@SaintRice You know, just realized how bad this might seem looking from outside. A big, beefy dude pinning down a girl by sitting on her, eh?
I think the general consensus is you are the one lacking logic here with your actions. You expect everyone to notice little details for you without you having to bring them up. It was honestly considered by everyone from what I can see, an IC misunderstanding. One would assume if that was the case, you would deal with it... IC. Not throw a fit over it OOC. Nothing but minor, difficult to spot details gave away it was an OOC issue not an IC one.
We are all here to enjoy writing and write a good story together, not to sit around picking apart each other's posts for them to try and find issues that need to be addressed. It's not the GM's job to pick your post apart looking for inconsistencies. She's here to enjoy the RP just as much as the rest of us.
You saying things like "where I am allowed to hope that a GM will notice inconsistencies without my having to point it out both IC and OOC."
That just makes it kinda sound like you are just upset because you didn't want to bring it up, and are now mad because other people didn't pick up on it without you bringing it up which is a dumb thing to be upset about since you very well could have just brought it up OOC.
Grey sat up, after exiting the ring, and looked up at Artura. Slightly more refreshed, though still quite tired, she yawned. Pulling the hood off of her head, Grey frowned, staring at the Guild leader. She spoke, her voice barely carrying loudly enough to be heard across the field.
"I could contribute nothing more, without endangering myself. He abandoned the fight. That is a great insult, to my honor."
Maintaining eye contact for a moment, Grey decided not to speak any more. Casting her gaze downwards, she began to walk. She raised a hand to her neck, massaging the knots out of it. Annoyed and frankly angered, Grey was legitimately confused, and the frustration was evident through her calm. Well aware of her limits, and of the dangers of overextending herself, she accepted the win by default, but did not revel in it. Almost gliding along the ground, her legs completely covered by her robe, she retreated from the field.
Once inside, Grey walked to her own quarters, where her cot was waiting. Too mad to sleep, she sat on her cot, crossing her legs, and staring at the blank wall. Her door was little more than a curtain, and it waved slightly in the air currents drifting through the room. She grabbed her Oud, and held it in her lap, deciding to practice for a little while. As far as she knew, everyone had gone to watch the fight; this would be a perfect time to rehearse a few songs. She closed her eyes, and quietly played, almost meditative in her practice.