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gaia_crown 𝕺𝕺𝕮:

Jousting will not result in major injuries! Only bruised egos, and maybe bruised backsides. All falls are cushioned by thick sawdust, and the lances are blunted. You may be a little sore, but no lingering damage will be done.

Spectators are welcome to join in and react to the events! Non-riders or those who have finished their run can join Joy in the canopied balcony seats, or anyone can spectate from the ground alongside the lists.


Please include the following at the top of your post:
[b]Character name:[/b]
[b]Competing for:[/b] (name of your Fair One, if you have one)
[b]Points earned:[/b][/ul]

gaia_crown 𝖘𝖔𝖑𝖔 𝖏𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌

Roll 1d10 to determine your outcome! Remember to add or subtract any modifiers you may have received from your previous Accolade roll.

Quote:

1: Humiliatingly, due to either your own clumsiness or your steed’s unruliness, you miss your mark entirely, whereas the target’s lance catches you so squarely in the shield that you are unhorsed, and fall to the ground.
2: Due to your own clumsiness or your steed’s unruliness, you miss your mark entirely, and the target’s lance catches you in the shield, shattering down to the hilt. You do not quite fall from your Accolade, but once it reaches the end of the list, it bucks you off in disgust, unless you rolled a 10 previously.
3-4: You only clip the dummy, and catch a glancing blow from the dummy’s lance. You are bucked off in quiet disapproval at the end of the list, unless you rolled a ten previously.
5: You squarely land a blow on the dummy! You are allowed to dismount on your own at the end of the lists, but your Accolade is impatient to get you off its back. Receive 1 point!
6-7: You land a particularly powerful blow to the dummy, and your Accolade’s horn shatters to the brow, which is painless but very impressive. You are allowed to dismount on your own, after your Accolade does a bit of a prance. Receive 2 points!
8-9: Your blow lands powerfully on the dummy’s shield, pushing it halfway over, and your lance shatters to the Accolade’s brow, which is painless but very impressive. You are allowed to dismount on your own, after your Accolade does a bit of a prance. Receive 3 points!
10: Your blow lands so powerfully true on the target’s shield that you bear it straight down to the ground, leaving it to eat your dust. You are allowed to dismount on your own after your Accolade does a victory lap, which makes you look extremely cool. Receive 4 points!

gaia_crown 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖏𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌

Each participant should roll 1d10 and any modifier earned previously, if applicable.

Outcome is determined by the difference in the rolls. For example, if one competitor rolls a 3 and one rolls a 10, the difference is 7 in the chart below.


Quote:

1-3: The loser keeps their seat, but loses their shield. The victor receives 1 point. The loser is bucked from their Accolade in disgust unless they rolled a ten previously; the victor is allowed to dismount, provided they do it quickly.
4-5: The loser keeps their seat but loses their shield, and the victor’s Accolade’s horn cracks, which is painless and a bit of a badge of honor to the pony. The victor receives 2 points. The loser is bucked gently from their seat unless they rolled a ten previously; the victor is allowed to dismount on their own.
6-7: The winner’s lance shatters completely on their opponent’s shield, making it difficult for the loser to stay seated. This is painless for the Accolade and looks very impressive. The victor receives 3 points. The loser is bucked off in disgust, and the winner is treated to a little victory prance before being allowed to dismount on their own.
8+: The loser is unseated from his Accolade by the blow of the victor’s lance. The loser’s Accolade will slink back into the woods in a huff unless its rider rolled a ten previously. The victor’s Accolade will do a victory lap, to celebrate its rider receiving 4 points.

In the event of a tie, players can take a second run or decide that they both missed, at their discretion.

Character name: Grieve of The Collapse
Competing for: Kua'kua
Points earned: 1

Staring at the horn that had so gently slipping through her hands, Grieve hissed with a grin, "By Cosmos' Coin Purse, it actually ********' works." Letting her hands drop, she pulled a bracelet out of her inventory. Pale and shiny, each bead a tooth taken from an unfortunate Lieutenant Something-or-otherite and carefully carved while watching the drag queen battle hour, the bracelet was threaded through a hole in the creature's natural armor.

"There, now help me kick a loser while he's down."

Joy looked pretty ******** in her element, bossing people around and telling them where their assholes lie and which hand to wipe with. It would be far from the first tournament Grieve had watched, but jousting…well.

That was usually for rich ********, anyway. But these beasts of the Garde made it look more of the land, rather than a show of wealth. Her own gave her a big eyed star, its step particularly showy. Huh. Guess they really did love this s**t. Made her wonder why she hadn’t heard of more of these types of events on the Garde back in Nigh Nigh’s day.

Probably ‘cause he was a sad, boring ******** and liked being a sad boring ******** accolade knelt politely and bore up under her weight with ease. Pretty ********' proper little pony, all said. Joy had some good ones it seemed. Generally, when it came to mounts, she felt the bigger the better. It's fine if your mount's a little stupid if it's a big ******** off dinosaur. But maybe there was something to be said for being smart with a good personality?

Well, Grieve wouldn't know.

At her end, she sat staring down the baby-faced jizzling of a page and then, instead of gripping the natural reins, crossed her arms. Holding on with only her thighs, she let the beast go about its business, opting to look more cool rather than exerting any need for control.

For one glorious shining moment it appeared as though Maus would be delivered from the humiliating spectacle of being unseated entirely. Granted, he had lost, but a loss was bearable - was, even, for Maus, something of a familiar comfort - but it was better than ending up with his a** in the dirt. He'd seen A Knight's Tale. He knew how this could go. Losing his shield to an opponent that wasn't even trying to hang on for dear life was a sting, but it wasn't the worst one.

But no sooner had he gotten done silently congratulating himself and giving a chagrined "what can you do" smile of Good Sportsmanship to the onlookers - no sooner had he bent down to tell his Accolade that he'd consider giving it another carrot - than it told him exactly what it felt about his performance, and with a snort and a buck that exhibited its contempt, deposited him unceremoniously onto his back.

He lay for a moment considering the strangeness of having been bucked off a magical plant-horse in competition with a neon yellow alien in a medieval pocket dimension while nominally competing for the imaginary favor of another, different alien, all facilitated by his faking a cough over the phone that morning to the manager of a very banal thrift store, and he absently patted his pockets for the kind of cigarette necessary to accompany this moment of surreal introspection before he remembered he was in uniform, and also that he was once again in the middle of trying to quit. Ah, well.

He lifted his hand in a thumbs up gesture from where he lay to indicate that he was in fact alive and well (in response to a cheerful call from Joy asking if he was a corpse) before rolling over, somewhat creakily, to find his way back to his feet, watching the Accolade end their short-lived friendship by frisking off through the gatehouse and back towards the trees.

"I'd say I'm too old for this," he called out to Grieve, "except I guess you've got about a thousand years on me, so what's my excuse?"

Character name: Sailor Bacchus
Competing for: Hildegard (He'll accept points in her honor)
Points earned: 0

It had been a few centuries since Bacchus had attempted to ride any sort of animal, and the one he'd paired up with already seemed a bit disgruntled at the prospect of competing with someone as lax as he was about something they clearly took seriously. At least, that's what he suspected lay behind its distance. He imagined the bittersweet sensation of soft fur beneath his hands, wings holding him securely in his saddle. A friend in the place of a reluctant ally.

Of all the reasons he had to complain, this was pretty low on the list. It might not be a long-missed companion but a living animal beneath him was more than he'd anticipated in the long years of silence. Pain radiated through his arm as he attempted to direct the thing's horn toward the shield. ******** thing. You’d think after all this time it would be less of a burden but it seemed like it got worse by the year.

Lack of practice took its toll on his performance and as the lance made contact with his shield he immediately felt his steed's displeasure. A series of irritated snorts heralded its growing irritation and before he could attempt an apology, Bacchus found himself on the ground as the accolade stalked away, presumably glad to be rid of its inept rider. He would definitely have a bruise on his a** after this but at least he had the other events ahead of him.

Tempesti winced sympathetically as Bacchus landed on the ground, trotting over to help her friend up before mounting her own accolade. Hildegard let out a screech of disapproval at his departing steed before flapping onto the deep space senshi’s shoulder. With his fair one ready to go to the stands he strode with affected confidence toward the other spectators, ignoring the dirt that he knew almost certainly adorned the seat of his trousers. Dropping down under the canopy near Joyeuse Garde, he offered her ghost a cheeky wink and wished he could think of a better way to get a reaction from the stodgy looking fellow. You’d think that someone who was dead would be less focused on following whatever rules had bound them during life but here he stood with no apparent interest in the mischief that Bacchus was certain should accompany being incorporeal. The man had infinite opportunity for practical jokes and instead he was standing like a sentry behind his successor. How would someone prank a ghost? He should find time to ask a knight at some point. That seemed like it would be good information to have in his back pocket. The deep space senshi gave the Garde’s current mistress a quick wave as he settled in to watch the rest of the competitors. If they were lucky they’d do better than he did, though he wouldn’t be opposed to watching a few more spills. Didn’t seem likely that anyone would get seriously ******** up, so that definitely had the potential to be very entertaining.




Character name: Sailor Tempesti
Competing for: Herself (With moral support from Hildegard)
Points earned: 2

Sailor Tempesti’s accolade seemed to have a measure of sympathy for the plight of the senshi of revelry, but its interest was on the pursuit of their own victory. From her seat on its back, Tempesti gave it a few gentle pets on the neck before steadying herself.

“Alright, you ready?”

The creature nickered before charging forward. Doing her inexperienced best to guide her mount toward the target, she let out a delighted cheer when its horn connected solidly with the dummy’s shield. She initially felt a burst of concern when the horn shattered but the accolade seemed entirely unconcerned, focused instead on the pleasure of their success as it pranced about.

“Great job!” An exhilarated laugh accompanied her declaration, she couldn’t call herself the most skilled jouster on the field, but the senshi was happy that she and her new friend had managed to put in a good performance.

Character name: Emain Ablach
Competing for: Amoris
Points earned: 0

Character name: Abzu of Neptune
Competing for: Stromboli of Uranus
Points earned: 4!

Did Abzu know s**t about riding horses? Not really, no.

Did he know s**t about jousting? Honestly, probably even less than riding horses. At least he had arguably done the first before, even out of his own control. Jousting was out of his wheelhouse in almost its entirety.

And yet, apparently it wasn't.

Abzu prepared himself to charge the target, squaring his shoulders up. "For Stromboli!" declared Abzu, earning a roll of the eyes from his parent as he leaned fully into the game. Perhaps it worked, though, considering his joust landed so decisively that the shield practically shattered. Abzu wasn't sure if it was the horse, the joust, or the declaration of love for his fair one--Stromboli, clearly the fairest of them all--but it had worked, and Abzu was happy to strut away along on the accolade as it took its well-deserved victory lap.

Could Abzu do the rest of this? Maybe. But he did manage this one!

----

Character name: Eridu of Cybele
Competing for: themself
Points earned: 2+1 = 3!

"How in the ******** has Abzu pulled that off? Since when did their son know anything about ******** jousting? What had Abzu neglected to tell them?

... He bodily shuddered even when seated on top of the horse ... accolade ... whatever when he considered that jousting had several different meanings. Now they hated their brain and wanted this over with as soon as possible. Perhaps they reflected in how mediocre Eridu did even in comparison to how well they seemed to get along with their accolade. Or, at least, thought they did. The performance was decent enough. It was probably further saved by how strong and willing the accolade had been in the first place, even if Eridu had done pretty minimally themself.

They didn't lose, though. A win was a win.

Kinda.

Eridu couldn't quite pull off an elder sibling brag this time, considering they were not the one with an accolade that literally had strut to show off their stuff.

Character name: Ibirapitá of Shade
Competing for: himself
Points earned: 3!

Alright. He could do this.

Maybe.

Ibirapitá attempted to seat himself on the accolade and stare down what he needed to slay. Or ... At least knock over. He understood from competitions similar to this on his homeworld that death was not the aim. This was something if a play fight, and he could do that.

Or at least his close ones had been able to.

Perhaps that had been the key. Ibirapitá tapped into what he thought they would have done as he charged on the accolade and, to his mild surprise, succeeded.

He'd take it.