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Call Me, Beep Me [Ashamin/Roux] - Ashamin - 04-28-2016 THE HARUSPEX on his own The sun was oppressive. Ashamin's two companions lagged behind, thick winter coats dripping with sweat as they strolled along the shore looking out towards the Dragon's Throat. If this was the desert island's clime in Frostfall, then they didn't want to come back and visit in any other season. The Clovenheart's long tail dragged across the sand, leaving a thin tail in the hot sand. He cast no long shadows, and the thick beard that was beginning to overtake the lower half of his features was no longer weighted down with frost. It was obvious that on this backdrop of tans and blues, he in all his black and white glory did not belong. Then again, glory was a fast-fading word. That didn't even seem to fit him anymore. And if standing out meant someone was more likely to see and challenge him, then so be it. The last time he'd come even close to this territory he'd been attacked by a phantom in the mist, and only barely managed to drag himself with his injuries, despite winning the fight. He stood now anxious but eager. It was true that he had experienced some cold nights in visiting the Dragon's Throat with Maren, but with Birdsong fast approaching the days were heating up and he was losing his own personal cool. He shifted where he stood, Johnny's soft sheath carrying mriga feeling too thick for the weather. His two companions looked out from his right and left--all bodies stood on the offense, all eyes sought an opponent. Perhaps it really was an addiction, this constant need to fight and win, but Ashamin wasn't willing to entertain the idea. Either he was a hypocrite, seeking knowledge of all but himself, or he was simply too smart to let himself go down a path that would surely bring him nothing but misery. Irritated at even the word--addiction, like a snake poised to bite--cropping up in his mind, Ashamin shook his head and gnashed his teeth, rattling his necklace and amulets. He slapped his spark-tipped tail onto the sand, startling Rakt and sparking the fight in the little eye. "Come to me, let us interrupt this heat with a spar!" Ashamin called to the empty blue sky, the odd silence of the distant waves. Would someone come soon and relieve him? "" AP: x/3, 0/1 WC: 388/800 Setting: An unseasonably warm noon (not too warm if you're used to it, which Ashamin isn't) across from the Dragon's Throat Island. Clear skies, calm seas. Notes: Open to all! I am happy to offer teaching notes if you would like, just say so in the bottom of your post. Please feel free to attack first, just post the stats for our characters if you do so. RE: Call Me, Beep Me [Ashamin/Roux] - Roux - 05-03-2016
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@Ashamin AP: 1/3, 0/1 WC: 708/800 Setting: An unseasonably warm noon across from the Dragon's Throat Island. Clear skies, calm seas. Notes: I would love teaching points! Roux answers Ashamin's call by lunging towards him, excitement taking over as he ignores Edison's tips and just hopes that his horn strikes any member of the trio. He's super inexperienced, as am I. So this will be a shit show and a half. RE: Call Me, Beep Me [Ashamin/Roux] - Ashamin - 05-24-2016 [quote='Ashamin' pid='177551' dateline='1461887101'] THE HARUSPEX on his own The haruspex let out a heady snort in response to his companions' warnings of company. The stallion who arrived was younger but larger--not someone Ashamin felt like taking seriously then. Call it a hot streak, call it hubris, or call it the need to drown out his sins, but Ashamin was beginning to think he couldn't lose. When the other stallion answered his call Ashamin didn't deign to reply with more than a nod. Names might come later with the licking of wounds, or maybe he would just fade into the moist heat of the shore and disappear. Maybe Ashamin could live life as a passing monster. Skilled or not, Ashamin was unprepared. He didn't expect such wild energy to come from the stranger; it was almost eerily similar to his own. He remembered how he had fought with Torleik, ignoring all signs that the braided beast was stronger than Ashamin had been. The same recklessness was painted in every straining muscle, every heaving breath of this challenger's approach. The haruspex had ample time to move but took too much of it analyzing his opponents build--noting the bay's slower speed. Ashamin knew his own strengths and being able to move quickly, turn well, and last long were all things he suspected he had on this stag. So why wouldn't he move? Was it because his companions both did, fleeing in opposite directions (Rakt to the left, Lochan to the right) and tricking Ashamin into thinking that he was running with them? Or was it subconscious want for hurt, memory of how deeply he'd been scarred when he'd stood still and taken Torleik's gouging attack? As if remembering, his hindquarters and the gold scars left from the Bloodskald shivered with fresh aches. He hadn't moved then, why wouldn't he move now? Ashamin watched with cold eyes as his enemy's lighter ones drew closer. They looked so empty, so void of senses, but the haruspex was not mentally quick enough then to figure out why. That was a realization that would come later. After all, how was he supposed to suspect that a blind stallion would charge at him with such boldness? The sound of wings fluttering overhead caught the haruspex off-guard and he looked up to see the bird. Lochan cast a dark image in his mind, the shadow of the oncoming attacker, and the confusing shock of both that and the sudden appearance of the bird caused the haruspex to rear and turn, facing partially away from the stranger and exposing the right side of his hindquarters. When the injury came, sliding through the flesh of his croup like an unclean knife, Ashamin didn't cry out. This was the sort of pain that he deserved. As the skin tore and the blood burst, sending out with it harmless sparks that hovered around the new wound and tried to heal, it was his two companions that shivered and shook. Was he channeling his pain through the bond, using them as shields? Maybe, but who knew if that was even possible. Maybe Lochan and Rakt felt the pain on a deeper level because Ashamin refused to. Could it be possible that the Clovenheart could disassociate from hurt so intensely that his body was blocked off from it, frozen in a state of shock? True, his hind quaked and his back legs threatened to buckle even as his forelegs landed and he tried to pull himself away from the dagger in his flesh--to twist his body further to the right and put himself parallel to the enemy, facing the opposite direction--but did he really feel it? Did he really know what it was to be innocently hurt, or was every injury tainted by the memory of one that had come before it? This was bad, but couldn't he compare it to almost dying in the secret grove in the wake of his battle with Torleik, or the claw of the Bear God hooked just beside his jugular? There were times that the Clovenheart had almost seen the light of his life fade, but this wasn't even a flicker. A dripping, ghoulish splatter of red to be sure, but in the end it was only a blip. His teeth smashed down, narrowly missing his silent tongue, and when he turned to look at the upstart that had wounded him his eyes were wicked. The fang on his necklace glowed for a moment before expanding, and the mask that he summoned covered his features like a hideous scar. He sent out his magic like an arrow from a bow, devastatingly aimed and with vicious intent, and hoped to speed the boy's heart til it burst. Sweat and blood covered his hide, anger painted his features. What a fool that had run blindly into this fight. "" AP: 1/3, 0/1 WC: 800/800 Note: Apologies for my lateness! Finals and moving hit me hard. I'll be much quicker from here on out. Teaching notes So there isn't quite so much battle wise to talk about because this is the very first one, but here goes! + Companion Relationship: Not only did I get a sense of them individually, but I got one of them together. They had good back and forth and good physical interaction as well. Talking about the sensation of Edison's claws is smart, because a blind horse isn't going to be seeing his companion and he'll be using other senses. + Poesy: Your writing was beautiful! Seriously, downright poetic. I love the image of the glass paneling and some of the descriptions that you have. - Clarity: On the above note, make sure the grammar in your sentences is as clear as possible at all times. There were a couple sentences where another word or comma might have helped to clarify what you meant, and you had the room. + Environment: You did a good job of not only describing the environment, but in ways that makes sense for a blind horse (by scent in particular, with the salty air.) - Attack Positioning: This is a perfectly fine attack, but just be sure that wording is as clear as possible. The real problem is position. I have no clue where Roux is in relation to Ashamin so it's hard for me to figure out where I should take the attack, since I can't make it up without forcing Roux into a position you might not want him/have meant for him to be in. I just know that Roux is headed for one of my three but it could really be any of them, and from any direction. Roux located them through Edison so he should be able to know where he is relatively, and that's something you should communicate. Suggestions for next time: RE: Call Me, Beep Me [Ashamin/Roux] - Roux - 05-27-2016
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@Ashamin Thank you so much for all the feedback <3 e.e this was 927 words before I edited it -cries in mourning for dead words- AP: 2/3, 0/1 WC: 868/800 Setting: An unseasonably warm noon across from the Dragon's Throat Island. Clear skies, calm seas. Notes: Strains his left fore as he galloped through the sand at Ashamin, has a throbbing headache from his collision. Goes into a state of tachycardia and mild hypoperfusion with Ashamin's magic, this also affects Edison as he is attacked Rakt. This affects Roux's balance and mental state as well, these effects remain in a much milder form when the magic wears off, he also bit his tongue pretty severely in the fit. Blood is staining his teeth as he unleashes his own magic on Ashamin and lunges forward in an attempt to bite him blindly. Ashamin's lack of movement or sound is throwing his directions off a bit. RE: Call Me, Beep Me [Ashamin/Roux] - Ashamin - 06-08-2016 THE HARUSPEX on his own Later, when they were all resting in the shade of some unfamiliar copse of trees, Ashamin's first companion would call it trauma. Lochan would paint the word for his bonded in deep and impenetrable blacks while Rakt rested with his eyes half open. The younger companion's snort would be followed by a shake, a subtle shift in body language to signal disagreement. Ashamin would pace and contemplate new loneliness--the concept of abandonment. He too would shake his head, turn from the idea. Trauma meant damage. How could he, by then newly wedded to no one but himself, be damaged? What was he to do if he had to enter his new life that way? In the moment, in the heat of the battle and raging sun, Ashamin took damage to be strength. The bird--now obviously revealed to be a companion as he staged an attack--was not quick enough to catch Ashamin's red cerndyr companion. Rakt leapt back and shook his antlered crown defensively, continuing to back away even when the bird headed instead for a nearby tree. Ashamin's opponent moved away from him too, gasping horribly as his heart convulsed; the Clovenheart watched with grim satisfaction. He ground his against each other as he staggered from the other buck's pearly horn. His head dropped down swiftly to tuck between his forelegs, but he still felt the burn of success. Blood ran freely from the gash along Ashamin's croup, following the path of his right hip and warming the inside of his leg on the same side. The pain would last and the wound would slow him down, but he wasn't going to give up. The painted stag flashed his gaze and then his head up as he heard his opponent's hooves kicking up the sand again. This time he had enough sense to dodge and fight back with his body, slowed as it might already be by injury. The paint stallion took a few more forceful steps forward, hoping to put himself on the enemy's left side and facing away, just as he'd tried to do before. One of the amulets around his neck was tugged back behind him and slowed his movement forward, however. The set gem was quick enough to catch something that Ashamin had missed: magic. It glowed and hummed something hollow before thudding dully against his chest, leaving a cold spot of shadow that the light of his marking could not pass through. Whatever power the bay stallion held was now something the Clovenheart possessed, if only for a time. But he would have to discover its effects later, for once the amulet settled back against his chest Ashamin pressed onward. His hooves sank in the sand and his wounded croup sagged so that his back sloped downwards, and his hind legs were forced to bunch. The lowering of his back half did him some good, though, and positioned him beneath the snapping teeth of the mad beast that had charged him. Given half a second to reflect, Ashamin might have paid closer attention to his opponent's erratic movements and total lack of experience. Maybe, just maybe, he would have attributed it to some cause or weakness rather than attacking without the slightest shred of empathy. The Clovenheart was not, however, given any time at all. And so when he struck it was without mercy or shame but only with the most of his power and the height of his cruelty. With the mask still surrounding his features he twisted his neck back and to the left, his jaws parting and snapping hopefully somewhere between the young bay's withers and crest. Behind him, Lochan and Rakt operated together; the former darted for the tree where the bird had flown to rest and cast dark mists towards it, hoping to confuse the already compromised red kite so that he might fall from the tree that Rakt butted fiercely with his horns. Eight sharp hooves awaited the bird should it be grounded, ready to stomp and trample. In any other context they might have been bullies, but this was a fight and the kite had made the mistake of trying to harm the younger cerndyr; for that, he would be targeted. What did "spar" mean to the Clovenheart anymore? He was under the heat of a sun that nearly belonged to the Dragon's Throat and far from his home--far from those who might have urged him to exercise restraint. Here--in the unfamiliar wild where the sand was caught in his hooves and Birdsong sweat mixed readily with blood, where his companions' thick coats stuck out like thorned paws--Ashamin was not operating within the same set of rules he'd been previously assigned. Out here, Ashamin was anonymous. He was just another passing stranger with a very nasty bite. "" AP: 2/3, 0/1 WC: 800/800 Note: Ashamin captures Roux's magic in his moon amulet, but does not use it. Ashamin's mask grants the wearer the jaw strength of a bear (1200 psi) with the bite's increased strength lasting for 5 seconds (see profile for more details.) Teaching notes -Wordcount: Whoops! Opposite advice to give you here. As hard as it can be it's IMPERATIVE that you're 800 or under. Take a look at the rubric. You lose 10 hp just for going over the wordcount once! Penalties won't be applied until the end, but if the fight were to end now you'd have over the 20 HP gap and lose right away. I know how hard it is to cut things down but a penalty as big as 10 HP can decide a fight. +Senses: Great job! I really felt Roux sensing his surroundings more in this post, particularly with touch and smell. Overall the post had a much more "real" feel because of how you described the sensations. +Kickback: Yes! This is my favorite thing to see. When Roux feels his head hurt when he collides with Ashamin that is both a creative way to take some damage and a realistic way to play out the fight, since the attacker does feel the impact of any hit. +Item Descriptions: I'm thinking that the metallic whirring was Ashamin's mask--if it was not, then my critique changes to "what was that?" Anyway, be sure that when you describe an item you are describing it accurately. Metallic whirring isn't really a sound I'd use to describe the mask, since it's really all just crystal, bone, and enchantment. -Damage: I think most of the damage you took made sense, but I would caution you to not take more than you need to. A 5 is high but it isn't a 6, so you probably could have been fine without the pain in Roux's hock (which sort of came from nowhere anyhow--and which hock? Be specific.) Remember that the pain on Roux's brow is included, as well as the pain felt by Edison. You did a good job of looking into the actual effects of tachycardia and you're right, it is serious, but that combined with your other things felt more like a 6 damage than a 5 in some places. Suggestions for next time: RE: Call Me, Beep Me [Ashamin/Roux] - Bunnie - 07-26-2016 20 HP gap exceeded. Fight defaults to Ashamin. +1 VP for 2 post default and +2 exp for teaching to Ashamin. |