there was a burning - something fierce, vicious, hungry. unrelenting. beauregard did not have anybody to tell him it was age or lack thereof, the fire in his belly tumultuous and aimless. he needed to prove, to refine his body until he was a creature of onyx and stone, carved intentionally into the mountain he needed to be.

so, at the fighting place, he called.

a snarl to rip through the underworld. the overworld. the inbetween. jaws hanging agape and ready, tail lashing, hackles raised - the hellion was a beast of the night in every sense, moonlight cascading down from the sliver of silver in the sky to a ghostly veil upon his back, his arena lit in otherworldly glow. he did not care who answered, only that somebody did.

@Svetlana

_{table by hush}

It was a quiet restlessness that had pulled Svetlana to the pits- one that she's sure her mother would have disapproved of, if she had known. One that she would have claimed was only fitting for someone like her brothers.

Svetlana had never listened to her, anyways.

The call is what gets her attention, really gets it, and she's heading towards the source before she can even think twice about it. It isn't a long travel, since she's already here, and she comes to a stop just in front of the source.

He isn't much older than her- if he is at all- and, from the looks of things, he isn't much taller, either. Good. If there's anything Svetlana would rather not do, it's bite off more than she can chew.

"I'll let you go first." It's mostly teasing, despite the fact she doesn't really know him, and probably too-confident given she isn't the most knowledgeable in fighting.

Yet.

@Beauregard

ART BY RABBIT, CODE BY LARS, MODIFIED BY GUNNER

an opponent. mismatched gaze followed the curves of her musculature and a twitch hinted at the corner of his dark muzzle. almost his size, and about the same age. earthen tones cloaked her in dapples and stripes, and she seemed much more fit than him at blending in with the surroundings, as though the edge of her blurred into the scenery. he blinked, and she came into focus.

"i'll let you go first." the breath had scarcely left her lips before he lunged.

permission given, beauregard threw himself toward her, claws outstretched. his ultimate goal was to topple her, the supple might of his muscled body singing as it was finally put to purpose - a snake allowed to strike. a hound released from the gate. uncomplicated. free. fierce.

beauregard vs @Svetlana
_{for spar}
1 / 3

Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 7 + 11 + 17 + 20 + 18

Dodges:

Rolling 2d20: 4 + 8

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 17 + 5 + 13 + 8 + 6 + 1

_{table by hush}

Svetlana only has a second to prepare. The second the invitation leaves her jaws, the other yearling is lunging, almost faster than her brain can comprehend it.

Instincts kick in first, and she moves to back away, just out of reach; she doesn't get far before the lion topples into her with his full weight, and for a second she's left breathless, winded, and barely standing on her own paws.

Beyond the likely bruising, her pride is just as wounded at being caught so off guard, and with the yearling closer she attempts to snake her head up and latch onto his left cheek.

Already, she's not sure this is a fight she'll win, but damn if she won't try her best.

[align=center]{Svetlana} vs @Beauregard
for spaar
{1} of 3

{Hits:}

Rolling 4d20: 10 + 15 + 6 + 4

{Dodges:}

Rolling 2d20: 5 + 7

{Luck:}

Rolling 5d20: 14 + 7 + 10 + 4 + 15

[align=center]

they collided, and at once, time slowed. infinitesimal fractions of a second shattered into glass fragments all around, reflective, shining. breathless, snarling, he took her bite to his face with all his forward momentum, hoping to continue to rip forwards and tear away from her biting grasp-

and, at the same time, his opposite forepaw rose - aimed to slam into her flank with claws unsheathed, hopeful and violent. he was a wraith inhabiting this body, and with every movement he felt nerve endings alight, synaptic fire burning through his adolescent brain.

beauregard vs @Svetlana
_{for spar}
2 / 3

Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 17 + 15 + 6 + 13 + 8

Dodges:

Rolling 2d20: 9 + 6

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 4 + 7 + 18 + 1 + 14 + 5

_{table by hush}

Svetlana's teeth connect with the flesh on the other yearling's cheek, and for a second she debates apologizing. If it hurts, however, he doesn't show any sign of it- and, just as fast, any sympathy she may have felt is replaced with contempt that this lion may be one of those super-macho sorts.

His face is ripped away from her grasp, forcefully, and she swears she can still feel the fur that comes with it in her mouth. She doesn't have much time to complain- a wrinkle of her nose is enough before he's reaching for her flank with claws unsheathed, sending white-hot pain across her side.

An exhale escapes her- a sharp, audible thing- before she's attempting to slam her paw down on the other lion's forepaw. Is it petty? Yes. Does Svetlana give a fuck? Not really!

{Svetlana} vs @Beauregard
for spar
{2} of 3

{Hits:}

Rolling 4d20: 14 + 2 + 16 + 19

{Dodges:}

Rolling 2d20: 12 + 10

{Luck:}

Rolling 5d20: 14 + 5 + 3 + 15 + 9

white heat shot through his face as he tore away, fiery red blooming where she had broken skin. he had managed to rotate and make contact with her shoulder - how inventive his opponent was, her own claws coming down upon his. shadowed features twisted into a snarl, and he yanked his paw away, irrespective of the damage her talons would do.

brawls like this were usually short - there was a sense of finality to this as he flashed her a shit-eating smile, darkness in his eyes - and lifted his other paw, aiming to open-clawed smack her in the face, to punctuate the end of their spar.

beauregard vs @Svetlana
_{for spar}
3 / 3

Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 2 + 14 + 18 + 4 + 12

Dodges:

Rolling 2d20: 8 + 18

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 7 + 11 + 8 + 18 + 14 + 10

_{table by hush}

Just as quickly as the spar had started, it seemed like it was over. The other lion ripped his paw away from her, and for a second she almost celebrates her victory, as small as it is.

Almost. Because before she really can think to do anything, a paw slams into her face- not too hard, but enough to leave her stunned, even if briefly. Against the mountain of fur in her face, Svetlana does the first thing that comes to mind-

and aims to bite his paw. Not hard, and she's already backing away regardless, a shit-eating grin to rival the other yearling's on her own face.

("That was fun.") And she finds that it isn't wrong, even if she's pretty sure she'll have bruises to last for the next week. Which, to be fair, the other yearling probably also will.

Maybe. Hopefully?

Svetlana vs @Beauregard
for spar
3 of 3

Hits:

Rolling 4d20: 9 + 12 + 13 + 8

Dodges:

Rolling 2d20: 20 + 18

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 14 + 4 + 8 + 10 + 18

ART BY RABBIT, CODE BY LARS, MODIFIED BY GUNNER

@Svetlana VS. @Beauregard FOR SPAR
— RESULTS —

Svetlana Hits: 1 + 3 + 2 +3 luck =9
Svetlana Dodges: 0 + 1 + 2 = 3

Beauregard Hits: 4 + 3 + 3 + 3 luck = 13
Beauregard Dodges: 0 + 0 + 1 = 1

Svetlana Successful Hits: 8
Beauregard Successful Hits: 10

@Beauregard HAS WON THE CHALLENGE FOR [WHAT]!

Please allow the challengers to respond to the fight results first. As per the site rules, if 3 days go by without a post from the challenger(s), they can be skipped. Whichever comes first! Any posts made before this will be removed, unless you are posting to another fight.

his open paw made contact with her face - only a sliver away from fangs that had aimed to close around his claws, but just barely missed, snapping closed on thin air. a sharp inhale was drawn into his chest, a beat inbetween them.

"that was fun."

he had won. his thick mane of shadows caught the breeze as he exhaled, mismatched eyes fixed upon @Svetlana, his expression once more an eerie calm - the mask once more descended upon him. he tilted his crown just a little, considering. "it does not have to be the only time," he suggested, low tones with no bite to them nothing less than inviting. "my name is beauregard."

but the pit was not for conversation. the night had drawn them in with its promise of battle, and the itch had been scratched. sated, the shadow creature offered his companion a low rumble of satisfaction, glancing aside. "find me again." he then looked back, once, committing her to memory - offering a small flash of white fang against his dark features in silent farewell - before withdrawing into the darkness.

exit.

_{table by hush}