Life Is But A Dream...
Mad men define what mad is
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Post by fleabittengray on Jan 9, 2014 5:21:47 GMT -7
The sky is dark gray and angry. There is almost no sunlight. The snow has turned to slippery, watery slush and the ice is cracking. It is warmer out and a light drizzle has started. It is still windy and thunder can be heard in the distance. Each player still does two posts each and they must be 1000 words or less. Remember to include previous injuries or points will be deducted. Zohyd// will post first with Fancy As Hell followed by Gray with Marilyn Manson
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Wishful thinking poisons the heart and soul.
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WE Crazy
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Post by Zohyd// on Jan 9, 2014 5:53:54 GMT -7
ooc' You said you were giving your character injuries. Could I please have a note of what they are since my character goes a lot off of injuries? It will help me plan my attacks.
Thank you.
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Life Is But A Dream...
Mad men define what mad is
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he/she/they
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15,002 posts
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points
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Moderator
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Post by fleabittengray on Jan 9, 2014 6:15:38 GMT -7
Zohyd// what are fancy's injuries? i'll try and make them even c:
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Wishful thinking poisons the heart and soul.
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WE Crazy
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Post by Zohyd// on Jan 9, 2014 7:21:35 GMT -7
Round One: Large chunk of skin missing up by her crest, irritating mark under barrel, scrapes on side, sore rib
Round Two: Knot in her haunch muscle- cramps up if standing too long, large bump/knot behind her right audit that is painful and irritating, bloody surface scrape on her neck
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Life Is But A Dream...
Mad men define what mad is
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he/she/they
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15,002 posts
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points
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Post by fleabittengray on Jan 9, 2014 8:32:34 GMT -7
hmm... tell me if this seems fair <3
left eye is swollen shut scrape on his withers and right shoulder, mild bleeding bruised chest which makes moving difficult skin torn on his right forearm, mild bleeding
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Wishful thinking poisons the heart and soul.
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WE Crazy
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Post by Zohyd// on Jan 9, 2014 8:36:44 GMT -7
Sounds good to me. I will get a post up as soon as I can. Thank you luffs <3
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Life Is But A Dream...
Mad men define what mad is
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he/she/they
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15,002 posts
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points
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Post by fleabittengray on Jan 9, 2014 8:56:08 GMT -7
okay, can't wait! <3
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Wishful thinking poisons the heart and soul.
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WE Crazy
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Post by Zohyd// on Jan 9, 2014 12:31:26 GMT -7
back the f*** off {beauty is skin-deep; ugly cuts to the bone} Time for round three against one named Marilyn Manson. A loud clap of thunder allowed itself to be known as Fancy as Hell entered the ring. It was as if the ruler of hell was applauding Fancy thus far for her performance- but it was no time to get too cocky as she still had many rounds ahead of her. Thick limbs carried the seventeen point one hand dappled wench to the center of the ring. The sky had grown dark, and the unforgiving clouds were beginning to let down light precipitation. It was warmer now and the ice that once covered the arena floor was beginning to crack and the snow was melting into slush. This did not mean that the area was safe though. It was still slippery and dangerous and she would have to watch her movements just as much. A gust of wind swept through the arena, causing silver tresses to tangle around Fancy’s façade. She had a softer appearance at this moment- due to the fact that her last match had put a large bump behind her right audit. Pinning her ears was practically impossible and the bump was irritating- oh how she couldn’t wait until it went down. The haunch muscle that had been kicked by the same opponent wasn’t as easy to work out as she had hoped. If she stood still too long the muscle began cramping becoming extremely painful. She needed more time to work it out- but that was not something she had. As long as she kept it warm and stayed moving then its pain was tolerable. Her massive boa had blood stained along it- not all of it hers. The bite mark along the top of her crest from round one had stopped bleeding, but the slash across her boa was still slightly oozing but nothing close to the fear of blood loss. Green orbs had caught sight of her new opponent. The name Marilyn Manson sounded feminine- but the creature coming towards her was a stallion. If this was any other situation then she would be giving the creature an earful; however she was here to fight. Finally she had a competitor close to her size; maybe she had an inch on him. Her substance was still larger than his, but not by much. It was clear the baroque Friesian breeding lied within him somewhere but whatever he was mixed with was unknown. Orbs took in the ebon brute’s injuries as he approached- well those that she could see. His left orb had become swollen making that left side the side she would go for, it would be his weakness. Scuffs were along his withers and right shoulder that had mild bleeding along with a mark on his right forelimb. His gait seemed off just the slightest, but Fancy couldn’t quite tell what was causing it. Hopefully during the fight she would be able to pin point it and use it to her advantage. As her opponent came nearer Fancy allowed herself to go into her usual prance position. Her right haunch protested for a moment before giving in- she had stood there too long. This was a good way to get it warmed back up and somewhat loose again. At this point the endorphins and adrenaline were beginning to run through her veins and the pains and irritations her body had were beginning to subside slightly. The prancing technique kept her light on her feet as she moved maybe only an inch to the right with each step. Small steps saved energy and kept her calm and collected. No use in jumping around like an idiot that hadn’t acted like they’d ever been in a fight before! Again, Fancy is the aggressor and she want to make the first move. She chose her opponents left side to attack, hoping his swollen orb had some impact upon his vision. Hind daggers dug deep into the ice as she lurched herself forward at an acute angle- not quite t-boning him. Her attacks could now have more power and body weight behind them as her opponent too had a slightly draft appearance- his reactions wouldn’t be as fast as her last couple small opponents. Left for dagger was aimed directly for his skull, hoping she would land in that eye region yet again- taking away his left side completely for the fighting would be a leg up in the battle. Right dagger aimed for the front of his shoulder blade. The power behind could still dislocate the shoulder blade from this angle- but there were other vulnerable areas with this attack. You have the spinal cord that runs just a few inches to the left then the point of shoulder or this chest if she aims too low. Her weight was behind this attack, knowing that if their bodies collided it would be a solid hit for both of them. About time she got somebody her own size to pick on. Ivories aimed for his jugular- about five inches below the throat latch area. Smart equines fought to protect these vulnerable areas and she wasn’t going to underestimate her ebon opponent. So by aiming a little lower she could still get an impacting shot even with his dial tucked in. Fancy would want to keep their bodies close in this fight. One charging the other was slightly pointless- he was close enough in size that although it would still feel like a brick wall had hit him, it could also feel like Fancy herself ran into a brick wall. At this point she wanted to avoid that with a larger equine not wanting to push the luck of her sore rib. Although it was one of the last ribs in her rib cage and even if it did break it wouldn’t interfere with her lung or other internal organs it would still be a painful injury to play through and accommodate to. words; 993 (According to Microsoft Word) tag; fleabittengraystats; Name- Fancy as Hell Breed- Percheron Age- 4 Gender- Mare Height- 17.1hh Alliance- Dark Health- Round One: Large chunk of skin missing up by her crest, irritating mark under barrel, scrapes on side, sore rib Round Two: Knot in her haunch muscle- cramps up if standing too long, large bump/knot behind her right audit that is painful and irritating, bloody surface scrape on her neck Attack: 1.) Aimed her left dagger for his skull, hoping to hit his eyeball or just above it. Right dagger aimed for the front of his shoulder blade to go beneath it. She has put her body weight behind this attack. 2.) Aiming to bite his wind pipe area about five inches down from the throat latch area. TEMPLATE BY ELIZA @ Delusional & SP
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Life Is But A Dream...
Mad men define what mad is
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Post by fleabittengray on Jan 10, 2014 6:47:36 GMT -7
Name- Marilyn Manson Breed- Frisian x Arabian x Thoroughbred Age- 3 Gender- xy Height- 17 Alliance- Dark Health- Physical: left eye is swollen shut; scrape on his withers and right shoulder, mild bleeding; bruised chest which makes moving difficult; skin torn on his right forearm, mild bleeding; hairline fracture in his left shoulder, hinders his movement
The day was warming up but it was still cold enough that the ice was taking its time to melt. The clouds above were thick and dark gray - a sign that a storm was on its way. With the warming weather and the light drizzle that had started a few minutes ago, the chance of it being a blizzard was slim. Thunder rolled in the distance but thus far he had seen no lightening so the storm was still a ways off. How long would it take for the storm to come to them? He didn't know. He was going to guess by the next round it would be pouring rain and lightning would serve as the only source of light. The sun was already hidden behind the clouds, darkening the arena. He would use that to his advantage. He was a creature of darkness. He crept about during the night, when all other equines were asleep. Darkness was his friend. He wasn't a big fan of the sun. Smiling slightly, the pale-eyed hellbeast lifted his crown and observed the mare standing before him. She was just about an inch taller than himself and she, too, had the blood of a draft horse. She was bulkier than himself. He had long, toned legs with thick black feathering while her legs were bigger and heavier. She was broader than him, he did not have the body of a frisian, aside from long wavy locks that fell below his neck and his tail dragged slightly in the slush. His face and neck were that of an Arabian and his body built like a thoroughbred. She had more muscle mass than he did but he had a more agile build. This was going to be an interesting fight.
It started quickly. One minute the mare, dubbed Fancy As Hell, came lunging for him. His body tense but he had no time to get away. She had come for his left side. With a snort, he flung his head away from her, narrowly missing the hoof directed at his face, but he did not have the time to protect his shoulder. He backed up a step, nearly slipping on the slush, but her attack landed. Instantly, pain shot through his whole leg and he snarled, tearing away from the mare and darting forward just as she went for his neck. She missed, lucky for him. In retaliation, he kicked out with both hind limbs, aiming for her face and chest. It was a difficult move for him to do with is bruised chest and hurt shoulder and when all four feet touched down on the icy mess beneath him, he slipped. Scrambling to gather himself together again, he spun to look at the mare, sizing her up. He did not see many injuries, it looked like she hadn't even been in two previous rounds, but he knew that she was hurt. She had to be. Pondering over his options, Manson pranced in place before lurching forward, his maw open as he reached for the right side of the mare's neck. His shoulder sent waves of pain with each movement he made and his chest ached with each step but he didn't let that stop him from trying to take her down.
Normally, Manson wasn't a big fighter. He preferred to talk things out. He liked having intelligent conversations instead of just ripping someone's face off but that didn't stop him from sending a sideways kick at the mare's right foreleg. Legs were important to a horse. Injury them and you could easily get in the lead. Not that he would advance in the tournament. He was merely here to fill in for someone else. He didn't mind. It was probably good to get battle practice. Shaking his head, the ebonite beast once more pulled away from her and trotted back around to the front of her, a limp clearly obvious. He grit his teeth against the pain and waited, constantly moving, waiting for the next attack.
ooc: attacks: ran at her right side and tried to bite her neck and then sent a sideways kick to her right foreleg dodges: flung his head away and avoided the hoof to the head; ran forward when she went to bite his neck, avoiding the bite
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Wishful thinking poisons the heart and soul.
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WE Crazy
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Post by Zohyd// on Jan 12, 2014 9:56:25 GMT -7
back the f*** off {beauty is skin-deep; ugly cuts to the bone} Her ebon opponent had more nimble moving breeds in him; it was clear in the way he was built. However she was hoping that enough of the baroque breeding was in him to make him a little heavier on his feet. Already being around seventeen hands would make it harder for him to move as quickly as some of the shorter equines, but he was still built lighter than she and still probably more agile. Don’t underestimate large equines though. A few of them went against nature, her being one, and were able to move rather quickly and react faster than most. However she liked to thank that to the hours of training she had put into her fighting. Many battles and countless hours of conditioning. Trotting through water and snow, hill exercises, intervals and distance. Fancy as Hell had drills up the ass to keep herself in the best shape possible. You had to be in pristine shape if you were going to be doing a fighting tournament and didn’t want to come out broken in the end. Left dagger had just missed the collision with his face, but her right dagger was a direct hit. She could hear him snarl as he pulled away the lurched forward, causing her ivories to miss her target. Fancy already prepared herself for what was coming; it was obvious what his attack would be when you have your haunches next to an equine in the battle. Hell there’s only one thing they can do at that point… and that’s kick out. Massive boa lifted high, her dial flinging into the air as she wanted to avoid a blow to the face. However she felt a dagger land square in her chest. Immediately a hoofmark could be seen in a welt formation. It was painful, but she knew if she took one of those daggers to the face it would’ve been worse. As he came down from his kick Fancy saw him begin to slip, at that point she didn’t waste another second. Haunches pushed her forward as she parted that maw again to grab a chunk off of his right haunch. Left hind gave way from the slippery ice, her attack not being quite as powerful as she hoped- she’d be lucky if she managed to tear any skin. As she landed pain rushed through her chest and the dappled wench cursed under her breath. Immediately she jumped back giving her chest a second to recover. Her endorphins needed to kick in a little faster to dull the pain. Green orbs watched her opponent turn around to face her. He was evaluating her, looking for a place to strike. She watched as his muscles and tendons began to move, helping him prance. Fancy too let herself begin to prance as she prepared herself for whatever he might try to throw at her. Finally he was going to make his move. She watched as his muscles coiled up before he sprung forward to her right side. Seventeen point one hand mare went to move sideways however the ice limited the distance she could actually move- and it turned out it wasn’t going to be enough to dodge his bite. He came in contact with her previous surface scrape that was already bleeding. Out of pain and anger she swung that dial of hers around and went to try and pull a chunk of skin off of his withers. Her large bodice was too swinging around as she attempted to tear a chunk from his canvas. Once again she knew that kick was going to be coming. Dappled wench went to push herself backwards however both daggers slid forward on the skating rink of the arena. Her whole upper bodice fell to the ice. Green orbs saw that foot flying towards her and there was nothing she could do. She attempted to raise her dial away from the blow but he still made direct contact with the maxilla bone on the right side of her façade, just below where her nasal and maxilla bone meet. A grunt of pain escaped from her vocals as she managed to get back up to her feet- not knowing yet what the damage was to her face. It was painful and stinging against the cool breeze. Blood was gushing from it, she could tell as it trickled down her face around her nostrils and maw. It was deep and had had to be exposing muscle. Luckily the light drizzle would help clean it up a bit until she could tend to it later. Head was now throbbing as Fancy pulled herself together. She was trying to move too fast on the skating rink and it was getting her in trouble. Her next attack would have to be well thought out. Orbs watched as the ebon brute limped to face her. Again that left side was his weak side and it was his front limb. She needed to plan her attack where he would try and push off of it and it would clearly slow him down. Fancy began prancing again, picking her angle. Dial flung irritably tossing her crimson blood across the arena floor. She placed herself close enough that when she lunged he wouldn’t have much time to react. This time the dappled wench went for the t-bone attack. Muscles coiled and then released forward and up. Right dagger aimed to hit directly behind his shoulder blade, hoping this would dislocate it completely. Left limb was aimed to over his boa as her ivories wanted contact with his withers. If her right limb was a successful hit then bringing this ebon brute down would be easy. That was her goal after all. Dislocate the shoulder with the right dagger, while her weight and strength would pull him to the ground. Large horses fall hard- and Fancy wasn’t about to go easy, might as well let him know how it felt to body slam into ice. words; 998 (According to Microsoft Word) tag; fleabittengraystats; Name- Fancy as Hell Breed- Percheron Age- 4 Gender- Mare Height- 17.1hh Alliance- Dark Health- Round One: Large chunk of skin missing up by her crest, irritating mark under barrel, scrapes on side, sore rib Round Two: Knot in her haunch muscle- cramps up if standing too long, large bump/knot behind her right audit that is painful and irritating, bloody surface scrape on her neck Round Three: Kick to the chest, immediate welt. Got a chunk from the right side of her boa where she already had a scrape. Took a huge blow to the face. Deep cut with exposed muscle- bleeding down her face. Attack: 1.) After he came down from kicking her chest she went to tear a chunk out of his haunch. 2.) When he bit her on the right side she swung her dial around and went to take a chunk from his withers. 3.) Came in at a 90 degree angle to attack. Right dagger is aimed to hit behind the shoulder blade hoping to dislocate it while her left leg went to go over his boa and her ivories to his withers to hopefully try and have him body slam himself into the ice. TEMPLATE BY ELIZA @ Delusional & SP
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Life Is But A Dream...
Mad men define what mad is
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Post by fleabittengray on Jan 13, 2014 9:28:13 GMT -7
Name- Marilyn Manson Breed- Frisian x Arabian x Thoroughbred Age- 3 Gender- xy Height- 17 Alliance- Dark Health- Physical: 1 - left eye is swollen shut 2 - scrape on his withers and right shoulder, mild bleeding 3 - bruised chest which makes moving difficult 4 - skin torn on his right forearm, mild bleeding 5 - hairline fracture in his left shoulder, hinders his movement 6 - small bruise on right hip 7 - dislocated left shoulder 8 - bruised left side 9 - gash on the left side of his ribcage from the ice; moderate bleeding 10 - more scrapes on his withers; little bleeding
Really, Manson wasn't enjoying this tournament shindig but he had agreed to fill in when there were not enough gladiators in the tournament. He had only done it to get practice, which he clearly needed, He hadn't fought in ages and now here he was up against someone who obviously kept herself in shape for fighting. It was clear that she had a better chance of winning but that didn't mean he couldn't try and win. He had underestimated her because of her size, something he should have known better than to do. She was quite fast, more swift than a draft usually was. He felt like he should congratulate her on doing so well. But he could think about that later. Right now he had a battle to finish. This round was almost over and he had gathered quite a few injuries but he knew that once the mare attacked him again he would have more. His shoulder was starting to ache more and it was difficult to move or put weight on it, but he was trying his hardest not to let it show too much. One of the big rules of battles was never to show any weakness. If he was needed in the next round, perhaps he would do better; if he could move his shoulder, that is!
There was a sharp pain in his shoulder, one that shot down his whole leg, when he kicked out at the mare's chest area. He felt one hoof make a hard impact against her chest and he snorted in delight. His achievement was short lived, however. He could hear the mare moving toward him as he struggled on the ice, managing to get back onto his feet and jump forward a step, though he still felt her teeth pinch the skin of his right hip. It was not a serious injury, there was no blood, just a bruise that barely hindered his movements. Had he not already been slipping, he would have kicked out at Fancy a second time, but he wasn't sure his shoulder could stand another kick. It hurt just putting weight on it. He would have to take it easy after this fight if he wanted his shoulder to heal properly.
The two equines both began to prance and Manson smiled at the mare in an almost friendly way. He had nothing against her. She was a good fighter and he could learn a thing or two from her. But that would have to wait until after the battle was done and it wasn't over just yet. At least his attacks had landed. He could taste blood on his tongue as he bit at her and he smirked before letting out a grunt of annoyance when she bit ather withers. He yanked himself away, resulting in more scrapes with minimal bleeding, but the chilled air made it sting, as well as the drizzle that was still steadily falling from the angry clouds above. His withers were forgotten when he felt his kick land perfectly, though it wasn't Fancy's leg that had been kicked. The mare had slid on the ice, putting her face in the direct path of his kick. He heard the grunt of pain from the mare and smiled to himself, prancing away from her though his limp had become more obvious.
It was the mare's turn to attack now and the black knight was ready for her. And what an attack it was! He hardly had a chance to react by the time the female had lunged for him. He sidestepped, almost tripping over a crack in the ice, and let out a pain filled noise as her hoof came in contact with his shoulder. The pain was blinding but that wasn't all he had to deal with. In those few brief seconds when he had been overtaken by pain, the mare had the time to pull him down. Realizing he was falling, he scrambled to get his footing. His front end slid and he fell onto his side, feeling a piece of ice rip open his barrel. He snorted, heaving himself up onto his hooves and turning to face the mare. It was no use trying to lunge at her, his shoulder wouldn't allow it, but he moved as close as he could before rearing up onto his hind legs. His left leg was pulled close to his body as the right piston kicked at Fancy's face, walking forward a few steps on his hind legs before coming back down to all fours.
ooc: no muse whatsoever >.< attacks: 1- ran at her right side and tried to bite her neck and then sent a sideways kick to her right foreleg 2 - reared up and kicked at her face with his right leg
dodges: 1 - flung his head away and avoided the hoof to the head 2 - ran forward when she went to bite his neck, avoiding the bite
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Wishful thinking poisons the heart and soul.
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WE Crazy
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Post by Zohyd// on Jan 13, 2014 15:37:30 GMT -7
back the f*** off {beauty is skin-deep; ugly cuts to the bone} Name- Fancy as Hell Breed- Percheron Age- 4 Gender- Mare Height- 17.1hh Alliance- Dark Health- Round One: Large chunk of skin missing up by her crest, irritating mark under barrel, scrapes on side, sore rib
Round Two: Knot in her haunch muscle- cramps up if standing too long, large bump/knot behind her right audit that is painful and irritating, bloody surface scrape on her neck
Round Three: Kick to the chest, immediate welt. Got a chunk from the right side of her boa where she already had a scrape. Took a huge blow to the face. Deep cut with exposed muscle- bleeding down her face.
When Manson reared up Fancy, already very careful of her face at this moment, moved it away, taking a kick to now the left side of her boa.
This may now be judged. Good luck Gray <3
TEMPLATE BY ELIZA @ Delusional & SP
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THE SAS QUEEN
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Post by ღ ∂ιѕαѕтєя ღ on Jan 16, 2014 13:14:49 GMT -7
Gray with Marilyn Manson Battle Form Completed Each Time:10 Comments: Completed. No Powerplaying/Godmodding:10 Comments: Perfect. 1000 Words Or Less:10 Comments: Both posts less than 1000. Correct Setting:10 Comments: Correct. Realistic Attacks:10 Comments:Realistic. Realistic Dodges:10 Comments:Realistic Realistic Injuries:10 Comments:Realistic Spelling/Grammar:9.5 Comments:Spelling was perfect :3, grammar could be better. It got a bit dull at times, however, you were a little museless which I understand. Total Score:79.5 Zohyd with Fancy as Hell Battle Form Completed Each Time:10 Comments: Completed. No Powerplaying/Godmodding:10 Comments:Completed 1000 Words Or Less:10 Comments:Both posts 990 Correct Setting:10 Comments:Correct Realistic Attacks:10 Comments:Realistic Realistic Dodges:10 Comments:Realistic Realistic Injuries:10 Comments:Realistic Spelling/Grammar:10 Comments:Awesome! Of course grammar could always be better but it was great. Total Score:80 These battles seem to always be close in scores. Just .5 off Great job guys, Zohyd// wins!
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