the Rift


Gotta Catch 'em All [Graveyard- Arlo]

Oxy the Addict Posts: 322
Hidden Account atk: 5.5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2hh :: 9 [Tallsun] HP: 73.5 | Buff: DANCE
Unnamed :: Common Boggart :: Mayhem Sevin
#1
I'm gonna be the very best, like no one ever was. To catch them is my real test, to train them is my cause, you sing to yourself as you move through the tall grass. You've been traveling across the land, searching far and wide, and mostly just minding your own business. Suddenly, you lock eyes with someone as you walk by. You're compelled to walk towards them, like there's no way to pause. Characteristic music seems to play in the air around you and your vision rotates black for a second. Without warning, the landscape around you changes from tall grass to hard dirt. The landscape is quite clear, except for an angry looking trainer that is occupying the same arena.

In amusement, you note that you and and the trainer look rather alike. You both wear a read and white hat atop your head, with a pokeball on the front. Around both of your waists you have leather belts. His belt has three pokeballs on it, yours has six. They rattle about as you take a step, causing a mild distraction but otherwise not too in the way. Lastly, something unique to you- on your withers, a large yellow plush doll sits. A pikachu. It's held in place by strings that tie to its feet and then split to travel on either side of your forelimbs and tie under your chest. It's uncomfortable, but over all you like the ensemble better than your hula girl outfit.

Done assessing the landscape and trainer, though warily watching his three Pokemon that he seems ready to sic on you at any moment, you turn your eye to your opponent. If you're Ash Ketchum (and you are) then the stallion you're staring down is Gary Oak- your arch enemy. Your eyes narrow as you stare at pretty boy, your ears falling backwards as much as they can around your hat. You've never hated anyone as much as you hate pretty boy. Something akin to a growl escapes your throat and you paw the ground in agitation, wishing you could just reach back and open one of your pokeballs up. A good scorching from Charmeleon would do pretty boy good. At least this hallucination is better than the one with bone-nose.

Rolling your eyes, your mind immediately settles to business. A menu seems to pop up in your brain and you immediately select 'Fight'. You've got your chance to take pretty boy down and you're not going to let it pass. In the corner, a light flickers as if trying to distract you. For now, you don't let it. Just as the little Froakie lunges at you, you lunge forward. Before you took off, you were about three steps from pretty boy, facing him head on. If he hasn't moved, you'll close those three steps now. Lowering your head to hold your horns in a somewhat defensive manner, you run until you judge you are nearly upon him. On your last step, you bunch your muscles as if to jump and purposefully try to careen yourself into Arlo. If he hasn't moved, you'll crash head first into him, so at the last moment you throw your head to the right. Picking your knees up neatly, with the intention of battering and bruising the stallion, you wait to feel any sort of impact.

If he hasn't moved and you hit your mark well, you should then be in place to try and reach down to bite. Opening your mouth wide, you reach out towards his shoulder and try to clamp down on fur, skin or any combination thereof. If he thrashes about, you may even be able to scrape him a little with your horns. You can only hope. Behind you, you hear the scuffling of the three Pokemon whose training you interrupted. They seem to be getting closer. Underestimating them already, you choose to ignore them in favor of keeping your mind on pretty boy. After all, you picked 'Fight'. Will he do the same, or would he rather select 'Run'?

WC- 678
Post- 1/3
@[Arlo]

Arlo Posts: 60
Hidden Account atk: 3.5 | def: 8 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 16hh :: 6 HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
Stephy
#2
a r l o

W e decided it was time, time again to go searching for a fight, our bloodlust was yet again surging through our veins. We could only hope our next opponent was more worthy than the other, who ran from the battlefield like a little girl as soon as it turned nasty. We decided to move further afield, away from the simple clearing that was the setting for our first attempt at bloodspill. We pushed on forwards, dressed in a tight black costume that covered us from flanks to neck, with a large hood flung back, and a small scythe tied into our tail, with white out orbs and some red dripping from our maw.

We were so consumed with our bloodrage, that we didn’t notice that we had encroached upon a pokemon battlefield, where an apparently angry trainer now stood. But what was this? We had been beaten to it. Our lip curled in disgust as we recognised who it was. It was that rude git who had threatened us when the other had still been in control. The weakling had simply walked away, but now was the time for our revenge upon this shaggy beast that was still insisting on carrying a man bag. This time, we would take him up on his offer of a fight and this time it would be his blood spilled on this strange looking floor. He, along with Skywalker were my nemeses, it was a shame really, we could be a force so strong together, warriors united. But the other had gotten in the way which had made sure that their, and our back was up whenever we crossed paths.

We barely placed a hoof on the well groomed terrain when the bastard flung himself forwards, ignoring all proper sportsmanlike behaviour, scarcely giving us a chance to move out of the way. But lets be honest, its not like we would have done anything different. For a large brute, he moved quickly and barrelled right into us, chest to chest taking the wind right out of our sails. As he primed himself for a second battering, we quickly shifted myself off to the left, so that his knees only just grazed against me, serving only to push us slightly off balance.

We flicked my harks as we heard slight scuffle behind us, and before we knew what was going on, a vine whipped itself out of nowhere and wrapped itself around our right hind, pulling us to the ground. We screeched in anger, as we flailed to escape the tendrils, leaving us slightly grazed down on our right hand side. Our blood was boiling as we finally dragged ourselves to our feet and turned to face our second foe. We went to lunge ourselves at the pokemon, ivories knashing. “What on earth do you think you are doing? We could crush you into tiny pieces..” We hissed in a serpent like manner. However, we realised that our vengeance against Oxy was more important. “But you aren’t worth it, now scram, before we decide you are..” With that, we turned our rage back to the appropriate outlet and primed to retaliate, wincing slightly as our graze stung slightly.

Knowing that we were lighter, smaller and therefore faster than the heavyset brute in front of us, we flung ourselves forward, harks pinned and ivories bared, as we closed the gap between the two of us, we launched ourselves from our haunches and attempted to tear at his flanks with our teeth. If all else failed, we span ourselves around, and bucked, striking out with our hind legs, attempting to knock him completely off balance.

At this point, our bloodlust was screaming, causing our head to pound and our heart to race, white out orbs blazing. Rage was consuming our entire being, this bastard was going down. We screeched in glee, finally, this was the catharsis we needed..

[[638 words, 1/3]]

" "
Fugue
638 words.
@[Oxy]

&CROWS WILL FLEE THE SCENE,
AS IF TO REMIND ME
HOW LONG ITS BEEN SINCE I'VE SEEN A DOVE.


Oxy the Addict Posts: 322
Hidden Account atk: 5.5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2hh :: 9 [Tallsun] HP: 73.5 | Buff: DANCE
Unnamed :: Common Boggart :: Mayhem Sevin
#3
The idiot forgot to move, you laugh as you crash heavily into him. To be honest, you weren't expecting to hit him so hard. You're thrown a little off balance and your knees miss as he slides to his left. You're thankful for the solid ground of the stadium though, and the good purchase it offers, as you're able to land solidly back on the ground. On top of you, the pikachu wobbles about and you're left wondering why the plush doesn't lend some electricity to the fight. At first you didn't really like all this strange hallucinating but you could get use to it. Even if your fight against bone-nose was an utter failure, it's never bad to get some practice in.

While you're gathering your balance, Gary is busy getting molested by the Chespin. Now that you have half a moment to take a good look, you're left wondering if he actually is Gary. He's wearing some strange spandex and the sickeningly white glow of his eyes is certainly nothing you've seen on Pokemon before. Oh well. The damn fool is falling to the ground and you're not going to waste any moments pondering his stylistic choices. Once you get a solid grip on the earth, you lift your forehand up and thrust your massive hooves downwards. You try to aim them towards his left ribcage. The sound of breaking bones would be music to your hat-covered ears. If it's the last thing you do, you're going to make pretty boy bleed.

While you're in the process of trying to batter pretty boy senseless, the Froakie has finally managed to catch you. You barely catch sight of the bubbles before they contact your skin. Huh? He's going to wet me to dea- HOLY FUCK! An immediate and undeniable sensation of pain shoots up your leg. Immediately, you abandon your quest to pummel pretty boy while hoping you managed to get a couple good hits in. Instead, you focus your attention on the frog. Your left hind limb throbs uselessly but that doesn't mean your right one is broken. You kick roughly towards the thing and hope that a solid kick, or at least a good imitation of one, will force the trainer to withdraw the creature back into its spherical home. A brutish snort escapes your lips at about the same time- an auditory reminder that you're pissed.

While you've been trying to assault a defenseless frog, Gary has been yelling at his assailant. As you manage to focus your attention again, the sensation of pain still lingering in your right hind, he's jumping towards you. How cute, you think to yourself, commenting on the fact that he likes you so much that he's copying you. Gods you hate him. Bunching your muscles in preparation, you let him reach towards your flank. A few teeth marks are a small price to pay for what you're about to try. His teeth contact your skin and you grit in determination as you throw your massive body to the left. Above you, the pikachu wobbles again in protest of the jostling. With any luck, your shoulder will meet Gary's flank or hip.

Once pretty boy releases his grip on you, you really start to feel the pain you hadn't noticed at first. It's not bad, a minor distraction, but more prominent now that the lingering pain from the bubble attack has faded. There's no time to worry about it, however. You need to deal with pretty boy's flying hooves. His smaller frame manages to turn and kick before you can even get yourself rotated all the way. Your side is left as an open target and Gary's hooves hit solid. Beneath your skin, capillaries rupture and blood leaks out. You're bruising. A grunt of frustration (and anger that you let pretty boy hit you) escapes your lips and you manage to force your big body into motion. You're going to get him if it's the last thing you do.

Chasing after the brutish stallion, you endeavor to close the distance between yourself and his bodacious, spandex-covered ass. If there's one thing you've learned in your years of fighting, it's that the closer you are to the hooves before they're bucking the less damage they can do. It makes sense, after all. The more time your muscles have to convert their pent up energy into motion, the harder you can slam into your target. Attempting to come up directly behind the stallion before he has time to kick again, you lower your head and seek to scrape your horns across his skin towards his head. If you can herd him to the dark corner with the flickering light maybe you can use the darkness to your advantage.

WC- 796
Post- 2/3
@[Arlo]

Arlo Posts: 60
Hidden Account atk: 3.5 | def: 8 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 16hh :: 6 HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
Stephy
#4
a r l o

S creaming out in anger as we flailed around on the floor, the vine cutting off the blood supply to our pastern. To add insult to injury, the beast before us forgot all honour and decided to use it to his advantage, advancing upon us, hooves thrashing, clearly intent on crunching few ribs into powder. We couldn’t help but feel some connection to this stag, for he was behaving just as we would, with the same look upon his maw, one of pure bliss at the idea of smashing a few bones. It was a shame that we were already sworn enemies, for we could have made a good team. I writhed out the way as his hooves cut through the air, refusing to wince as one sliced a thin cut across the body fat that insulated our belly, cursing as few precious drops of life blood stained the dirt covered floor. Sure we wanted blood spilled, but we would have rather it to be his than ours, for obvious reasons.

We let out a loud menacing giggle, high pitched and manic as he was attacked from behind by the water demon, which distracted him enough to allow as to level the playing field once again. Not one to dwell on failures, we thrust ourselves back onto our feet and threw ourselves back into the battle with a renewed sense of determination to show this shaggy beast who was boss. It was time to make him spill some of his very life force. A smirk remained twisted across my maw as we watched him try to kick at the frog that had attacked him, for it looked pretty amusing, a massive equine pausing a life or death fight to attempt to swat at a frog. We could only hope his attempt missed, if only to make him look stupid. The egg would really be on his face then.

As we launched ourselves towards him, we blinked in slight confusion as he didn’t even attempt to swerve us. We primed ourselves as much as we could as we flew through the air at him, not knowing what he had planned. We noted with some satisfaction as our teeth sank into muscle, the taste of rust upon our lips. We cried out in glee, as we finally got a taste of what we had been craving for so long. We clamped down hard before letting go, watching in delight as blood dripped from him. We shook our head so that droplets of rust flew through the air and oozed from our maw, with a manic look in our orbs.

As if from nowhere, we were shunted off to the left as he threw his weight at us, slamming easily into our flank, only serving to throw us slightly off balance and to knock the breath out of us for a second. As quickly as it had happened, our focus returned and we were primed for our next move. Our eyes danced as our hooves slit into his belly and again, we managed to draw blood from him.

He advances towards us, attempting to drive us backwards whilst scraping is with horn simultaneously. But alas, we would not be herded or shown were to go. We danced nimbly away from his horn and face him head on. We stood our ground as he brought himself forward and as he reached optimal distance, we brought ourselves onto our hind legs and attempted to bring them down upon his dial or to at least strike his face, attempting to render him unconscious or at least unfocused for our next attack.

We moved ourselves closer, taking the risk that he fling is dial forward and rip at our flesh, for we were within easy striking distance. We bared our ivories, which were snapping at his cranium and neck, harks pinned, and we whipped our right foreleg first and then the left, upwards with a sharp, quick gesture attempting to slice deep into his chest, before backing up as quickly as we could to remove ourselves as far as possible. Dancing round him, deciding on what our next move should be, for we now had the taste of life rust on our lips, and we were in this till death..

[[711 words, 2/3,I took damage cause it seemed more realistic!]]

" "
Fugue
700 words.
@[Oxy]

&CROWS WILL FLEE THE SCENE,
AS IF TO REMIND ME
HOW LONG ITS BEEN SINCE I'VE SEEN A DOVE.


Oxy the Addict Posts: 322
Hidden Account atk: 5.5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2hh :: 9 [Tallsun] HP: 73.5 | Buff: DANCE
Unnamed :: Common Boggart :: Mayhem Sevin
#5
Blood. You see it- or rather you saw it- on the floor. It was there, dripping from his belly. But then the damnable frog... you didn't even get to enjoy the sight of the crimson fluid staining the dirt below. To make matters worse, pretty boy starts laughing at you. For all your flailing, you never manage to make contact with the rubbery skin of the Pokemon. Yet somehow, despite the fact that his fat ass fell right down onto the dirt, pretty boy is laughing at you!? You can't believe and it makes your blood boil with rage that you cannot quantify. You join his stupid herd despite your better judgment, he mocks you in front of glass-horn and her lesbian lover and now he's laughing at you!? In this very moment your only goal is to end pretty boy's life and save him from his miserable existence. It might take you a while, but you'll make it happen.

On your side, your bruise aches and throbs. You wish the pain was as fleeting as the bubble attack had been, but you're not so lucky. With every step you take in chase of pretty boy a new wave of pain ebbs and flows. The pain must be too much of a distraction for before you can tear into pretty boy's skin he dances away from you. For once in your life you curse your massive frame. If only you were skinnier, faster... this hallucination is the strangest thing. Everything about your setting from the flickering light overhead, to the Pokemon trainer who has scuttled off somewhere, to the belt of Pokeballs that are jingling around your waist is a far cry from reality. Why is it, then, that you could not be leaner, swifter or more forceful in your attacks? Perhaps it is your subconscious trying to tell you something. Before the thought can sink too far into your head, you let it go. Now is not the time to be pondering the great mysteries of life. Pretty boy is on the move.

As your head lifts after the failed attempt to use your horns, you cannot help but catch sight of your opponent. He's rearing and you're moving far too fast. You attempt to skid to a stop or to turn and evade him but your massive weight cannot stop on a dime. Your hooves find purchase on the hard dirt of the arena but no amount of traction can slow you down enough. As his hooves come down, you throw your head to the left in a fit of desperation. They hit your neck and grip at the skin as they fall down. His last two attacks left only bruises and despite the constant flashes of pain there is no blood externally. This time, there is. Your skin rips and you scream out in frustration as the crimson fluid trickles down. Blood, pain and hatred blind you and you lash out even as pretty boy is rearing again.

You lunge forward, causing Arlo's bites to miss you entirely, while reaching your neck up in an attempt to latch onto his hood. It's flashes of memories of your fight with bone-nose that drive your actions. He grabbed onto your coconut bra and then... you can't remember what happened then but it doesn't matter. That's the past. This is the present. You can't tell if you've got the hood in your mouth, the foaming saliva that is billowing from the corners of your mouth makes it impossible to feel; regardless, you pull the hood backwards in an attempt to throw pretty boy off balance just as his hooves come down on your excessively large ass. The battering of hooves leave bruises anew and you grit your teeth against the pain even as you're wincing. One of his hits even manages to shatter a Pokeball you're wearing. The sharp edges of plastic fragments dig into your skin. They'll have to be removed after this is all over, so as not to cause infection.

Releasing your hold on his hood, if you ever had it, you hope that the stallion was unbalanced enough to give you the time you need. You lower your head and throw it up again, trying to rake it against his right rib cage. You want blood, more blood than the meager trickles you saw before, and you want it now. You are not gentle with your horns, thrashing and flailing your head about in throws of passion. You will have your way. You demand it. This is your hallucination, you will have some control. Breathing heavily when your flailing is complete, you try to back away from pretty boy, arching your neck and bunching your muscles, preparing yourself for the retaliation you're sure will come.

WC| 799
Post| 3/3
@[Arlo]
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Oxy at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing him.

Please do not tag Oxy unless it is in an opening post

Arlo Posts: 60
Hidden Account atk: 3.5 | def: 8 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 16hh :: 6 HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
Stephy
#6
a r l o

No doubt he felt very much the same as us, the very wish to end his life. But the odds were currently in our favour by the looks of things, given the state of the shaggy beast in front of us. He only served to make us laugh more manically with the look of disgust twisted upon his maw at the very thought that we were in a position to chuckle at his misfortune. We could only imagine our blood would be bubbling over in rage if the roles were reversed and our backside was very firmly being handed to us. There is always a fine line between love and hate, and we could only think of how good a team the two of us could have been if our fated first acquaintance hadn’t been intercepted by the other But we weren’t one to cry over spilt milk, and now we wanted to end him as much as he wanted to end us.

The adrenaline was starting to ebb away, and the pain from his previous attacks, along with the vine burn was starting to take their toll on our vessel. We were throbbing and aching all over, and we could only hope one of our next attacks would be the one to take him out of existence. At least the pain wasn’t affecting us as much it was him, for what should have been a simple tearing of our flesh turned into nothing as I managed to weave out the way of his bared ivories.

We grunted in satisfaction as our hooves missed his head, but at least landed squarely upon his neck with a gratifying thump, and the following stream of rust only served to pump us up and send us on even more of a blood hunt, we were more than ready to finish this fight, with us being victorious. His scream rang in our ears, and it was a piercing conformation of our dominance. We quickly dodge his flailing; thrashing hooves that he was throwing out in what could only be a fit of desperation.

We had gotten a little complacent and barely noticed as he lunged forward and grabbed onto our blasted, stupid costume, but it made no effect on our attempt to batter at his chest, leaving a fresh batch of bruises, again satisfaction came anew as we noted the wince in his orbs, and the gritting of his teeth. During one of our many rounds of battle, we had managed to break some part of his ridiculous costume, which had inadvertently worked in our favour, for some of the plastic was currently protruding from his carcass.

The shiny shards had caught our eye, and exhaustion was starting to take its toll, for again, we didn’t notice as he lowered his dial and attempted to reap it across our rib cage. We threw up our head as it hits it target, and caused a fresh flow of crimson to flow and stain the earth. Screaming in rage, mostly at ourselves, we turned our rump so that it faced the beasts face, and bucked, chucking our legs out as hard as our fatigue would let us. And as one final, last ditched attempt at victory, we span ourselves around, and lunged ourselves at his rib cage, flinging ourselves as hard as we could, attempting to knock him right off his hooves, though we could only imagine that we would follow suit, tumbling right on top of him, as tired as we were..


[[587words, 3/3, I'm so, so sorry this sucked so bad!!]]

" "
Fugue
587 words.
@[Oxy]

&CROWS WILL FLEE THE SCENE,
AS IF TO REMIND ME
HOW LONG ITS BEEN SINCE I'VE SEEN A DOVE.


Oxy the Addict Posts: 322
Hidden Account atk: 5.5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2hh :: 9 [Tallsun] HP: 73.5 | Buff: DANCE
Unnamed :: Common Boggart :: Mayhem Sevin
#7
Your breaths come as large, deep gasps of air. Your body is damp and slick with sweat. The closed space of the stadium is starting to feel stifling, rather than exciting. Somewhere behind you, the flickering of the overhead light makes the shadows dance and play. The effect is eerie, now that you think about it. Your body hurts everywhere. Bruises are on all sides of you, blood is creeping down your neck and plastic is embedded into your skin near your hip. The dirt that is all but a permanent part of your skin mixes with your sweat and turns to mud in some places. You are a physical mess and the chaos in your head is a perfect match. Rage, hatred and pure hate madness are all that make up your head now. He's far from dead now but you're not worried. If not today, it will happen another day. You'll kill him in his sleep like a coward if you need to.

On your opponent's side, and therefore your horns, you see blood. His blood. It pleases you, makes you smile like an idiot and makes you want more. Unfortunately, your body aches for reprieve. You will give no more to this fight, you cannot. Even in your hallucinations it seems you are bound by the laws of physics. Each action takes energy and energy is not endless. You have come to the end of your reserves. As pretty boy spins around, you spring to the left to try and avoid another blow to the chest. It already aches from your initial charge and subsequent hits from your opponent, you don't want it damaged further. Instead, pretty boy's hooves hit solidly on your right shoulder. It is not a good feeling. There is no blood but bruising is no better. There is pain from every part of your body and, despite the fact that you are mindless and violent, you are not a masochist. You find no pleasure in pain of your own. You only wish to inflict it.

As you bound away, you limp on the limb pretty boy has just mauled so effectively. It hurts worse than you thought it did initially. Luckily, your retreat saves you from the stallion's second blow. He lunges past you, no part of him contacting you. You are thankful that at least one thing has gone right this fight. Spinning to face him then, you glare. The look is maniacal- the gaze of a crazed man. Physics and biology say your body is fueled by ATP. Your mind begs to differ and claims you are fueled by all the abhorrence you can manage to muster. Unfortunately, odium does not make muscles move. You stand rooted to the ground, staring, breathing, sweating, aching and wishing; but wishing does not help either and in the end you simply sigh at your utter failure. With a final shake of your head, you move towards the door that pretty boy came in through. Perhaps it will take you out of this illusion and back to reality. As you leave, you begin to wonder if its pretty boy you hate or if you really just hate yourself.

WC- 533
Post- Closing Defense
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Oxy at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing him.

Please do not tag Oxy unless it is in an opening post

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#8
By my verdict: ARLO is the winner!

No VP is awarded

OXY
Realism [+2]
I really enjoy how good you are about bringing up your injuries in each post, including how they slow you or cause you to limp! You take damage well, but your attack deliveries at times were confusing. Using more specifics to describe what side you are attacking, how you’re facing your opponent (perpendicular, parallel etc) would all help clear up that confusion. Be careful too with attacking too far back in a post - at one point you went to attack Arlo when he was on the ground, but that was an early part, and a quick part, in Arlo’s post and was before he’d begun attacking you, so then he had to backtrack to answer that attack in his next post which kinda throws the timeline. Counter attacking when you are being attacked, especially towards a post’s end, works out better, which you did when Arlo and Oxy got very close with all the rearing and biting near the last posts. Don’t forget you have a very tall horse too, you towered over Arlo and never really used it to your advantage with evasions. You have good scenery description though I liked how often you mentioned and used your costume.


Emotion [+2]
Oxy’s posts always make me laugh and you have creative ways of motivating him! However I feel it’s still just a surface emotion and I don’t get deep enough to really feel connected with Oxy. In the very end I did get that a lot more with your last post and how he’s considering if his hallucinations are a reflection about how much he hates himself, but sadly I can only count realism in your last post!


Prose [+3]
Overall your posts flow and are written clearly and correctly, although your style can be hard to adjust to at first with constantly referring to ‘you’, and I did find one typo.


Readability [+2]
Easy to read for the most part aside from some confusions with the attacks and such.


Finally tally: 8.5+9= 17.5 HP

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

ARLO
Realism [+1]
I think you have good potential to become a great fighter because you have the general concepts of the fighting as far as flow, timing, the amount and location of injuries to take and etc. However at times you would forget to respond to your opponent’s attack (even if it misses entirely you need to mention it!), such as Oxy’s biting in the first post and his grabbing of your hood to throw you off balance in the third post (you mention him grabbing it but no mention of your balance). You also sometimes describe attacks in positions that don’t fit the realism, for instance in your last post you had Arlo buck at Oxy’s head, then spin around and try to ram his rib cage. If you spun around you’d just be facing Oxy’s head again, so you’d need to describe better how you go around Oxy to get to his side. Similarly rearing up to hit the face of a horse much taller than you isn’t very plausible, especially a unicorn which can be a deadly choice. Realism is really all about the wording. Taking the time to paint the clearest picture possible for the judge and your opponent can make a big difference in how it’s all perceived.


Emotion [+1]
I liked you constantly bringing up Arlo’s desire to kill Oxy, but I wanted to see a bit more emotion, as I never felt like I was really in Arlo’s mind, seeing and feeling what he was. You describe his pain and his desires, but I never felt that agony, that urge. Why does he want to kill Oxy so much? How does being injured make him hate Oxy more?


Prose [+3]
This was definitely a new style to get accustomed to with always referring to ‘we’, but your writing was all still very good and you had some great quotes at times. I did see you use ‘myself’ instead of ‘ourself’ once.


Readability [+2]
Pretty easy to read all throughout except for some confusions with the attacks and defenses at times.


Finally tally: 24+7= 31 HP


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