It was a mixed feeling of sorts. First it was not exactly empowering to be a turtle. A heavy, large, round wooden disk rested on the golden’s back, strapped to his barrel. It didn’t come out very far, but it was heavy all the same. Not to mention the strips of swamp grasses wrapped about his legs were uncomfortably slimy. Oh but he couldn’t complain too much as the second part of this costume made that golden son flash with all manner of pride. A ninja. A red cloth tied around his head over his eyes, with small holes for him to see out of. It matched the red sashes running like a x over his back and under his barrel. It was simple, but being a ninja turtle was much better than just being a turtle so the gold would take it, regardless of the heavy shell. Being a ninja outweighed the indignity of being a turtle. What he would rather not take was this cave. From beneath his red mask the gold eyes what little he can see in the cave. While eyes adjusted sharp hearing picked up the most curious noises, drips, and drops, low soft moans like the wind leaving a creature’s lungs for the last, and constant murmuring. They pin back at this, but as his eyes come to he can’t help but flip them forward again. Large crystals the size of even him come jutting from wall in blues, greens, reds, and all other colors. The golden can’t help but admire their beauty as well as those menacingly sharp ends. Shifting the heavy weight of his shell he makes note to avoid those. Along the floor more rising earth, and they too remind him too much of spears. The only none spear tipped space was the path he found himself on, and that wasn’t very comforting considering at his current place it was smooth rock. The path continued slightly down hill, though it seemed to get rougher as it went. A large crystal or two still intruded in its path, and just behind a dark shadow it took off to the right. But wait that shadow moves, and like a knock to the head the gold remembers why he’s here. Slowly the gold tried to creep forward, but hooves on rock will not be silent. Frustrated he could not more with silence the gold picked up the pace, and when at last he felt a roughness under his hooves rolled into a three beat. A very slow three beat. That big wooden shell bounced and bumbled along his back, and slowed the gold. Now even more frustrated those earth eyes, large and wide to catch the faintest light turn on this moving shadow of his opponent and it leapt like wildfire to them. Lowering his twin horned head the gold came at the creature’s right. He saw not bulges at their sides, so they could not fly, but the costume of this creature was tricky to figure out. Still the gold had not time for that anyway. Angered by neither pulling off a ninja move, nor being able to charge in his more usual fashion, the gold would let it out on this poor creature. Over the roar of his heavier breath and inward roaring the fluttering and high chirps row louder. The gold, full into his short charge was too distracted to notice until too late. The lighting in the cave grew darker as the little devils covered some of the crystals in their multitude. The could smell the sweat and breath of creatures here in their cave though. Why go out for supper with delivery guy was already here. Now their number could not be ignored and they swarmed the golden in his ninja turtle get up, blocking his already poor view. A loud call rang from his lips, and hooves tried to skid to a stop, but even with the rougher rock it was impossible. In a sliding run the gold now came, if they had not moved, his opponent’s right side. It was not intentional, but from being out of control that caused his continued attack. One bat at last sinks his fangs in, pain shooting like lightening all along his neck. Fiercely shaking his head he manages to throw the devil thing, but it left for his opponent a sliding turtle horse and wildly swinging horns coming in at their right. Though it was far from his mind, now taken up by bats and darkness, perhaps even out of control he could inflict some damage, or at least push the other off the path. Still, sliding and flailing about was not exactly how he had intended this to go. So much for being a ninja. "Speech" OOC:: Tag:: @[Tandavi] WC:: 796 Attack:: 1/2 Defense 0/1 Setting:: Described by Graveyard Costume:: Thranduil is a mutant ninja turtle! He has a red sash mask, and a large wooden shell strapped to his back. Though it doesn't come out very wide it is rather heavy and cumbersome. He also has red sashes around it and swamp grasses tied to his legs. Injuries:: Bat bite to the neck Summary:: When trying to embody a ninja fails from his loud steps, the gold in frustration charges (as best he can with the heavy shell and rock ground) Tandavi at her right. Things go wrong when the bats, awoken by his hooves begin to swarm around him and cover his sight. Unable to slide to a stop Thranduil comes sliding out of control towards Tandavi's right, and due to a bat bite on his neck, begins swinging his horned head wildly.

^{Credits: Whit's tables were an inspiration | Coding by Schwartze | Image}

The cave is alive with soft sounds and echoes, an inconsistent drip, drop and the whispers of life unhappy to be disturbed. Little light permeates the murky gloom. Crystalline formations jut from walls like so many spears, crash through the ground as nails struck by the hammer of the gods. She skirts around them on nimble limbs, wary of their jagged ends, their deceptive beauty. She follows the path devotedly, for it is the only thing which seems somewhat certain in this new, uncertain world. Grey hooves clip gently at smooth, slate stone, occasionally ploping into a shallow puddle, or squelching against surfaces unsavory and soft. She opts not to look closely at ground, the same way she has avoided the infinitely dark ceiling. The copper child has learned that some questions are best left unasked, as much as it pains her not to know what trials lie in store.

No, not copper- today the girl is black and white, garbed in the colors of a dairy cow, a comical charade on her narrow form. The white dye she wears as a base clots her hair; the black runs thick in rivulets down the lines of her narrow frame. Most bizarre is the rubber udder strapped beneath her hips. She finds it aggravating, a damper on her already dour mood; there is nothing pleasant to be found in this situation, she thinks, except that when this will be done it will all finally be over. No more boxes, no more caves; when this fight is done she'll at last go home, and never again sign herself up for something so stupid, so stressful and strange.

She hears her opponent before she sees him, pauses at the sound of his hooves on stone. The girl did not think him to be so close, though the echoes of the cave make pinpointing his exact location impossible. Wary, she peers into the dark, willing some light to bounce back from his coat. Caution and readiness tenses her muscles, frustration and fear bites down on her teeth. Fire child is unsure what to expect, but she is certain that whatever it is, it will leave her displeased.

When he does appear, it is in a flurry of darkness and abrupt motion, too fast and too sudden for her to do anything but gasp. Misguidedly she looks first to her left, but sound is deceptive under the ground, and she turns right too late. She sees very little of him, not enough to gather that they are roughly the same height, though he is older and thicker set; not enough to begin to understand his costume, what the mixture of ribbon and wood might in fact represent; no, she sees only enough to notice his entourage, and to cry out in foolish, helpless surprise, before the weight of him plows into her right side.

It doesn't help that the bats see fit to circle her head and cut off her view. It doesn't help that her limbs are too long and the ground too slick for her to have any chance of maintaining her footing. The force of him knockes the wind from her lungs. She stumbles to the left, blind, angry, gasping from pain, and her flank catches fatefully upon a crystalline spire, tearing a cruel gash upon her right side, leaving her bleeding and nearly broken from shame. This isn't the way things were supposed to go. Nothing has been this bad, not before now.

The bats leave scratches upon gold-slashed cheeks, which sting as the paint seeps mercilessly beneath her skin. Battered and in shock, the child of fire considers giving up. What's the point, after all, if she's come so far only to be beaten so quickly, without even a chance? She wants to surrender; she wants to flee. She wants to be a coward.

She knows she is not.

With a throat-wrenching scream the girl arcs left, pulling toward her assailant and away from the crystal, reaching around with bared, pearly teeth, a frustrated snarl marring her pretty face. She snaps first to bite at his face, then pulls forth Roskuld's magic, feeling it rise at the back of her throat and sending it out in an electric bolt, a blast of raw power aimlessly aimed toward the opposing beast. The flash of lightning briefly and blindingly illuminates the entire cave, sending the bats into a flurry of frenzied activity and flight. She blinks hard against it, panting as the magic fades and she is left gasping for air, ribs aching and flank burning, hoping she has earned herself time to regroup. Her ace played, she has no idea what the next step will be, but knows she must somehow escape here alive.




@[Thranduil] | 1/2 | 796
Struck by Thranduil and staggers back & to the left. Hits a crystal, deeply cutting her flank. Also swarmed by bats. Bites at Thran and uses Roskuld's lightning magic to try and zap him.

x - x

Out of control the world passes in flashes, one stealing attention from the other. Skidding out of control in darkness and frustration, the golden ninja turtle flails about the cave careening towards this shadow of an opponent, visible only through the patches of white on their strange get up. Air stings at his neck where the bat had taken its first taste and it only seemed to entice the other into a more vicious frenzy. A roar from his own lips echos on the caves, but he can barely hear it in the roar of wings and screeching bats. Then their gone. Vision cleared of dark flying shadows, but relief was far from in his grasp. A solid wall of flesh, patched in white and black, blocks his path too late for turning back. Bodies slam into each other in a clash of flesh. The gold curves his head away trying to keep his balance as the other stumbles, leaving him without support. It was all falling apart, a comedy of errors, not a ninja comic like he planned. By some miracle the force of the blow the other horse stops him, but her fall does not cause his. The gold snorts, and trembles in this momentary peace as the bats regroup above and his opponent deals with their unbalanced body. A costume of which he had been mildly happy with was more irritating, and the darkness bubbled an irritation again within him. So when a cry lifts above the roar of the bats above screaming in at his right the gold reacts with this new emotion, lifting his head and pinning his ears, facing whatever new threat this girl thought she could bring. Her shadow comes zooming at him, the gold, with earth eyes flashing in a sharpness, lifts his front half up and away. A collected rear carries him out of the most severe damage of her attack, but a small clip of her teeth catch his neck and stings with a cut. Body moves, mind planning to twist and return the damage, but it seems in this spar, nothing was to go as planned. Lifted now to their level the bat seize their supper once more, and swarm his vision again, not that it was not blocked by the other’s body. Ears storm with deafening wings and screeches, while eye see nothing but black. Senses overwhelmed the gold begins to fall back to earth, but it is jointed and uneasy, blinded as he was, but remembering the thinness of the path. Pain swells in his neck with the cuts on both sides are hit by wings and bat bodies. Painful though it was, it could not compare to what hit him next. The magic stolen from another hit the gold, and flashed a light so brilliantly in the caves, that while descending still to earth he was lost in pain, and light. A scream is barely heard over the bats, and the gold realizes it is his own as nerves zing, each growing needles and stabbing away inside his body. A burn hotter than any fire the gold had known seared along his shoulder, the shell taking some of the hit. Then it was gone, well only the light, leaving the golden son seized in pain, surrounded in bats, and still trying to comprehend what the hell just happened. He lands, turned away slightly, but completely unaware now of where his aggressor was. All he knew was the bubbling trickling pain that swarmed his shoulder. He needed to stop whatever plans the girl had of trying to do that again, or at least to give her something else to think about. But where was she? Mind swarming with so much the gold stumbles around to face the way he had come, but he couldn’t have known that blinded and struggling as he was. Blind, pained, and confused he lashes out. Instinct taking hold of the reins when the rest of him was under too much siege to comprehend what the next logical step was. So while it still struggled to make sense of what just happened, and where the brawl should go after this the gold lashes out. Forelegs bend and hinds kick out, throwing those cloven hooves dangerously back and up. Having little clue where the girl was he could not tell if it would hit, but in lowering his head he escaped again the bat swarm. It was too little too late, with his hooves already flying through the air, whether she was there or not. Nothing was as it should be here, and only one thing was known for sure, this calamity of a spar needed to end soon. "Speech" OOC:: Sorry, I've been so swamped this week. Tag:: @[Tandavi] WC:: 785 Attack:: 2/2 Defense 0/1 Setting:: Described by Graveyard Costume:: Thranduil is a mutant ninja turtle! He has a red sash mask, and a large wooden shell strapped to his back. Though it doesn't come out very wide it is rather heavy and cumbersome. He also has red sashes around it and swamp grasses tied to his legs. Injuries:: Bat bite to the neck, small shallow cut on the other side of his neck, Lightening burn on his shoulder Summary:: Rearing away from Tandavi when he hears her cry she barely clips his neck, but her lightening strike hits dead center on his shoulder, and calls the bats back to cloud his vision. Coming down and stumbling around he acts on instinct, and bucks out.

^{Credits: Whit's tables were an inspiration | Coding by Schwartze | Image}

For a moment the world vanishes. In the wake of her magic all that remains is a blinding darkness and a sinking guilt. In her confusion and rage she forgot her code, but now it returns to her with the weight of her convictions, burning brighter than the leftover remnants of power and searing hotter than the electricity she just breathed into life. She had promised, had sworn she would not sink so low, would not strike another with the strength they did not wield; she had vowed to fight with honor and integrity, yet how strong were her pretty words when fear and anger infiltrated her heart?

She shakes with shame and agony. Black lashes flutter against light spots and tears. She wishes she could disappear, could run and forget she had ever signed up for this stupid tournament. Has she truly come so far, only to fall in the final round?

Her body does not stop to consider the moral consequences of what she's done, adrenaline fueling long limbs forward and left. She is nearly parallel to where her strangely garbed opponent had just stood when his hooves soar past her inky nose. She feels the air of him, hears his movement; it's the only thing that warns her to halt, for she is still largely blinded from her electric surge. Iron hooves tear into damp, uncertain ground, pulling her to an abrupt and painful halt; she gasps in pain, staggering as the tear in her flank burns in protest, crying out as her aching ribs sear beneath the inhalation. She is lucky, she knows, to have avoided his strike, but she does not feel fortunate. She wishes his hooves connected with her flesh. Maybe that pain would detract from the weight of her shame.

Onyx eyes finally adjust to the light just as the bats flee the foe's bi-horned head, and for the first time the girl gets a good look at her assailant. In another situation she might have been struck by how similar they are; though she is thinner, copper and not gold, she can see the sunlight shade of his coat in the light cast by her amulet, and the strands of silver hair which drift down his neck are not unlike the girl's own. The two swords he bears look viciously sharp, and for a moment she thinks maybe it's okay, maybe she can forgive herself for striking with her magic- but no, he did not use his advantage. Her behavior is still dishonorable, her actions still unforgivable.

Still, it is a battle, and she faces a strange and wooden-backed foe. Even in her guilt she knows she cannot grow complacent. Uncertain of anything, too sore to rear, the girl lunges forward to where her opponent's left side should be, or was, or maybe had never been- she isn't really sure. The movement tears open the gash in her side and she stumbles again as her right hind twists and gives way, her lunge now an aimless forward and downward surge of sinew and bone. Blindly she bites where she thinks his stomach might be, snarling as she kicks a small unseen crystal, blinking as paint seeps into her eyes. In the dark, a chip of her right fore bounces away. Her right hind pastern aches dimly, but nothing compares to the pain in her flank. It is not her day, and her heart is not in it.

In the darkness her guilt takes form, and before she can move to strike again a dark shape flings itself toward her face. The bat's teeth glitter in the light she wears; she ducks soon enough to save her nose, but cries out as fangs latch onto a golden ear, tearing away a penny-sized chunk of sensitive skin as she thrashes, attempting to dislodge the beast. It stings, burns; the paint which leaks into it does not help, just as it did not help the gash on her side. Her costume has been only hindrance, no help. She doesn't even know where her udders have gone, only that they fell off at some point in the fight.

Agony fills her. She does not want to fight anymore. Tandavi is done with this battle; all she desires is to go home.


@[Thranduil] | 2/2 | 717
Avoids Thran's rear, but stumbles and tears open her flank further. Lunges at Thran but stumbles and hurts herself more; tries to bite his belly. Mildly twists her right hind pastern and chips her hoof on a crystal. Bat bites her ear, takes out a small chunk of it. Tandavi is unhappy.

x - x

Hooves hit nothing but a small bat body, sending a loud screech above the rest. Stretched out as he was, with shoulder taking his weight, the gold groans in agony. The burn from his shoulder smoldering, while nerves still sting and job into his tender flesh. The wildness which flashed in his eyes from the shock now spirals down to a dull strife. Everything that was supposed to happen hadn’t, and it was clear this mess was not going to be conquered by a show of courage or strength. Now the dark air, filled with bats and the smell of blood and sweat seemed chocking. The surface called to him, the gold needed it, he needed air, then all would be mended and this could whole incident could bury itself into hell hole. Seeing the dull light of the tunnel’s opening through the flying black shadows, he moves to creep forward with his head low to avoid the cursed creatures above. His hooves had hit nothing so his opponent was not close, besides who could see anything, nor how could the gold still in shock think clearly of her presence. All he knew was the surface meant air, which meant relief from this horror of darkness. So with a turtle like slowness he moved to follow the path out. Ironic that he now embodied the other side of his costume. The girl would get her last word in though. A rush of bodies and air swirled on his left and the golden raises his head, eyes wide with fright. It was a wrong move as vison swirled back into darkness and wings. A hot steaming breath brushed his stomach and the gold drew back away, stumbling. Those teeth had caught him though and hung onto him, but not by flesh. The wide strap which had secured his wooden shell, was caught in the teeth of the other. Having not meant to take the strain it broke in their teeth, and everything, once again came crashing down. The wooden shell, heavy as it was tumbled off the golden’s back, a relief from its weight, but he had further problems. Stumbling to stay up, but blind as he was he hind catches a crystal and it scratches deep just above his hock. Harks pin back, and eyes shut in pain yet again. When they open, even in the darkness it can be seen, he was done with this. To remain below was be more stupid than a company of fools and so as he lifts himself from the crystal tipped in red the gold cares not about the other in the cave but moves forward. Pain from the new wound still could not compare to the one prior, and it masks about all his other scratches in its severity. The gold will still feel them all in time. Head drops below the reach of the bats and though the rocks act like blinders to his surroundings, he can see the path. With a determined force, he picks an awkward gait which pushes his body as fast as he can. It was easier without the shell, but the relief is washed away in the struggle to move. A hot ooze come sliding down the gold skin below his shoulder and hock, but he keeps on, limping into a trot. He was done. He needed air. He needed to forget. "Speech" OOC:: With two minutes to spare? Tag:: @[Tandavi] WC:: 552 Attack:: 2/2 Defense 1/1 Setting:: Described by Graveyard Costume:: Thranduil is a mutant ninja turtle! He has a red sash mask, and a large wooden shell strapped to his back. Though it doesn't come out very wide it is rather heavy and cumbersome. He also has red sashes around it and swamp grasses tied to his legs. Injuries:: Bat bite to the neck, small shallow cut on the other side of his neck, lightening burn on his shoulder, scratch on just above his hock Summary:: Tandavi grabs the strap of his costume, cutting it free, but sending the gold stumbling to the side and into a crystal. Lowering his head away from the bats the gold can hold up no more and with the weight of the shell gone he heads for the surface.

^{Credits: Whit's tables were an inspiration | Coding by Schwartze | Image}

THRANDUIL
Realism [+3.5]
Your costume was well described and you mentioned it in each post, although I was hoping to see a bit more movement hindrance from the shell, or perhaps vision hindrance with the eye mask. You did a great job with the bats and the surroundings, but I would have liked to see some breed references as well. Your injuries were described well and followed the damage appropriately and all your attacks and defenses made sense. You edited your last post which isn’t allowed so some points were docked there.

Overall you are a great fighter and definitely have an eye for describing realism.


Emotion [+2]
I definitely felt some emotion, especially in your second post, but I was really hoping to see more of Thranduil’s personality shine through, I know he’s not lacking in that department.


Prose [+4]
You have really lovely writing and set up for your posts with flow.


Readability [+1.5]
Although your posts were easy to read, you had a lot of typos sprinkled throughout which occurred frequently enough it was a bit distracting.

Post 1:
“He saw not bulges…” (no)
“...the gold had not time for that anyway.” (no)
“...chirps row louder.” (grow)
“Why go out for supper with delivery guy was already here.” (not sure what this was supposed to say…)
“...not moved, his opponent’s right side.” (to his)
“... but from being out of control that caused his continued attack. “ (awkward wording).

Post 2:
“Then their gone.” (they’re).
“...the roar of the bats above screaming in at his…” (basts above, scraming).
“..with earth eyes flashing in a sharpness, lifts his front half up and away.” (weird wording).
“...level the bat seize their supper once more….” (bats).


Finally tally: 46+(11*2)= 68 HP


TANDAVI
Realism [+4]
I thought you did a great job with your costume and especially having the paint make your wound sting, although I would have liked to see more hindrance from the udder and more mention in the second post - it felt like an afterthought in the second post. You had great scenery and I really liked how you used it to injure yourself. You also played on the bats really well. You mentioned breed in both posts, but didn’t really bring it into anything as far as why an attack succeeded or not, why an attack was made etc. Good injury descriptions and relation to damage. Where was her companion in this??

Overall I thought you had awesome realism and did especially well with your surroundings.


Emotion [+3]
Tandavi had a lot of strong emotions through each post, it really made her come alive for me, especially when she shot off the magic.


Prose [+4.5]
Your writing was just beautiful in each post, it really captivated me.


Readability [+2.5]
Your posts were very easy to read, just a couple typos in the first one.

Post 1
“...to look closely at ground” (the ground).
“..force of him knockes the wind...” (knocks).
“...raw power aimlessly aimed toward…” (oxymoron!)


Finally tally: 40+(14*2)= 68 HP

---

THRANDUIL
Realism [+3]
:: Lowering his twin horned head the gold came at the creature’s right. Try to come at her right. Don’t be so decisive.
:: Great job remembering the scenery and using it in post 1.
:: Really creative way to take the damage in your closing post, I wish you would have described the damage more.


Emotion [+2]
:: His interaction and thoughts on his costume were great throughout, I really appreciated what was going on with him.


Prose [+2]
:: running like a x over his back and under his barrel. An x.
:: The only none spear tipped space was the path he found himself on non spear tipped space, I think you meant.
:: Frustrated he could not more with silence the gold picked up the pace, Move
:: Still the gold had not time for that anyway. No time
:: the fluttering and high chirps row louder. Grow
:: The could smell the sweat and breath of creatures They
:: Why go out for supper with delivery guy was already here. When
:: Then their gone. They’re


Readability [+2]
Your prose is not necessarily wrong, but sometimes difficult to read as a flowing unit, primarily due to your chosen style of writing. I think it compliments Thranduil nicely, but sometimes interrupts the flow of your words.

Finally tally: 46+(9*2)= 64HP


TANDAVI
Realism [+3.5]
:: Great job working in character comparison and remembering the scenery in post 1.
:: I don’t think you needed to take more damage in post 1, but I wish you would have described what you took a little more.
:: I see you described the first damage quite a bit more in your second post. Good job distinguishing what was old injury from new, and where the damage was coming from.


Emotion [+2]
:: Awesome in post 1. I was instantly drawn into Tandavi’s character and really felt what she was going through as she went through the cave. For a moment I felt like she really went from 0 to 60 in no time flat, regarding the depth and strength of her emotion, but if you were taking the graveyard competition as one continuous event in her history, I can see how her emotions would have been well-frayed already.
:: Good work continuing into the second post, the part about her fighting with integrity was just lovely.


Prose [+4]
:: Your writing was beautiful throughout- easy to read, flowed well, edited nicely, and just seems to have a knack for drawing you in. Well done!


Readability [+3]
:: No concerns or comments

Finally tally: 40+(12.5*2)= 65HP