| Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB |
| Heather |
Fighting a fellow patriot was more difficult than Deimos had surmised. For most of his life, he’d assaulted enemies, adversaries, rivals that bellowed from across shores, that instigated and pledged to maul, that dragged their carcasses across his lands and claimed them as their own. They were much easier to siege against, to pour all of his wrath, loathing and contempt into, to savagely beat into the ground, into the soil, to allow their bones to rest in a final, chilling repose. He couldn’t do that here and now, and it was a strange, foreign responsibility resting on his shoulders, to not brutalize and condemn the creature that longed to drag their teeth across his hide, that swiped their sword along his pelt, that aimed to scorch and inflict his being. He had to remind himself, in the trickling, heady moments of battle, that there were no war drums here, no fuel rankling against his veins, and no inferno blazing in the heat of the skirmish. It was practice, a rehearsal for the future, a trial to ensure that the Thief would not be a lingering, listless, and useless rapier amongst an unraveling crusade. Still, it took all of his composure and calm amidst the calamity to not swing his own cutlass against her sides, to not posture it along her fanciful movements, to not feel the nefarious pulse of his ferocity building, brimming, brewing until there was naught but the brutal, barbaric froth of his hostile grandeur. He clenched his dentals together, felt the tightness of his jaw loom over the impending vexations, and continued onward, the silent teacher, the poised instructor.
She came at him again, no longer draped in refined grace. He’d given her a touch of the battlefield, an evening of the score, but she returned willingly, brandishing her motions amongst the harsh coil of the twilight. When she raised her body, longing to settle another wound amongst the foreboding, gathered lacerations, he found his chance. The menacing monster twisted his frame towards her, grappling in close proximity again, dancing with the devils of pain and torment to find his own niche. While her hooves scraped down along his left knee, ensuing another twist, another burst of pain, he used his left shoulder, aiming to shove his weight into her uplifted structure, to unbalance, to subdue, to topple her into a reign of terrain, grass, gravel and soil (would she break, would she fall, would she find herself immersed with the tundra instead of the sky?). He lowered his neck, in hopes that her teeth, becoming dangerously close to his countenance, would not entrench themselves too deeply into his pelt. He felt them graze the pinnacle of his nape, tufts of hair billowing, a tiny prick of an ache forming amongst the crest; a far more satisfying appeal than the earlier siege along his haunch, still smarting, still cursing. He used the opportunity of their shared closeness, a useful moment where his hind would not have to shirk his movements, and a lowered neckline, to extend his maw, biting and nipping towards her right shoulder and knee.
[521 words. 2/3. 0/1 magic used. As Faelene half-rears towards Deimos, he feels her hooves scrape against his left knee, but uses the chance to undermine her movements by shoving his left shoulder towards her body (hoping that this may force her to become unbalanced, topple, fall over, etc.). Her teeth, despite his lowered neck, still manage to graze the top of his nape. Using his lowered neck, he then tries to bite at her right shoulder and knee.]
|
|
OOC Commentary:
I’ll use the same format as I did before. Here we go:
I still believe you’ve done very well with Faelene’s motivations. She wants knowledge, she wants to get better, and you know your character. Some people still can’t figure theirs out and get lost in the murkiness of their inspirations. I think you’ve done so brilliantly and have managed to master Faelene in a completely different setting from the norm. Faelene is true to form, uses her experiences from prior battles, and wants to apply this opportunity to gain new ground and information. Sounds like a sneaky, clever Thief to me. I also enjoyed the important aspect of noting she didn’t want to purposefully inflict too much pain on Deimos; much like his own struggles, she’s remembering he’s a herd mate, here to help, not to induce too much harm.
There was also the tiny snippet of fear that’s sequestered itself inside her. Don’t be afraid to play on that if something does become intimidating – it only speaks more for your character and their motivations. In a real battle, they have every fight to be afraid.
You also were careful to mention her wound and how it affected her movement. Remember it in future posts as well – you don’t need to tell us the mark was so barbaric that she could barely walk, but make note of it when you can so that the moment, and pain, becomes more real. As time goes on, it will hurt more, movements will become slower, more labored, not as refined, and you’ve done a good job trying to emote that.
As far as attacks go, I like to play on where roleplayers have left their characters wide open. If I were you, I would have used Deimos’s position, behind Faelene’s haunches, to kick him towards the face, chest or shoulder area. In that case, you don’t have to worry about additional defense, and it lines you up for another attack. Regardless, I still thought your attacks were clever, because they forced me to have Deimos take damage in order to attack where you left Faelene open. The next time you attack, I want to challenge you on thinking where I might have left Deimos open. How can you find a way to play on where I’ve left a weakness?
Quickly as he turned, she did the same,getting away from his attempted bite, but turning in the opposite direction. - Even if you say “opposite” direction, I want you to remember to say right or left. I had to go back to my prior post to remember which direction Deimos was coming from, and thereby now knowing yours. Don’t leave it up to me to go wandering back over information I’ve provided you. Each post can be a stand-alone fixture, so make sure you pinpoint exactly what you want to say each and every time.
With lips pulled back, her ears flat to her neck, she half reared, lunging toward him with her front hooves attempting to drive down, toward his left, front knee, while her neck snaked out, trying to reach his cheek or even neck with her teeth. This is just me being nit-picky, but, horses don’t have “back” knees. They only have front knees, so you don’t need to say front. (but yay for including which knee – yes!)
Also beware superfluous information. I’m not sure what Somewhere aware the light kept dimming above them this is supposed to entail. Questions running through my head included: Wasn’t it already dark? Is it getting darker? Am I not supposed to be able to see her coming? But horses can see in the dark..so… Basically, I wasn’t sure what to do with it, so I ignored it.
|
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
