so it would appear the gods are sick with their humor, prying into her private affairs now as they rally both of her husbands against her ally. the bright crimson form of amaroq thrust into a fray that further succumbs to the tantalizing throes of violence under their king’s critical gaze. and a stare devoid of emotion lingers on @Alaric as she searches for a hint of amusement, likening him to an emperor overseeing the carnage of his colosseum for his own twisted pleasure and pride. and were she not participating in tandem, perhaps she’d seek to place blame on the mire ruler for her friends’ savagery. but the fight earns her intrigue instead, gritting her teeth at the whim of a jaw that clenches with uncertainty. although impressed with their finesse as the battle subsides (and duly amused), her countenance betrays the thought in favor of a rare indifference. and her chest heaves with a sigh as the champions emerge, leaving violarum and the stranger to rot in their defeat for a transgression unknown to her. but @Vághan speaks, his words injecting venom into open air, and olive’s gaze narrows with a touch of disdain. their encounter in the cave now meaningless as his guise dissipates at the fault of his bursting ego, tainting her opinions of him. ugh, men. carmine gaze flits to @amaroq briefly, knowingly, before it trails after the departing form of the hulking phantom. and a moment of hesitance is given before she heaves herself upon all fours and resolves to follow, dainty paws falling in line with vághan’s as they had before in the cavern. -- exeunt olive

art by yumpy!

OOC: Edited to fix open code, okayed by Squid!
There is a problem forming here. Was Alaric inviting any old guy into the pride? Okay, sure - Vio happily invited strangers. Yet, it is an expectant look at @Alaric, who sits upon the sidelines, sides heaving; wondering how he felt about nobodies ganging up on his second? Did he care?

The expression upon his face is one that came rarely. A boil that simmered beneath the musculature of his cheekbones, a rage that furled where aloofness usually loitered. Then, @Vághan - who the fuckery was this guy? He had smelt of Rogue and stale bed-wetting, and yet here he was talking like he was somebody more than nobody.

This was no longer just about Amaroq being biased. This was about both of them. They had to go.

A snarl reverberating across his face, torn and bleeding, but Vághan runs from his problems apparently. He's gone in the blink of an eye. @Amaroq you're up buddy!

With a new-found anger beneath his breast, Violarum jutted his right shoulder and attempted to run at the red male head-on; seeking to thump his shoulder into the male's sternum. Simultaneously, he would attempt to find the prior damage behind Amaroq's right shoulder and try to re-sink his teeth in there somewhere. Let's see how you fare in a 1v1, handsome 'noble guy'.

Violarum vs. @amaroq
Dominance - Round 1 of 3
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 7 + 13 + 15 + 8 + 3 + 11 + 14

Dodges:

Rolling 2d20: 19 + 15

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 20 + 12 + 15 + 6 + 2

_{art by kairi —}

I know I've only felt religion
when I've lied with you

The red soldier's jaws will drip with the blood of his advesary, his talons twitching as thick, rivulets of crisom drip, drip, drip to the earth below. The violence, the hunger, is still surging hungrily beneath Amaroq's toned flesh, when the Sovereign comes for him again.

It would appear, Alaric's second in command would now throw an aggressive tantrum, and Amaroq is fine with the man-baby boy king having a hissy fit, as the soldier braces himself for yet another impact. Thus, together they connect once more - clay crashing upon red - colliding in a fury of fangs and talons. Amaroq feels Violarum's right shoulder thud painfully into his chest, a short hitch of breath leaving Amaroq's jaws and the muscles there would undoubtedly bruise, ache.

Violarum's fangs will then bury into his wounded right shoulder, and another snarl of pain leaves the soldier's jaws, the fur torn further, the blood now oozing down, down, down Amaroq's muscular limb. Instinctively, Amaroq would lunge forward, driven by wrath and adrenaline (although significantly tired now), attempting to sink his teeth into the side of Violarum's face, hoping to grab and maybe tear at the cheek muscle. Amaroq would follow that attack by attempting to swing his left paw downward, talons viciously drawn out, aiming to slam it down on Violarum's right paw.

Amaroq & @Violarum
for Dominance
1 of 3

Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 10 + 20 + 13 + 16 + 6

Dodges:

Rolling 1d20: 18

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 18 + 10 + 12 + 2 + 15

Art © Aurora

Only now does the clay man realize the sting of Amaroq's prior assault; scathed wounds upon his shoulder and grazes to his muzzle. Still, through the heat of his frustration - the anger of being outnumbered into an unfair fight (and perhaps the ache of losing) - he is unfazed by the burn. Adrenaline was a useful thing.

His shoulder would thump, counter bruising sure to spread Vio's right shoulder point, and his teeth would sink into flesh. Amaroq retaliates, slamming his forepaw down upon Vio's right toes - the joints flattened beneath, talons piercing into the webbing of his toes. A snarl, the instinctive tension of his jaw, attempting to burrow deeper into the already wounded right shoulder of the red male.

Teeth like pointed razors snag the right size of Violarum's face; deepening a wound already inflicted, tearing at old scarring that hadn't yet had time to solidify. Blood now streamed his cheek, running down into the darkness of his mane. In an effort to save his right toes, Violarum scoops his own left forepaw and attempts to hook talons into the back of Amaroq's right forelimb - trying to do anything to throw his balance enough to make him retract his assaulting claws.

Violarum vs. @amaroq
Dominance - Round 2 of 3
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 3 + 2 + 11 + 17 + 20 + 8 + 7

Dodges:

Rolling 2d20: 7 + 4

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 13 + 7 + 2 + 4 + 11

_{art by kairi —}

this world is dying in our arms

"what the fuck," this is about the only thing that he can think to say, as chaos erupts before him. amaroq lunges immediately in to a fight that alaric had half expected, as vaghan didn't seem the type to let insults lie. two fully grown males against a teenager and violarum hardly seemed a fair fight, no matter how much faith he had in his sovereign. "that wasn't really necessary," he snapped to nobody in particular, though perhaps @Zelda was still listening. he might have given them all a tongue lashing if they had given him half a second, but @Violarum barely stopped to breath before initiating another fight. alaric wasn't sure if he had even much as @amaroq could hold his own he was sure the male must be tiring, and imagined the sovereign wasn't far behind. vaghan was quick to peace out once he was done, and the king made a mental note to seek the man out at a later date. this, evidently, was the price he paid for wanting strong fighters in the pride. "boys," he muttered, watching the hopefully final fight with a bit of a frown..

code // art

I know I've only felt religion
when I've lied with you

Thick, crimson blood will run down the soldier's wounded shoulder, the pain amplified - searing - as the clay beast further deepens the wound, gouging those snapping fangs deep into Amaroq's torn shoulder-flesh.

The pain is most agonizing, and a barbarous snarl escapes the soldier's jaws, feeling the heat and fire burning wildly against his shredded flesh. Amaroq's left paw would then slam downward, his long, black talons unsheathed as he seeks to viciously crush Violarum's right toes; applying a force so jarring, to see the clay man now shudder in rage.

Amaroq's jaws would snap forward, fangs raking down the sovereign's face, drawing blood as the soldier savours the bloodied flavour of his advesary. Violarum is not without his strength, however, and how swiftly his opponent's claws would snake forward, their sharp tips sinking behind Amaroq's right forelimb.

To keep his balance, Amaroq eventually relents, feeling the blood streak his fur, releasing Violarum's toes but moving his paw backwards in a savage, jerking manner, attempting to lacerate and shred the inbetween of Violarum's toes. Amaroq would then attempt to strike Violarum's muzzle once more, hoping to maybe stab at the boy king's nose.

Amaroq & @Violarum
for Dominance
2 of 3

Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 14 + 15 + 7 + 10 + 1

Dodges:

Rolling 1d20: 13

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 5 + 6 + 2 + 15 + 3

Art © Aurora

His right forelimb had surely seen better days. Only recently recovered from the broken bone inflicted during the war. Now it seemed Amaroq had every intention of inflicting a last limp, as Violarum's claw-slash brings about the violent retraction; shredding the webbing between his bloodied toes.

The backwards withdrawal forced Violarum's jaws free of their prior seat, a moment of coldness between them as the clay man returned his left forelimb to stability; ensuring to attempt a similar tearing motion to the red man's own, trying to inflict deeper damage to the male's right forelimb.

A snarl accompanies the realization of pain, as blood began to pool beneath the pads of his right toes, his weight easing instinctively off the wounded paw as if to nurse it. Though Amaroq has a fixation upon his rival's face, and he no sooner sends gnashing fangs flying at Violarum's muzzle.

In a partial counter effort, the Sovereign attempts to meet the red beast's violent advance; trying to slightly twist his head in a manner that might allow him to attach his own teeth onto his opponents lower jaw - an eye for an eye. Hoping to match any damage to himself that would follow, in order to mark the end of the brawl.

Violarum vs. @amaroq
Dominance - Round 3 of 3
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 15 + 4 + 2 + 19 + 17 + 12 + 20

Dodges:

Rolling 2d20: 15 + 4

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 11 + 15 + 14 + 5 + 9

_{art by kairi —}

I know I've only felt religion
when I've lied with you

Amaroq is enervated, but no out yet. Blood is profuse now, trickling wetly through Amaroq's torn flesh. His muscles ached and shuddered, the pain and exhaustion evident as Amaroq cannot evade Violarum's assaults that now readily land within their precision; ushering another wrathful snarl free of Amaroq's jaws. By now, Amaroq's shredded shoulder is more than moderately wounded, if not heavily, and his right forelimb bares thick lacerations as Violarum withdraws his talons.

As Amaroq moves in to slice into the Sovereign's nose flesh, Violarum would counter attack, his advesary's fangs catching Amaroq against the lower jaw; lacerating the flesh there, grazing but not entirely attaching, cutting the vermillion skin as blood pools inbetween the soldier's long, ivory teeth. The pain is electric, searing, making Amaroq lower his head in the desire to tuck his jaw into his chest muscles. Yet in their strange and bloodied embrace - as a last hurrah - Amaroq would follow that defensive move by another offence, attempting to now sweep his left forelimb upward, aiming to rake sharp talons behind any fleshy lip-meat exposed and tug downward, violently.

Amaroq & @Violarum
for Dominance
3 of 3

Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 3 + 12 + 6 + 7 + 14

Dodges:

Rolling 1d20: 8

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 15 + 14 + 5 + 11 + 13

Art © Aurora

@Violarum VS. @Amaroq FOR DOMINANCE
— RESULTS —

Violarum Hits: 4+3+5+1 Luck = 13
Violarum Dodges: 2+0+1 = 3

Amaroq Hits: 3+2+2 = 7
Amaroq Dodges: 1+1+0 = 2

Violarum Successful Hits: 11
Amaroq Successful Hits: 4

@Violarum HAS WON THE CHALLENGE FOR DOMINANCE!

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.

The fight concludes, and Violarum's victory is enough to bring about his withdrawal; sides heaving, face running with blood. @Amaroq had closed the deal with a final scratch to his face, the near entirety of the Sovereign's damage displayed in the completely bloodied expression of his countenance. His chin dripped with thick scarlet, and a half-hearted sneeze would momentarily rid his nostrils of blood.

"I'm Sovereign," he reminded, a tired flex of his shoulders, "For a reason." Strong boy! Then, a limp, turning away from the red once-was-stranger, a slow and tired saunter past @Alaric - "I don't like them." Is all he would say, hoping @Fallon might accompany him on the journey back to their den. He had one more score to settle, and after that there would need to be decisions.

-- exit

_{art by kairi —}