the Rift


[JUDGED] Unfinished Business

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#1
 
 

 
Was he going mad? Fighting a creature that certainly a match for him for nothing? No prize or care? With nothing more at stake than ego he was willing to pull out all the stops? No, that couldn’t be madness. Madness was defined by days pacing rock caves, and boarders. Madness was a collar. This, a flex of muscle and mind, was utterly sane compared to that. He wasn’t going mad, he was waking up from it.

They clashed, two bodies slamming into one another, opposite shoulders colliding. The golden gained a small scratch on his right shoulder, but the Amarathine was not so lucky. Sounding like a dozen swords being drawn, the spikes at his collar were shocked into awakening by the impact and sunk in. The golden’s wicked smile bared all, turning to bloodlust in the heat of the strike as the scent of blood rose up to him.

Momentum was not arrested though and the bodies tore past one another. The golden stumbles as he drew up sharp, the snow and his already worn body impeding his usual grace. His mood though was too high to notice its absence. On his breath, though heavy from the effort of before, was a whisper of a laugh. Perhaps a bloody defeated Ophelia wasn’t his end goal, but he certainly would love to see it. He swung round, the heavy armor on his back slowing his agility, but his earth eyes catch sight of a near fully blood stained mare. It made him giddy. Her color changing magic fueled his own the bloodlust born in the height of battle. Thranduil’s smirk rose as she came at him again, doing all the work for him. Tasseled tails flicked back and forth, ready to imbed the spikes, now gleaming in the afternoon sun, and turn her illusion of blood into a reality.

With snow flying up she came again, yet reached back for something. Golden harks pinned, but there was no time. The next second it’s gone, washed away in fog and headache once more, because for the second time her magic washed upon him, only this time without miss or mercy.

The dark stag to the right of the golden struggled. He was ready for a brawl, yet was finding himself unnoticed. His mind was weaving together other plans when he feels the constant drumming from the gold slow again. He turned to look to his bonded, but a flash of light, hot and white, erased everything. Blind he reached out ”Thranduil, fight!” But the golden was too far lost in headaches and blindness to answer. Panic struck the deer’s heart. When the slightest sight returns, it was too late!

Her teeth lock into flesh, bruising, and cutting. A scream of pain and shock echoed across the snow from the gold. Haldir’s heart broke at the sound. How dare she! In youth and inexperience he acted on his overzealous loyalties. Small black body surged from its post, antlers swinging as he targeted Ophelia’s left side. His legs locked into rhythm, determined to crash forward through snow and brush no matter what. Yet the golden was already acting.

Though pain surged through the gold, it loosens the magic’s grip and the red mare’s blurry form began to gain meaning again.  Teeth bared, and instantly, still without remembering who this creature was or why, the golden went on the offensive. Humor, which had lost its reasons with the memory of his attempted stealth, gave way to a cold viciousness. How dare she- (still fumbling for a name) mettle in his mind and strike at a place to so vulnerable. It was an insult added to his pain. Yet this wasn’t the golden of before. In this insult he did not lose himself entirely to a hot tempered flame and rage, but seethed in a cold fire, with damned grin and cruel intentions.

The golden stepped up fast, not wanting to lose his advantage of having her close. To give distance now felt like a vulnerability after she somehow managed to sneak this close. So he did not pull back to escape her grip but instead hinds dug into the soft earth below the snow and shove again forward. A dark shadow of a stag flashes in his side vision, but for both of them it was too late to alter course now. The spikes at the gold’s collar lashed out, and without mercy at the same time his called forth magic of his own to try and bring the smoke of his cold flames into Ophelia’s (that was her name!) eyes. A suitable payback for her somehow blinding him. The effects of her magic were wearing off, and the golden was only emboldened by it.
 
 OOC:: Continued, with permission from Tamme, from here: I never call it even
Setting:: "- Thistle Meadow in Frostfall - Bright afternoon with no clouds but snow on the ground"
WC:: 792
ATK:: 1/3
INJURIES:: Slow from Tingal, Small shallow scratch 4" long on shoulder, bite mark, bruised and cut along edges on the underside of his neck
Identities:: Erebos, Tembovu
Items:: Circlet (polearm, Moon amulet(containing Ashamin's heart magic))
SUMMARY:: Thranduil turns to face Ophelia but gets the full blast of her magic, and so is bitten under the neck. Haldir, panicked, runs at Ophelia, aiming for her side. Thranduil reacts quickly too though and surges forward, while unleashing his blinding magic.

:: [ Magic: DarkxFire | Can blind vision of opponent by creating smoke in their eyes ] 
:: [ Restrictions | Lasts only 30 seconds in battle ]









 

[Image: 5381546acbe33]
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.
Ascended Helovian

Ophelia the Amaranthine Posts: 701
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath Tamme
#2


"Where worlds collide, blood divides
When darkness falls, fate calls"
To say Ophelia was shaken was an understatement. She felt exhausted, mentally, after being forced in a loop of nearly eradicating history from her own mind. If there were any deterrent to using her magic, that was one. Though fear was not an emotion she was used to entertaining, her thoughts overwhelming her instincts, she felt it now and wanted it gone. Defeating Thranduil was not the goal here, not anymore. The remainder of their battle was about salvaging her sense of self and replacing shattered confidence with a wall of iron thicker than that around her heart.

Very little of her internal struggle expressed externally. Only the seeping blood of her coat and diverting anger belied the trauma sustained within, and she attacked more out of necessity than vengeance. Her teeth sank into his flesh, but instead of relishing his cries, they echoed in the vast emptiness of her heart. Emotions no longer responded naturally; they were a distant concept in a fog of destruction, and she was adrift on a sea of yearning.

The taste of his blood on her tongue did not inspire her inner demon to glorious praise, and she unlatched her jaws without the heart left to clench his windpipe and end him swiftly. She could not stand two deaths today. Instead, she turned one ear toward the sound of approaching steps, a quick glance through her soft, blue eye confirming a deer coming at her despite Tinek’s defenses. With a sidestep of her hips, she rocked her weight onto her forelegs, favoring her injured shoulder, and lashed out. Cloven hooves whistled through the air, hoping to make contact with the thing while Tinek was making his way closer.

She somehow managed to avoid the wayward deer only to run headlong into smoke and knives. Like burning green leaves, the sensation was overpowering. She coughed, eyes tearing up in response as she blindly threw herself against the harsh, cold blades upon her enemy’s body. Ophelia did not know where they connected or what they were from, but that did not much matter, not when they cut so deeply. The left and underside of her neck were flayed, flaps of skin hanging uselessly. White hide was separated like a sacrificial lamb to display the bloody transgression beneath.

Ophelia would not give him the satisfaction of a pained cry, and instead, she hitched in a gasping breath, jumping away as quickly as she could given the extent of her injuries. Every step was painful, and she tensed the top muscles of her neck for stability, hesitating anytime she was required to look to the right as it stretched the precariously attached sinew even wider – a hungry maw of her own flesh. Blood spiraled around her left foreleg, amplifying the brutal color of her own coat and coagulating there in rivulets of disgrace.

Tinek angrily roared, the deep resonant sound of a dragon’s howl inspiring fear and pride even in her own soul. He spread his wings and angled downward, releasing a torrent of ice and lightning from his jaws with the intention of seriously injuring Thranduil. Phi blinked away the fog, tears leaking from her eyes as the scene before her became clear once more, and she knew she had to see this fight to the end. With a quick prayer to her patron god, she turned her hips toward thranduil, kicking out at him this time. Snow scattered around her, the ice gathering in her wounds and numbing them mercifully. With any luck, she both hit him and kept her distance at once. Staying so close to him now was dangerous, and she would not turn this battle into a foolish decent into her own demise.

---------------------
(620 words in word) (1/3)
- Ophelia's neck is cut to ribbons by his armor
- She kicks out at le deer
- She kicks out at Thranduil
- Tinek tries to spark and ice Thranduil




Coding by Tamme with credits to Sevin | Art by Yewrezz


@Thranduil




Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.


Please tag me in every response!

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#3



 Everything turned to lathered sweat and strain. The battle decomposed from testing strength, to testing stamina. The golden’s collar shoves back against him, signaling it had met flesh. The scent of her, brought back his senses. Ophelia. A stealth. A challenge. The ends of his lips curled up again in a satisfaction no sane creature could match. Cloven hooves dug into the now muddy ground, trying to find the traction to draw the scream for her lips. To hear the red mare regret all.

Yet battles change ever so quickly. No scream came, and the smirk fell just as quickly as it had risen for a mighty wallop sounded in front of him. A hitch clinched the golden’s chest but not from any pain he felt. A black shadow is sacked back against the earth behind the mare. Haldir! It was the first true panic that ever came from that side of the bond. The dark stag staggered, and fell to the earth, a ring of mud on his side. The deer’s vision was blurred and for a moment all his senses were cancelled by the still foreign senses of pain screaming all about his body.

Idiot! The golden cried, but it’s unclear who he’s insulting. Haldir was unready for battle, the golden never seeing the point of preparing the peace minded deer. Yet now... The gold pulls up, his blades disengaged. The battle was wearing on him, for now in the slush created, his legs tremble to hold himself and the armor. The weight could not be born much longer given his exhaustion from this battle and those prior with Tingal, yet his focus was on the deer. Haldir! Now it was a command. A mix of volatile anger and panic pressed against his chest, but at last a broken reply whispers from the deer. Go on. Harks of the gold fall back, a hesitation. The first rule of fighting (by the golden’s education) was therefore broken, and fate dealt her punishment swiftly, bellowing a dragon’s howl.

The frozen hell from above did not miss its mark. The armor took the brunt of the ice attack, but still its metal surface froze the worn gold into immobility. He had barely time to be confused, let alone find the attack’s source, before the lightening crack down. Mouth opened, ready to cry out in agony, but his vocals were struck silent by the overwhelming current leaping from the metal and arching across the tips of the armor. Exhaustion, electric shock, and maddening pain threatened him, leaving no other choice. Like a plea it comes out pained, and soft, “Daro.”

Metal, jumping with the electricity, folds ungracefully back up as the assault of the dragon moved off. The damage from the attack left burns on the golden coat, and a burnt strand upon his circlet. He stumbles sideways right, slipping on the snowy slush, away from Ophelia (missing to even notice her kick). Then he stilled for a second. Every muscle shakes and trembles as agony pounds into him with every heartbeat. Haldir… The dark stag is no longer lying down though, but standing, off, having moved back. His breath and mobility hitched by a cracked rib, and his defense nothing but a cloud of his own magic, yet his mind was returned. Not over The deer reminded his bonded. The golden’s mind was spinning. What was this again? A spar? For nothing? No. Not nothing. A flex of muscle had he called it? A deep bellowing laughter rolled out from the shocked vocals. He always did like following up a good threat. Maybe he was going mad. Madmen do have all the best fun after all.

The golden exhales as his head rose, letting gears release. The earth eyes look for the dragon and its keeper not expecting them to have remained still even in those few seconds. Yet he did not wait to know for certain. It would find them. Golden form fell away, coat shifting, till the large elephantine Tembovu stood tall. Only he was not idle. Already the elephant king’s head was tucked and teeth grit in concentration as within the golden was reaching for an orb. This one, hard coated and pulsating with heat, would not open. Haldir, seeing the changing battle and immobile gold calls, Thranduil, watch out! There lay the key. The call sparked the anger at the deer (at himself for letting the deer be here, be kicked, be unprotected) and the orb within broke open. No, lashed out open. A hot wild flame, untamable and unyielding leapt forth, trumpeting and hell bent on burning all around it. Blue eyes, though still pained by the hidden burns, lift to see it, stepping back carefully away, yet grinning all the same, to see the destruction unleashed. 

OOC::
WC:: 799
ATK:: 2/3
INJURIES:: Slow from Tingal, Small shallow scratch 4" long on shoulder, bite mark, bruised and cut along edges on the underside of his neck, burns across various parts where metal armor touched
Haldir-cracked ribs on right side
Identities:: Erebos, Tembovu
Items:: Circlet (polearm, Moon amulet(containing Ashamin's heart magic))
SUMMARY:: Haldir is kicked by Ophelia cracking his ribs, and while Thranduil is distracted Tinek's frost and shock attack hits. Thranduil closes his armor and stumbles away from Ophelia, then transforms into Tembovu releasing his magma elephant magic. He steps back to avoid it himself.



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Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.
Ascended Helovian

Ophelia the Amaranthine Posts: 701
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath Tamme
#4


"Where worlds collide, blood divides
When darkness falls, fate calls"
Ophelia felt her hooves connect successfully with the beast who approached her, the resounding snap a hollow trumpet of victory as she navigated the battle, neck being torn into pieces. The entire left and underside of her neck was gashed in red swatches so stark against her pale skin. Even the furious coloration of her passive magic seemed to blanch through the pain as flaps of flesh hung uselessly around her chest. The tears welling in her eyes were blinked away quickly, the droplets warping her universe in a detrimental fashion, and she did not want any more injures in this battle – not when the ones she sported now were so very deep.

Tinek gave her what she needed most – time. The smell of burning flesh made her crinkle her mousy, gray nostrils as she rounded to face her opponent once more, and watched the deer she kicked begin to rise from where he had fallen. There was no resounding cry of satisfaction from her inner beast, and no emotional response to this small victory. As she watched the labored, antlered beast rise, she felt absolutely nothing at all. Numb. All that remained was simple survival and basic instinct, and she honed in on those facets of her personality while trying her best to ignore the pain.

As she negotiated the snowy terrain, kicking up mercifully chilled earth into her bleeding wounds, she came to a sliding halt as her gaze landed upon her opponent. His figure began to twist and warp as she skid, recoiling and keeping her distance while she re-evaluated her final battle maneuvers. Thranduil wasn’t just looking like another, he was literally turning into her former king, Tembovu. Ophelia’s lips parted slightly as she took in this new information, strange, two-toned gaze sweeping the massive form.

How many could he turn into? Was he copying her now? Phi narrowed her eyes as she swished her tail around her hocks, limping slightly as she watched magic burst forth from the changling she was fighting. Hot magma (was this Tembovu’s power?) like a behemoth creature with tusks burst her way, and she grit her teeth as her cloven hooves made purchase on the sloppy ground beneath her hooves.

One hind hoof slid out, and she landed hard on her injured leg, seconds before the blast came her direction. The fire burned at the flaps of skin around her neck, cauterizing the wounds and licking at her left side. Ophelia gathered all her strength in her haunches to leap out of perdition and back into the impartial cold of heaven, but the flames gathered around her fetlocks. So hot were the burns afflicted on her hind legs, they hissed and sputtered when she landed back in the snow. White steam rose for the seconds following, and she struggled to clear the alarm bell howling in her head.

Cold. No emotion. Winter. You are winter.

She tried to repeat this mantra in her head as she groaned, heading directly for this not-Tembovu with her horn bared. Come hell or high water, she was going to make some impression, even if she wound up destroyed in the process. Survival was paramount, but she could not drop this fight. Ophelia was not going to give up. Giving no time for her hind legs to ache, she let the cool mud coat them in all their agony as she swung her head, pulling at the gashes in her neck as she aimed to slice Thanduil’s thicker, taller neck.

As she moved away from him, not giving a single second within the blades around his neck, she swung out with her injured hind legs, hoping to deter him from following. Tinek followed suit, covering her back with a spray of frost and even going so far as to freeze Ophelia’s neck. The burned and bloody wounds on her neck were then frozen, no longer bleeding and giving her a modicum of hope for the future of this battle.

With whispers of her magic, she sought out his mind. “Lets dig deeper, shall we?” she murmured, hopefully only in the recesses of his mind. “Show me what you’re hiding…” Ophelia trailed off, starting what she hoped would be a thorough perusal of his very mind while he was distracted by this battle.

---------------
(717 words in word) (2/3)
- Hind legs and left side burned by the mamga
- Aims to cut his neck with her horn
- Kicks out at him
- Tinek covers her back with a frost breath

(omg made it with an hour to spare ;-; )



Coding by Tamme with credits to Sevin | Art by Yewrezz



@Thranduil




Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.


Please tag me in every response!

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#5



All the world was washed away in fire, flame, and pain. The roaring magma creature trumpeted forth but given its ferocity, and the golden’s foreign control of it, there was little to curb its lust for destruction including the image of its own maker. The Amaranthine leapt from her destruction, and furious the elephant spins, reaching out with its trunk. Memories returned of the explosive contact that day on the Flats and the gold only got in a quick “Fuck” before his genius plan literally backfires.

One last trumpet sounded in fury as the trunk touched the fine white legs and the whole figure burst. Blue eyes shut and he turned way, but it was too late. Magma splattered on his front left, showering his shoulder in a few projectiles of molten rock. A hiss sings through the air as his whole body tried to shake free for the high viscosity of the magma. Concentration stolen, the illusion of the elephant king could not hold together and glitched off.

The golden’s head swam for a second, pulsating with every heartbeat the scent of his own burnt flesh, agony of lightening and flame, and complete exhaustion. His front left leg hung limp from the ruined shoulder, and blood trailed down. Whereas the bells were sounding in Ophelia’s head, the golden’s was growing quieter. If he pressed on it would be dead silent, so the end had to be near. The end A pale whisper of the stag’s voice drew the word to the gold’s attention. Broken as he was on side of the fray, he still watched.  A wash of fresh air broke over the golden’s agony at the reminder. Yes, the battle was ending, and there would soon be a time when the gold could step back, see Ophelia’s mutilated body and feel the surging vengeance for his own. His head rose, pulling forth all reserves, to see the charge of the Amaranthine.

The gold dove from the attack. Had it been just his own effort he wouldn’t have escaped unscathed from her blade, but the snow had turned to mud, and in his exhaustion he slid to the left. The blade raked on the gold coat of his right shoulder, but only gained a few gold hairs for its effort. It cost him for the burnt flesh opened like the decomposing maw of a corpse and let flow free his blood. He had little time to grieve the blood loss as, immobile in his strain to remain standing from the slip, two hooves lash out and sack his right side, knocking him sideways. Breath hitched and his face contorted in pain. The mud slapped wound hid the internal damage of bruised muscle and bone. The woman was not done though. In the depth of his mind her voice whispered soft but clear.

Harks pinned back but her threats find nothing to grip to in him. Instead, drug deep by the fray, his voice bellowed a growing dark laughter. Wasn’t she the one hiding from the world in her little hole of love? Had not her own attempts to bear forth her blade been missed? He collected himself from his slide, shaking his crowned head in his humor. It may indeed have been maddening to sit in that cave and do nothing, and he may have claimed his current state sane through this, its opposite, but in reality it seemed the gold was just going from one state of madness to another. He had to, for the sanity in the middle held realizations about rosen ghosts that he dared not even glimpse at.

“Pathetic. Darling look at you.” His voice, though cracked with exhaustion and pain, still rung with the venous lightness of his madness. “Haven’t you learned? Fight for the valor of love, but honey, you’ll find the heart is a weak and pathetic organ.” He stepped forward, a black stone set in his circlet awoke. Haldir, sensing the plan, protested, thinking it to be hypocritical and unfair, but his was too weak to distract the gold. A grin, tight with the strains of battle, rose on the Laurelin’s face. “Here, let me show you.” Ashamin’s stolen magic lashed out, reaching out with electric tips to try and speed up the beating organ in her chest. As the black stone shattered he beckoned forth again his own magic, sending forth darkness again to cloud her sight. Black dots threaten his vision with the effort but with a wicked grin he hissed with bitterness, “After all, love is blind.” Though he was the blindest of all.

All this he does, but makes not a step more towards her. In the beginning, and still now the gold’s greatest desire was never to see her blood, but to see her fall.

OOC:: Permission for Ophelia to see any of the following memories: Not this thread, but the memory written within it, You Have Something of Mine , Blood Diamonds, Stakes are High, Bets are In, I Found Love Where it Wasn't Supposed to Be
WC:: 799
ATK:: 3/3
INJURIES:: Slow from Tingal, Small shallow scratch 4" long on shoulder, bite mark, bruised and cut along edges on the underside of his neck, burns across various parts where metal armor touched, Scattered burns on left shoulder, bruised right side
Haldir-cracked ribs on right side
Identities:: Erebos
Items:: Circlet (polearm, Moon amulet(containing Ashamin's heart magic))
SUMMARY:: Is burned by the ending of the magma elephant and transforms back into himself. Slides to the left away from Ophelia's horn but is clipped by her hooves. Uses Ashamin's heart magic in his MOON AMULET to attempt to speed up her heart, and attempts his blinding magic again.




@Ophelia

[Image: 5381546acbe33]
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.
Ascended Helovian

Ophelia the Amaranthine Posts: 701
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath Tamme
#6


"Where worlds collide, blood divides
When darkness falls, fate calls"
Ophelia dug her cloven hooves into the ground as Tinek’s chilling breath swam over her body, rending her refreshed for her final push. Strange, two colored eyes darted back to see Thranduil’s magic backfire, but she still uttered no cry of pleasure or vengeance at his pain. As far as she was concerned, this had gone on long enough and emotions had very little to do with the beat down they were laying on each other. Whatever pent-up hatred lay between then was seeping out too far, and she shoved her way into his head, doing what she knew best: stealing memories.

With some forethought, she shoved her memory erasing magic into one of her final sun amulets, knowing that the battle she wanted to wage now was internal and not external. If she could give herself time to escape his physical retaliation, she could do more harm ripping through his head than she could with her battered body. Tinek lowered his silver form in front of her and flapped, and his menacing red eyes tracked the golden devil with a hatred surging through his hot dragon’s blood. How Ophelia could not feel the same, he did not know, but right now he was seething.

The sound of his voice was grating and pathetic, and she smiled radiantly in response to his words, ripping through his head memory by memory. His words, meant to harm, rolled off of her without touching her healthy heart. He may be in the ruins of love, but she was guarded by hers. The affections she felt for Torleik and the knowledge that he loved her in return was her greatest shield, and nothing could break through the bond she had forged with that hairy, devilish stallion.Her body was shaking with pain and she felt her heart start to beat heavily. Why, she didn’t know, but it was getting thunderous.

“You think yourself better, do you?” she whispered almost lovingly in tone. “Love is strength. Love is power. Love is knowing who you wake up to in the morning and knowing that you will never be alone again.” The pressure in her chest was hard, sweat flowing over the curves of her body. Must be magic… Tinek growled and exhaled frost to her body, simultaneously cooling her down and trying to force her heart to beat more slowly.

Her earthly vision left her then, but she didn’t care. She was far too concerned with his very memories. There, she saw the culmination of his lies in a single being: Hotaru. How interesting this development between the girl she had thought of highly when she was queen of the Basin and this wretched, gilded creature before her now. Hotaru deserved better, but the heart did not consider logic very often. She could feel her body growing weak even as she watched, unable to control the heavy beating of her heart.

“You lie to yourself as easily as you lie to me. Hotaru offers her affections and offers her heart to you. She is willing to take even a wretch like you beneath the tender care of her words and love, and yet here you are, denying your own heart,” she whispered in his mind. Ophelia ripped off the sun amulet, casting it in his direction and scrambling backward, still blind. She wanted out of his reach and hoped to erase her position again to ensure her safety as she continued to focus on his mind. “You say love is blind? But you are the one who is not seeing. How afraid you are to give yourself over to another, maybe because you have nothing left to give but fragments, nothing whole.”

The blindness was starting to fade, and she circled him in pain. “I thought the same, Thranduil – that giving my shattered heart to another was a burden and a curse, but I was wrong. Loving isn’t weakness; it’s strength. Spew your words at me, but they will not hurt. Call me names, but I know you are wrong. Torleik by my side is my strength, and right now? You are the weak one. Weak because you cannot speak your feelings to the one creature in this universe who wants you as you are…”

Ophelia shifted now, threatening. “So tell me, Thranduil… do you want me to rip her from your head entirely? Or will you face the truth?” The Amaranthine stood with her elegant jaw lifted high, shoulders square and even despite the pain of her shattered body causing her worked muscles to shake. Torleik then swooped down, exhaling a breath of static, intent on either shocking him into reality or keeping him from physically lashing out at his already damaged bonded.


------------
(3/3) (792 words in word)
- The heart magic causes her sweat and pain
- takes the blunt of his blinding magic through almost the entire post
- searches his mind and uses the memories Hawk gave me permission to see in the last post
- uses her SUN AMULET with her memory removing magic to erase her position and hide her so she can focus on his brains
- Tinek tries to shock him at the end of the post

I hope this helps your plotting, hawk!!! D: And good fight. Thank you for your patience ;-;

Also Ashamin has 2 heart magics (both of them spark), so I chose the first on the list because I didn't know which one you had D:



Coding by Tamme with credits to Sevin | Art by Yewrezz




Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.


Please tag me in every response!

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#7



Deliverance of the golden’s threat was swift, and he gloated over her sagging body with a vicious satisfaction. Haldir’s worn face, battered by the realities he had found this day, looks away in anguish.

Only, as Thranduil seemed to keep forgetting (with help from Ophelia), this wasn’t a weak babe. Her smile taints his, souring it slightly, as her voice enters into the fray again. A humored huff leaves his dried lips. Could she be so foolish? “Of course.” He had not a chain here to limit the reach of blade, or call him in from night’s of devil’s work. Was her body night dyed in red and his still gold (between burns)?

The red mare was quiet, and the golden rushed with victory, though prematurely. For in the sweeping relief and his half dead body the golden had left the gates of his mind unchecked, the footprints of the Amaranthine began to appear.

An unbeckoned thought of a rosen ghost whispered through his thoughts. The smile on his lips fell slightly, his harks leaning back. He hesitated for a moment, unsure. She comes stronger, words of memories whispering. It brought the gold to a stupor state, why was she there? Nothing of this concerned….His head shook like trying to be free, but it only served to set him off balance, and his hooves spread wide to catch himself. The impact of her vision was having more affect than the gold could rationalize and he didn’t know why-

Ophelia solved the mystery before him. Her voice calling out what the gold’s mind never could on its own. Hotaru offered her heart…Then the earth eyes opened wide. She- She had looking at his memories. “Thief!” His voice hissed, but it fell short. The mare’s magic working enough this last attack to vanish her form again. He was left to his thoughts. And her words. His accusations of her were snatched by the overwhelming impact of the hit. It couldn’t be. But Hotaru (gods how the name stung his lips) had said it. Yes that’s right that day…But he couldn’t- Surely it hadn’t. Impossible. He had sworn. It was shattered. But it had been remade?….Oh gods….

He loved her. Not the golden, but Thranduil, he, the real he, loved Hotaru.  The gold was a panic, his head fell, and whole body began to shake.

The wicked voice slipped in again, this time worse: nothing left to give but fragments. A look of terror, shot through him. How?- No! The doors had been thrown open, the light of Ophelia’s flooding the sacred, dust covered corner to find the shattered organ of burden still there. And she was using it against him. A roar like from a wounded bear sounds, and the gold visibly shrunk back and away. His whole being trying to shut out the voice, the truth, but it was inescapable. His nightmare, a weapon of truth, of knowing, bearing down upon him. The armor of the gold, his lies, were at last fully ripped away, and the weak soul beneath revealed to the world.

She speaks on and it drones maddeningly in his head. Who wants you as you are….”ENOUGH!” The cornered animal lashes out, desperate. He cannot back up his anger though, his body too far gone, and he shrinks again. The bitter truth of the words eating up what little strength is body had left.

Her threat is now delivered, and the gold’s body shivers anew. Rip it away? He lurches away from his invisible attacker. No….She couldn’t take them…It was now not just Hotaru who stormed in his mind, but a white ghost, pure as light. And it was the worse attack of all. Her gold eyes shown on his soul and his knees quivered and eyes closed.

You see, the pieces of that broken heart, for it was indeed broken, had not been left in the dark corner alone. Like a shrine, it had been placed upon a pedestal, kept company, and even cradled. Those shattered pieces had known as much love as the day they were once whole, for in the end, the gold still loved her. Thranduil still loved his pure Arwen. The horror of a new love was wounding, but the threat of losing the light angel with the rose, was the final nail the golden’s coffin.  

“N-no…” It comes out like nothing anyone in this world had heard. It came out broken, pained, but from a heart. A wave of weariness washed over him as the last drops of adrenaline and vanity were leaving his system. His voice became just faint a disconnected whisper.  “I need her…I need A-rwen.” The name cracked across his lips, and the golden’s battle died with it on the breeze. He stumbles sideways, and lumbers north.

OOC:: WE FINISHED THE UNFINISHED BUSINESS!!
WC:: 798
ATK:: DEF
INJURIES:: Slow from Tingal, Small shallow scratch 4" long on shoulder, bite mark, bruised and cut along edges on the underside of his neck, burns across various parts where metal armor touched, Scattered burns on left shoulder, bruised right side
Haldir-cracked ribs on right side
Identities:: Erebos
Items:: Circlet (polearm)
SUMMARY:: Basically stands where he is while Ophelia talks and circles. He looses sight of her due to her magic, and can not see her. At the end he walks drunkenly north. 



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

THRANDUIL
Realism [3.5]
For the most part you did a good job translating the rolls into damage taken but I was a little confused about the damage taken in P3 from his own attack. “Memories returned of the explosive contact that day on the Flats and the gold only got in a quick “Fuck” before his genius plan literally backfires.” This line and the severity of the damage in descriptions that follow really make it seem as though there had been a critical miss but the rolls state that the attack hit Ophelia.

Good job including the environment around them, with the snow and then the slush created from their movements. It makes sense that it would be slippery beneath their hooves and it was good to see you use that both to help and hinder!


Emotion [2.5]
It was nice to see Thranduil be so concerned over Haldir’s well-being when the cerndyr was hurt, even if it was in his own special way! And I loved how he drew upon the bond to spark him to get moving in the second post at this point: “Haldir, seeing the changing battle and immobile gold calls, Thranduil, watch out! There lay the key. The call sparked the anger at the deer (at himself for letting the deer be here, be kicked, be unprotected) and the orb within broke open.”

One of my favourite thing about this fight is something I noticed in both characters - the sheer obsession that they both have at needing to finish this fight. It was definitely a gripping read! It’s so obvious so quickly how much this isn’t just another spar for them. One of my favourite lines demonstrating this: “Yes, the battle was ending, and there would soon be a time when the gold could step back, see Ophelia’s mutilated body and feel the surging vengeance for his own.”


Prose [1]
There were a few spelling mistakes and misuse of words that jumped out at me, some examples I’ve outlined below:
P1 paragraph 1: “Madness was defined by days pacing rock caves, and boarders” borders instead of boarders
P1 paragraph 2: Amarathine should be Amaranthine
P2 paragraph 4:  “before the lightening crack down” should be lightning
P3 paragraph 6: “Haldir, sensing the plan, protested, thinking it to be hypocritical and unfair, but his was too weak to distract the gold.” there should be a word after ‘his’ (his what was too weak?) or it should be ‘he was too weak’ instead

Be careful about sticking to one tense throughout your posts! I noticed that you switched between past and present tense enough that I wasn’t sure which one was the one you meant to use. As an example in P2 paragraph 5: “Metal, jumping with the electricity, folds ungracefully back up as the assault of the dragon moved off.” both present tense (‘folds’) and past tense (‘moved’) are used when it should be one or another since the folding and moving are happening at the same time.

P2 paragraph 4: “before the lightening crack down” should be ‘cracked’ or ‘cracks’ depending on which tense you’re meaning to use

Readability [1]
I found that you used a fair bit of unnecessary commas that added strange pauses to the sentences and were distracting from the flow of the post. Some examples:
P1 paragraph 1: “Madness was defined by days pacing rock caves, and boarders” (you’re only listing two things so a comma isn’t necessary)
P2 paragraph 1: “The battle decomposed from testing strength, to testing stamina” and “ The scent of her, brought back his senses”

P1 paragraph 3: “Tasseled tails flicked back and forth” Should be ‘tail’ as Thranduil only has one and there was no mention of anyone else as a subject.

P1 paragraph 7: “with damned grin and cruel intentions.” - should have an ‘a’ in front of damned

And just as a note, we use Microsoft Word for an official word count and your word counts were off when they were checked. Keep an eye on that for next time!

Finally tally: 37 + (8*2) = 53 HP


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

OPHELIA
Realism [3.5]
This was such a heavy-hitting spar as far as dice rolls go and you did a great job translating that into the damage that Ophelia took. She took all the hits that were coming to her! And it was a great touch adding Tinek freezing Ophelia’s burns - quick battle first aid to help her out in the midst of it and keep her going long enough to make it through alive.

Good job mentioning the surrounding of snow and ice and using it in your posts - I liked seeing that Ophelia lost her footing now and then as she moved and thought it was very appropriate considering her state and the setting!

There was just a little bit of continuity blip that drew my attention. In the first post, it was mentioned that her passive magic had been activated and her coat was red but for a moment, in the fourth paragraph, her “white hide” is mentioned before going back to describing it as red.

Emotion [2.5]
I loved the use of Ophelia’s emotion in these posts - or, in some parts, how much care she took to have no emotions. I particularly liked a few parts in the second post, such as her reaction to Haldir’s injuries “As she watched the labored, antlered beast rise, she felt absolutely nothing at all. Numb. All that remained was simple survival and basic instinct, and she honed in on those facets of her personality while trying her best to ignore the pain.” and the attack of “Tembovu’s” fire “Cold. No emotion. Winter. You are winter. She tried to repeat this mantra in her head as she groaned, heading directly for this not-Tembovu with her horn bared.”

I mentioned this for Thranduil as well but I got the sense from both of the characters involved in this fight that they were obsessed with finishing it, despite the effect it was having on them. It was a delight to read!

Prose [3]
With Ophelia’s severe injuries, I appreciated the poetic description of them - while still being appropriately gruesome considering what was happening. Such as in these parts: “White hide was separated like a sacrificial lamb to display the bloody transgression beneath.” and “Blood spiraled around her left foreleg, amplifying the brutal color of her own coat and coagulating there in rivulets of disgrace.” It’s not just blood running down her leg it’s disgrace, it’s weakness. I thought the language you used painted a detailed picture of not only the injuries, but how they were affecting her in mind and body.

I found the overall style that you used very effective at describing everything that was happening to Ophelia. There were a few mistakes that I found throughout the battle, outlined below:
P1, last paragraph: missing a capital on Thranduil’s name
P2, paragraph 1: “and she did not want any more injures in this battle” should be injuries
P2, last paragraph: “Lets dig deeper, shall we?” should be let’s


Readability [2.5]
For the most part, I found these posts very easy to read and understand.

Just one small mistake stood out to me in the third post: “devilish stallion.Her body” missing a space after the period.


Finally tally: 40.5 + (11.5*2) = 63.5 HP


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