Beachside Brawl

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Open to one, preferably someone I haven't written with yet. Fite me, bro.

The soft crashing of the tide provided me with enough noise to keep me from falling asleep.

I sat in cross-legged meditation on the rocky beach, allowing all of my cares and worries melt away in the heat of the midday sun. I really do enjoy my sojourns into the depths of the famous Citadel's magically-created arenas, especially now that I'm starting to get older and even more world-weary. The stress that has come with running the Order of the Crimson Hand is slowly eating away at my soul, in combination with keeping up on my research, tracking down the cult that had me turned into a Briarheart in order to hasten their execution, developing secret plans with Aurelianus, and a bunch of other shit going on in my life.

And then there's the whole becoming an agent of a Forgotten One bit, too. That's only compounded my issues as I struggle to keep her happy with my work.

Which brings me here. I have always found calm in combat. There's just nothing quite like centering yourself by knocking someone's spine out of alignment. Blame it on my upbringing, I guess.

I opened my eyes to take in the sights around me. Before me was an endless horizon, with low waves of crystal clear water lapping at the smooth stones at the shoreline. The beach stretched for miles on either side of me, providing me with an infinite playground to stain with the blood of my eventual opponent. Behind me, rising from the rocks were the towering earthen slopes of bluffs that had to have reached several hundred feet high. I was quietly happy that the monks decided to dump me here instead of up there, where either myself or the other person could've easily fallen to their death.

Have you fallen to your death before? I have. It's not fun.

Rocks stirred to my left as Hyperion shifted restlessly. The plant horror was garbed in form-fitting black and purple robes, the embroidered patterns on them hinting at a Fallieni origin. Her glowing orange eyes gazed out upon the waters of the ocean as well. "Is this what you do with your spare time," she asked in her tinny voice.

"Yeah. Sometimes things back in Salvar get to be too much and I just need to unwind."

She looked over at me, her emotions and curiosity unreadable on the mythril funeral mask that covered her face. "Why come here? Why not take a real vacation?"

I shrugged. "Where would I go? Berevar? Keribas? Knowing my luck, some pressing business would come up and I'd have to pack up and go home, or an enemy would pop up and ruin my afternoon or something. I've done some horrible things these past few years, and reality likes to pop in and remind me of them. At least here I can get some time to myself and sort all my thoughts out."

Hype turned to face the shore once more. After a long pause, she said, "Never would've expected you to pick out a beautiful place like this, though."

I arched an eyebrow. "What, did you think it was going to be a dimly-lit blood orgy inside a fortress made of torture devices and blades?"

"With curtains made from the stripped flesh of your enemies as well, yes."

A thin smile crossed my face with that mental image. "Maybe next time, Hype."

[Logan]

If Logan wanted an escape from the day to day there was always the Citadel. A place where creativity once reigned and wounds were still nothing more than emotional scars. Unless of course you happened across someone hell bent on revenge or your death, but even then a truly wily veteran of the Citadel knew the escape mechanisms. And he was precisely that.

There were few in all the lands of Althanas with as much time in the early Citadel years as he. Especially when it came to the unexpected twists and turns of battle. The arenas formed in the Citadel were born of magic, and rarely would one find a creation without its odd quirks. Thinking back, he remembered the joys of the glass cube maze, only to be outdone by floating land masses of doom constantly revolving around some unseen force. Perhaps it was precisely the unknown within the invisible walls of the Citadel magic constantly forcing to adjust his tactics and forcing him into constant extreme focus that kept him coming back.

Those days were but memories as more and more creations took the form of every day machinations. By then creativity no longer ruled the kingdom, but instead it was all about being the best equipped or most prepared. Yet he still longed to return to the Citadel, even if he knew deep down there was only mundane battles with repetitive landscape awaiting him.

As he approached the marble steps, chipped and cracked from decades of wear and tear, he always took a moment to marvel at the beauty and greatness. The magical nature of the Citadel soothed his worries, especially in his times of deepest depression. When his demons nearly overtook him for good, he'd found solace within the walls of the Citadel and the help of his good friend Silence Sei. When the Bandit Brotherhood dispersed and shifted from one form to another, he'd found his place of normalcy within those walls.

Every battle there held a steadfast resolve which Logan could never forget and never waiver from. Those were a part of who he was as much as his psionic abilities and swords. There was a day in the early years where he would find himself in situations with no prayer of escape, and yet he never ran away. Sure, there was the temporary void of death to fear, but for him the very emptiness of those fleeting moments were precious moments of sanctity and most of all, sanity.

And so he leaped up the steps, bounding two or three at a time until he reached the top and immediately headed toward the first doorway he spotted. It was dark, black and had twisty branches framing it. The door opened as he smashed through unannounced. There was no concern of a heated battle ongoing or falling prey to a trap. He welcomed the chaos and confusion.

The first step he felt his footing secure as his eyes adjusted to the bright, blazing sunlit beach before him. Logan had to give it to the creator, they definitely had a penchant for beautiful landscapes. A few hundred feet ahead he spotted his target, and with that and without warning or announcement of his arrival he ran toward then, swords unsheathed in a flash readied for a quick attack, but also prepared for the counter strike which was sure to come.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

The light ripple of teleportation magic was barely audible over the rolling waves. The creature next to me sniffed the air. "It seems that your opponent is here," Hyperion remarked.

I followed her gaze to my left to see a tall man barreling down the beach towards me, his boots kicking up rocks with each leaping step. His long black duster billowed in the wind as he tore two short swords from their scabbards, no doubt thirsting for my blood. A look of lethal determination was etched on his face as he continued his mad dash towards me. He was still several hundred feet away, but closing in fast.

I clicked my tongue. "Doesn't look like he's too interested in introductions. How rude." My assistant watched me from her perch on the rocks as I rose to my feet and quickly stretched before the coming fight. "You going to stick around and watch?"

Hype shook her head. "No, I'll pass. I think I'll just head back to the laboratory and work on some stuff." She reached up with a gloved hand and adjusted the dark purple and blue hood of her Fallieni robes before she disappeared in a flash of bright light.

All alone, once again, as ever, I thought to myself darkly as I pulled my knuckledusters out of my pockets and slid them onto my briar-knit hands. I didn't recognize this silver-haired man from any of my previous excursions within the Citadel, so it never hurt to be fully prepared to deflect any sort of magical onslaught I could face with the Spellpunchers.

My mysterious opponent was drawing closer with each passing second. I balled up my fists into knots and felt my lungs filling with gaseous plague. As the man readied his swords with the intent of cutting me into ribbons, I exhaled a thick purple jet of disease--the very same that took the lives of half of Eiskalt during the war. With any luck, a few traces would enter the man's system and begin its dark work, weakening him to the point where my victory would be quick and absolute.

Yeah, it's dirty; but with some of the people I've fought before within the Citadel's hallowed halls, you can never be too sure.

[Logan]

Whoever had the bright idea of using a beach as a landscape for battle probably themselves never once moved about upon sand. Grains of sand have this wicked penchant for moving beneath your feet in ways to knock you off your stride, or worse cause you to stumble and fall. And so it was for Logan.

Just as he made out the jetstream cloud of purple goo, which he really couldn't describe any other way than putrid violet that seemed to gurgle from within the stream, the unfamiliar sense of lost footing fell over him. It wasn't enough that he fell, either. In midfall, to gain his balance, he tried to thrust his swords into the ground, but they too slid about providing zero stability and ultimately Logan ended up disarmed and face first upon the sand.

Rolling over to look at the quite picturesque sky -- it was truly a shame he only had a spare moment or so to admire it -- the psion balled his fists and pushed himself up onto one knee and then the other. By then it wouldn't have been much of a surprise if his opponent was well within striking distance, though he didn't really much care either way. Logan needed the upper hand, and quickly.

"Son of a--," was all he could telepathically shout out from himself as he tried his best to make it to a standing position. There was little concern of Logan attempting some kind of attack as without his beloved swords he was more than defenseless. He was naked.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

The swordsman deftly got out of the way of the jet of plague, but what happened next was rather... unexpected. My black-clad opponent lost his footing in the mixture of sand and stone and tumbled over in a rather embarrassing manner. He tried to save face by jamming his blades into the ground to stop himself, but they betrayed him as well by shifting around. Much to his chagrin, he continued his descent until he hit the ground and found his face buried in the sand with an unceremonious whuff.

I immediately burst out laughing. It was a horrible sound, a piercing tone that dispelled the rolling tranquility of the waves that lapped at the shore and breeze that blew through the trees at the top of the bluffs. Just... the sight of this po-faced warrior, swords out and looking for blood, taking a spill as he tried to rush me was just too much for me to handle. I was laughing so hard that my stomach started to ache, and I doubled over.

What a way to kill the mood, though.

I wiped a tear from my eye with a briar-knit finger as I tried to regain my composure. The man was scrambling to find his footing, completely forgetting about the glittering metal of his blades as they sat there on the beach, probably just as embarrassed at their owner's folly as he himself was.

"Come on," I said with a brief giggle. "Get up. Grab your weapons, let's try this again, yeah?" I made a motion for the poor guy to grab his blades before returning to a more defensive fighting stance, fists balled up tightly and ready to strike.

I mean, sure; I could've struck in that moment with a shower of acid, deadly flesh-eating spores, plague, and bone-breaking hits... But it's not exactly sporting, you know?

[Logan]

The psion had to hide a smirk. Of course his plan paid off in a perfectly executed tumble and spill, all meant to coax the opponent into a false sense of the ability he possessed. What he hadn't counted on among the multitude of scenarios he had played out in his mind, was his opposition being female. Not that it made a difference, but that giggle. That sinister, finely crafted, tuned to the level of cuteness melted him so easily. And she had no idea.

Some time ago he'd found himself melted into a proverbial puddle by a cute little fairy friend of his, who just so happened to wish to control the psion's powers. As a result, he actually lost most of his telepathic ability and was left with only a minimal capability when it came to telekinesis and the like. Telepathy was still in tact, but only just so. More often than not if he tried to tune too hard, all he'd get back was feedback and the migraine that followed always forced him to the point of surrender. And of course she was cuteness personified, wrapped in a manipulative, bitchy shell of a nasty, violent serial killer.

Or maybe just the nasty and violent part was the bitchy shell. He really didn't care. The cuteness was an overload, and instead of reaching for his blades, he just dropped to a cross-legged position and folded his hands into his lap. The psion gave her a flirty smile from afar. They hadn't even been introduced and he was already under her spell. Could she maintain her grip over him though?

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Curiously, the silver-haired man did not immediately collect his blades, scramble to his feet, and rush in to try and run me through. Instead, he elected to remain on the rocky beach. The guy twisted himself around so he was sitting cross-legged on the ground, his hands folded neatly in his lap as if he were enjoying a casual day out and about.

The smile on his face, polite and friendly, was unsettling given our intentions here today. As he flashed his teeth at me, a tingle crept up my spine. I found it... unnerving. Creepy.

"Come on, get up," I said as I settled into a defensive stance. I clenched my fists and raised them in the air before me, ready to strike once he snatched up his weapons and rose to his feet.

But, that's not what happened. Rather, he continued to remain seated, his head slightly cocked at an angle much like a dog that doesn't quite understand the command he's been given.

"Get up, Smiley," I repeated, my annoyance seeping into my voice. "You're starting to kill the mood."

And yet, he did nothing. It was starting to get on my nerves. I didn't come here to flirt, I came here to fight. I'll be damned if I don't get that satisfaction.

"I said get up," I shouted, my anger coming to a quick boil. My mouth quickly filled with acid. Puckering my lips, I sprayed a corrosive amber cloud at the black-clad stranger. If he wouldn't move on his own initiative, I would make him get off his ass and fight me.

[Logan]

While most men would never have given Madison a second look, the psion was overly smitten by her. She had a cuteness factor to him that a normal person would have found repulsive. Then again, Logan was never attracted to the more voluptuous types. Instead, he found the lithe, "asset-less" to be more his cup of tea. Even the ones who returned none of his own affections, or those who tried to kill him.

He suspected she only attacked because she only had ever known violence. In his mind, he just figured she had never found the right guy or true love or any those sorts of things. Logan could be that for her if she just gave him a chance, right? Probably not, but that wouldn't stop him from trying.

As the cloud of sulphuric acid raced toward the psion, his expression never changed. The goofy, flirty smile remained. His gaze upon her never wavered. As the cloud came within only a few feet, he twisted his hand and flicked his fingers to the side. A wave from the ocean rose and crested between the two combatants, engulfing the cloud. Super-heated steam shot upward in an explosion that rocked the beach. Between them rained down small, transparent yellow snow-flake like crystals.

Though thoroughly entranced by his affinity for cuteness -- even ones in the form of Althanas' biggest witch -- he remained cognizant of his actions. The will to survive was very strong, but he couldn't attack those who enthralled him, even if he really did want to.

He rose to his feet, as she had commanded, and with the same goofy, flirty expression plastered across his face he did the only thing he could think to do.

"You sure are cute when you're angry," he said as he blew her a flirtatious kiss.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Excuse me?

Excuse me?!

What did this skinny, pale freak just say to me?

My fists clenched as a venomous rage began to course through my veins. My heartbeat quickened, my jaw clenched tight, and a sneer cracked across my features. The silver-haired man's affections snaked through the curtain of neutralized acid flakes and hit the brick wall that is my sheer intolerance of bullshit before fluttering to the ground, impotent and unrequited.

A thick purple plague involuntarily filled my lungs, ready to be unleashed on the man. But, given that he was able to call up a wave from the shore and focus it to deflect the spray of acid, would it have been smart to use it? Also, did I have the terrible luck to be paired off with a hydromancer in the Citadel on the shore of an endless sea?

I would have to find out more about this creeper's abilities before I could attempt another attack like that.

Two lengths of vine slithered out from my wrists, snaking through the air behind me and wrapping themselves around the leather hilts of my twin mythril daggers. I had recently picked up the beauties, but their enchanted edges have yet to taste the flesh and blood of others. Twice as sharp as other weapons of their caliber, they would certainly cut through the black fabric of the guy's trenchcoat and get to the squishy vitals.

Maybe that would include his heart--it would bring me a bit of joy to both break it and cut it out of his body, too.

I pivoted my feet, digging into the rocky beach and ready to spring in any direction with the crash of a wave. A fierce cry burst from between my clenched teeth. With a quick motion, I ripped the daggers from their leather sheathes and sent them forward to do their dark work. Guided by the vines, the polished metal glistened in the bright midday sun as the first arced outward before curving back in. One dagger was aimed slightly upwards at his throat, while the second hoped to find a home in the soft, pale flesh between his ribs.

[Logan]

{OOC: Approved use of Oxidation on the vines by Madison prior to posting.}

In his long and illustrious career as a fighter in the Citadel Logan had never once met with anyone quite as unique as Madison Freebird. While most who met her would probably not consider her cute, attractive or possessing any form of capacity to return affections, the psion simply could not control his crush upon her -- even at first sight he felt a stirring he couldn't quite explain away.

To anyone watching it would have been plain to see Madison returned zero of his advances, but he was so far gone in his admiration and affection for her, he simply could not believe she did not feel anything at all for him in return.

He held true, the same goofy, flirty smirk on his face, as the object of his attraction unleashed her vines and daggers upon him. Even as they drew near, the only move he made was to ball and then release his fist two or three times. The air around the psion began to hum and vibrate. Energy in its purest form began to dance about him as molecules and atoms diverted to and fro before the psion.

There wouldn't just be the oxidation, however. Logan, even in his trance like state, knew he needed to get close to his opponent to free her from the sorcery that held her heart captive. In a swift movement, just as the vines reached the dancing cloud of energy, he rolled backward. Fingers slid over the hilts of his fallen swords and lifted them from the sand as grains funneled off the tips.

"My beloved, I shall free you from your binds," the psion whispered to her telepathically. Clearly, she wasn't bound by anything, but when your mind is fucking with you, you believe anything to avoid the truth.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

The air surrounding the love-struck man rippled as my vines drew near. A chill crept down my spine--there was no way that whatever he was doing would bode well for me. Lo and behold, it certainly wasn't.

I tried to divert the paths of my dagger-wielding vines, but the edge of... whatever he was doing to the air around him reached out and enveloped them, swallowing them up inside a bubble of magic.

It felt light I had dipped my hands in a pool of lava. A white-hot pain ripped through my vines, up my arms, and came to a screeching halt in my head, where it rudely knocked around for several seconds. I reeled backwards, convulsing, as a primal scream echoed against the sheer rocky walls of the bluffs. I whipped my arms back, forcibly removing my airborne extensions from the distorted area surrounding the bastard. I stumbled for a brief moment, but managed to regain my footing on the lose rocks of the beach as I tried to fight through the tingling pain that was coursing through my body.

As the vines slithered back into my body, I caught a glimpse of the damage that had been dealt. A solid foot or so length of each of the two threads had been rendered brittle and brown, all of the water ripped from their cells. They were knotty and sharp, and caused no small amount of discomfort as they were withdrawn back into my briar-knit arms. The vines would heal in due time, and they would hydrate and regenerate with the passing of several seconds.

But that doesn't mean it still didn't hurt like a son of a bitch.

I allowed my twin mythril daggers to fall to the rocky beach at my feet. They hit the tide-dampened stones with harmless clanks. A smarter, more level-headed Madison would've retrieved them and wielded them; but that particular one happened to be out to lunch at the moment.

The silver-haired man whispered something through the aether that only further served to set me off. "My beloved, I shall free you from your binds."

My beloved? Did this fuck mistake me for someone else? An old flame? A one-night stand? Or was he taunting me, thinking that because I had a set of (admittedly small) boobs that it was more akin to a blind date than a blood sport?

No matter. I will kill him all the same; just with a little more of the ol' ultra-violence. Nobody trivializes a fight in the Citadel against me, godsdammit.

Shutting out all of the lingering pain from having my vines damn-near disintegrated, I burst forth in a furious charge. I balled up my fists, my knuckles turning a lighter shade of green as acid pooled in the palms of my hands. I was four rushing steps closer to him when the acid began to crystallize. Sharp, amber shards began poking through the spaces between my fingers.

"How about I free you from this mortal coil instead," I screamed as I came to a sudden stop about thirty feet away from the black-clad man, who had rose to his feet and taken up his swords once more.. I threw my hands forward, and gave off a highly-pressurized burst from the pods that were embedded in the palms of my hands. The crystals fragmented and rocketed forward, spreading out in a cone of blistering, glistening, flesh-shredding death.

[Logan]

There was an expectation on his part which fell well short. Logan figured when he called her his beloved the part of her that still loved him would fight through, but instead there was only yelling and an attack. It was like she didn't seem to care about him anymore, but he figured that could attributed to her being afraid to love him.

For anyone, letting themselves be that vulnerable to love someone is tough. Logan figured with what he knew of this girl, from her anger and rage to how she dressed and carried herself, she was deeply scarred -- or so he figured. Hurting people hurt people, or so the saying goes. Part of him wanted to let go of this sudden obsession for her, but the longer their dance continued the more that part faded leaving behind only the obsessive, highly hormonal part.

She lashed out at him pretty effectively, and the best he could have done, anyways, was to try to deflect a few of them with his swords -- but what was the use in that? By attacking him, she only solidified his infatuation with her. It only grew stronger, and the last of his will to fight her completely faded.

The crystals ripped through his coat and shirt with relative ease, leaving speckles of blood all over his white undershirt. The acid effect may have been lessened, but the burning was plenty enough on its own. He gritted his teeth as he threw off his trenchcoat and shirt. The skin once exposed to the cool moist air left pock marks where each shard of the substance had burrowed into his flesh.

Logan fought the desire to scratch, knowing it would be completely futile. The will of the psion was nearly impossible to break, and even though he was madly -- more like sadistically -- obsessed with Madison Freebird, his will remained in tact. His eyes squeezed shut as tears rolled down his cheeks, and he dropped to his knees. The grip on his swords loosened and they dropped onto the sand.

His fight was not with Madison. It was with whatever held her shell and walls steadfast against his advances. It was with the parts of her that resisted, but not with her. Logan knew that fight couldn't be won with swords or molecular manipulation. It had to be won by showing her it was real.

The psion reached down for his short swords and stood once more. This time, the focus was real. The purpose was real. The emotion was very, very real. The grip was stronger on his swords. In spite of all of the pain, in spite of the acid coursing through his insides and his body slowly beginning a full on shut down, he stood to his feet. His eyes glistened from the tears, and he blinked to clear the moisture.

He finally attacked, swords raised and a guttural, primal scream erupted from within. Everything in how he felt about her, all of the obsession, all of the attraction, and all of the psychotic affection, it all came out in the ferocity of the swings. The first sword angled down across her chest, and the other sliced at her side. Almost every fiber of him knew the attack was entirely useless, and that she would best him still. But he had to try, right?

That is what love is at its core: sacrifice. A willingness to lay down everything so that the one you love can find what they want and what they need. Even if she didn't reciprocate the feelings, he felt them so strongly he truly believed she did deep inside herself. Could the witch ever truly see past the insanity and see that he wasn't actually fucking with her mind?

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Bunny approved.

Ah, that's much better, I thought to myself with a smirk. The ol' creep-ass decided he had enough messing around after getting blasted by acidic shards and finally resolved himself to a fight.

He reached down, his sweat-coated skin and the crystals embedded in his chest and arms glittering in the sun. Fighting to keep his hands from shaking from the intense pain that ratcheted up in intensity with each passing second, he picked up the twin prevaldia swords that were resting on the rocks of the beach. With an incredible cry that rattled around the inside of my skull, the silver-haired swordsman burst forth to begin the fight in earnest.

It was a shame that, by this point, the only thing he would kill today is my interest in drawing out this odd and off-putting little scenario.

I found myself quickly sliding into a defensive stance. I balled up my briar-knit fists tightly and raised them in the air in front of me. Briefly, I thought about extending a round of vines around me as further defensive measures; but then I remembered what had happened to the two I sent out prior. They still hurt like a bitch, even as my body worked overtime to regenerate the destroyed plant matter. Also, my extensions are only so tough; the metal of his blades would probably cut through them like butter.

The skin around his numerous wounds had already started to redden from contact with the acid shards. There was no signs of blistering yet--and I would not give them time to begin the process. Pushing through the pain the best he could, the delusional bastard took two swings at me; one coming in horizontally looking to gut me, the second coming down at a diagonal angle hoping to hit... well, from the looks of his desperation, anything.

Both of these strikes were easily dodged. I've trained long and hard enough to be able to dodge most things in close quarters, and the blast of crystals had slowed him down considerably.

I rebounded out of the way, displacing pebbles and rocks as I danced away on the sunny shores of the beach. Without missing a single beat, I snapped back into the space I had just vacated, twisting my body around to avoid the bloodletting edges of the silver-haired man's twin swords and getting close enough to where I could feel his hot breath on my face as he towered over me. It was time to end this little charade, I decided.

My body shuddered as acid quickly built up underneath my skin. With a soft hiss, the corrosive liquid burst from every pore and briar. The two of us were enveloped in a cloud of amber droplets, coating his naked upper body and head in a thin layer of acid.

A split second passed before the hissing and putrid smoke filled the air as the cloud began reacting with his flesh and muscle.

[Logan]

Madison dodged every attack the psion threw at her with his swords. Very little time passed between his attacks and her counter, truly enough only a split second. He panted above her as she seemed to slide beneath him and then her entire body erupted in a cloud of haze.

The psion's eyes burned, and he teared up from the irritation. Every open wound on his body from the earlier crystals purged open as the smoke touched them. The crystal bits burst about his flesh, and every pock mark erupted as the acid tore through his organs. Blood spewed from his mouth as he gurgled and coughed, his esophagus ripping apart from the inside. His chest rose and fell more and more shallow with each breath, and his swords fell from his hands.

"I love you," Logan thrust into her mind telepathically. His final words to her, but would they hold any weight?

Flesh disintegrated and muscles, fat and bone were exposed to the smoke. As they each came in contact, they too flaked away into the air until all that remained of the psion was the swords where they fell. Small, tiny bits of human floated through the air, raining down onto Madison almost like tiny snowflakes.

Madison got her wish. The psion was defeated in battle, and for the first time in a very long time he was mentally beaten as well. She would continue to hold a place in his mind and his heart, even well beyond the temporary void of death of the Citadel. Their encounter would not be lost on the psion, and if they ever met again on the field of battle he would have no qualms in opening himself up again. The attraction and affection held no explanation, but even if she never returned the feelings Logan knew them to be real and true.

Love was always victorious, but what he felt for Madison, at least at that point in their stories, was not love. Logan was obsessed, and who knew what the next chapter in their saga would bring?

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Five agonizing seconds passed as the amber mist settled onto the tide-beaten stones of the beach, sizzling as it reacted with the sea water that soaked the ground around me. The silver-haired man stumbled back, desperately clutching at himself, trying to wipe the acid off only to pull away bloody liquefied chunks of his flesh. Five agonizing seconds until the Ai'Brone saw fit to extract him from the arena.

His screams faded with the flash of white light that pulled him into the real world, where he would be healed. Chances were good that I would be scolded by one of those wrinkly old men for "excessive violence". With each passing battle, I've found that my kills have become more and more... Is there even a word for it? Brutal comes pretty close, but it's still off by several miles.

I suppose that's what happens when you're a walking plague apocalypse.

The creep's last words were still lingering on my mind, picking away at me like an annoying child. "I love you," he had said to me while his features melted away.

The thought made me sick. I've never met the man before in my life; and here he was, obsessed with me, falling head over heels for a disgusting little wretch such as myself. If I ever met him again outside the Citadel, I would be sure to kill him for good.

As I turned back towards the endless oceans to wait for another Citadel challenge, I entertained multiple imaginary scenarios that ended with the swordsman's death. I sat back down on the rocky shore in a cross-legged position, closed my eyes, and began meditating once more.

[Zook Murnig]

Beachside Brawl (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?29008-Beachside-Brawl)
Judgment Type: Battle Rubric
Participants: BlackandBlueEyes and Logan

Plot: 19/30 16/30

Story- 7/10 6/10

Like with most battles, there wasn’t a whole lot in the way of an overarching story, but within the thread things progressed along interesting lines. Logan, your infatuation with Madison felt a little one-note for a long time in the thread, detracting some from this category. More on that, however, in Persona.

Setting- 5/10 6/10

For both of you, the setting had little influence on your actions. You took note of it, interacted a couple of times, and then let it drop. Logan did interact more with the scenery, particularly the sand and the sea, but otherwise it was forgotten. As well, the sky was described in incredibly vague terms in post 4.


Rolling over to look at the quite picturesque sky -- it was truly a shame he only had a spare moment or so to admire it -- the psion balled his fists and pushed himself up onto one knee and then the other.

This pulled away from the action and flow of the thread for no real payoff. This would have worked better without the aside, and with more integration between the appearance of the sky, his feelings about it, and the action of getting off of the ground. This can be applied to most of your actions.

Pacing- 7/10 4/10

I feel like BlackandBlueEyes had control of the pace of this battle, between Madison stopping to allow her opponent to rise, and using her frustration to recommence the fight. Overall, the thread was a pretty quick read, as battles should be, with short and punchy narrative that kept the fight relatively fast-paced, despite being essentially a trading of blows until someone died.

Logan, I should point out here that the reason for your comparatively low score here is the way your crush on Madison affected the pace of your narrative. By refusing to get up for a couple of posts, and then maintaining a passive and lazily-defensive presence for most of the thread, it felt like he either wasn’t doing anything, or he was doing the same things again and again. Further, you repeated your concepts, well, repeatedly. This was alleviated some towards the end, but I’ll discuss that further in Persona. I did, however, greatly enjoy the expeditious beginning of the fight in your first post. The pace of a battle is very different from other threads, and their stories, especially in the Citadel, don’t necessitate introductions between the characters. These things can slow down a thread that is, by its nature, intended to be fast-paced and edge-of-your-seat.


Character: 22/30 13/30

Communication- 7/10 4/10

Madison not only actively communicated with her opponent, but also did so in a believable way that didn’t feel like it was just there for the sake of having dialogue for this category. There’s nothing more frustrating for a reader than characters shit-talking for no reason during a heated fight. But you used her outbursts to instigate the fight, and respond to Logan’s lechery and professions of love.

Logan, however, seemed to say the same things repeatedly in different ways. I counted three instances of dialogue, each professing his love for Madison. This category doesn’t just cover dialogue, either. Use of body language counts heavily toward this, and while you did communicate through smirks and winks, that was all you did, and you did so repeatedly. Vary your communicative actions, attempt to taunt through the form of your attacks or footwork, or otherwise express yourself to your opponent through body language. As well, when you are tempted to speak mid-fight, consider its importance. Does it further his goals within this fight? Does it express his feelings about the events, without restating things? Is this conceivably something that could be said under duress and during physical exertion?

Action- 6/10 4/10

Madison took advantage of her unique biology to explore the various ways that her attacks could be described and interact with her opponent’s. This can often be a benefit of first-person perspective, as it places the reader in your character’s position more directly, and you can be more explicit with how things feel, as well as how and why you are doing what you do.

Logan did have some interesting moments of interacting his abilities and actions with Madison’s, but this got lost through the middle of the thread amongst the pacing issues discussed above. As well, you at times seemed to go out of your way not to describe what your powers did. This was particularly true of the “oxidation” in post 10. You gave that opportunity to your opponent, to describe the effects in greater detail, and until then I was confused about what you were doing. It seems like your abilities are based around manipulation of the laws of physics, and you should embrace that in your descriptions. What kinds of reactions are you eliciting? How do the physical laws snap back when you bend them? How does it feel to do these things with your mind? Is there some kind of feedback, like sounds or odd tastes? Interacting with the setting more directly, as well, will help here, as it will ground your actions more thoroughly in the battlefield.

You both seemed, at times, to be fighting in a generic plain rather than a beach. This was averted briefly by the use of the sand and the sea to foul a couple of attacks, but only in those moments.

Persona- 9/10 5/10

This was Madison’s greatest strength in this thread. With every action, piece of dialogue, and choice of word or phrase in your narrative, they oozed personality. You clearly know who she is, and you lovingly bring that out here. The subtle adjustments in her attitude toward Logan throughout gave her depth, and brought her to life. My only complaint is that I didn’t get as much of a sense of Hyperion, though that may be a result of Hype’s brief screen time.

I got a general sense of Logan, as well, but it was decidedly single-noted. His entire presence in this thread was, from the moment Madison laughed at him, infatuated with her. This was repeated, with no clear attempt at subtlety, all the way until your final post. As well, while I recognize that you were trying to set him up as unstable and easily latching onto the first woman to show slight interest in his existence, it came off as relentlessly pursuing the idea of forcing Madison into a relationship. This slowed down the action of the thread, led to a lazy feel in your attacks and defenses, and made Logan less sympathetic than creepy. If you want to try this again in the future, I would recommend less continuous references, and more subtlety. Refer to her as the object of his desire while striking out at her, and call her attacks “love taps.” Once you establish an attraction, of whatever degree, you can keep the idea going with only slight reference to the idea. You’d be surprised how easily people will fall into shipping two characters, if even a little evidence exists to support it.

I will say, however, that you began to redeem yourself towards the end of the thread. As Logan began to accept her lack of affection for him, and tried to fight her in earnest, he became more understandable and sympathetic. This was partly because you had eased up on the sexual tension, and partly because his actions took some of the spotlight away from it. It’s all about hitting that sweet spot, where your character is obviously a stalker, but it doesn’t ruin them for the reader.


Prose: 22/30 19/30

Mechanics- 8/10 8/10

Minor mechanical errors that were likely missed by spellcheck and rereads that you obviously did. You know what to do here, because you’re already doing it.

Technique- 6/10 5/10

While you both exhibited near-equal technical proficiency with the language, it was lacking in presence. BaBE gets a slight advantage here from the first post, but only just. Stretch your legs a little and take some risks! I know you both can do it.

Clarity- 8/10 6/10

There’s not much to say here that hasn’t been covered elsewhere. The main issues were in ability use, and how those abilities worked or what they did, which I discussed earlier. The main thing that hurt Logan was the vague descriptions of what his abilities were doing, or how they would affect his opponent.


He held true, the same goofy, flirty smirk on his face, as the object of his attraction unleashed her vines and daggers upon him. Even as they drew near, the only move he made was to ball and then release his fist two or three times. The air around the psion began to hum and vibrate. Energy in its purest form began to dance about him as molecules and atoms diverted to and fro before the psion.

There wouldn't just be the oxidation, however. Logan, even in his trance like state, knew he needed to get close to his opponent to free her from the sorcery that held her heart captive. In a swift movement, just as the vines reached the dancing cloud of energy, he rolled backward. Fingers slid over the hilts of his fallen swords and lifted them from the sand as grains funneled off the tips.

This came from post 10, and is the biggest example of this issue. You clearly set up some sort of trap, and within the narrative it makes sense to keep some of the effects to yourself, but your foreshadowing of the trap was so vague that it literally could have done anything and I wouldn't be surprised. When applying these sorts of abilities to your narrative, try to focus more on the intent and the feeling of the ability, instead of on the visual effects and what's happening at a molecular level (which is hard for a reader to conceptualize anyway).


Wild Card: 8/10 5/10

I found myself looking forward to BaBE’s posts more than Logan’s, in part because of Logan’s lecherousness. Please tone it down with regard to this in the future.

Final Score: 71/100 53/100

BlackandBlueEyes WINS!!!


BlackandBlueEyes receives 3300 EXP and 114 GP
Logan receives 550 EXP and 74 GP

[Lye]

EXP & GP Added!