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11-22-2015, 08:05 AM
EREBOS
The light of his fire blinded him for a moment. It stretched beyond the pools of darkness and the thunderstorm, penetrating the shrouds and veils with a vigilant, burning flare – he only had snippets to be proud, to be satisfied he’d managed to hit the other beast. But the illumination also dipped into the curves, holes, and sockets of the bear skull, and haunted the dips and pits of the monster. He was still being hunted. It hadn’t been enough. Was he going to die here? Was he going to fall apart within the arms of a maze, amidst the fierce, ferocious tempest, lost, desolate, and massacred? The panic drove through his chest all over again; his heart beat in violent, hazardous crescendos, wild and savage, belligerent and frightened. The prince, impaired by the shadows, by apprehension, failed to notice another join their fray. He didn’t see the eerie, ghostly fixtures glinting in the Stygian abyss. He didn’t witness the murky shroud he ran straight into. The scion’s vision blurred and his breaths coiled into rapid, contorted measures. His mind swam, his membrane sputtered, and he was left with nothing but strange, contorting thoughts. His movements slowed, jaw slackened, and gaze touched over shadows and lightning, everything conspiring against him. Where was he? What was going on? Why did his blood boil and why did his heart seize and why was he so ensnared, enticed, into brutality? Then a shock bristled across his right hind, piercing and harsh, unrelenting and disastrous – a stinging cacophony, discordant and vigilant, hide sizzling and more hair falling away. Was it from the lightning? The monster? Had he been tarnished again? He wanted to weep, wanted to cry, wanted to fall upon his knees and beg for forgiveness for all the stupid things he’d done. Bludgeoned by the haze, by the pain mauling his shoulders and hind, he moved slowly, listlessly, trembling in the wake of terror he’d caused, he’d started. While the boy, cloaked and choked in mist, stared into oblivion, mind racing and panic searing, the sable kitsune took matters into his own claws. Frustrated, fangs clenching, he screamed through their connection, through their bond, Snap out of it! Fight! Fight!, and when the idiot failed to respond – he unleashed his own accord. The other companion, nestled amongst the underbrush, beneath the wild mist and the noxious fumes, had to be destroyed. He stalked the bushes and the long grass, tangling his way through the woods, until his gilded stare took in the pale stature of the fawn’s eyes. Orsino, twisted, distorted, and sinister, attempted to make no sound, silent and deadly, and leapt, intending to tumble into the deer’s right side, bite, gnaw, scratch, annihilate. Moments thereafter, Erebos’ mind returned, lifted away from the cloud, from the fog, and the anger came with it. Raw and real, vicious and hazardous, it curled over the trepidation and dread, because all he wanted to do was survive, all he wanted to do was live, and this creature was in his way. He had too many things to do, too many plots to unravel, too many disasters to cause, to simply wither and decay here. The prince lunged back into the folds of darkness, searching and conspiring, trying to find the edges of frames and figures; and there, illuminated again by only a brief spark of lightning, did he see the caustic beast. His shoulders ached and his movements were sedate, every inch of him screamed and rippled through agony, but the avaricious gleam within his skull kept him moving. Too greedy, insatiable, the fiend drove deeper into the labyrinth – mind ablaze, body on fire. He maneuvered amidst the brush and the thicket and this ridiculous, absurd maze, to fell the Minotaur. With one last stroke of nefarious intentions, the lad attempted to rush towards the fiend’s left side, brandishing his sword, his cutlass, his rapier, and tried to lacerate the other’s barrel. Pain for pain, he thought, and somewhere in between the chaos and destruction, Orsino cackled. [3/3 + 0/1 defense. 673 words. Unaware of Lochan’s arrival, Erebos wanders straight into his dark mist attack. Disoriented and confused, he has no way of blocking Ashamin’s attack and feels the sting of his tesla coil across his right hind. Pelt falls away and leaves a sizzling wound. Orsino attempts to find Lochan and tackle his right side, intending to bite and claw the other companion. Released from the control of the dark mist magic, Erebos stalks Ashamin again. In pain, slow, and lumbering, he attempts to reach Ashamin’s left side and stab his barrel with his horn.] |
@Ashamin
What Went Well:
* Attack Simplifying: Thank you! The timing felt so much better, it was easier to understand, and didn’t seem overwhelming or overdone.
* Damage Taking: I thought this was very on point with what the dice had rolled. It’s always trick to figure out how much to take and how much it should affect your character – you seemed spot-on to me.
* Your post overall was easy to understand. Its smooth, didn’t have any typos, and very clear. We know the judges need clarity in our posts, and I think you’ve done quite well with that. J
To Work On:
* Directions: Don’t forget them! I know we get caught up in the attacks and presume everyone knows where everyone is – but things change quickly, and reiterating your directions is never a bad thing.
Here: As Ashamin ran off he whipped his coil-covered tail above Lochan and towards the stranger, hoping to strike the shadow's likely rain-soaked hide with a flash of electricity. I would have mentioned that you were still going for Erebos’ right, just to make your post all the more clearer. While things are always open for interpretation, it’s always best to give an explicit orientation of where your character is, what they’re doing, and what they’re hoping to do.
* Emotion: It still felt flat to me, and I’m not entirely sure why. It almost has a telling portion to it, rather than showing. You have words to play with. Don’t be afraid.
A couple places, such as Ashamin did not smile or snort with success; his face was set with seriousness, down-turned and steady. This was a fight for defense, nothing more. What was there to take pleasure in when every moment that this stranger delayed him Lochan was lost and calling for him?
Ashamin's large ears turned away, and he let his focus slip. That sound, yes... Lochan really was calling for him. He wasn't imagining that, was he? really could have showed emotion instead of just telling us his focus slipped, or he couldn’t take pleasure from the fight while Lochan was lost. I want to know how he felt about it – show us his pain and torture from Lochan’s absence with a wounded heart, panic, or however else Ashamin could interpret this loss. A bond is supposed to be strong and binding – shouldn’t the absence of one or the other be overwhelming? Use those moments to fuel him and his ambitions. End the fight to find his companion, etc.
And when Lochan does return, mmph, I waited for the emotion!
The paint had no time to respond to his companion's arrival, but he let the sight of Lochan safe and sound propel him forward. Aww man, give me more!
Like this: How fitting, the haruspex thought, that such power would reveal itself in the shadows of a storm. How strengthened he was by the sight of the mists twirling and spreading with menacing thickness--how glad he was that their pair was together again. I liked this much better. <3 But again, don’t just tell me he was glad. Show me he was glad – his heart could feel full or his mind could feel at peace, etc etc.
