| Outcast atk: 9 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5 |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2hh :: 8 HP: 61.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
| Gaz |
05-20-2013, 09:59 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-08-2013, 04:25 PM by Official.)
Murdock seemed rather prone to completely mental dreams lately. Night after night he would awake to foggy memories of the most curious and impossible escapades. Last night, he had stood in a field of violet grass surrounded by vibrant blue flowers with butterfly wings, and the night before he had stood amongst a forest of talking trees. His dreams provided an abundance of alternate realities he enjoyed living in, but nothing was quite as pleasant and comforting as his new home in the Foothills. He looked forward to sleeping in the depths of his cave every evening, but even more he awaited dawn with childish excitement.
Now, he looked out from the ledge of his cave, his limbs stiff from sleep and his eyes hardly half-open. His mind still spun from his last ethereal adventure, but he pushed it aside to admire the beauty of the morning. The sun had just crested the peaks of the Foothills, leaving the lower cliffs still shrouded in darkness as the light had yet to reach the floor of the valley. Frost clung to the thread-like branches at the base of the mountain, weak sunlight illuminating the ice crystals to give the trees thin haloes of gold.
He had chosen this cave on the cliff-face as his home for sentimental reasons, as he was a creature of habit and the dark cavern much like the one he had been raised in brought him comfort when comfort was scarce. However, a new day had arrived and its safety was no longer needed as far more interesting events lay ahead on the horizon. Today, Murdock had decided he would deviate from his pre-programmed path and do something different. He was bored with his aimless wanderings and arduous patrols, and he was eager to seek out some excitement.
Spreading his wings, he dropped off the ledge into the wind. His course was set north toward the Heavenly Fields where he hoped to acquire a sparring partner or perhaps simply a lively conversation. It had been weeks since he had last seen Chernobyl or even had a decent interaction with anyone, but he didn’t have time to fly up to the Steppe as often as he liked and his duties as an Executioner left him somewhat isolated. He would not dwell on such thoughts, however, and instead focused on the red and gold trees that passed beneath him as he fought the north wind higher into the sky.
The sun was warm upon his back despite the bite of the wind, but he continued upwards into thinner air and towards the distant shape of the fields. The sky was clear and blue save for the pale wisps of cirrus clouds high above, but despite the fair weather the wind was proving to be challenging to overcome. Finally, the edge of the meadow loomed closer and he angled his body down toward it, grateful to be ending his struggle with the head wind as he slipped across the air to land lightly among the golden grass. It wasn’t quite as beautiful as the purple grasses that had surrounded him in his dream, but it was a pleasant scene nonetheless.
He remained still for a few minutes, taking in the closeness of the sky and the warmth of the sun. He would’ve been content to simply stand in the centre of the field and take in the sights for the duration of the day, but that was not why he had come. Despite the lack of activity around his homeland, he was still oblivious to other occurrences that continued behind his back. He was still unaware of the presence of his ‘doppleganger’ and the confusion he was causing, but for how long would his opposite be able to cover his tracks?
Murdock turned his back to the sun and the wind, lifting his face toward the sky and inhaling the pure, thin air. The fields seemed to be empty save for himself, but he would soon find out if he was truly alone. Rearing up on his hind legs, he spread his wings and called out a challenge into the clear air. His voice rang out across the meadow as the strong wind seemed to sweep the sound away, pulling at his feathers and hair as it rushed past. Excitement and anticipation filled his chest as he waited hopefully and patiently, eager to test his fighting skills once more and get in some practice.
(OOC: 800 word maximum for posts, no magic or companions.
Setting – Heavenly Fields at dawn. The air is very cool and crisp with a strong wind coming from the north. The sky is clear and the sunlight is warm, and the ground is uneven and littered with rocks.
3 attack posts with 1 closing defense. Judged.)
"talk talk talk"
Wind me up, put me down
Start me off and watch me go
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Image Credit
| Dragon's Throat Healer |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1hh :: 5 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE |
| Lauren |
A N D R O M E D A
If you can find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn't lead anywhere.
-- Frank A. Clark
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Conversation is a tedious labyrinth of concocted words and crafted lies, sinister murmurs and delicate whispers, carefully posed questions and dark threats. If you dare to enter its perilous halls, you open yourself to a world of danger. A single wrong turn will led you to dead ends, doom yourself to awkward silences, bring yourself enemies or even, perhaps, create friends, if you are lucky. And if, perhaps, one is even more lucky, they may find they will easily, or not so easily, avoid the maze altogether. One day, I hope that I can once and for all find a way to truly and well convey the delicacies of a rippled wing or wrinkled muzzle, a way to cheat myself out of what I consider a jive. Perhaps I become a little theatrical. I am not so dramatically inclined to exaggerate everything I say- in other words, I am by no means a thespian- but I must honestly say I was rather... climatic about the whole manner of gossip and chit-chats. Simply, I'm not quite as inclined to engage as quickly as other horses in Helovia, and for most part, it works quite fine, for it seems my silence is almost contagious to a great many I have communicated with. I say communicate because, well, I haven't always talked.
I flex my primaries, opening them wider to catch the warm heat spiraling upwards from below, and up I glide, enjoying the simple, familiar movements that come easily to me from thousands of repetitions and years upon years of evolution.
The wind is gentle, but with a peaceful wariness I notice the way the clouds are scudded, rippling horse tails, a sign of high altitude wind. My heart twists as a sudden memory of torrential rain and mud, of falling into water and feeling its clammy hands squeezing my lungs, and though the sky is blue my mouth goes dry, and down I soar, my feathers crimping slightly in the brisk breeze. That night in the rain might've been the worse night I've experienced in all my years. Honestly, I wasn't even sure it had been during the night; the lashing rain had wiped away all sense of reality, sight, scent, hearing, and even touch, I had been so soaked and so chilled.
It is then I hear the bugle, the trumpeting challenge, and at about a hundred feet from touching down I snap back my wings, straining the muscles and wincing, startling horrendously by the sudden sound, and my eyes seek out the challenger. Flaring my sails, I catch the wind, and hesitantly drift downwards, circling ever more slowly, ears flicking backwards uncertainly. I say, however, I am pleased to skip over the treacherous introduction. My hooves touch down, and I land exceedingly graceful for once, light wind toying with my charcoal mane and tail. I pose a stunningly serene smile at the stallion, as if I had not a care in the world, and wonder if he would fall for such deception, if he would realize I met to put him off guard. I'm not a particularly vindictive individual, not at all, and I dislike deception, but part of this is a simple test. After all, I would not have landed unless I was willing to respond to his bold declaration of seeking battle.
I think we are evenly matched, perhaps me even at advantage, for he is slim and of the same height, while I am more muscular even though I am a mare. Power I may hold more, but speed will be on his side. I like this. An even playing field, and that means it will come down more to the mental aspect than regular brute muscle.
I shan't offer my name, not until we commence this, and, keeping my wings neatly tucked to my dark sides, dance forward, light-footed, the soothing rhythm of my heart beating swift in my charcoal chest. To my right I twist, snapping open my left wing and aiming a buffet of my wing to his neck. For if I had wished to flutter at his head, I risk a snap of his teeth at my plumage.
Second, I shift my weight, tucking my wing back tight to the flank, and lash out to aim at the soft flesh of his shoulder, hoping to give him a solid bruising, but never will there be garuntees in battle. Bruises may hurt, but they certainly would not break him. The earth is solid under my hooves, stoic and ungiving under me, and I am glad there is no rain to slip me up.
Inhale, exhale. Just breathe.
I am overjoyed to play once more; to forget whatever complications trouble me during the day, and just live in the moment.
WC: 796
Post: 1/3 not including defense post
Summary: Runs to his left, her right, lashes out at his neck with her wing, angles herself and kicks out at his shoulder. My first battle post ever! :D
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| Outcast atk: 9 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5 |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2hh :: 8 HP: 61.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
| Gaz |
The dying echo of his voice finally faded from the fields, carried away by the chill winds of Orangemoon to return silence to the skies. The air remained still for moments longer as Murdock scoured the heavens, emerald eyes searching the sea of pale blue for any signs of an airborne assailant. His muscles quivered slightly with excitement, though his search had not yet been rewarded; he was eager to put his skills to the test once more and take his mind off the miserable cold that came with the wind. Finally, he caught sight of a dark shape descending toward him, a daunting black raven awash with starlight.
All at once, he forgot the curious dreams that had occupied the back of his mind, though his eyes couldn’t help but linger on the creamy splashes of galaxies that stretched across her shoulder. It was game time now, and he was determined to keep his abstract mind focused on this task. Stepping back into the wind, he kept his head tilted upward to focus on her body. They were equal in size despite her heavier build, but Murdock considered her bulk as an advantage for him; he was easily more aerodynamic and swift, and as such he hoped to chase circles around her in the skies.
Her landing was remarkably graceful, which came as a surprise when her build was put into consideration. A crooked smile split across his lips as she met his gaze, but he was too slow to realize her friendly guise was a distraction; only when she stepped toward him without another word did it dawn upon him that he had been deceived. In their moment of proximity he caught the dusty scent of sand off her coat, bringing back memories of his last spar in the Heart. The mare who had heeded his call then was also of the Throat, and as such he hoped some of the same tricks he had used would be just as effective on this new opponent.
The Hanoverian danced toward him lightly, but by now he had already guessed at her game and took a few cautionary steps back. He was too slow, however, and before he knew it she had spun to his left. His muscles clenched instinctively as a blur of feathers entered his view, growing ever closer as her left wing was aimed for his neck. He had experienced a variety of attacks utilizing hooves, teeth and pure body weight, but having a wing thrown toward his face was entirely new. He recoiled from the leading edge of her wing, throwing his weight to the right away from her body as his head was ducked down reflexively to avoid impact, a brush of coarse feathers against air signaling the passing of her appendage.
His forehooves left the frosted earth momentarily as his weight was shifted back, his momentum carrying his body further toward the right as his wings splayed for balance. He opened his eyes when her feathers were out of range, his face relaxing from the astonished grimace that he had worn moments earlier. She was certainly a clever adversary, and he welcomed a challenge of his mind as well as his body. It was clear he would have to be a little more creative with his attacks to gain the upper hand, and he was eager to let his imagination take the reins.
As he recovered regained his composure, his heart still hammering against the walls of his chest from the adrenaline, the mare took advantage of his residual confusion to strike out once more. He was unprepared for her attack in his distraction, and her rear hoof struck the muscle of his left shoulder right on target. Pain followed half a second later, spreading rapidly from the area of impact and further clouding his mind. Desperately trying to distance himself from the mare lest she embarrass him further, he sidestepped to the right until there was a good six feet between them.
Grunting slightly against the dull ache of his shoulder, he turned to face her with a wry smile. He was about to turn the tables now, once and for all. Leaning back onto his hindquarters, he launched himself forward with wings tucked in against his sides and neck outstretched toward her torso. The wing joints were a sensitive location, so he had learned from experience, and as such he singled out the base of her left wing as his target. He slammed on the brakes at the last second so as to not barrel straight into her, his weight rocking forward as he reached out with his teeth to attempt to clamp onto her flesh.
Without hesitation, he twisted to the right and pushed off once more, hoping she wouldn’t move far so his second attack would land as he planned. As he passed her flank, he leaned forwards with the help of his wings, pushing his weight onto his forehand as his hind legs lifted up off the earth. He kicked out for her left cannon, hoping to slow her down for a moment. Breaking into a swift lope, he brushed through the frost-laced grass toward the cliffs. Spreading pale wings as he gained speed, he lifted off into the icy air and rose quickly into the north wind. He loved to fly, and he was taking this spar to the air where they were both at home.
(Summary: Murdock leaps to the right and ducks his head to avoid her attack with her wing. Her kick strikes him on the left shoulder, and he quickly puts some distance between them. He turns to face her and lunges off of his back legs, sliding to a stop by her left shoulder and attempting to bite her left wing joint. Then, he turns to the right and runs along her side, pausing as he passes her flank to kick out for her left hind cannon bone. He then continues out into the field and lifts off into the air.
Attack 1/3
Defense 0/1)
"talk talk talk"
Wind me up, put me down
Start me off and watch me go
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Image Credit
| Dragon's Throat Healer |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1hh :: 5 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE |
| Lauren |
A N D R O M E D A
If you can find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn't lead anywhere.
-- Frank A. Clark
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The coarse edge of my primaries meet no resistance. A flicker of disappointment flashes through my body, a little twist of my heart. I shouldn't be so disappointed, not that petty, but I'm embarrassed to say I am. While my competitive side was rare, it was there- I wanted to win, I wanted to show up this stallion. I was still young, after all, and relatively inexperienced to someone like Kri. Now, the Commander was someone I admired. She was a warrior, a bold and logical fighter, and she knew what she was doing, incredibly knowing in her job. I hope that I could spar with her one day- I would love for her to teach me and help me hone my skills. I was a sergeant. I needed to be there to help train soldiers and do my best to protect the herd, no matter how tough it might be. Surely it would be worth the blood and sweat in the end to be able to face down mighty opponents like the Sultana could.
He pulled away from me, even quicker than I expected, and a soft grunt escaped my lips. Even as I lashed out, I knew it would be a stretch, but it must not have been too far, for my hind hooves landed squarely on his shoulder. Triumph surged over the former disappointment, only strengthening my resolve to do well.
Once again I evaluated his size and litheness. It would be so very difficult to rely on any physical comparisons. The subtleties in our variations would hardly factor into the fight. In other words, I must be quick to think and think creatively! I tried staying light on my feet. If I were to try and simply use my bulk, it would be very difficult to shift out of the way quickly and efficiently. Energy conservation was another important part of battle, especially in extended battles or, gods forbid, war. Managing more simple movements if possible would be better than elaborate circling and shifting and intricate dance.
He puts distance between us, and another little jolt of joy strikes me. I laugh quietly, reveling in the wondrous feeling of being at ease, running and frolicking. Even as I shift, pivoting on my hindquarters to face him once more, he charges head on at me. My eyes trail over his handsome form, marveling at the green edge of his wings. He was rather handsome, wasn’t he? I wondered what his name was. The gentle scent of forests and mountains heralded him from being in the Foothills, but that didn’t give me any clue to what title his parents had gifted him with.
This moment of distraction leaves me realizing of his charge later than I would hope.
Green- I decided to call him- shifted to my left, coming to a halt. It was this stop that allowed me to hop away, muscles tensing as my body curled into an awkward crescent, bulging away from him, left legs coming together while my right legs braced myself. My ears are not pinned- I enjoy this too much- instead slanted back, even as I shift my left wing up and pull it back. His teeth graze my median under wing coverts, plucking three dark shadowed feathers. I squeal, half in pain and half in insult. Think of it, humans, like a clump of hair being pulled from your skull. It’s a small pain, but a hard one, stinging dreadfully.
I know a couple of missing coverts won’t hurt my flying, however.
As he begins moving forward again, Green lashes out at my left hind cannon bone. Knowing the fragility of my leg bones, I inwardly curse him and his scummy low blow, even if Cirrus probably could heal me in a jiffy. Instead, I pop up my hindlegs, crow-hopping a step or two away, and I whirl around, watching him leap to the blue skies. My wings snap open, ready to pursue, and up I jump up. I’ve never fought aerial before- I hope I will do okay.
I flap my wings hard, hoping to gain more altitude than him so I may drop down from above. The sky is somewhat clear, a light brisk breeze a-blowing. If I manage to rise above him, I will try to drop and swish my tail in his face, before moving upwards again. On the other hand, if I can’t get above him, I’ll trying knocking upwards with my right wing to his left, to push him off balance and send him flailing downwards.
WC: 761
Post: 2/3 not including defense post
Summary: Okay, so a little uncertain about how aerial would work, but in any case... Andromeda curves away from him, lifting up her wing, so his teeth catch a couple of feathers rather than the joint. Then she crow-hops (jumps sideways), avoiding the kick at her legs. When she takes to the sky, I didn't want to say she got higher or lower than him (not sure if that would be powerplaying or not?). So if she gets above, then she'll drop down and flick her tail in his face, then rise. If she falls below, she'll try and come up even to him and knock him in his left wing, so pushing him off-balance and maybe forcing him into free-fall.
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| Outcast atk: 9 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5 |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2hh :: 8 HP: 61.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
| Gaz |
Frosted grass snaked around his thin legs as he raced toward her, his head reaching out in hopes of landing a bite at the base of her wing. She recoiled quicker than he had expected, however, and her body curled away from him as his teeth neared her wing. Though he didn’t make his target, he came away with a mouthful of dark, downy feathers. He shook his head violently as he changed directions, pushing off to carry on past her as he spat the feathers from his mouth. Perhaps he should start collecting trophies from those he fought, but that would be far too egotistical for him; he was too modest and carefree, only seeking out a spar for practice or enjoyment.
As the small feathers danced away in the wind behind him, he lashed out for her left canon bone. His hoof only met air, however, as she crow hopped out of his reach. He figured she must have some experience with fighting, though there was no way to tell for sure, but her reflexes were impressive and a sure source of frustration for him. He was not sparring with her with any intentions of causing injury, though still one had to make contact for anything to count. Still, despite his training, restraint could be difficult if you got carried away.
As he carried on through the golden grass and pale, wilted flowers, lifting off into the cool air to take their spar to the skies, he didn’t have to look back to know she was pursuing. The great sweeping sound of her dark wings soon grew louder in his ears as she grew closer, and he banked to the right to avoid her. Muted amber and emerald past beneath his hooves as he soared over the fields, his wings riding smoothly over the calm air of Orangemoon as he rose toward the vast blueness of the sky.
Though his mind had wandered to the beauty of the fields around him, he had not forgotten about the dark shadow that was rising swiftly above him. He tipped his head backward to locate her, his muscles tensing in shock as he realized just how close she had managed to get. Lowering his gaze back to his track, he pitched downward in an effort to escape her pursuit, but all too soon she had descended upon him. Suddenly, his vision became a flurry of black and white as she lowered herself before him. His wings beat frantically against the air in a vain attempt to slow himself, his left shoulder muscle aching in protest.
With a loud smack the tangled edges of her hair struck him across the face. He gasped, tucking his head into his chest as he recoiled from her reach. The bridge of his nose stung terribly as though he had been scratched by thorns, though little damage had done. ‘What a girl!’ he thought, as his face burned as though he had been slapped. With his eyes squinted shut, he had lost his bearings and suddenly he felt himself tipping to the side. Throwing his wings out to catch the air, he righted himself and glanced up to catch sight of her rising away once more.
So far, the tobiano had startled him with all sorts of maneuvers he had never guessed would be so effective. In his ‘career’, he had only experienced attacks involving hooves and teeth and the occasional body slam. However, wings and tails had suddenly become weapons to be feared. As such, he decided to experiment with some untested methods of his own. Once he had his sights set on her once more, he pulled his wings back to slow his airspeed. Gradually, he attempted to fall behind her, waiting until the right moment to make his move.
Spreading his wings out, he beat them against the thin air to rise up toward the clouds. His goal was to get above her and once again match her speed, so that she was a mere few feet beneath him. Provided he was successful in this, he would move slightly to her left side, bringing his right wing down hard in an attempt to force her left wing down. Hopefully, this move would set her off balance and put her in the perfect position for his neck attack. Without waiting to see if he had been successful, Murdock tucked his wings in against his body so they wouldn’t get in the way, and fell into a dive. His body was aimed for hers in hopes that he could further set her off course, but for now he was at the mercy of the wind and his own weight.
(Summary: Andromeda manages to rise above him and successfully strikes him in the face with her tail. Murdock is disorientated and loses some altitude while struggling to gain his bearings. He allows her to pass in front of him after she climbs into the sky once more, then attempts to rise above her and match her speed. He comes up on her left side, beating his right wing down and trying to hit her left wing to cause her to lose balance. Then, he folds his wings into his body and enters a dive, hoping to collide with her on the way down.
Attack 2/3
Defense 0/1)
"talk talk talk"
Wind me up, put me down
Start me off and watch me go
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Image Credit
| Dragon's Throat Healer |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1hh :: 5 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE |
| Lauren |
A N D R O M E D A
If you can find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn't lead anywhere.
-- Frank A. Clark
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Ambition is a sin. It is a thing of the greedy and the power-hungry, and yet this flickering flame in my chest is nothing but a desire to win, growing stronger with every beat of my heart.
My tail flicks his face, a hard-handed caress of whipping material on the sensitivity of the delicate soft muzzle. From the soft whistling whisper of his wings, I can tell he has dropped in altitude, and I lower my head, tipping my wings downward and gliding, remaining above him but keeping him within my sight, wary of Green disappearing into the cloud cover. Clouds are unpleasant messes of cold and water, but they are useful for cover. But today I was not in the mood for wild goose chases, and I hope we could steer clear of that sort of thing entirely. Despite this strange emotion locking hold onto me, pushing me to ever greater heights- metaphorically, not physically- I hope he didn't lose his grip on his bearings. The sky is a dangerous place, an unpredictable wildcat who leaps and growls and changes from placid to aggressive in a moment.
Swirling beneath me is the world so white and breath-taking; my wingbeats continue steadily, my body too used to flying for me to lose concentration while I multi-task, or god forbid, stop flapping my wings. The delicate exposed flesh where my feathers were plucked stings and burns at the wind rushing at it.
I do not see Green rise above me and come dropping downwards. Uttering a soft cry of surprise, I tip my left wing just as the edge of his right wing clips it, sending me spinning. Extending my wings further, I lock the muscles tightly, refusing to go spiraling madly downwards, before I enter a controlled dive, even as his upstroke comes snapping at my left wing once more, just landing a light blow on the area where the wing bone connects to my shoulder.
The wind whistles an eerie tone as I plummet, and I can see Green racing downwards. For once in the air, his lithe, thin build is at an disadvantage. Today it is a gusty day, and so my heavier body is better, being able to cut more effectively through the prevailing northern wind, rather than being gusted about. For a moment, I consider. Now that he has gained height, I will have to be very careful. Snapping open my wings will only send me shooting upwards, and perhaps even smacking into him, which, sure, would send him flailing, but would also possibly snap a wing-bone or severely bruise my back.
Diving is always a delicate business. Nothing can compare to the thrill of its speed, even when your wings ache and burn to open against the pressure.
I flare open my wings, slowing downwards. Considering the fact he is trying to come even with me, I hope his reaction time will be slower. I tip my right wing, pushing over to the side, praying that I will smash in his hip with my own side, and hopefully my wing coming over his hindquarters, if he is vertical.
Assuming he is now pulled out of his dive- should Green be- I will try to drop behind him and give a savage tug at his tail, hopefully avoiding pulling out any strands of hair.
Oh the excitement! Truly this is wonderful. Nothing can even compare to the joy of a flight on a blue-sky day, let alone forgetting worries in the heave and pull of muscle and sinew, tendon and bone, where anything can happen, and any underdog can fight his or her way to the top. Today, I think, there is no underdog- we are too evenly matched, Green and I.
WC: 626
Post: 3/3
Summary: Sorry for the lateness! So. His right wing clips her left wing, sending her spinning, and assuming she was hit on a downstroke, the upstroke smacks her underneath her wing. She enters a dive before him and is stuck beneath him, and decides to open up her wings, and tip to the right. [Assuming] he is still in vertical descent, she hopes to catch him in the hip with her hindquarters/flank area. Once more she dives and hopes to grab onto his tail.
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| Outcast atk: 9 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5 |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2hh :: 8 HP: 61.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
| Gaz |
His down-stroke had clipped her left wing, causing her body to roll toward him and her right wing to experience a greater angle of attack. He recognized the situation immediately, having experienced such a maneuver both willingly and unwillingly. If entered intentionally, the spin was not so hard to pull out of, however when such distractions as enemies were hanging over your head, it became considerably more difficult. The asymmetrical lift that resulted from her wing-drop swiftly sent her tumbling earth-wards, her body spinning rapidly as if caught in a tornado.
Just watching her fall toward the golden fields below, spinning wildly as she was battered by the winds, sent a surge of fear into his heart. Would she be able to recover before she fell to the ground? He did not want to see her hurt, especially not at his own hands, and he hoped she would have the coordination to check her descent before it was too late. However, as he watched her grow smaller against the backdrop of gold, she thrust her wings out to stop the rotation and slow her fall. She transitioned smoothly into a controlled dive, passing below him as he waited above.
He would never have guessed his attack to have been so effective, but he was evidently pleased with the outcome. In all his years of aerial combat training they had never taught him to use anything more than teeth and hooves, but it seemed as though there was more than one way to knock your opponent from the sky. He had to thank the tobiano for introducing a new strategy to him, but at the moment there was no time for words. His eyes remained fixed on her as he waited for the right moment to execute his next attack, judging the vertical distance between them carefully, though it was difficult to do so when his target was moving.
Tucking his wings in against his sides, he let himself fall toward her. He began the dive when he was slightly ahead of her, knowing it would take some time for him to reach her altitude, and hopefully by the time their paths crossed she would be in the perfect position. In the sky, the wind was much stronger than it was on the ground as there were no obstructions to block its path, and it battered him relentlessly as he fell. It provided him with a thrill of uncertainty, not knowing exactly where the winds would push him, though he hoped he could remain on course. His body, light though very aerodynamic, was easily pushed about by the air whereas Andromeda was of a heavier build and could easily push through the air.
As he spun about through the air, rapidly nearing her dark body, she dropped into a dive as well. Damn it, he thought as she accelerated away from him, her weight carrying her downward while his lighter body could not gain so much speed. He grit his teeth in frustration, pressing his wings in tighter against his sides to reduce drag. However, she had already reached a speed he simply could not match, and so he was forced to give up. Size was one advantage she held over him, though it had not been so noticeable until now.
He was about to pull up and recover from his dive or perhaps divert course, but suddenly it was too late for that. The mare below him had opened her wings as he freefell toward her, and he was rapidly growing too close to slow himself. In a panic, he threw out his wings, his mind a mess of confusion as he struggled to come up with some way to avoid impact. Though his intentions had originally been to hit her, his instinctual reaction was immediately to avoid a collision. Besides, if he were to collide with her at such speeds, they would both be likely to sustain injuries.
He had managed to position himself slightly to her right as he fell, and while the distance between them was not quite sufficient enough to avoid impact entirely, it would make for a slightly softer landing. However, she banked to the right as he came up beside her, and frantically he tried to pull up out of her path. His hind end dropped slightly as he lifted his torso, beating his wings hard against the air to gain height. There was no way he could possibly clear her track in time, and her right side connected firmly with his left hip, forcing his body to tip to the right away from her.
It took a moment for the pain to sink in as he fell, but when it hit it burned like a fire. It felt as though he had fallen onto firm rock or been kicked in the hip, such was the force of her momentum. It would only leave a bruise, invisible through his dark hide, but the ache that remained would surely remind him of the incident for days to come. Unsure of what move to make next, he simply allowed his body to fall to the side through the air, opening his wings to allow for a gentle glide downward while he searched the clear skies for his adversary. Much to his surprise, he felt her before he could catch sight of her.
Her teeth snagged at his tail, tearing a few hairs from the base to leave a terrible burning and itching sensation behind. Now, he knew she was close. Whirling around in the air, he hoped to catch her before she had a chance to fly away. He beat his wings against the tailwind, pushing himself forward as fast as he could and reaching out with his teeth for the base of her throat. He didn’t intend to seriously harm her, but hopefully if he was successful he could at least give her a bit of a shock; maybe that would slow her down and give him a bit of a chance.
(Summary: When he dives and Andromeda dives beneath him, he is unable to catch up to her. As she opens her wings to slow herself down, he frantically tries to avoid hitting her and ends up positioning himself slightly to her right. When she banks to the right, her right side strikes his left hip and causes him to tip over to the right. He then pitches down into a smooth glide to search for her, when she catches up with him and manages to pull a few hairs from his tail. Knowing that she is close to him, Murdock whirls around and lunges for her throat, attempting to bite her and intending to deliver more of a shock than injury.
Attack 3/3
Defense 0/1)
"talk talk talk"
Wind me up, put me down
Start me off and watch me go
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Image Credit
| Dragon's Throat Healer |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1hh :: 5 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE |
| Lauren |
A N D R O M E D A
daughter of the stars
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I miscalculated, to say the very least, and immediate and sudden fear sinks into me as I glance upwards, horror in my eyes as he too tips right; but I'm too late to change course, and I brace myself for the inevitable jolt that will be delivered. The wind moans, melancholy, in my ears, as if whispering an apology for my demise. I can't forgive it, for it gusts harder and harder about me, pushing on my fragile bones. Perhaps it's panic that tightens my chest and makes my breathing harder, not coming easily to my lungs; maybe it's just the thin atmosphere. Some might describe fear as euphoria, an en-heightening adrenaline rush that tingles in your blood and shoots through your veins; it is not so. It paralyzes me, numbing me, even as we make impact.
It rattles my bones and bruises my muscular haunches; my teeth jar together, making an unpleasant crunching sound. A shock runs down my right side, emanating especially throughout the hip joint. Though my wings keep beating, I wonder if it's even possible for me to land like this- I can only see it hurting like the devil dickens. I wish it wasn't so, but somehow I can only see it hurting me more than him. Talk about a move backfiring.
He goes spinning past, no doubt sent swirling through our unpleasant collision.
I can only imagine how much it hurts for him, for I can feel where his left hip side rubbed against mine. How could I have done something so recklessly irresponsible? Did I not pride myself on my modesty and level-headedness? And here I was, practicing unnecessarily dangerous maneuvers that might not just hurt the other, but myself as well! Backwards, I say; entirely backwards. This was not a war, and I did not have to be foolish. This was just a game, a silly play. Why were my intentions so horribly strong to hurt him? Shame burns inside me. I wish Midas was here, the kindly general- he could advise me on this, I'm certain. I am a warrior- I protect, and while that may entail hurting another, that should never mean I need use more force than should be used.
Almost automatically, I fall downwards after him, tightening my legs to my star-wrapped bodice, and my teeth shut over gritty, coarse hairs- unfortunately, his hair was a little bit loose- maybe he has mange- and they pulled free. Stingy, maybe, but no real harm done. Nothing worse than the feathers he has pulled from my wing.
Suddenly, he twists and turns beneath me, lunging upwards at throat, broad yellowed teeth looking suddenly and terrifyingly like the snapping fangs of wolves. Because of how close are bodies are, and the position he angles himself to be in, Green's teeth snaps at my exposed throat. Hastily I tuck my head, protecting my throatlatch from harm, and I scowl down at him as his teeth graze my forehead, an unpleasant sensation but much better than having my throat clutched in his flat teeth. I suppose I should be thankful of this- but mostly, I feel anxious and a little bit pessimistic. Let it just be said this short battle was nothing I expected, and to be honest, I'm not sure who won.
I open my wings slowly, the pressure on them making my appendages ache, and I pull out of the steep plunge downwards, rising upwards quietly and gracefully, throwing him one last guarded smile; "Thanks!" I call out cheerfully, pushing away the last bitter twinges that play on my heart.
I want to see him again, the handsome stallion who fights so well, and the image of us doing something very different from fighting makes me blush.
1/1 Closing Defense
Thank you so much for sparring with me!
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| Administrator |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
| Official |
A n d r o m e d a | M u r d o c k
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By my verdict ANDROMEDA is the winner.
Andromeda receives 1 VP.
ANDROMEDA -- post 1 (attack only)
[Realism]
+ 1| Attack: Wing slap to the left side of Murdock's neck.
- 1| Attack: "...lash out to aim at the soft flesh of his shoulder..." -- You fail to specify in your post what attack you are actually making. Another wing slap? A bite? I figured it was a kick and was reassurred by your summary below, but I can only award what counts toward the 800 words.
[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
+ 1| Easy Read
MURDOCK -- post 1
[Realism]
- 1| Defense: Pivoting toward the right to avoid the wing slap. I think this is a fine defense, but consider how large of a wingspan a full grown pegasus has. I doubt Murdock, in his surprised state, would be able to turn a full 90 degrees to avoid being at least brushed by her feathers.
- 1| Injury: Kick to the shoulder. You have moved and pivoted to the right far enough to avoid a whole wing, but you do not change where the attack lands.
+ 1| Attack: Bite toward the left wing joint.
- 1| Borderline Powerplay: "As he passed her flank...." -- You may only attempt movements on your opponent. Andromeda could do anything within the span of time Murdock tries to do this, and he could never pass her flank.
+ 1| Attack: Kick to the left cannon.
- 1| Exceeded 800 word maximum.
[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
+ 1| Easy Read
ANDROMEDA -- post 2
[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: Curving her body and lifting her left wing to minimize damage.
- 1| Defense: Crow-hopping away from the kick. Kicks are relatively fast, and even if Andromeda saw it coming, I do not believe she would have time to get out of the way entirely.
+ 1| Dual-attack: Tail wagging in the face or a wing knock depending on the circumstances.
[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
+ 1| Easy Read
MURDOCK -- post 2
[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: Trying to flap to a stop to evade her tail slap, but taking it anyway.
+ 1| Attack: Wing push to Andromeda's left wing.
0| Attack: Diving downward. Do not forget that you are far enough to her left side to push her wing down, so falling straight down would likely have Murdock clear her without touching.
[Prose]
0 | Emotion: This post was written with a few hints of emotion, but way more detail on surrounding than feelings, and got extremely mechanical during fighting portions. Not horrible, just not emotional.
+ 1| Flow
+ 1| Easy Read
ANDROMEDA -- post 3
[Realism]
+ 1| Injury: Twirling out of control from the wing hit, as well as taking a blow to the wing joint.
- 1| Dropped Attack: You fail to mention whether or not Murdock's dive is successful in hitting Andromeda. I realize you are attempting a counterattack at the same time, but dictating that he hits you with his front end could actually help your case in this point.
0 | Attack: Tilting down to the right to try and slam her side into his hip. No mention of directions, aside from the wing tilt. I figure you are trying to hit her left side to his right hip, since he was originally to the left.
+ 1| Attack: Bite to the tail.
[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion
+ 1| Flow
+ 1| Easy Read
MURDOCK -- post 3
[Realism]
+ 1| Defense: Pulling torso upward to try and slow his descent, but getting twirled away from the impact.
+ 1| Injury: A few hairs being painfully plucked out of his tail.
- 1| Attack: Bite to the throat. A large pegasus does not simply "whirl" around in the air. With a horse as large as Murdock and an equally large wingspan, he would have to have a pretty wide radius to turn around, and by then Andromeda would be far out of his reach. A kick or sudden slam on the breaks would have been a much easier and effective attack.
- 1| 800 word limit exceeded.
[Prose]
+ 1| Emotion: Much better. :)
+ 1| Flow
+ 1| Easy Read
ANDROMEDA -- post 4 (defense only)
[Realism]
+ 1| Recoil: Jarring from the impact of Murdock.
+ 1| Defense: Tossing her head down to redirect Murdock's bite to her forehead.
ANDROMEDA
[Bonus]
+ 2| Breed Comparison: Despite how similar Murdock and Andromeda were, you were constantly aware of the benefits of these slight differences, as well as how even of a match it was.
+ 2| Surroundings: In every post, you were aware of surroundings. You mentioned the hard dirt for footing, the general weather, and the effect of winds. Also, you spent a lot of time describing the possibility of clouds being used deceptively.
[Injuries]
None.
[Creativity]
+ 1| "The sky is a dangerous place, an unpredictable wildcat who leaps and growls and changes from placid to aggressive in a moment." -- I thought this was a beautiful description of a windy sky, and it stuck with me.
Comments: You are excellent at getting all of your prose and bonus points! Do not lose this skill, as they can really determine the difference between a good fighter and an exceptional one. I would say that you need to work on being more descriptive in attacks, as usually it was a couple of details (or forgetting to mention specifically what you are doing) that were missing. These are small details that add up and cost you points. Overall, you did a fantastic job!
MURDOCK
[Bonus]
+ 2| Breed Comparison: You, as well, worked in breed comparisons despite there being very few to actually make. The biggest thing was realizing how the body type of Murdock actually effects the battle.
+ 1| Surroundings: You passingly mention surroundings, but do not really use them actively throughout the battle, except in the one occasion where Murdock is battered about by the wind.
[Injuries]
None.
[Creativity]
+ 1| I found it interesting that you used a lot of information about Murdock's internal, physical state (heart rate, breathing, etc.) throughout the battle.
Comments: Mechanics wise, you did well during this fight. You had a few hiccups here and there, but ultimately, you know how to fight. What you need to work on is being inclusive of your surroundings in a way that affects battle. Describing the yellow, frosty grass is not what we watch for. Changing flight patterns based on the wind is using your surroundings, which is what we want. Also, do not exceed the word limit! You will get docked every time. Great job!
TOTAL
Andromeda - 68
Murdock - 62
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image credit to Paulo Brandão
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[JUDGED] Into the Fire [Andromeda]
