Because I'm hyped up out of control

Define your meaning of war To me it's what we do when we're bored I feel the heat comin' off of the blacktop And it makes me want it more Because I'm hyped up out of control If it's a fight, I'm ready to go I wouldn't put my money on the other guy If you know what I know that I know

[[Super vague on actual pride status 'cause of the ongoing WB challenge, but this would be set almost immediately after regardless of the results there. We'll say the next morning to give some wiggle room for those who want to attend?]]

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Two could play this game.

The idea had been festering in the back of his mind for some time now, but recent events had propelled it to the very front. Andal had come for Wolfbron again. It was high time to return the favor, wasn't it?

He did not go to the pit. Waterlogged and rain soaked as it was. Instead, he made his way out to the badlands, the barren stretch that separated the two prides. The weather here had been milder than elsewhere, and he'd rather not venture too far into the desert and deal with the dust storms that plagued the area.

At the midpoint between Oasis and Bluffs he paused, planted his feet firm on the packed, dry, earth, and roared his summons. Afterward, he'd settle into a ready and eager stance, fully prepared for his would-be opponent to attack rather than attempt to talk first, as he'd done before.

There was a desire to win and to have his time as a ruler, yes, but deeper than that was the drive to chip away at everything dear to the current oasis leadership. They'd attacked his home, and they'd embarrassed him. Another sort of beast might wish death on their enemy. Ryker sought to destroy his in other ways.

Ryker vs. @Seneca (@koi)
Andal Oasis
Round 0 / 5

If it's a fight, I'm ready to go

code by corvus || free wallpaper

ooc vague on passage thread - uncertain of rank/status

she’s in no position to be nosin about with pride business — heck, thus far nuala has managed to dodge bullets left and right. with the bizarre tides and twists in weather making it dangerous to even go about a morning stroll, it makes sense why no one would pick a bone with each other.

‘cept in reality the cinnamon lioness has been oblivious to the constant bone-picking, hair-pulling, blood-spitting playground brawls that were happening all around. this one is the first she’s had the pleasure of… hearing about — simply because she’d gotten stuck prior in an awful windstorm with others not too long ago and hasn’t quite left the area yet.

the summons thus has her skin crawl in a weird way — nuala shouldn’t get involved, she doesn’t know what the heck is happening and why… but deities above. she can’t help stickin’ her nose where it don’t belong after all.

it’s a little awkward arriving on scene before anyone else — she sees the challenging guy standing prepped and ready for his opponent and… then there is scrappy lil old nuala staring him down. she settles for a “sup” nod and finds a seat next to a shrub that’s won against the winds for now.

coding by sentinel / artwork by sleepykyju

elke couldn't say she wasn't impressed by the display of ambition amongst the amaryllis lions. even amidst the dangers of the world collapsing they still found it in themselves to fight for a crown. if she was a sensible woman, she would've tucked herself within the rainforest. but even firnen had its share of misfortune and leadership changes. and it seemed the firnen challenge was the beginning of a domino affect.

she was careful to steer clear of the devastated areas and, with some luck, managed to made it to the badlands. from her memory, elke remembered that this land delved into another pride. elke couldn't imagine a pride nestled away within the dunes but apparently some lions liked the idea of consistent hot weather. she would hate it just as much as she hat the cold.

there wasn't much lions here, meaning elke was early after all. in the middle of the temporary battleground was the black and white challenger; not maned like the usual male lion, but elke wouldn't put it past him to have some tricks in his mind.

for now, elke would play the neutral party and simply observe.

This kid never quits, does he? @Ryker has quickly become a thorn in Seneca Miroslav's side, and more than he is angry, he is annoyed. After all, he would have to see the younger lion as a threat to view him as anything more than an inconvenience. A waste of his time. And so, as sunlight crests over the horizon and the summons goes up, the piebald king moves off into the depths of the desert, trekking ever closer to the Bluffs. Here on this dusty earth, Seneca finds himself most at home, familiar with the arid heat and sand between his toes. Ryker, he suspects, has selected this place for a similar reason — and the flat expanse means any sneak attacks are out of the option. Not that the Miroslav has ever been the sly sort, anyway. Similarly, he will not gain any advantage here by bulldozing his way in; there is little doubting that his enemy can see him coming from a mile away, and so Seneca does not expend unnecessary energy to approach with haste or strength. One would never know it from the cool, dominant demeanor he carries as he nears, but there is a large part of Seneca that is tired — tired of this fight, of this burden, of this ever-pressing mountain of responsibility. Tired, but not done yet. No, he is far from done. Much as the roach-maned lion is anticipating, he does not bother with saying anything as he approaches the small gathering. There is nothing that he can say worth wasting his breath on, and his comfortable trot onto the scene becomes a lope, gaining speed as he moves to engage Ryker. He approaches at an attempted slight angle to the man's left side, having every intention of keeping his opponent where he can see him. His skull is dipped in preparation for impact, ears slicking back into the sovereign's mane as he attempts to meet Ryker heavily, trying to plow the brunt of his left shoulder into the hollow point between the lion's left shoulder and chest. Surging jaws part, attempting to sink his teeth fully into the midpoint of the left side of Ryker's neck, hoping to obtain a grip in the muscle unprotected by mane. seneca vs ryker for andal oasis move one of five Hits: Rolling 8d20: 20 + 11 + 9 + 17 + 10 + 1 + 7 + 14 Dodges: Rolling 5d20: 10 + 17 + 13 + 18 + 5 Luck: Rolling 5d20: 11 + 6 + 4 + 17 + 16 @Corvus ★

molten eyes and a smile made for war

code // art // do not use without permission

Normally Iofiel isn't one to attend challenges, though perhaps he should because of his training as a medic, for it usually didn't involve him. This time it did. This was about the Oasis and therefore it made it about him. The Oasis was his home, it always would be. Iofiel was a desert dweller and he had no idea how to survive elsewhere. Besides, the Oasis needed someone used to desert living to help those whom didn't know what to watch out for. That was him. He would help those combat fatigue and dehydration.

The pale male stood off to the side in order to watch. There was no one in particular that he was rooting for. To him the leader didn't matter, only the land did. Iofiel had already made it known that his loyalty was to the Oasis itself. It was the only thing that had ever been close to a home for him. So he was here to basically see who he would be serving under. As well as offering his assistance to those whom needed it.

He would be there to help Seneca win or lose, but he would be returning to the Oasis regardless.

+10 Infiltrate a pride’s borders by pretending you’re a member
+5 Leave a trail of confusing tracks
+5 Witness drama between prides
The suffocating humidity of the swamp is getting to him. Perhaps telling himself the humidity is the only reason he's taking a break from the Mire would be untruthful. Dynamics are changing within the pride; not so unusual for a quickly growing group, but if he sees Vaghan's stupidly arrogant face one more time, he might just end up embarrassing himself. He has meandered off farther than he intended, unwittingly drawn back by the familiarity of the badlands, where he used to spend the majority of his time as a rogue. Ah, simple times.

He hears commotion in the distance: a sound he recognizes well by now. The sound of a fight breaking out. That explains why no one caught him trespassing. Hello, opportunity. Now that everyone is distracted, he chooses a quiet spot to roll in, hopefully removing any indication that he's a swamp lion. Erasing his presence, he runs into a couple of different directions, looking like he's feigning an attack on an invisible enemy to any unwitting bystander. Satisfied, he looks back at the hodgepodge trail of tracks left behind. There's no way he will be caught now. Right?

Finally, he lumbers his way towards the din, keeping his head low and his posture unassuming. Sure, any pride member worth their salt would know if there was a ridiculously handsome white lion in their pride, but if if anyone asks, he's a new recruit. He hangs back a bit, his eyes fixated on Stripes and Spots duking it out in the center of the gathering. Involuntarily, he wonders if the two have beef... perhaps it's worth sticking around to find out.

code + art

Because I'm hyped up out of control

Define your meaning of war To me it's what we do when we're bored I feel the heat comin' off of the blacktop And it makes me want it more Because I'm hyped up out of control If it's a fight, I'm ready to go I wouldn't put my money on the other guy If you know what I know that I know

Early on, the turn out seemed pitiful at best. And he really couldn't decide if he liked that or not. One one paw, he'd like as many lions as possible to witness his victory. On the other, well, he'd like as few as possible to witness his defeat. He did find it a touch annoying none of Wolfbron as he knew it were among the first wave of spectators.

That feeling would not be shelved as his opponent came into view in the distance, rather it would be embraced and used to motivate him. Just like the last time they'd clashed, it seemed the man preferred to keep Ryker on his left - which, of course, meant he'd do his best to stay on the man's right.

As his opponent sped up, Ryker braced and readied himself, angling his body to meet the man head-on. Until the very last moment. Once there was just under a foot between them, Ryker would side-step back and to his own left, attempting to place himself to Seneca's right, which meant he'd take the impact of the other male's shoulder to his own right shoulder rather than his left side. He'd let his rear continue to pivot toward his left, trying to put him at an angle to Seneca's right side as the other male's shoulder glanced off the front-edge of his own, the telltale thrill of a soon-to-be deep bruise radiating through him.

His movement would pull him away from Seneca's searching jaws unless the man altered his aim as they collided.

Ryker's fangs would attempt to latch deep into the meat of the patched man's right shoulder and grip, while his right forepaw would rise and try to hook claws into his opponent's right armpit before trying to rip down and toward himself.

Ryker vs. @Seneca (@koi)
Andal Oasis
Round 1 / 5
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 4 + 10 + 8 + 19 + 16 + 3 + 5

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 14 + 7 + 13

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 18 + 13 + 17 + 15 + 7

If it's a fight, I'm ready to go

code by corvus || free wallpaper

+10 Successfully stay hidden for the duration of a thread

+10 Remain undetected in a large thread (5+ characters)

The call was unsurprising considering how many she'd heard for the other prides recently. She figured this was something she should come to though, since she actually lived there. Hopefully she could keep living there, because if Seneca lost then she wouldn't be, and it was so annoying trying to find a new home. She was allowed to do as she pleased here, and as such she wanted to stick around.

She kept to the dunes and rocks of the place to hide herself, tucking herself away where she could see the fight but others would have to look for her to find her. After her little expedition into the Mire it wasn't a good idea for them to find her hanging out at the Oasis challenge. Not just yet anyway. Besides, she much preferred hanging out on the outskirts of things.

She did scan the crowd for the cubs she'd helped rescue in the pit, Victoria being one of the few lions in this place she actually cared about. They weren't present, but she expected they would be soon enough.

There had been so many calls for challenges recently, Cirilla wondered if Vellen's anger had made these lions challenge. So when the call for the Oasis rang out through the peninsula, the Sigrún daughter was not surprised in the slightest. If anything, she was quite excited at the thought of witnessing a battle. Rising to her paws, the girl moved freely through the neutral lands without worrying about who was following her. She was old enough now to fight her own battles, should she find herself in such a situation.

As she arrived at the border to the badlands, her pace slowed down to a walk. Whilst large-crowd events were her thing, she didn't particularly want to be spotted out of place and cause more trouble after the recent war. The Sigrún name was tarnished, so she wanted to remain out of sight, and out of mind. Instinctively lowering herself down so that her stomach touched the moist ground beneath her, Cirilla moved silently through the territory, etching closer to where the challenge for Andal took place. Positioning herself within some thick foliage, Cirilla pulled forward her ears and listened, rosé eyes observing the potential change in leadership about to occur.

+5 Observe a fight (Ryker vs. Seneca)
+10 Successfully stay hidden for the duration of a thread

Cirilla is attempting to remain hidden

table • art • background

oh no, she finds herself drawing up to the desolate badlands, bright eyes locked on the battling form of seneca and the challenger. the woman hovers anxiously, a far enough distance to see the outcome, but stay away from lashing claws and fangs. since her return, amaryllis seems to be overcome by some insatiable bloodlust, the roar of challenges ringing out near constantly. all the while silently rooting for seneca, his faithful cheerleader, desdemona hopes that he finishes this quickly and they could head back to the oasis.

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