I made my entire post under the pretense that Sigurd's attack was aiming at Iolanthe's right leg... though either way, the shield's fall should still protect Iolanthe's left leg.
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Now you're just blatantly condescending me. At least I made my jesting from equally respectful grounds.
And there you go again saying Sigurd is on Iolanthe's right... I can't argue with you because you keep ignoring or incorrectly reading important things. I see him being closer to her left, after a continuous 'lead with the left, pivot, slide the right foot behind left' maneuver, which persisted before and after the single short step he made to try and get at her right.
But it doesn't matter, we can't come to any conclusions spitting at each other. I'd rather wait for @Drifting Pollen's verdicts, than stay and be talked down to.
And there you go again saying Sigurd is on Iolanthe's right... I can't argue with you because you keep ignoring or incorrectly reading important things. I see him being closer to her left, after a continuous 'lead with the left, pivot, slide the right foot behind left' maneuver, which persisted before and after the single short step he made to try and get at her right.
But it doesn't matter, we can't come to any conclusions spitting at each other. I'd rather wait for @Drifting Pollen's verdicts, than stay and be talked down to.
1. Shoulder pauldron =/= body. You said it was impossible to block the sword at all like that... it was blocked.
2. You were mainly arguing about the impossibility of having a spear sweep under your shield. It's under your shield now.
3. I still disagree with that ruling because I don't see Sigurd making a downward chop with a shield under his arm, and she was fully extending her shield like 3 posts prior. But it's done and over with, really, I can live.
I wrote this: "Regardless of if the gladius stabbed him or not" As a means to help you not have to be forced in to taking the hit. But you still need to call it out. I'm starting to automatically translate 'impossible' in to 'really inconvenient for Sigurd.'
2. You were mainly arguing about the impossibility of having a spear sweep under your shield. It's under your shield now.
3. I still disagree with that ruling because I don't see Sigurd making a downward chop with a shield under his arm, and she was fully extending her shield like 3 posts prior. But it's done and over with, really, I can live.
I wrote this: "Regardless of if the gladius stabbed him or not" As a means to help you not have to be forced in to taking the hit. But you still need to call it out. I'm starting to automatically translate 'impossible' in to 'really inconvenient for Sigurd.'
Every time you've said something is impossible, I've done it... I'm starting to feel like a world record breaker... that or a hip young girl who keeps having the popo called on her for playing her new age music too loud.
First of all, Sigurd is practically on Iolanthe's left side, let's get that straight; I've had her make enough pivots, she'd get a 10/10 score in a ballerina dance contest. At the end of the movement where she pulled the hoplon over her shoulder, the flat bottom of her hand would be facing Sigurd. She didn't need to reverse the grip at all, this was the planned angle. This is the angle it'd be most comfortable to raise and lower her shield.
A better argument you could've made is that: The gladius isn't long enough to strike Sigurd's wrist in time. Or: In his drawback, Sigurd narrowly avoided the sneaky blade. I wouldn't have been bothered if you went ahead and posted that, without complaining OOC again.
Let's just get this out of the way early. @Drifting Pollen Obviously Iolanthe can't move her arms without your divine judgment.
First of all, Sigurd is practically on Iolanthe's left side, let's get that straight; I've had her make enough pivots, she'd get a 10/10 score in a ballerina dance contest. At the end of the movement where she pulled the hoplon over her shoulder, the flat bottom of her hand would be facing Sigurd. She didn't need to reverse the grip at all, this was the planned angle. This is the angle it'd be most comfortable to raise and lower her shield.
A better argument you could've made is that: The gladius isn't long enough to strike Sigurd's wrist in time. Or: In his drawback, Sigurd narrowly avoided the sneaky blade. I wouldn't have been bothered if you went ahead and posted that, without complaining OOC again.
Let's just get this out of the way early. @Drifting Pollen Obviously Iolanthe can't move her arms without your divine judgment.
Thud, thud, thud ~ Iolanthe could hear her heart beating fast within her chest, her adrenaline was kicking in. Her iris's, like chestnuts rolling, followed the steel sword as it began to sweep beneath her shield. Time began to slow down, but only in her mind, it was all a side effect of neurotransmitters between her heart and brain. Sigurd likely felt the same sensation in battle, the thrill of do or die.
That sword had to be stopped at all costs, and Iolanthe didn't need to think hard on how to do so, her body was already lowering, she need only let her right leg buckle, and she'd save her exposed lower thigh. Her greave hit the dust, as she knelt before her opponent briefly. The double-plated armoured skirt would catch the tip of Sigurd's sneaky blade, and its loose form would absorb what little momentum swung her way. There was no gap in-between the skirt and her cuirass, so she would take no damage to her stomach if the sword slid further up.
In tandem with the change of stance, Iolanthe saw an opportunity arrive in the splitting of that second. At this time, the tip of her gladius would be pointing outwards, revealed by a glimmer under the sun sticking out from the far side of her hoplon, it pointed straight at Sigurd's neck. The weight of her shield and sword would suddenly stop and come crashing down on the northman's hand at an angle where the blade-point would meet his wrist before he could fully finish drawing his sword out from the shield's shadow. Although Iolanthe had been struggling to outspeed her opponent thus far, she had the advantage of gravity on her side here, making the falling weight of her hoplon extremely dangerous, and quick, without having to put much shoulder muscle in to the maneuver. Regardless of if the gladius stabbed him or not, he was slashing towards the shield, the two steels were bound to clash, and if the longsword were to redirect and dig in to the ground before being drawn back, it might bend.
All the while, Iolanthe's right hand could not hold idle whilst the rest of her body was fighting so hard to survive, she had to kill or incapacitate her opponent to win, and the clenched fist that held Hyperion quivered impatiently unable to wait out that moment. Trickles of blood tarnished bronze, but her veins were saved, she'd fight through the pain. She needn't put to much mental effort in to it, rather instinct took over the second her lance pierced Sigurd's guard. Iolanthe began saw-hacking at his legs almost wildly, whilst transitioning in to her new defensive stance. He could not escape her weapon's range with ease, so she angled her wrist so that the spear's tip began pointing upwards oh so slightly mid-swing, endangering his knees with the next strike, and if unsuccessful, and he backed up more, the length of her blade and its angle would instead begin to saw at his thighs. All Iolanthe had to do was slowly continue to sweep Hyperion towards him, pressuring the burn against Sigurd's legs whilst jabbing her hand in and out from the outside of her shield. Her new stance was a stable one, thus the next series of saw thrusts would be more powerful than the first.
That sword had to be stopped at all costs, and Iolanthe didn't need to think hard on how to do so, her body was already lowering, she need only let her right leg buckle, and she'd save her exposed lower thigh. Her greave hit the dust, as she knelt before her opponent briefly. The double-plated armoured skirt would catch the tip of Sigurd's sneaky blade, and its loose form would absorb what little momentum swung her way. There was no gap in-between the skirt and her cuirass, so she would take no damage to her stomach if the sword slid further up.
In tandem with the change of stance, Iolanthe saw an opportunity arrive in the splitting of that second. At this time, the tip of her gladius would be pointing outwards, revealed by a glimmer under the sun sticking out from the far side of her hoplon, it pointed straight at Sigurd's neck. The weight of her shield and sword would suddenly stop and come crashing down on the northman's hand at an angle where the blade-point would meet his wrist before he could fully finish drawing his sword out from the shield's shadow. Although Iolanthe had been struggling to outspeed her opponent thus far, she had the advantage of gravity on her side here, making the falling weight of her hoplon extremely dangerous, and quick, without having to put much shoulder muscle in to the maneuver. Regardless of if the gladius stabbed him or not, he was slashing towards the shield, the two steels were bound to clash, and if the longsword were to redirect and dig in to the ground before being drawn back, it might bend.
All the while, Iolanthe's right hand could not hold idle whilst the rest of her body was fighting so hard to survive, she had to kill or incapacitate her opponent to win, and the clenched fist that held Hyperion quivered impatiently unable to wait out that moment. Trickles of blood tarnished bronze, but her veins were saved, she'd fight through the pain. She needn't put to much mental effort in to it, rather instinct took over the second her lance pierced Sigurd's guard. Iolanthe began saw-hacking at his legs almost wildly, whilst transitioning in to her new defensive stance. He could not escape her weapon's range with ease, so she angled her wrist so that the spear's tip began pointing upwards oh so slightly mid-swing, endangering his knees with the next strike, and if unsuccessful, and he backed up more, the length of her blade and its angle would instead begin to saw at his thighs. All Iolanthe had to do was slowly continue to sweep Hyperion towards him, pressuring the burn against Sigurd's legs whilst jabbing her hand in and out from the outside of her shield. Her new stance was a stable one, thus the next series of saw thrusts would be more powerful than the first.
So I had some time to think it over. The main problem I had with your last post, where I figured we had two separate views on how the fights scene looked, was the location of Iolanthe's shield. (Which had been a mostly ignored question I asked, to my digression and annoyance.) I figured it was still under Sigurd's arm and sword, pushing up, whilst I assume you believe he swung his sword too fast, thus sneaking it under Iolanthe's hoplon. After a bit of thinking it over, and while I could try and argue the point, it then dawned on me that this new positioning isn't that hopeless.
Also, in terms of the 'between Sigurd's legs' phrasing - well - I saw Sigurd facing Iolanthe sideways, so if she made a sweeping attack, I wasn't 100% sure which leg would be struck first, so 'between' seemed a fine bargain, in case he tried to jump over it or his left leg stretched out of reach. (Unlikely but possible with effort.)
Also, in terms of the 'between Sigurd's legs' phrasing - well - I saw Sigurd facing Iolanthe sideways, so if she made a sweeping attack, I wasn't 100% sure which leg would be struck first, so 'between' seemed a fine bargain, in case he tried to jump over it or his left leg stretched out of reach. (Unlikely but possible with effort.)
Since it was honestly already replied to, I figure it'd be better if I just posted that skit, and work on another response later. Ak!
This'll at least get Hope out of the fire, cause I'm having trouble keeping up!
Maybe someone will be interested in stopping her from creating a huge scene?
Maybe her and Rebecca will team up and destroy the other avatars for ruining their days?
Find out next time!
This'll at least get Hope out of the fire, cause I'm having trouble keeping up!
Maybe someone will be interested in stopping her from creating a huge scene?
Maybe her and Rebecca will team up and destroy the other avatars for ruining their days?
Find out next time!
The back of Hope's hand pressed tight to her forehead as the other avatars spoke, her playful teasing had gone astray, and now they were ganging up on her. Her lie, akin to her prank, was failing miserably. The handsome Vuduin had left the table already, upon noticing the drama rising. Her prey fled! She had already scared him off! Germaine, the other pretty boy, nearly joined in on the sneering party, but of course he was more proper than the rest, and wasn't so easily provoked, he showed a grain of interest in Hope's knowledge, but garnished some distaste as well. Obviously, Hope sought those two for a good reason, the rest weren't as interesting now that their second faces were so easily slapped on, and their reactions became so extravagant.
"Oh, what do my visions suddenly forsee? Hmmm... another Avatar approaches..." Hope grumbled under her breath, purposely loud enough just for those intent on hearing. Of course, she was still gambling on her game, and the other avatars were relentless in their attempt to insult, degrade, and condescend her. Though she did the same.
Rebecca was the one to finally ask, and Hope quickly addressed the issue. "Obviously, I am the avatar of Hoopa, and these clothes... although 'garish' in your culture of un-aging prepubescent schoolboys... are simple dancer's robes! I am indeed a performer... Do I not appeal to the eye? Oh? Don't answer that, I already can tell your biased opinions of me will sway your answer." She addressed the entire group of avatars now. "I am Hope, a traveling psychic, a dancer, a fortune teller, and a nomad with no true home. Call me what you like, but be warned..." She'd gleam at each avatar, every time they began thinking cruel thoughts about her. Her lips did not move once, her voice would echo loudly, almost painfully in the other avatars minds. ~I know exactly what you're really thinking!~ Hope's eyes glowed a bright pink as she projected these thoughts.
A strange raincloud grew overhead, as Hope closed her eyes and turned her face upright... a raindrop fell upon her, and she embraced it.
"Thus, I find it funny that you request equality, yet continue to condescend and order me around. I suppose I could suddenly turn cheek to your insulting... painful words, and try to be the better person. But it'd matter not. The opinions of cowards who turn down a chance to be heroes mean nothing to me." As Hope continued to hypocritically address every spite sent her way, she'd begin to catch on to Seras's little gem gimmick. Her hand obviously felt the shift. The scepter would be tossed aside moments before flying in to her hand, whilst the hand that once held it reached to place over the woman's own heart.
Meanwhile, Hope began to prepare Tantalus's demise, a simple act. Rebecca might be the only one to notice, but it'd be too vague to decipher what happened. Her spicy meatball would shirk and shiver for a moment, however it was actually due to a little trick Hope was playing... a little switcharoo, she'd steal a chunk out of the inside of Rebecca's spicy meal, and warp it in to Tantalus's bottle of Pinot Noir. His eyes were of course glaring cruelly at Hope the entire time, he wouldn't notice a thing. Hope's left hand was twirling its finger around, aiming at the avatars.
"As for your offers, I must kindly decline. I will not be bribed or ordered around by a boy who is scared of responsibility. You see, I was testing you this entire time, and..." Hope would suddenly stop mid sentence... eerily pausing for about ten seconds, as she awaited what she knew was about to happen. Two more avatars had barged in. The first, Rayquaza's host, who instantly began apologizing to the others for his prior outbursts. The second, Lugia's host stood outside after tossing Porygon straight through the window, his method of ruining the avatar's dinner was more accidental, but majestic in its own right. Hope seemed unphased at first, but only she might believe he truly came in peace.
"Ahem..." Hope cleared her throat, before continuing. "As I said, you failed my test, fairy boy. I'll indeed continue to cause you trouble... I intend to reveal to the entire crowd outside the truth about you... how you've done nothing but kill Xerneas in order to steal his power. How most of you cower at the idea of heroism. Do feel free to stop me, little boy. But I doubt you'd be able to... I can read you like a book! You're just too weak." Hope smirked, and turned her back on the avatars at this point.
After failing at provoking the kind of response she wanted, Hope figured her chances at recruiting any of these avatars were impossible. By now, she played too deep in to her charade, she'd need to back it up somehow. Challenging Xerneas might prove eventful in the meantime, unless Seras tried to interfere again and stop him, or he act too high and mighty. Overall, she'd begin to exit through the broken window where Lugia's avatar might enter, with a nasty grin stretching her cheeks wide.
"Good luck in there, kid, it's a tough crowd." Hope winked at Lucas on her way out.
"Oh, what do my visions suddenly forsee? Hmmm... another Avatar approaches..." Hope grumbled under her breath, purposely loud enough just for those intent on hearing. Of course, she was still gambling on her game, and the other avatars were relentless in their attempt to insult, degrade, and condescend her. Though she did the same.
Rebecca was the one to finally ask, and Hope quickly addressed the issue. "Obviously, I am the avatar of Hoopa, and these clothes... although 'garish' in your culture of un-aging prepubescent schoolboys... are simple dancer's robes! I am indeed a performer... Do I not appeal to the eye? Oh? Don't answer that, I already can tell your biased opinions of me will sway your answer." She addressed the entire group of avatars now. "I am Hope, a traveling psychic, a dancer, a fortune teller, and a nomad with no true home. Call me what you like, but be warned..." She'd gleam at each avatar, every time they began thinking cruel thoughts about her. Her lips did not move once, her voice would echo loudly, almost painfully in the other avatars minds. ~I know exactly what you're really thinking!~ Hope's eyes glowed a bright pink as she projected these thoughts.
A strange raincloud grew overhead, as Hope closed her eyes and turned her face upright... a raindrop fell upon her, and she embraced it.
"Thus, I find it funny that you request equality, yet continue to condescend and order me around. I suppose I could suddenly turn cheek to your insulting... painful words, and try to be the better person. But it'd matter not. The opinions of cowards who turn down a chance to be heroes mean nothing to me." As Hope continued to hypocritically address every spite sent her way, she'd begin to catch on to Seras's little gem gimmick. Her hand obviously felt the shift. The scepter would be tossed aside moments before flying in to her hand, whilst the hand that once held it reached to place over the woman's own heart.
Meanwhile, Hope began to prepare Tantalus's demise, a simple act. Rebecca might be the only one to notice, but it'd be too vague to decipher what happened. Her spicy meatball would shirk and shiver for a moment, however it was actually due to a little trick Hope was playing... a little switcharoo, she'd steal a chunk out of the inside of Rebecca's spicy meal, and warp it in to Tantalus's bottle of Pinot Noir. His eyes were of course glaring cruelly at Hope the entire time, he wouldn't notice a thing. Hope's left hand was twirling its finger around, aiming at the avatars.
"As for your offers, I must kindly decline. I will not be bribed or ordered around by a boy who is scared of responsibility. You see, I was testing you this entire time, and..." Hope would suddenly stop mid sentence... eerily pausing for about ten seconds, as she awaited what she knew was about to happen. Two more avatars had barged in. The first, Rayquaza's host, who instantly began apologizing to the others for his prior outbursts. The second, Lugia's host stood outside after tossing Porygon straight through the window, his method of ruining the avatar's dinner was more accidental, but majestic in its own right. Hope seemed unphased at first, but only she might believe he truly came in peace.
"Ahem..." Hope cleared her throat, before continuing. "As I said, you failed my test, fairy boy. I'll indeed continue to cause you trouble... I intend to reveal to the entire crowd outside the truth about you... how you've done nothing but kill Xerneas in order to steal his power. How most of you cower at the idea of heroism. Do feel free to stop me, little boy. But I doubt you'd be able to... I can read you like a book! You're just too weak." Hope smirked, and turned her back on the avatars at this point.
After failing at provoking the kind of response she wanted, Hope figured her chances at recruiting any of these avatars were impossible. By now, she played too deep in to her charade, she'd need to back it up somehow. Challenging Xerneas might prove eventful in the meantime, unless Seras tried to interfere again and stop him, or he act too high and mighty. Overall, she'd begin to exit through the broken window where Lugia's avatar might enter, with a nasty grin stretching her cheeks wide.
"Good luck in there, kid, it's a tough crowd." Hope winked at Lucas on her way out.
Hmmmmm, doesn't seem like it'll matter if I post or not anymore... so... I'm going to delay that till tonight.
I'm heading out of town for the day, I'll be back tonight to post, sorry for such a long delay, after dragging everyone in to being super active IC...
I'm heading out of town for the day, I'll be back tonight to post, sorry for such a long delay, after dragging everyone in to being super active IC...
I need to draw you a picture of how I imagine our two characters are fighting. We're both seeing a completely different scene, and that is unacceptable. We need to agree on one positioning, (probably have it agreed on by Pollen because we can't come to agree on much without her.) and roll with that.
For now I need to head out of town for the day, when I return I'll make a rough sketch.
For now I need to head out of town for the day, when I return I'll make a rough sketch.
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