OOC: Love your power-playing, Kharmendarhra. Love how you just say how you manage to hurt my cub without my being able to react. -- The Bloobath

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Date Posted: 12:48:15 08/13/02 Tue
Author: Lizai, mun of Qyvir
Author Host/IP: 152.163.206.204
Subject: OOC: Love your power-playing, Kharmendarhra. Love how you just say how you manage to hurt my cub without my being able to react.
In reply to: Kharmendarhra 's message, "::|:: goddess of the night ::|::" on 15:55:21 08/08/02 Thu

I hope you recognized the above as sarcasm, because I *hate* it when people powerplay. Yes, she's a cub/foal; no, she isn't just constantly beat up because of that. Yes, she's young; no, she's not stupid. Yes, she is clever and will find a way to wriggle out from the grasp of death because I value her as a rpg character. And now you have simply forced me into doing things that may not have been on my agenda. Oh, and one more thing: Love how you avoided all possible injury from a leaping lioness-cub, even if it would be very little because she's still a cub and very small and I do not deny that. [Yet more sarcasm.] *mutters angrily*

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[> ~*~Dizzy, Weak, yet Defiant~*~ -- Qyvir, 13:06:53 08/13/02 Tue (152.163.206.204)

~*~As she had been flung to the ground, Qyvir had somehow been rolled aside, away from the line of fire; but she was knocked unconscious, and flung out of her cub form. Now a foal again, blood glistens on her mahogany pelt where she had been grabbed by the winged cat in her cub form, for the harm carries over into both forms.

So, back to the present: The prone form of the filla lies still on the ground, sides just barely rising and falling to mark the fact that she's alive. As her father wins the battle, at last she stirs, rolling over with a weak moan. With the minimal strength of a foal born a mere instant ago, she struggles to stand. Succeeding at last, she turns, glaring at Kharmendarhra for all her ragged condition. All right, so you've succeeded in almost killing someone maybe a quarter of your size. Good job. Shall we applaud? Because she's still enraged, Qyvir has only enough energy to retain her future voice as a full-grown felequine/horse. But know that I will never apologize to you, no matter what. Maybe you really will kill me for it next time. I don't care. I'll never apologize. Stumbling away, towards Malakeh, her normal voice returns as weakly she calls out: Mama?~*~

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