically wrote in my post that Ashamin reared and avoided that attack, so there's no way she could have hit him. What you did was essentially go back in time and inflict damage on (or at least make contact with) Ashamin that I decided not to take. I have no way to respond to it now, since it's past that, and since it's not how my character took it anyway. You have to be really careful that the finished attacks you write line up with what the other person said they took them as, because doing otherwise is powerplay. If it was a matter of this not being clear enough in my post, please let me know in the future!
  • Damage: What's always really important is to consider the dice roll when taking your damage. Ashamin rolled a one, the lowest possible amount of damage he (sporting an average but basically unexceptional damage stat) can do to Auriel. Not only did you take the damage of impact against his body knocking the air out of Auriel, but you took the grazing of the wing. A wing is a pretty vital part of the body for a pegasus, but it's fine to take damage there given that it's where he was vaguely aimed. The thing is though, the scrape you write seems to turn into something worse. Next sentence there's suddenly a lot of blood and it's described as a gash, which is defined as being "a long deep slash, cut, or wound." Something like that is a pretty serious injury, maybe more akin to a four-six depending on someone's damage stat. You also say it's along the top of the wing and couldn't be covered with her mane, which suggests to me it's pretty big and visible. It also continues to bother her throughout the post, rather than be something she can just brush aside. In general, one is a small thing like stubbing your toe, as low as your opponent can go and not something terribly hindering. Something like a bruise or scrape, maybe even just a few feathers bent painfully, would have done the trick.


    RE: Pick Up Your Feet [Ashamin v. Auriel] - Auriel - 02-18-2016

    it was said that the blood of the stars
    flowed in her veins
    For a moment, a fleeting, amorphous moment, I felt nothing. I acted on instinct, on desperation. I felt no relief when my horns met his side, only a vague awareness regarding how lackluster my hooves looked covered in mud and the sudden absence of ruinous slipping between us.

    I looked only at the ground, at my muddied, frosted hooves, a hazy cloud of my breath momentarily obscuring their image in my eyes. I wasn't sure what to feel, or rather, what I was supposed to feel. My bloodlust wasn't satisfied, but sedated. This cognizance was foreign to me; it took the entirety of that brief, obfuscated moment for me to identify that anomalous perception as hollow. I felt hollow.

    Even the very deadness of my emotion did not bother me.

    The fact that my horns had hit made no difference, and even if they hadn't, the effect on me would have been the same. I was hollow, and no amount of someone else's blood would fill me. And so I stood, staring, letting that numbness overtake my essence. I found it easier to feel nothing than to feel at all, and accepted that emotionless void without question. I felt my body recoil from my attack, pressing my weight onto my hind legs. My body felt it, but my mind did not. I let my head fall lower, tucking it away from Sparky.

    Hide, hide, hide, become nothing.

    But the damage was done and the price left unpaid. I had played with lightning and yet to have had my sting. I wasn't anticipating it, I wasn't anticipating anything, but it's shock was far worse than anything I had expected from Sparky. I had underestimated the man, assuming my height and build was enough to best him, but it wasn't. Without word and without warning an electric storm swelled beneath my heart. It engulfed the senses I was sure I had lost, sending it's savage sting through my body. I choked, a cloud of my breath lodged in my throat. I felt helpless, I felt as if I was watching my family abandon me again.

    "S - stop," I choked, feeling my knees begin to shake.

    I felt as if I were being ripped apart, the hollowness I had found solace in only a moment ago ripped unceremoniously from my tender grasp. I let out a stifled cry as so many of my carefully suppressed emotions resurfaced with that burning electric wave I felt in my heart.

    Anxiety.

    Fuck, not again. Don't do this again, don't leave me again, please. I'll do better, I can be nicer, I can be stronger. I don't want to be left again, I can't be alone again, please. What if they leave me? What if I'm alone again? What will I do? I can't do it. Oh Gods, please.

    Dejection.

    But the first time they left was for a reason, wasn't it? It's because I'm nothing to my family, isn't it? That's why they left me. I'm not as good as them. I don't mean anything to them. Do I mean anything to anyone? Do I matter at all?

    I felt as if I could hardly even breathe. "Stop," I mustered out the single, pained word. My knees finally gave out on me, for my body could no longer stand the electric sea. I tucked my head between my knees as I struggled to keep at least my hind legs standing. But it was of little use.  I was still on the ground.

    Anguish.

    On the ground where you belong.


    That was it, my breaking point, the moment my mind cracked, gaped in the face of all it's horrors. That was when I ripped.

    "STOP IT," I screamed, throwing my head up, invoking a magic I had little experience with. I used it so often in dire situations, when I was on the ground mostly (fucking Volterra). I rarely meant to use it. It simply happened when I had taken too much of a beating for my mind to handle anymore. I felt no remorse for using it, though, and as soon as the ear splitting tone rippled through the air, I began to feel that horrible sting dull and subside. The electric wave receded, and I was left with nothing but a smoldering, hollow heart.



    3/3
    719/800

    :: [ Magic: DarkxSpark (U) | When she screams, she emits a high frequency electric wave, causing disorientation and shaking vision and leaving a lasting headache ]
    :: [ Restrictions | Effects those within a 5m radius; Effects last 30 seconds in battle and 2 posts in a normal thread ]

    / image



    RE: Pick Up Your Feet [Ashamin v. Auriel] - Ashamin - 03-04-2016

    ashamin
    &lochan

    Watching her did not give him the satisfaction he expected. Seeing her in such pain, a sort of fuzzy apparition behind the cloud of his own breath in the cold, was not what he wanted. Ashamin had wanted to hurt her, maybe, but he'd forgotten what that looked like. Somehow, he'd forgotten how powerful he was.

    Or maybe he hadn't. Maybe the haruspex truly was a cruel, monstrous thing. Maybe his persona as a kind and friendly seer was a mere construct, built up for the sake of his herd mates. Perhaps it was all an act, a ruse, some part played so convincingly that he'd fooled even himself.

    Whatever the case, Ashamin knew that the moment his magic took hold of her heart, the moment she started to beg and the moment that her tone conveyed such hurt, he regretted his actions. His own heart pounded but slowly, as if bogged down by the obvious weight of his mistake. His black eyes were wide as they focused, first on the mare and then on his companion, who had moved to stand before him, as he desperately hoped his bonded could help.

    They relied on each other. At the end of the day Ashamin could not survive without Lochan, and Lochan could not survive without the haruspex. That did not exclude their bond from tests, however. Cruelty like this, resting deep in Ashamin's heart, was one such test.

    Stop! The cerndyr shouted in his mind. The voice of the creature still seemed so new and strange to Ashamin. The haruspex turned back to the mare, trying to peel back the fingers of his magic that so tightly gripped his heart, but found it strangely hard. Luckily for him, the mare had magic that was strong enough to help him give in.

    Her final word was a scream so loud that it felt to the haruspex as if his skull was being torn apart from the inside. The hurt of it rattled in his brain and he lost all sense of reason. Desperately he threw down his injured leg to steady himself, forgetting the torn stifle that had pinched it into a folded, defensive position. A new pain ran up his leg like a lashing, tingling along his spine and reverberating with the massive headache. When he tried to look at the mare, to see the source of her magic, he saw only a blurred and tangled mess, a triplicate of her image in scattered pieces that were impossible to put together. Her scream blended with his own; knowing nothing else but pain, the haruspex howled into the cold day with abandon.

    The image of the pair was likely horrendous. Ashamin could barely see himself or his enemy, and the effects of whatever her strange magic was caused him to blur the image of himself and his companion with the mare. Suddenly her wings seemed to be floating and shifting, moving from figure to figure. When he looked down at his hooves he saw a memory of Lochan's eyes instead, staring up at him from the mud when in actuality they blinked in pain themselves. Even the cerndyr was affected by the magic, having not moved far enough away from the scene to escape it.

    With his vision still shaking, Ashamin hastily tried to work through the hurt. Whatever hold he'd had on the mare with his magic was lost, but even through this disorientation he knew better than to try and move or aim with her image so constantly shifting and his leg in such intense pain. As much of a shot in the dark as using his magic again would be, as against his intention as it was, he had to try. He couldn't think clearly enough to stop this entirely, to tell her it was ok, that he was sorry, that this was a mistake, that he didn't want to hurt her anymore.

    All that the seer could do was lash out in turn, and throw his magic blindly in what he hoped was her direction. If he succeeded then lady luck would be on his side; if he succeeded, then perhaps her heart would slow so that it would force her to not only lose her energy but calm her fearful attack and stop her from screaming again.

    Ashamin didn't know if it was really her scream that was causing all this; under all the pressure of the pain radiating in his leg, skull, and bond, Ashamin didn't know very much at all. He knew though that he wanted the mare to be quiet and still. Whatever this war was, it needed to be over.

    ""
    image credits


    WC: 778/800
    PC: 3/3 0/0

    OOC NOTES
    What Worked
  • Prose: Beautiful. Just, wow. Every post impresses me more, the way you write Auriel and just your style of writing in general is so beautiful that I feel sucked into your words. The poetry of them makes me feel all warm and gooey and hnnng.
  • Environment: You were very good at noting how the surroundings marked and messed up Auriel, and it reflects her shifting emotions, too.
  • Emotion/Magic: The way that you played her emotions into her magic and combined that to make an attack was amazing. It's completely instinctual and reflexive and as a result felt incredibly natural to read and respond to. Especially given that she is an inexperienced fighter and confronted with unfamiliar/incredible pain, her response to scream (a desperate but powerful move given her magic) was a really smart way to end this. She hit her breaking point and it really shows.

    What Needs Work
    To be honest, there isn't much. You've fixed all the things I mentioned before, so I'll be nitpicky.
  • Item Details: What did it feel like when her horns struck his armor? Has she felt armor before, did it change how she expected it to hit? These are all things to consider when interacting with both your own and other people's items.
  • Magic Wording: I know this wasn't your intention, but the way you worded your magic made it seem as if it pushed away Ashamin's somehow or turned his off. This wasn't like "oh gosh I have no clue what is happening" but it was just a possible way to read it. Obviously Ashamin's magic was going to fade eventually, but having it be the same moment when her magic started could have caused an association. Again, nit-picking.
  • Tense: You switched to present for a brief little bit, when she was talking about her family's thoughts on her and whether or not she matters. It was small but it's something you have to be sure to keep consistent, since in spars you're being judged on even the smallest of grammar mistakes.

    WHOO! Great spar! :)


    RE: Pick Up Your Feet [Ashamin v. Auriel] - Auriel - 03-20-2016

    it was said that the blood of the stars
    flowed in her veins
    Our pitches melded together, two cries of agony in different keys, singing the same tragic, grieving tune. My own wail ended in a gasp for air, then a pitiful sob. My voice died into the day, leaving me with an insufferable silence.

    Clouds of smoke blurred my vision, fading to the bright sheen of the melting snow on the ground. My breath came in rapid, heaving gulps, desperate for air, for reality. I tucked my wings close to my body, closed my eyes, trying desperately to calm the storm still lingering within me. My heart reverberated in my chest, and I was helpless to quiet it's turmoil.

    The silence I experienced was ephemeral, gone as I struggled to my feet, casting a hard glare at Sparky as I rose. He still struggled with the effects of my magic, floundering in it's web. I was still unsure of what it did exactly, but I assumed it was painful. Watching him fall slightly wasn't enough for me, though. Watching the pain contort his face wasn't enough, either. In that moment, I wanted him to know the pain he had put me through in a purposeful attack, one that wasn't out of desperation.

    He had dragged my heart through hell and I was more than ready to show him that smoke can burn, too.

    I rose to my full height, shaky on my tired limbs, body glazed with sweat. I took a step closer to the stallion, rage fueling each step. 'You'll pay, you'll pay, you'll pay, you'll pay,' I thought, over and over again, the words lurking in my mind, giving me a predatory demeanor. I spread my wings out, my emotions primal, vengeful as I prepared to strike down upon Sparky once more, but he beat me to the chase.

    His magic lashed out at my chest again, though this time it was different. It seized my heart with a quiet throb, dulling my senses with a contrasting, muted ache. I let out a small gasp, stumbling back from the smaller stallion and his companion, gazing at them with round, pale eyes. I tried not to slip on the slushy ground as I backed away from Sparky, moving slowly away from him. My thirst for revenge had been quieted by the sickening gnaw at my heart, his magic, that familiar swell at my chest. My primal bloodlust was over, for it was a mere flicker I had experienced when blinded by my emotional pain.

    I truly didn't want to keep hurting him. This endless cycle of emotional lashings and heartache would keep going if I did. I watched him with tears welling in my eyes, a throbbing in my chest from the magic he had sent through my chest, and I stopped. All I knew about Sparky was that he wasn't afraid to hurt me, and I didn't want to be hurt anymore.

    So I tucked my wings loosely around my chest, cradling the ache that stung my heart, and waited for his magic to dwindle away, to allow us both to escape, to forget each other's faces.

    Never had I longed so deeply for the solace of pine trees and snowflakes.



    1/1 closing defense
    531/800

    MMm not my best ;-;
    tysm for the teaching spar jen!! I appreciate your input so very much <333

    / image



    RE: Pick Up Your Feet [Ashamin v. Auriel] - Official - 08-04-2016

    By my verdict: ASHAMIN is the winner!

    ASHAMIN
    Realism [3.5]

    Overall I think you did well with realism during this spar! You had to translate the dice rolls into both physical and magical attacks and I found the responses appropriate. Good job incorporating the scene into your posts - with such a difficult terrain it makes sense for Ashamin to be slipping on the ice and stumbling through the mud as much as he was.

    Emotion [2]

    I really liked Ashamin’s emotional rollercoaster throughout this spar! From being so ready for a new fight to being devastated from the effects of Auriel’s magic to just wanting the whole thing to stop, he went through a lot and you did a great job explaining all of it.

    Although I did find the narrative of his emotions towards Auriel inconsistent between the second and third posts. At the bottom of post two this was how it ended: "The haruspex hoped, though, to hurt this mare. He wanted her to writhe in pain, to see her life and her love flash before her eyes. She deserved far worse than that for what she'd done." And at the start of the third post: "Seeing her in such pain, a sort of fuzzy apparition behind the cloud of his own breath in the cold, was not what he wanted." That's a very sudden flip from clearly stating he wanted to see her in a lot of pain and then suddenly claiming he did not want to see that at all.

    Prose [4]

    You have a great grasp on spelling and grammar and it shows throughout your posts! I couldn't find any blatant mistakes.

    Readability [2]
    For the most part, these posts were very easy to read and understand. There were just a few small things that I found a little awkward when I was reading through:

    Post 1, paragraph 5: “As hallucination reigned Ashamin felt the tear as...” This phrase reads awkwardly without an article, I’d suggest it should be “as the hallucination reigned” or maybe even “as hallucinations reigned” if you don’t want to use one. And there should also be a comma after the introductory phrase - so between reigned and Ashamin.

    In the third post, this part about Ashamin releasing his magic “The haruspex turned back to the mare, trying to peel back the fingers of his magic that so tightly gripped his heart,” I found this confusing because it was hard to tell whether you meant to say her heart, because that’s what the magic is actually affecting, or whether you just mean figuratively since he’s feeling guilty about using the magic? I would just be careful about your language in the future, especially in matters of the heart since his magic directly affects it.

    I would also caution against some of the typical "horse rpg language" as it can be confusing and misleading as well - such as referring to Ashamin's hooves as daggers in the first attack post. Since daggers are an actual item that can be held by characters on Helovia, you might mislead your opponent about what he is actually using to strike. Since this spar is old it's difficult to tell whether Ashamin had his haladie at the time, so this is just a note for the future.

    Finally tally: 39.5 + (11.5*2) = 62.5 HP

    *******************************************

    AURIEL
    Realism [1]
    Good job mentioning the surroundings and how they affected Auriel through the battle! The ground being slippery from both ice and mud would be tricky and you did a good job making it difficult for her.  

    Ashamin’s first attack rolled a 6 for damage which is a pretty heavy hit - and since Auriel took it on her wing I would expect a little more damage than a gash. What about the feathers? The delicate bones in the limb? There’s really not too much flesh on wings - it would bleed from a gash but there are other factors that could have been included or talked about. This wound also wasn't mentioned in later posts - even when she was moving her wings around.

    One of the things I noticed was that it was difficult to tell where Auriel was throughout the spar, or what she was doing in the moments not directly related to an attack. Some of the phrasing makes it seem like she’s standing around, like here in your third post: “I looked only at the ground, at my muddied, frosted hooves, a hazy cloud of my breath momentarily obscuring their image in my eyes.” where it sounds like she’s taking some time out to just gaze around instead of watching out for Ashamin.

    Emotion [2.5]

    I think you did a great job describing Auriel's emotional status throughout this thread - with her heart literally being played with you got to explore a little more range than you might normally see in a spar. I especially loved how Auriel was affected by her hallucination magic working on Ashamin! She’s young and inexperienced and I’d expect some hesitation on her part, however much she wanted to prove herself. This is one of my favourite lines: “I wasn't scared of the dark, or fire, hell, I wasn't even scared of losing my family again. But I was scared of myself. I trembled as I watched him, horrified by what I had done.”

    Prose [1]

    Word choice: Some things to watch out for - I noticed that you mixed up the use of ‘its’ and ‘it’s’ a few times in your posts - be sure to remember when you should be using the possessive ‘its’ and when you should be using “it’s” for the contraction of it is! For example, the first paragraph in your second post “my smoke had done it's job” should actually be its.

    Be careful about your word choice when there are words that sound similar when spoken but have different meanings in print. The correct past tense of “thrust” is just “thrust” and be careful not to mix up the verb bear (and its past tense bore) with bare and bared.

    Readability [1]

    For the most part I found your posts fairly easy to understand! There were just a couple spots were there was a word missing or the phrasing was awkward:
    Post 1: “He was similarly to myself, though I was a bit more on the draft side than he.” I think there’s a word missing, should likely be something along the lines of ‘he was built similarly to myself’ or just ‘he was similar to myself’

    “My heart began to race, I could beating hear it in my ears” the second part of this sentence reads awkwardly

    Finally tally: 35 + (5.5*2) = 46 HP