everybody wants to be my enemy //

she can practically feel his frustration as she continues to chase after his underbelly, his steps constantly mirroring her own so they're in a dance. when his jaws slam shut over her nape, and her claws flash out to tear against his flank, there's a sense of satisfaction that lasts only a moment. because the burly beast shakes his head like a dog with a bone and it takes much of her willpower not to sag like a ragdoll at the pain. it tears muscle and ligaments under the skin, though outwardly the damage does not look so severe. the wounds open further and pump blood steadily down her neck, however. when he releases it from the awkward pull of his neck, she stumbles backwards with a raspy gasp. she gives up on chasing him around to keep at his underbelly, instead remaining head-on. it's then that his clawed paw slashes out at her face - the left side and this she wants to stop. frantically, and a little delayed due to the thumping pain in her neck, she swings her head to her left, jaws open and eye narrowed into a small slit, in an attempt to try to slam her jaws around his right wrist. this will put his claws against the side of her face, allowing them to sink in and tear through her cheek in ragged, unpleasant lines - but she's willing to sacrifice that to keep her eye - and to get control of that weapon. her ears nestle against her skull as she attempts to grab the limb and bite down with as much force as she can muster.

Saga v @Eulalia
for death
round 5/7
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 15 + 20 + 17 + 2 + 10 + 1

Dodges:

Rolling 6d20: 3 + 19 + 9 + 17 + 7 + 18

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 6 + 1 + 13 + 10 + 2

table by ferus & lineart by eerien00dle

They hit the ground, bursting apart in a flurry of limbs and blood and chaos. Alaric had every intention of scrambling back his paws, fighting to the bitter end, but here is where fate stepped in. Fate in the form of a large rock on the ground — a rock that the pale lion did not see through the haze of adrenaline. Before he could form a coherent thought the King had his claws on his neck; there was nothing left for him to do. “For now,” he managed to grit out, bold and foolish words perhaps but spoken all the same. Still there was deference in his gaze and he did not fight the claws — Alaric had lost this fight. When @Roan was gone he heaved himself up, the world tilting harshly on its axis as a low groan escaped his lips. The skin over his temple was split and a solid goose egg already formed — the unfortunate touch of fate that had contributed to his surrender. For a long moment he sat, shoulders slumped, bleeding heavily, trying to regain his senses. Dimly he is aware of another fight, and when he finally looks up his blood runs cold. Well shit. A quick sweep of those gathered revealed a few familiar faces, and he drug his sorry ass over towards where @Esmerée was sidled up to some stranger. His lip curled, a glimpse of possessiveness lurking in his bloodied features, but he said nothing and simply sat hard beside her. “Next time,” he promised, with a growl rumbling in his chest.

image by moogle, code by koi

The hot rush of blood rewarded the jarl with his last vicious shake, powerful jaws tearing tender flesh. To his satisfaction the woman faces him head on more fully, her attentions no longer focused at approaching him from the side. Eulalia's ugly sneer turns into a crazed smile, years and years of hunting down Sigruns permanently reflected in his eyes.

Like Eulalia, his opponent only has one good eye - that being her left eye. His claws eagerly seek to render the tender orb. Frenzied, she twists her head to the left towards the oncoming claws with parted jaws. The jarl realized too late the danger that his paw was in, and as his claws ripped through the flesh of her cheek, her jaws chased his right paw. As the limb fell back towards the earth, her jaws clamped tightly over his right forearm, her canines burying into flesh and muscle and preventing him from putting his leg down.

With a thunderous snarl of pain, Eulalia dove forward with his head instantly, jaws agape as he attempted to clamp down across the bridge of her muzzle, anything to get her to release his leg - perhaps to render that remaining good eye of hers obstructed.


Eulalia vs. @Saga
for death
Round 5 / 7
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 9 + 4 + 2 + 18 + 1 + 12 + 19 + 14

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 7 + 3 + 18

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 16 + 17 + 12 + 5 + 10

""

This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of gore

the pain doesn't register, at first, when his claws slice through her cheek - she's diving low to chase his wrist and slamming her jaws around it to squeeze with all the force she can muster. but as she tries to squeeze, the pain in her cheek registers: the skin flaps against her opponent's own flesh and her nerve endings scream. instinctively she releases any grip she's had, rearing back, just as eulalia dives low with a roaring growl. as she's rising from her crouched lunge, he's lunging down, and his jaws slice across the top of her skull, continuing down her face, tearing across the bridge of her snout before slicing through her tender nose. rage and pain fight one another for control and she looses her own manic cry, ears laying back and eye slit to a tiny pinprick. her unsheathed claws at the ready she rears up in a seated position, almost as if she intends to hug him, instead aiming to try to score both forepaws down his face, claws attempting to shred his own scalp and face and, just as he hoped, perhaps his remaining good eye ( but both of them are desperate to keep it ). her tail lashes along the ground to help her keep her balance, her weight resting on her haunches where they meet the ground. she keeps her head lowered as much as she can, hunching forward in an attempt to keep her own belly as protected as she can manage. she's counting on the distance and the flurry of attacks aimed at trying to wound his face to keep him from lunging down before she can counter.

Saga v @Eulalia
for death
round 6/7
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 14 + 1 + 20 + 7 + 5 + 8

Dodges:

Rolling 6d20: 20 + 4 + 10 + 8 + 18 + 14

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 10 + 9 + 8 + 3 + 17

table by ferus & lineart by eerien00dle

The claws ripping through her face seemed deterrent enough; her grip on his forearm was released more quickly than the jarl expected. His jaws did not make the claim that he so desperately wanted; imagine the damage he could do to her face with a nice strong hold.

Instead, his canines dragged long engravings from the length of her crown right down to her tender nose. Pulling his head back in, the jarl's rose-pink eye glitters savagely at her as she shrieks in pain, the sound unintentionally sending the hair along his spine standing. Her ears were flattened so far into her skull he could barely determine their shape any longer.

Suddenly both of her forelimbs rise in the air, claws flashing towards his face. Jaw parted to mar his throat and ears flattened into his mane, Eulalia does the only thing he can, which is to narrow his right eye until it is almost closed - he must protect his vision at all costs. His head shrinks back into his neck, shoulders thrust forward instinctively. Her claws snag his scalp where his mane begins, ripping with lightning speed right down the length of his face on both sides. Hot blood trickles down the bridge of his nose, his cheeks torn to ribbons.

Eulalia lifted his left forearm, powerful muscles rippling, and swung at her right side as hard as he could, aiming for her shoulder to try to knock her off balance and score along her right forearm. Anything to knock her off balance and dissuade the flurry of attacks at his face. His remaining three legs were splayed for balance, claws digging into the earth for traction.


Eulalia vs. @Saga
for death
Round 6 / 7
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 16 + 17 + 11 + 8 + 20 + 13 + 15 + 10

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 6 + 20 + 17

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 12 + 14 + 19 + 16 + 9

""

he shrinks back to protect himself as she unleashes her slashing attack, her claws slicing through his skin to mimic the furrows he gouged in her own. satisfaction burns in her gut despite the weariness dragging at her as the fight goes on and on and on. her body is slick with blood, fur sticking and uncomfortable, and she wonders, distantly, who is going to come out on top.

vellen, for you. it's all been for you. she prays reverently, briefly, and in that moment eulalia swings.

his right paw comes in a wide arc, slamming into her right shoulder to shove her. the claws tear through her muscle, the impact enough to bruise her and shake the breath in her lungs. her lowering forepaws drop quicker, her left dropping to abruptly catch her in an awkward half-downed position. her hips rest on their left side on the ground, her upper body still twisted to face him with her weight on her foreleg. before he can take advantage, she reacts. while his right paw is, hopefully, still dropping from its attack she drops to her stomach and pushes herself forward with her haunches. her ears remain flattened to her skull, her tail turning to press against her haunches now that it's perhaps close enough to snatch. her open jaws and right forepaw, claws extended, aim to try to latch onto his left wrist. she's hoping to do her best to crush it with her jaws and slice the claws of her right forepaw down his upper leg simultaneously, as she does so.

Saga v @Eulalia
for death
round 7/7
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 3 + 17 + 7 + 11 + 8 + 15

Dodges:

Rolling 6d20: 1 + 16 + 19 + 2 + 11 + 15

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 3 + 14 + 2 + 19 + 12

table by ferus & lineart by eerien00dle

She can see the grey-and-white blur the moment she descends on the field. How can she not? Of course, the moment her husband had arrived, Sunníva's attention had been locked upon him, and she'd hunkered down further amongst the boulders, being a good little pet. She nearly, nearly launches herself from cover when she sees the Sigrún bitch come barreling into view, her claws digging into rubble and her tail whipping behind her, but she remembers herself before she breaks cover, and settles back down with a scowl. There are few things that Sunníva has faith in, but @Eulalia is one of them -- perhaps the only thing. He will win because he must, and Sigrún blood will stain the earth today. She's certain of it. And yet, her heart still thrums rapidly, and she can taste bile rising in her throat. It's easy to be the one in the middle of the heat of a moment, but it is not half so simple to be stuck on the sidelines watching from afar as her husband potentially meets his demise. If he falls, all will be lost for Sunníva Rike, and she knows it.

sunníva is hidden

you said you wanted revolution

table by sentinel / art

The jarl knew no god other than himself. Lawless, irreverent, full of bloodwrath, he'd known no purpose beyond himself.

Blood sprayed the air, misting the creamy mane about his pale face. Spots before his eyes, the blood loss was already affecting him in a way that he had not felt for many years. For a brief moment all was quiet in his mind, and he saw her.

Mein kleines Seehund.

The blood roaring in his ears, the jarl's jaw parted with doglike fever, hardly feeling his own forepaw slam into his opponent's right shoulder. Blinking, he found himself present again, rosy eye locking on her frame as she was jarred sideways. In a fluid motion, the chimera lioness twisted about, diving low towards his left foreleg. All of her weapons came crashing down on his left wrist at once, jaws clamping around his wrist as her claws stretched up to slice down his left forearm.

The damage to the tendons in his left wrist would likely cause lifelong damage, as the Sigrun's powerful jaws destroyed his flesh and bit into his muscle. Blood trickled down his foreleg from her claws.

Eulalia's growl thundered above her, and he threw caution to the wind to try to take advantage of her low position to the ground. Throwing the entirety of his weight down towards her left shoulder and side, he reached out with his right forelimb in an attempt to shove her into the earth, his parted jaws diving down to seek purchase on the crest of her neck just behind her ears. Everything hinged on his weight being able to pin her to the ground to finish this once and for all.


Eulalia vs. @Saga
for death
Round 7 / 7
Hits:

Rolling 8d20: 13 + 8 + 5 + 14 + 6 + 3 + 7 + 18

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 6 + 1 + 4

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 7 + 11 + 6 + 18 + 16

It always brings a sense of interest, these challenges. She doesn't know the voice that calls, but morbid curiosity brings her out, beckoning @Ursula to follow. How far they've come from the feral yearlings who had first set foot in this land, who had cowered beneath the chaos of the first pride challenge they'd seen and earned the ire of a king they'd barely known at the time. Time, experience, and age has change them, morphing into something more decidedly adult, and more than that -- colder, more callous. Bloodshed and violence doesn't frighten her anymore; she's come to accept that this is the way of life for these lions, and she must adapt or fail. They arrive, as ever, to absolute chaos. She manages to see the tail end of the brawlers fighting for the Hollows, but frankly, she doesn't know either of them, and she doesn't particularly care. Bee doesn't even know which one is the original king to begin with. It is Saga who her eyes snap to, engaged in the most savage fight she has ever witnessed. She recognizes the male, vaguely, as the one who had fought Úlla at the Brook, but she doesn't know him. She knows of him, she supposes, but other than being an enemy of the Sigrún, she knows nothing. Bee can suspect that someone will die here today, and where that once would have aroused a thrum of anxiety, she finds that she is... numb to it. Her lips pursed, she follows after Ursula as they slip quietly through the crowd together, each taking in their own observations, gathering their own information. For once, they are not the enemy that everyone has their eyes on, and she is grateful for that -- though she is still careful to make certain they avoid the Scillan horde of lions. Seeing Saga like that... well, she doesn't want to draw any attention to herself. Not that she ever has, anyway; the Bezras have always just been victims of circumstance, after all.

image by koafox, code by koi

She continued tracking after the prints, able to see that they led to a crowd in the distance where two pairs of lions fought. Her adrenaline raced as she trotted forward, knowing that where there was aggression, there would be bloodshed. She lurked on the outskirts of the crowd, noting how one fight seemed far more aggravated than the other with blood surging from both opponents and attacks that did not suggest any restraint. Those two wanted to kill each other, while the other seemed more a battle of testosterone.

Elixir let out a little cackle and a sigh, coming to a seat to finish watching the spectacle. One male reigned over the other, and the deadly opponents seemed to grow tired. Exhaustion would turn them sloppy. She knew how these things went.

---

+10 - attend a spar or challenge to assess the wounds (oh pride)
+10 - attend a spar or challenge to assess the wounds (saga dm)
+10 - track someone through a neutral territory

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