Battle Type: Battle Prize: Bragging rights and exp Contact Made: yes!
Character #1:Asterion Bonded: NA Magic: NA Armor: NA Weapons: NA
Character #2:Florentine Bonded: NA Magic: NA Armor: NA Weapons: NO
Asterion
in sunshine and in shadow*
This isn’t how he was supposed to learn.
It had been Calliope who was supposed to teach him to be a warrior. His lion-heart had promised - had bid him find her, when he was ready - and he had put it off and put it off until the rift had swallowed them all.
He tries not to wonder if he will ever see the dark unicorn again; he tries not to think of what she’d say to him, to see him standing here like this. Asterion fails in both.
But Novus has given as much as the rift has taken, and today – a bright, cold morning, the ground hard and the sunlight slanting down and his breath silver in the air before it vanishes – today he will spar with Florentine.
She is not yet here, and he paws the ground with a dark hoof, huffing a breath like a dragon’s in anticipation. He is not bothered by the cold; his nerves are alight, itching under his skin, making him jumpy and round-eyed with nerves. Will he be hurt? Will he be able to strike her? She is not his feral, sorrowful golden twin, nor the dark and fearsome unicorn. She is…she is honey and flowers and laughter. She is unknown to him, too new, and he does not know what to make of her, especially after the festival, the terrible meeting with Aislinn.
The memory of it makes his heart pang, and just as he thinks that perhaps he can fight her, hooves and teeth and body, she appears.
”Are you ready?” he calls to her – but he should have been asking the question of himself, because he does not know the name of the emotion that is roiling within him.
It is his first-ever fight, and Asterion begins it by hesitating.
Summary: Asterion thinks about silly things and sees Florentine. He calls to her but does not begin a move
Yes, indeed, today was the day that Florentine would learn how to fight and not, well, die.
Since the fateful day when the flower girl, aged barely more than a yearling, had galloped rather fool hardily off to war and died, Flora had felt a bit of a crisis of confidence in her ability to survive a fight.
It was not an unreasonable worry, however, for history was not on her side and she was a creature made for smiles, petals and feathers. She was softness and warmth, caresses and soft laughs upon an evening breeze. Florentine was not hard kicks and savage teeth, wild eyes and strong sinew.
For all that the Dusk Emissary lacked in fighting skill and brawn, she more than made up for in keenness and bravery. Her brother had been the soft target in his sister’s search to find a sparring partner and Florentine did not linger on his acceptance of a battle enough to ponder whether it might have been ignorance or some ill-placed pity that saw him say yes.
By the time Florentine arrives, Asterion is already painting the Steppe with his nervousness. He is ever moving, not the gentle flow of a river, instead the electric spark of anxious nerves. Asterion’s anxiety is a balm to the, well, few nerves that Florentine had approaching this fight. The speed and bright-eyed manner with which the girl arrives is enough to betray her keen investment in this morning’s training session.
It had crossed the flower girl’s mind to ask Reichenbach to fight, but then, once she truly considered what that would actually entail she was not sure whether it would be a wise idea. The flower girl was distracted by him at the best of times, let alone when she actually had to attack him. There were far better things the Dusk girl had in mind to do with her Night boy…
She blinks.
She studies her brother and wonders how she never quite realized how similar he looked to her lover.
She blinks again.
Then coughs, just a little unsettled.
Are you ready?
“Yes!” The flower girl cries, a look of steely determination lining the curve of her eyelids. It is with such determination that Flora begins her charge. Golden hair and wild flowers fall across her eyes and she throws her head back to free her gaze and spot the lingering, nervous figure of her brother.
It all felt a bit of a frenzy.
There was little prior thought in the flower girl’s mind exactly what her first attack would be. She was not even sure, now she thought about it on the approach, what even constituted as a good attack.
Aislinn would know .
Florentine’s lips purse.
She pushes on harder, keeping her wings tight to her side, honing whatever glorious grace she thinks the Night Court’s warrior might possess. She aims her shoulder for her brother’s flank where the more fragile last rib gave way to the soft skin of his less protected side.
Was she going fast enough? Damned if she knew.
Was she balanced enough? Again, damned if she knew.
Her eyes feast upon his flank. Her mind was made up at last. Only time would tell whether it was a wise move or whether it was as disorganized as it felt. Either way she felt a sense of achievement as she reminded herself she would need to skitter clear of his hind legs – it was a particularly rogue one of those that killed her last time.
“How is Aislinn” Florentine asks, her eyes glittering, her breath a little short. “Been seeing each other long?” The festival had not been the time to ask, but now, now she had her brother’s full and undivided attention. If she was going to die here then she would at least like to know more details on her brother’s secret romance before she did. “You didn’t hang about long after arriving did you?”
@Asterion
Summary:Flora arrives and barges her brother's left flank and then decides to also attack him for details on his romance with Aislinn whilst she is at it.
This is what he pictured, when he thought of battle: a unicorn, black and silver, flinging itself into the fray with a cry like the tolling of some great and terrible bell. A horn as fine and sharp as a rapier, each strike like lightning against a fearsome and deserving foe.
He had never pictured a girl the color of a summer morning, charging at him with flowers trailing behind her. But here she is: hooves a tattoo on the half-frozen ground, wings tucked (these creatures with their wings and horns; how had he ever thought he might be a man made for war?), the look in her eye as wild as his own.
Surely she wouldn’t really hurt him.
She is close. Five lengths away – three – his brain is crying at him to act but his feet keep stupidly planted until she’s so close their shadows meet. Only then does he move, lifting his heels in a little crow-hop. Between his hand of height over her and the added upward movement of his kick, her shoulder misses its intended target, her bulk pressing instead against his left haunch and knocking his trajectory askew.
The bay huffs a breath at the impact as he lands on the hard-packed earth, stumbling once before pivoting after her as her wing brushes by his side.
Not so bad, he thinks, gaze searching for her as she dances clear, and then she speaks.
Normally her question would have been met with a moon-eyed stare but now his ears only lay back as he bounds after her, adrenaline finally settling in to something that feels useful. “What?” he manages, distracted and wondering if the throb of his hindquarters was something more serious than the temporary smart of a blow.
It is strange, knowing little of warrior-Aislinn and only of fireflies-laughing-wine-scented-Aislinn, to picture her in this moment, but at least the thought of her doesn’t shame him the way the thought of his unicorn does.
It still puts a little more desire in his muscles when he bounds for her, flinging his forehooves toward the area of her chest and shoulders, even while he prays not to hit her face.
His breath is a bit ragged when he lands again, but he still manages to reply even as he puts his weight back on his hindquarters and eyes her for a rebuttal. “I thought I was dead when I saw her,” he pants, not noticing how terribly melodramatic it sounds. He’d been fresh out of the rift, utterly alone; as far as he is concerned it’s quite true.
Asterion does not think this is the time for such talk, but as he begins to circle her his tongue has other ideas. “And you’re one to talk!” he says between long draws of cold air. “You never told me you had a … a king." There is more confusion on the word than vitriol; the dreamer is still dazed by the whole state of affairs.
No, this isn’t how he’d pictured a fight at all.
Summary: Asterion crow-hops during her shove,
missing the brunt of it though it knocks him slightly off-balance. Mildly bewildered, he rears and strikes for her chest before beginning to defensively circle her. He finds her line of questioning as discomfiting as the physical aspects of the battle.
The dusk girl ignores her breath that plumes from her flared nostrils, for her gaze is riveted upon the brown, brown boy and his rather startled gaze. She is quite pleased that he wears such a look, for surely it means he may think of her as some unknown quantity capable of unleashing some awe inspiring battle skills. In truth, Florentine is as readable as an open book. Her pages are elaborate drawings – starlit nights and wild flower meadows. There is only one page dedicated to battle and it is a contrast to all the others. Blood runs in rivers and the mountain walls reverberate with the song of screams and the ricochet of rogue magic. Bodies lay strewn, prevailing warriors skittering between them. Florentine was not made for that page; She was flowers and too-sweet honey. Their battle on this rocky outcrop, beneath a clear blue sky and a drowsy morning sun, is as far from that place of death. But the butterflies still flutter their worry against her stomach. Could she die here? It happened so quickly, so easily before… It had been a kick that ended her once and just before the moment of impact, as their shadows do indeed become one, her brother crow-hops away. He kicks up, but her momentum is too much and despite the flash of memory that illuminates before her eyes, the flower girl collides with his rump. The bony point of his buttock crashes against the front of her throat. It is warm where a bruise begins to blossom beneath the worried skin of her neck. Their impact sent Asterion twisting and circling his sister before he rears back towards her. His feet reach out, lashing the air towards her chest. Where Florentine had earlier managed to restrain herself from squealing now was not so easy… A most undignified cry rips from her lips as she notices with just a moment to spare, where his feet (albeit half heartedly) are aimed. Her neck already smarts enough as it is and she is too unskilled to consider that maybe arching her neck to guard her chest may not be the most wise decision she has ever made… Flora brings her head in to her breast with just enough time for Asterion’s hoof to catch a glancing blow across her face. What a cockup, an unhelpful voice chimes within her subconscious. Whilst the graze to her face is only minor in the grand scheme of injuries (she believes her death by crumbled ribcage as a suitable pinnacle for all injuries attained during battle), it is the implications of such an unsightly injury that have her staggering back. Blood begins to blossom over the bony arch of her eye and her skin flushes a hot, angry pink where her brother’s hoof skimmed the golden hair from her face. Little, angry droplets of blood begin to blossom all down the girl’s face his hoof had tracked and her eyes are wide, wide, wide with shock. “I said anywhere, but my face!” She would like to sound impressively angry, instead the words whine their way pathetically from her lips. ”It’s date night tonight, how am I going to explain a black eye to Reich?!” Even as she said it she wonders if, despite the impending black eye she will sport, Reich may award her ‘badass’ points. She would quite like a few of those… As readily as the wind turns, so Florentine’s mind rolls on, driven by his words, “Dead!” She crows around breathless laughter, her amethyst eyes full of mirth. “There are no pretty girls to welcome you in death, although I would not have minded some hunky boys to welcome me…” She muses, dreaming of underworlds and handsome men. She coughs, her voice lowering an octave for the growing bruise upon her neck roughening her voice. She tosses back her head, freeing herself of the ridiculous tangle of hair and petals that persistently fall into her eyes. “Pfft,” The golden girl huffs dismissively. “It’s not a big thing and really we were too busy talking about daddy – who, I hasten to add, was also a king - to really bring up the topic of boyfriends.“ Her voice drops lower mimicking her brother’s earlier exclamation, of the word king. Really, kings were overrated. Through narrowed eyes she surveys her brother wondering where might be another good place to hit him. She was beginning to get a feel for this. She should probably be staying light on her feet or something, ready for any other attack. Instead she stands, huffing at her brother, huffing at the injustice that she now will have a fat eye for her date and a decidedly manly voice. Was this what having brothers was all about? Sibling scraps? Her heart warms with the thought. They were clearly making up for lost time. With gusto and no real idea exactly what she was planning, Florentine throws herself towards her brother. She reaches him in two strides and pivots swiftly, wings flaring to balance her as her hind feet fly out towards his front left knee. If she was going to sport a black eye on her Emissary duties, well, he could hobble about like an old man with a fat knee. The attack is swift and sharp punctuated by a rather pleased, “ha!” Proud with her choice and execution of attack, Flora skitters away her eyes adrenaline bright, her smirk devilish. “So.” Florentine begins again, emboldened and relentless as she drags their conversation back to their most pressing topic. “Aislinn is your idea of heaven huh?” Her breath is ragged, but her effort to make sure he hears each word nice and clearly is admirable. “What do you know about her, hmm?”
@Asterion
Summary: Florentine bruises her neck again Asterion's haunches as he tries to clear her attack and with inexperience blazing thinks it wise to protect her chest from his attack with her face. His hoof grazes her face causing more of a wound to her pride than anything else. She is more effective at dodging his verbal attack than his physical ones (good job they are practicing then eh?) and continues her verbal interrogation over all things Aislinn after trying to kick him in his left knee (front leg). Oh, and there is some very minor PTSD.
He is not prepared for the blossom of blood just above her eye; scattered jewels, they gleam like ill-won rubies against her golden face. Asterion flinches and almost drops the fight to go to her until she speaks again; his fears are allayed by the words and the tone though his only response is to shake his head. The boy is a slow learner: he had not expected his sister to be such a talker, not on the training field.
As he circles her, mindful of the pock-marked earth, she laughs and continues to speak, the bell of her voice ringing and ringing, on and on. And on. Should he be seizing these moments to attack her? His blood is hot beneath his winter coat; he is worried that if he stops moving the bruised muscles of his hindquarters will stiffen and seize.
At the mention of their father his ears twist again; he is still unsure how he feels about Gabriel. She made him sound like…not quite a hero, but neither the wandering, faceless man Asterion had always believed him to be. Certainly she saw him as a good father, whereas he had had no father at all; it was a strange thing, to hold both views in his heart.
If all her talk was to distract him, at last it has worked; he pauses in his circling just as she flings herself forward. Had she struck then, he would have been helpless; later he would imagine the loud snap in the quiet day, the pain that would follow, and shiver.
But they are inexperienced at this as much as being siblings, and by the time she’s pivoting he’s returned to his senses. Asterion shies sideways, missing her hooves entirely; there is only her laugh on the air, her wings flared brilliant and golden, and him wondering if she’d truly meant to maim him.
He doesn’t wait for her wings to close again; as he hooves return to soil he pushes forward, grunting at the weight on his injured leg, seeking to thrust his shoulder, hard, into the place just behind where her wings join her body. He has a face-full of feathers (these, too, smell of flowers) until she peels away.
This time he only stands after the follow-through of his attack, panting, still a little wide-eyed at the near miss of his leg. He’s even more surprised (he shouldn’t be, by now) when her babble of conversation continues, sounding less winded than he feels.
The truth is that he doesn’t know much about Aislinn at all, and neither does he appreciate her leaning on that point. “I know she wouldn’t like me talking about her here,” he says, though it’s more feeling than fact.
But then his expression softens, and he motions toward the Dusk Court. “I’ll tell you what I know on the way home.”
And then they had both better find a battle-coach.
Summary: Asterion grows distracted by her chatter but still manages to avoid her kick. As soon as she's done executing her attack he attacks back, trying to ram his shoulder into her exposed side. Then he stands about and tries not to bristle at her questions.
Asterion should know his sister is a talker, whatever her situation.
Even as Flora’s face stings, each droplet of blood like the bejeweled end of a needle sunk through the thin skin of her face, the flower girl watches her brother. She wonders if her eye might swell and how lucky she really may have been that his hoof did not catch her eye or her nose. Inwardly, Florentine makes a note to remember never to guard her chest with her face again, particularly when there were hooves involved.
Asterion keeps moving and his sister moves with him. Even as she talks and interrogates, the dusk girl never looks away from him. She is learning, or maybe it is sheer fluke and like him she is aware her weary muscles are tightening in the cold autumnal air.
He did not give her long after her final attack, however, for as she steps from him, he plunges after her. Flora hears the churning of feet through soft, wet ground as her brother lunges toward the tender joint where her wing meets her shoulder. But Florentine is wisening up, and, with her wings still spread, she lurches forward and up, her wings beating once, then twice.
Her forward impetus carries the girl clear of her brother’s trajectory and she rises into the sky, the brush of his chest against her feathers warns her how close she came to a full impact.
About one wing she pivots in the air, an ear upon her brother to catch his words. Sky bound winds rush past her face and she feels the wet of her blood over her eye and the cooling balm of the wind against her abraded skin.
Her eyes fall to Asterion’s lame leg and for a moment Florentine feels quite proud of the wounds they would wear home – a testament to their shared first battle. Slowly she lowers to the ground beside him, for his progress would be slow and she did feel quite bad about his wounded limb.
@Asterion
Summary: Flora jumped forward up into the air to clear her from her brother's attack upon her wing joint. She then lands and they walk home together to live happily ever after.
23/30 -- Based on creativity of your offense (originality, imagination, and attention to detail).
1st post: Introductary post, and not judged. This does not count against your score.
2nd post: While not particularly creative, there's only so many moves that equines can do in a fight - so I cannot knock points from this one. It was a very logical attack, as Florentine was in such close quarters!
3rd post: I liked how Florentine tried to take him off guard, so in turn it was almost like he tried to take her off guard, too. While her attack was a little bit more easily avoided, his not so much... what with her still processing the kinetic energy from her own attack. I would expect her to stumble in an effort to avoid him, if I'm honest!
19/25 -- Based on realism of your offense (mechanics and whether you accurately reflect your Health and Attack)
1st post: Introductary post, and not judged. This does not count against your score.
2nd post: Rear attacks are pretty standard for most equine fights, so I would say that this definitely fits right in! I liked how you mentioned him puttings his weight back on his haunches - would make for an easy spring-off to either attack again, or to flee/maneuver away. I deducted a few points because I was initially very confused with "bounds fo rher, flinging his forehooves towards the area of her chest and shoulders." Initially, it sounded as if he ran at her, skidded, and brought his hoof up to paw at her.. but when I read further, I realized it was meant to come across as him rearing at her.
3rd post: Based on how much she might be distracted from her own attack, it seemed like a logical move, for Asterion to try and use the suddenness and his weight/height difference to catch her off guard.
Blocks 19/30
11/15 -- Based on creativity of your defense (originality, imagination, and attention to detail)
1st post: Introductary post, and not judged. This does not count against your score.
2nd post: The idea for crow-hopping to avoid an impact is an interesting one - it immediately brought to mind people "jumping" over speeding cars.
3rd post: Can't even lie, "him wondering if she’d truly meant to maim him" made me giggle! I felt the subtle coyness dripping from just that statement alone.
8/15 -- Based on realism of your defense (mechanics and whether you accurately reflect your Health and Attack)
1st post: Introductary post, and not judged. This does not count against your score.
2nd post: While interesting, I can't say it's completely realistic... I don't think he'd be able to get enough upward movement to be able to significantly avoid any of her impact, and she would probably still land the majority of her impact on his flank.
3rd post: While Florentine's kick was full of emotion and intent, it definitely could have been easily avoided - as was.
Writing Metrics 9/15
4/5 -- Based on overall writing creativity (originality, imagination, and attention to detail)
1st post: The nervousness reads very well through your writing style!
2nd post: You can definitely feel the "switch" in mentality in your writing style. Before, when Asterion is nervous and doesn't know what to do.. your writing focuses a lot on his mental state, thoughts, and words. When the adrenaline starts pumping, you can see your writing style focus more on the physical.
3rd post: There's a little bit of history in his post, and that's wonderful to see! You can definitely tell his personality, and the difference in his and Florentine's upbringing (without even needing to read their histories).
3/5 -- Based on overall realism (how your physical mechanics are described through the writing, and whether you accurately reflect your Health, Attack, Magic Level, and Bonded)
1st post: I particularly liked how you mentioned and worded his distraction from the cold, and the jumpy nerves/itching skin/round-eyes were a very good, detailed touch.
2nd post: I would have liked to see you flesh out the physical aspects of his attack - like posing, stance, etc - a tiny but more! But overall, I felt this was a very nice 'shift' post where you could see his change in mentality :>
3rd post: I liked reading about him 'spacing out' in thought, momentarily before Florentine's kick. It's well worded and especially poignant, because when he shies away it almost gives the impression that he seems perplexed by her off-the-mark attack.
2/5 -- Based on writing metrics (spelling, grammar, punctuation, run-on sentences, etc)
1st post: "To bid him find her, when he was ready" reads a little odd, I'm unsure if that's a spelling mistake?
2nd post: "Hooves a tattoo on the half-frozen ground" is an odd phrase, in my own opinion.. ultimately, I believe I got the point it was trying to make. It just comes across as a non-traditional statement!
3rd post: There seems to be a few commas missing here and there (particularily in the "his fears are allayed by the words and tone[,] though...") as well as a few minor spelling mistakes ("as [he] hooves return to soil"). I feel like there may be a few too many run-on/overly complex sentences in this post, but none of them read bad.
27/30 -- Based on creativity of your offense (originality, imagination, and attention to detail).
1st post: Running head-first into a battle with not even a lick of an idea of how she'll attack... can't say that's exactly smart, but from a standpoint of plot creativity, it sure lends well to that! Aiming for the soft spot behind his ribs was also a very adept move.
2nd post: In my opinion, her attack was the shining star of this post. It's wonderfully creative, and while not completely fool-proof, it certainly showcases her personality. Florentine may be a honey-sweet flower girl.. but the jabs she takes - both here, and at other characters out of spite and jealousy - resound beautifully in her choice of attacks.
3rd post: No attacks in this post, as they have been all used. This does not count against your score.
16/25 -- Based on realism of your offense (mechanics and whether you accurately reflect your Health and Attack)
1st post: While I can't say that shouldering an opponent is realistic to equines, we are talking about ponies with wings and horns! I would have liked to see more description of how exactly she angled her body. Did she shoulder him with the side of her chest/front of her shoulder, or did she attempt to ram into him with the side of her shoulder? Did she approach the attack in a t-bone fashion, or did she suddenly swing her body to the side and go parallel to him for a broader area of impact?
2nd post: Like I said, her attack is the shining star of this post. While creative, it also showed that you put some very extensive thought into it. Not only would this be something that Asterion wouldn't necessarily be expecting the sudden twirl/pivot and kick, but flaring her wings for balance was an exceptionally smart idea.
3rd post: No attacks in this post, as they have been all used. This does not count against your score.
Blocks 20/30
11/15 -- Based on creativity of your defense (originality, imagination, and attention to detail)
1st post: No defense in the first post, per the standard. This does not count against your score.
2nd post: Bringing her (lack of) experience into her 'defense' was a lovely move! Especially fantastic because, while she seems to mentally admit she's lacking in expertise, she still seems indignant.
3rd post: I do like how she tried to use her pegasus(ly??? is that a word?) advantage to try and outsmart his attempt at catching her off guard!
9/15 -- Based on realism of your defense (mechanics and whether you accurately reflect your Health and Attack)
1st post: No defense in the first post, per the standard. this does not count against your score.
2nd post: I'm not going to lie, I absolutely died laughing at "I said anywhere but my face!" Absolutely died. And then questioned my morals, because they're siblings and that's just odd... (I mean, so was likening her brother to Reich, but well. We'll pretend I don't remember that one ;D) While not a smart choice, guarding your throat woudl be realistic if someone was, say, biting at it. But given her inexperience, it's completely plausible for Flor to impulsively think that might be a 'wonderful' idea.
3rd post: And while I do like it in a creative sense, I can't help but wonder if it works in a realistic sense? Taking flight to avoid an attack is definitely possible, but I can't help but think that she would need more than just a quick lurch forward to get her airborn.
Writing Metrics 9/15
4/5 -- Based on overall writing creativity (originality, imagination, and attention to detail)
1st post: Seeing Florentine's own interjections - her own thoughts, insecurities, jealousies, lusts - brought a very realistic note to your writing. While Asterion is visibly nervous... Florentine is too, but in her own way, and it's easy to see between both of your writing styles!
2nd post: I love how they're taking their time outs to bicker at each other about their lovers... sigh, really, you two? ;)
3rd post: This post seems to focus much, much more on the physical aspect than anything else. This is not a bad thing at all, as it's a nice change and shows adaptability!
2/5 -- Based on overall realism (how your physical mechanics are described through the writing, and whether you accurately reflect your Health, Attack, Magic Level, and Bonded)
1st post: Like I stated up in the realism of your offense, I would have liked to see a little more emphasis on body positioning (or lack thereof)!
2nd post: I really do feel like you covered all of your bases with this post! You expanded on a lot of topics: emotions, thoughts, and there was a significantly larger amount of physical-based descriptions.
3rd post: I would have liked to see a little bit more explanation about Florentine's dodge, realism-wise. While it may very well be possible to get her airborn with just two pumps of her wings and a lurch forward... I do feel that it would be massive strenuous on her body. Would have been nice to see the muscle strain put into words!
3/5 -- Based on writing metrics (spelling, grammar, punctuation, run-on sentences, etc)
1st post: Everything looked good - although it seems like you forgot some form of punctuation after "How is Aislinn"?
2nd post: "He may think of her as some unknown quantity capable of..." seems odd. 'Quantity' as a noun does not exactly seem to fit the situation. "Their battle on this rocky outcrop, beneath a clear blue sky and a drowsy morning sun, is as far from that place of death" - 'as far from X' should, grammatically, be used to compare the place to something. So for example, 'as far from that place of death as sunshine was from darkness.' Or, another option would be to make it say 'is far from that place of death,' taking out the 'as.' And "... all down the girl's face [where] his hoof..." is missing the 'where.'
3rd post: I wasn't able to find anything wrong with this post!
the novus crew
the someday crew
01-29-2018, 03:04 AM - This post was last modified: 01-29-2018, 03:04 AM by inkbone
Roll 1: 45 (Asterion)
Roll 2: 66 (Asterion)
Roll 3: 46 (Asterion)
Roll 4: 195 (Florentine)
Roll 5: 139 (Florentine)
@Asterion wins!
Proof of dice rolls: here, found in the Discord "Contests" channel, 1/29/18 @ 3:02a
All damage taken is still applicable and cannot be retconned!
Participate in a Battle or Challenge: +1 EXP to Asterion, +1 EXP to Florentine
Win a Battle: +1 additional EXP to Asterion.
Total: +2 EXP to Asterion, +1 EXP to Florentine.
Both characters' official experience has been updated to reflect these changes, so there's no need to post in the Experience Updates thread!
This thread is now locked and been archived.
the novus crew
the someday crew
01-29-2018, 03:10 AM - This post was last modified: 01-29-2018, 03:12 AM by inkbone
In addition to the above rewards, I would like to extend my sincerest apologies to both @Griffin and @Obsidian - from myself, and the rest of the staff. How long this battle took to judge was 100% unacceptable on our part, and we feel awful about it. ;;
As has been done for previous members whose battles took far too long to job, and knowing this is a poor apology but wanting to recognize our mistakes as staff, both Griffin and Obsidian have been given an additional 300 signos each due to the circumstances surrounding this. We hope to see you guys battle more, and hope that how long our judgements have taken doesn't affect that possibility!
Staff are working on doing better in the future in regards to this.
If you have any questions, please feel free to PM me directly or message me on Discord.
the novus crew
the someday crew
01-29-2018, 03:18 AM - This post was last modified: 01-29-2018, 03:19 AM by inkbone
