the Rift


[JUDGED] Visit us (Elsa)
Ascended Helovian

Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164
Deceased
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER
Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya & Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic Angel
#1
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No longer did my soul feel ready to snap like the tip of a bullwhip. I'd taken to crafting and prayer as my salve, with a sprinkle of companionship on the side. From the loins of our home I'd crafted an iron spear, fashioned carefully and over the course of many months. It took weeks to smelt metals which would be both strong and light. It took even longer to create a design. There was still much left to do.

Work kept the mind busy.

Yar, speaking of busy...

Elsa had come to me with a desire to learn more about war, a bloody art. Far removed from the beautiful decor the Mason was capable of producing. I wondered why she sought it? Did the lass simply want to further her skillset? Protect a family yet new to this world? Whatever the reason I didn't press my question, only agreed to the request.

The sun came up, warm and comforting. I looked over the floating valley, flush with life -- from a distance this place seemed beautiful, a paradise. It was a lull, a trap -- yar and I'd fallen for it. With each new death and no small amount of scrutiny we are further cautioned to be wary even here. Twice bled. I traveled by foot to the little sparring arena. A circler section of earth, raked by many scuffling feet to the point that not even a dandelion would dare show its face. Soiled with blood, sweat and tears. Fina lands with her sister on a sunbaked rock. Present only to observe.

Elsa would be along soon enough.

Attack: (0/3)
Setting: Early morning. Training ground on sky island.
OOC:

Image Credit
[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]

Elsa the Icebound Posts: 644
World's Edge Protector atk: 6 | def: 10.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.2 Hands :: Six (Frostfall) HP: 73 | Buff: BULK
Edgar :: Plain Zephyr :: Arctic & Wakiya Klare
#2

Elsa
My head's underwater, but i'm breathing fine.
It was time. No longer could she hide behind the excuse of being a mother. Even then, her excuse was a failed one. She knew that even though fighting had caused much damage to her body, she needed to feel the pain of hooves once again. Midas had helped her once before, and she was glad for his help again. Maybe he understood where she was coming from, maybe he didn’t. Either way, the reason she was here today was solely for her daughters, and her daughters only. It didn’t matter if anyone else was in harms way, for they are always first on her list.

Taking flight, she knew where she needed to be. The island was a place of life, but had now been soiled by death, so where better to be than in the heart of it all? A few treaded paths eventually gave way to where she needed to be. A large dirt patch graced the ground, allowing only the growth of warriors. From rains past, it was easy to see the weathered imprints of fights and spars that no doubt broke out here on a daily basis. How many of these steps were the last ones, if any? Sad to think that such a place exists on a land that was supposedly a gift from the Gods. Such “great” Gods they were.

Standing there was obviously Midas, decked out in his usual Midas-y things. Well, his only Midas-y thing, which was the collar that was adorned to his neck. That thing seemed to never be without Midas. Maybe he kept all his secrets there. One so formal, so “put together” never had clean hands. What were his skeletons? Did he keep evidence hidden under that collar? Such was the life of Elsa who could do nothing more than try to pick everyone apart. Even now, she was in a battle, trying to tear her mind from its usual musings, and focus it in on the battle. Midas was not going to be an easy win, and Elsa was no doubt leaning on having to go the defensive route. Now was just a question of how bloodied she’d be when she walked away, if at all. Offering a small, polite smile to Midas she dipped her head. He deserved at least a little respect, seeing as the Gods had him all “ascended” and what not. It was not in Elsa’s plan today to have the Gods smite her for not respecting their chosen one.

The formalities were short lived though, as she relied on her ever so clever tactic of quick attacks. Standing firmly where she was at the edge of the dirt circle, she began. The ice that already graced her soul sprung from the ground where she thought Midas’ right hind hoof was. If she could pierce the precious foundation he relied on, maybe she could stand a chance at brining the Golden King to his knees. Pushing off roughly with her hindquarters she sprung towards him. Height was one of her advantages here, for she was quite taller than he was. Hoping to gain enough momentum from her short burst of speed, she ran at Midas hoping the ice distracted the Czar, and she could ground him with her force.

He, however, was no doubt without a plan. Such a seasoned warrior like him could probably pick her apart piece by piece and know exactly where their opponent was going. She would have to rely on speed and agility, if a close fight is what he wanted, she was going to use every last bit of strength to stay on a guerrilla tactic. Such is the only way to dethrone a king, and to save the family.

"their speech goes here and this is the color"
[1/3 Attacks || 0/1 Defense || 624 Words || @[Midas]]

code © tamme, picture © chan
  • Any force can be used against Elsa.
  • Please tag any posts that involves Elsa.
Ascended Helovian

Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164
Deceased
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER
Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya & Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic Angel
#3
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Much like our previous fray, she came to me wordless, obviously knowing well the intent of this meeting. Her stoic silence is unusually pleasing to me...yar, say true. Considering my mouth was also absent useful words. Tis polite and expected, I return her smile and the respectful noding nodding gesture with an approving grin. Sooty ears twitch forward, one automatically falls back when she shifts those clear crystals to peer at something behind and below me. I can feel the sand beneath one foot begin to faintly quiver.

Instinct, (coupled with a wary personality that was trained with age and schooled by pain) led me to take a quick sidestep right as if to start our dance. Though it wasn't my aim to intentionally harm or otherwise cause malice injury...It would seem I'm alone in this opinion. From the corner of one eye, I catch an alarming glimpse of an icy point just below my lifted hind foot. Cleanly poking above the dirt where I'd stood merely a second ago. Apparently Elsa was attempting to bend the odds in her favor.

By whatever means possible.

Yar, she very nearly skewered my hoof.

Impressive; but also dangerous.

Though I'm on edge, (wary of more pointy things suddenly poking from the ground,) a callus smile produces ripples that erase whatever surprise had risen to my face. I lift my crown and divert attention to see the pale iceberg begin her charge from the edge of yon ring. Every fiber of this body starts to tense up; each tendon and fleshy muscle sets itself as if to meet the attack or brace for contact. Just as she was about to set herself upon me, I deceivingly set an example that would define the meaning of 'speed;' my smaller bulk lunges left, pulling sharply from her path.

Once aside, these painted limbs keep going, throwing up dust in their wake. Perhaps the girl would receive a mouthful. Each smooth push is a testament to the grace and power of our dance. I glide off my hindquarters to race past her left most corner. Gilden feathers slip free from my barrel. Limbs thrash hard, once, twice, thrice. Just as she was unconcerned for the wellbeing of my toes; so did I seem uncaring should any part of Elsa get caught in the downstroke of my right appendage. Lunging skyward I thrust hard to achieve lift. Ivory banner snapped in the wind like a whip.

Let's see if ice could materialize in the sky.

Attack: (1/3)
OOC:
Words: 425

Image Credit


@[Elsa]
[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]

Elsa the Icebound Posts: 644
World's Edge Protector atk: 6 | def: 10.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.2 Hands :: Six (Frostfall) HP: 73 | Buff: BULK
Edgar :: Plain Zephyr :: Arctic & Wakiya Klare
#4

Elsa
My head's underwater, but i'm breathing fine.
There are a number of fatal flaws within Elsa’s fighting tactics. First off, she always approached every battle with a mindset that she would do well. When would she learn to overestimate her opponent instead of assuming they were having an “off day”? Secondly, her tactics were old. It was so easy to just look at Elsa, and know where she was going. She was far too predictable for the life of fighting. One day she would learn, and hopefully today would nail the coffin shut (figuratively, of course).

Her hooves pounded against the ground, pushing her forward. She could feel the awkward ridges of the dried dirt teasing her. They just wanted one misstep so they could grab her leg and slam her into the ground. Her heart began to race, watching like a hawk for every little muscle twitch under Midas’s skin. It seemed that with each pace his, smaller body would grow larger and larger. Her eyes easily spotted his defense, as his hoof promptly moved out of the way. Well, there goes her tactic. Her hope was still intact, so maybe she could salvage this offensive maneuver and bring him down.

Yet once again, Midas was being Midas. His stupid little painted body so easily avoided her bull run. Dust remained in his wake, the dry ground providing a nice cover at the worst possible time. The dust bled into her body. It scratched at her eyes and with each inhale she found herself choking. Rough, grinding coughs were all that came out when she attempted to throw profanities at Mr. Golden Boy. Her eyes were closed, and she was listening for his movements. He had gone past her left, but where exactly? This was dangerous territory, for if he had any vision of her; his attack would take her down without a fight.

The dust finally began to settle, and she could finally get a look at Midas once her eye (sometimes its nice to be down one eye) cleared. Turning her head to her left, it was obvious she had been a little too late. His wings expanded, and she knew she was in for a beating. Thrice they came down upon her back, the bony part lining up just right with her spine. Each time the down stroke shocked her back, leaving parts of her barrel near the impact site tingly, and some going numb. The one thing that every horse underestimates about Pegasus’ is that their wings are much stronger than they look, and can be just as deadly as a horn.

Disoriented, she turns to watch Midas take off into the air. A strangled cry of frustration rushes past her lips. "You're an asshole." She croaks out. No regrets. Why did he decide to go into the air? Solely to piss her off probably, he had to know how much she preferred ground assault of aerial combat. Taking a few lunging steps, she canters off, spreads her wings, and soon enough she’s lifted into the air with Midas. Damn man couldn’t get ice spiked either. No wonder he’s called the “Ascended”.

Attempting to get more lift, she flapped, trying to bring herself above Midas in the air. If she could get this just right, she could (in theory) force him back to the ground. Circling above where she thought he’d be, she finally turned, and angled herself towards him. Her wings shifted as to allow wind to rush past as fast as possible. It was odd to have that feeling. It had been so long since she had been in this sort of situation. It felt so… foreign.

Hoping enough speed had been gained in her downward rush, she put her plan into motion. Once she was about a meter above where she thought Midas to be, she opened her wings and kicked her legs downward. If this worked, then maybe she’d be able to ground him, and keep herself out of his way! Perfect! That is, of course, if Midas doesn’t decide to be more of an asshole and just hop out of the way. For once she just wished that he would stand in place and take it like a man!

[2/3 Attacks || 0/1 Defense || 702 Words || @[Midas]]

code © tamme, picture © chan
  • Any force can be used against Elsa.
  • Please tag any posts that involves Elsa.
Ascended Helovian

Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164
Deceased
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER
Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya & Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic Angel
#5
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Her words are lost to the whistling wind that whisks past my ears like the wheezing of a congested dragon; each humid breathe harasses silky thatch to dance a tight waltz. Yar, had I been in a position to catch the meaning and tone, these lips would’ve spread for cruel laughter rather than annoyance; nar, only the foolish or desperate drew on frustration and enmity as strength. I flew in large arch around that pale frame and our dusty training circle, keeping both gilden eyes upon yon tricky Mason – hard lines softened with both amusement and sadness by how easily flustered she became.

Moments later, Elsa
cantered from the ground and launched herself airborne.

“Control,”gentle vocals whisper to heaven, wisdom she’d never hear, “Focus,” those words pressed, as if they'd reach between the mist of our minds and solidify into a reality. Her larger bulk caught an uplifting draft and rose to my level from behind. Yar, was Elsa quickened by irritability? Hastened by some rouge desire to see me bleed? Fury was blind, madness was stupid. Ebony crown pulls up and twists round to hang low across my neck, trying to keep her in my sights. She seemed to be aiming to fly higher than me; I allowed it and drift a little lower –there is a rough, but genuine desire to train yon hasty soul, it overrids my need for victory. Aye, my purpose is to be her bondsman, a mentor; even if she grew to hate our friendship.

I heard those heavy hammers edge tantalizingly closer; caught a sidelong glimpse of pale sand rapidly growing darker, larger as my personal shadowy friend is suddenly forced to mate by rape. Ivory pinions unexpectedly slow their motion, jerking to angle up, pulling the cranium that directs them along. Slowing to the point of nearly stopping I lean back, pressing my weight toward tense haunches. Wings are thrashing hard now, trying maintain altitude while levitating and reduce my speed as swiftly as possible.

She soared lower and past, the wind from her movements lashed against my face, causing these eyes to squint in an effort to defend against possible danger. Those unmarked feathers threatened to occupy the space inches from where I’d have soared into only a moment or so prior. The back of those ivory hindfeet are thrashing, one of her daggers clip firmly against my right forearm (that's been dangling out, due to a lack of time to retract,) it dug into my hot flesh smartly enough to scrap fur away from the meat. Though no blood was drawn. That stinging leg reflectively curls itself tighter against my barrel, a soft rasp escaped low, a sound that was almost a groan when pressed against clinched lips and teeth.

Twinging pain, an annoyance and driving factor. I lung forward, (favoring my leg to remain tucked close), pinions are labored, struggling despite my lighter bulk. I hoped to gain enough speed that would allow precious seconds to catch up. Ashy dome extends, throwing the dice, angling with these lips slide back against the ivory soldiers that stood patiently for their spears to be sunk into musky flesh. I launch my attack toward her quarters, aiming to sink deep into those curvy, womanly thighs.

Attack: (2/3)
OOC:
Words: 543
Image Credit


@[Elsa]
[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]

Elsa the Icebound Posts: 644
World's Edge Protector atk: 6 | def: 10.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.2 Hands :: Six (Frostfall) HP: 73 | Buff: BULK
Edgar :: Plain Zephyr :: Arctic & Wakiya Klare
#6

Elsa
My head's underwater, but i'm breathing fine.
Control? Did control ever really exist? No, it didn’t. No matter how hard Elsa tried to “control” it always ended up in an epic disaster. Just look at her entire past. That right there is scientific proof that this “control” theory is nothing more than a lie fed to those with too much hope. Succumbing to her emotions was the only thing she knew. Not to mention, it was her motivation. Feeling something meant she was still alive, still breathing, still fighting.

As her hoof came down, she felt it hit flesh. It skimmed across the surface, and she could only hope she had left a wound. Maybe then she could gain a little more respect in his mind. She longed to be in existence. Her mind wanted so badly to be freed of the titles the world had given her. She wasn’t just a mason, a mother, and a lover. She is a strong, independent fighter that has overcome what she thought was a doomed path to hell. Did Helovia see that though? Or was she too far buried under the weight of titles to ever become what she hoped to be? The masks needed to fall away, and she realized that now. Pretending to be the submissive woman had begun to slowly rot away the core of her being. She couldn’t be the pillar of support for everyone. She needed others to start stepping up and supporting her.

Pushing away from Midas’ body she knew this was far from over. The spar had only just begun, and the tiny wound she had inflicted was not going to ground the Czar. Midas on the other hand, had done a pretty good job at making her flight painful. His strong wings had left a sore feeling that resonated in the muscle between her wings. With each flap she felt the muscle knot up and scream. It wanted her to land. Midas, however, would not let her move far. Her wings hindered her speed, so the Czar easily followed behind her. Before she could dive out of the way, she felt his teeth sink into the flesh just above her right gaskin. The pain was horrifying. It hit the nerves with the force of a train, causing her to arch her back in an attempt to release his teeth. The right leg coiled then in it’s knee jerk reaction to flee, and released a kick back at the Czar’s face. It wasn’t the attack that Elsa had planned, but her nerves had taken control. She was victim to her body’s natural fight or flight defense.

Angling herself then, she refused to stay in the air to take another hit from Midas. Hoping to avoid another bite to her rear, she dove down. At the same time, for a safety measure, she kicked out with both hind legs. The burning that resonated within her right leg would have to scream. She needed to make sure he couldn’t get close without experiencing pain. The wind rushed past her wings as she zigzagged downward. Hopefully the erratic path would keep the Czar from following so close behind. As the ground neared, she prepared for a landing. As long as Midas stayed out of the way, she’d be able to land without a problem. Then again, fighting him was never that easy.

All the while her mind reeled. So why was she here exactly? Her first notion for coming was to defend her family, but was that really it? In the subconscious of her mind she knew that Oxy could handle himself. With the recent turn of events, she knew she did not have to worry for her family; he (she hoped) was intelligent and strong enough to defend them. That was when it began to dawn on her, she was here for herself. It was a reminder that she was still strong, that a part of her still existed. The girl that was born with all the potential and wonders to conquer the world still existed. All she needed was a little bit of tumbling to shine through the rocky layer that had suffocated her. Midas was just another stepping-stone on the path to redemption. She needed to forgive herself.

[3/3 Attacks || 0/1 Defense || 706 Words || @[Midas]]

code © tamme, picture © chan
  • Any force can be used against Elsa.
  • Please tag any posts that involves Elsa.
Ascended Helovian

Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164
Deceased
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER
Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya & Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic Angel
#7
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There is a brief moment of clarity; a calm during a savage storm. Flashing memories drive me back to a time when this soul was still a green whelp -- anxious and yearning for a chance to shine. Stand apart from others. There were countless hours of training and aspiring to become as fine a mentor as our General. Azzuen. Long months under the blazing noonday sun gave way to chiseled flesh, not unlike marble. Only by a feverous toil did my prowess rise.

Then there was Kri. She'd favored all yon pleasures of heaven, preferring our privilege to fly, over that of ground warfare. 'Use every advantage,' she schooled and those methods became ingrained. I recall one particular day beneath the orange, blue sky -- how both my feathers and flesh received a lashing, there was no quarter given. Breathless diving and barrel rolling, lunging and speedily withdrawing.

I paled in comparison to her glory.

_____

Teeth fall lower than their intended mark. Instead of hitting the thick tissue of her haunch or thigh, I catch the curved joint of a leg; her right gaskin. Ivory soldiers took the plunge anyway, driving their spears deep into those ivory tendons that bore such noteworthy nerve endings. The limb is quickly jerked from my grasp not a second later, I balk instantly -- (already guessing what would come) having coiled crown inward, toward my chest with every intent to pull as far away as possible when Elsa tried to repay my heartfelt lesson by nearly punching out the same teeth which caused her grievance. With a little luck and no small amount of skill -- my perfect white row escapes mutilation. Yar, but narrowly.

My opponent dives for the ground. I remain above, watching as those heels kick at the air, absent aim or target.

Elsa...

Respect. Yar, she still had mine say true, there was never a loss of it. Yon girl was impatient, bold -- but also inspiring, courageous. Even as Elsa struggled to wrench elusive victory from my grasp, I honored this spar with the promise to school her mistakes... Sadly, she'd soon come to realize that the punishment for a hasty heart, was the same for an unworthy one.

Sand.

I called upon the silver spools within me. Luring them to unwind. Below, off to the right of yon ring, (hopefully out of sight), three oval objects spin up, hanging by invisible strings. They resembled the tips of spearheads and glittered faintly as the sun eclipses them. Their puppet master waits for an opportune moment, and just as those opposing daggers touch down, I jerk yon threads and send the spears flying. Their aim is the right side of her unprotected barrel and neck.

Attack: (3/3)
OOC:
Words: 453
Image Credit


@[Elsa]
[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]

Elsa the Icebound Posts: 644
World's Edge Protector atk: 6 | def: 10.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.2 Hands :: Six (Frostfall) HP: 73 | Buff: BULK
Edgar :: Plain Zephyr :: Arctic & Wakiya Klare
#8

Elsa
My head's underwater, but i'm breathing fine.
There was always a calm in the middle of the storm. Hurricanes had this wonderful thing called the eye, and no wonder that’s what they called it. Every one possessed it, and those within its clutches, they suddenly find themselves in a state of calm. Kind of like it never happened. It gives the feeling that the attack is over; they think they’ve figured it all out. Much like Elsa, she thought she had figured it out. Her life, her calm, and her current “revelation” was what she thought she was basking in. It was all a façade, a lie to keep from dying within the midst of a hurricane of emotion. Unlike Midas, she couldn’t find shelter in this wretched state.

It all began again, as the hoof that was aimed at Midas whizzed by without contact. She was so foolish! The anger began to well up within her. Salty tears she wished to shed were overshadowed by the darkness of her mental defenses. Crying is weakness, while anger is justifiable. She felt as if all of her skill was flying up into the air, and she was watching it be consumed by the whirlwind. A loud cry of anger ripped from her body like the shingles of a house. It was reckless, free and raw. It exposed what was lingering beneath the pale surface.

She doesn’t want to fly in this storm anymore. Diving downward, the sight of the ground growing closer drew in the relief. It would all be over soon, she could hit the ground and run. Her legs could take her far away, until she could find the nerve to return to the scene of devastation.

The sandy grass was spread before her like a welcoming embrace. Her wings, which had grown tired and sore from bearing the weight of pain, groaned in pleasure. Its respite was soon to arrive. Extending her hooves downward, she prepped for landing. Her only worry was for the hind leg that had taken the brunt of his teeth. It throbbed even when it was not moving, and she could only imagine the pain of a landing. Closing her eyes, she let her body do the rest. Within moments she felt the sand absorb the impact of her heavy weight. Never before in her life had she loved sand so much, it was starting to surpass her innate love for ice and snow.

That wasn’t all that was greeting her, for when she opened her eyes something flashed to her right. It glittered oddly in the light, much to bright and happy to be the normal glare of sand. What was it? She turned her head to see what mysterious object glittered like lightening. However, what she was greeted with was the final wave of the storm. Spearheads from all directions flew towards her cream body. She held her breath, as if she thought it would stop her from drowning in more agony. One comes flying towards her, and she ducks. It’s not enough though; the blade grazes the top of her withers. The other two fall short of her body. The blade that hit draws a quick, clean cut revealing bright red flesh. Some of her blood spills from it, staining the otherwise pristine coat red. The wound itself burns. Although it’s neither deep nor life threatening, it feels as if she is being sawed apart. The entire length of her back now feels weak; this storm had certainly taken a lot. Both her physical and mental walls had been torn down, and are flooded beyond repair.

She wants so badly to turn and scream at Midas. She wants to yell at him for trying to kill her and claiming to do it out of the goodness of his heart. Yet, she was the one who asked for it. Every single bump, bruise and droplet of blood was because she asked him to do it. So she grinds her teeth against the pain and anger, and stumbles off without another word. She does not want him to see her so weak and so helpless. Her mind and body needs shelter and rest before she can even think of starting to rebuild. How quickly had her Pompeii burned to the ground.

[3/3 Attacks || 1/1 Defense || 711 Words || @[Midas]]

code © tamme, picture © chan
  • Any force can be used against Elsa.
  • Please tag any posts that involves Elsa.

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#9
By my verdict: MIDAS is the winner!

ELSA
Realism [0]
You have some great attack decisions all throughout the fight, like your opening post to turn sand to ice under his foot to throw him off or the reaction to kick his head. What you seem to need the most focus on however is explaining your defenses and detailing your injuries. In each post except the last you didn't take enough injury given the damage that was rolled particularly in your second post which rolled a damage of 6. Similarly in post 3, you never explained how Midas' bite hit her leg instead of her rump. Aside from lacking injury, you also had the timing drawn out on your second post when explaining how you took the damage. Midas' attack around her would have been fast, but your explanation sounded like it was drug out, giving her lots of time to think.

Overall I think your writing could benefit from more explanation for what she's doing. I saw you mention breed and surroundings a few times, but you only seemed to observe them, never use them. Like in your first post when you charge at Midas you mention how she's taller, but don't go on to explain how that benefits her, especially since Midas is stronger. Description would have also helped when you brought up sustained injuries, like in post 3 you say her wings hurt because of Midas' attack to her back in post 2, but you don't go on to describe how that hurt actually affects her, in fact you then go and do evasive zigzagging flight. So while you're scratching the surface of realism and are on the right track, delve deeper. The more you say and how you say is what brings all of this to life.


Emotion [+1]
I was feeling a general lack of emotion in your posts, although each improved as we went through the fight, it at times felt force or something remembered last minute. The intro and conclusion are good places to house your emotion, but you don't just to want to let it pool there, you want to spread it out through all of your post.


Prose [+1.5]
Your posts felt rather simple and plain with the wording and imagery, as well as at times disjointed and choppy when moving between paragraphs or ideas. Look into different transition words to help establish flow, and don't be shy with inserting some synonyms.


Readability [+2.5]
Your posts were always clear and contained proper grammar and sentence structure.
Post 2:
"...under Midas’s skin." (Midas' is the correct way)
"...much she preferred ground assault of aerial combat." (to rather than of)


Finally tally: 34.5 + (3*2)= 40.5 HP

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

MIDAS
Realism [+3.5]
You have an excellent grasp on the mechanics of fighting and it shows with your well placed attacks and dodges. Elsa missed twice and each time you wrote it so well I would have believed it regardless of dice. I really loved how you incorporated your stats differences and surroundings frequently and seamlessly so that it was natural rather than a fishing of points. It fell a bit flat in your third post, but all the ones prior were excellent. I did think your first attack with only your wings was a bit peculiar. Wings are stronger than most people realize, but they are also very easy to damage so shouldn't be the heart of an attack, so I did remove some realism for that. Otherwise awesome job!


Emotion [+2]
I really didn't get a sense of emotion from Midas until the last posts, but once you put it in there it was lovely and nicely sprinkled throughout your whole post. I especially loved his line in your second post where he was saying how his victory wasn't as important as mentoring her (though I would have liked to see him give some verbal advice to back up that claim and his thoughts!).


Prose [+3]
You have beautiful style and imagery and maintain during the whole fight.


Readability [-2]
I really urge you to read through your posts to check for mistakes, even read it aloud to test if the sentence is running correctly because you had a lot of mistakes all throughout that were very distracting to me. Your last attack in your third post was also a bit difficult to understand what all was happening - I shouldn't have to check the character records to know what magic he's performing.

Post 1:
"...say true. Considering my mouth was also absent useful words." (fragmented. absent of)
"...respectful noding nodding gesture with.." (repeated word)
"Sooty ears twitch forward, one automatically falls back..." (need a transition word like 'but' after the comma)
"...malice injury...It would..." (lower case it)
"By whatever means possible." (fragment)
"Impressive; but also dangerous." (fragment)

Post 2:
"...each humid breathe harasses silky..." (breath)
"Moments later, Elsa
cantered from..." (line break)
"“Control,”gentle..." (space needed)
"...angling with these lips slide back against the ivory soldiers that stood..." (weird wording and tone switch)

Post 3:
"Stand apart from others." (fragment)
"...mentor as our General. Azzuen." (General, Azzuen)
"...within me. Luring them to..." (me, luring)


Finally tally: 69.5 + (6.5*2) = 82.5 HP


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