Hellfire. Hellfire.

Ain't no chariots of fire, come to take me home I'm lost in the woods, and I wander alone

Elaine followed her mother's shadow calling to let @Louve ♔ know that she was heading to the Mire. The heiress knew that they would need to show their support, just as the Mire had done time and time again. Elaine arrived to the Mire and her nose curled slightly as the ground seemed to try to pull her skin off her. She moved away from her mother to find a place away from other, her sharp blue gaze steady as she looks around waiting to see how things go this time. The last challenge, she got put on babysitting duty, this time she was the one with the rank to command her mother if needed and not the other way around.

Take My Soul

Burn in an alleyway through a dead end street Murdering promises that I just can't keep

code by corvus|Image

The new mother had woken up late and had stayed with the cubs when their father attended the meeting, the chimera smiled at all four of them, her heart swelling until she heard roars, then her heart sank. ""Stay here children." She murmured softly and tucked them safely into the back of the den before she emerged , heading to where the fighting took place.


Worried eyes sought out @Hubert, hoping he was here, then her breath hitched, she watched Bruno slam into a tree and knew it was over, her fearful gaze turned to Luther, a cold dread in her stomach. Now she wanted to call for Hubert, what would they do now?

Sit still you say? Stay behind when the air rattled beyond the den mouth; how could anyone? Ambretta waits a whole (and very solemn) five seconds before she looks to her siblings and then scuttles out slowly after their mother. The Mire stirs balefully, a whisper of something the girl had never witnessed before. Naturally the cub is curious and so toddles further along - though once the sounds of many voices begin to fall over the Jungle, she begins to belly call crawl in a bustily not-so-sneaky (but she would swear otherwise!) fashion. Head popping from a bush like a fawn about to say hello to the day to try and see what was going on. Though her green eyes danced cautiously about, not yet understanding the severity of the situation before them all.

""

code by scorpixia♡︎

under the chemtrails 
over the country club

Level 2: Has IC knowledge about the prides and their territories (dens, ranks filled, etc.)
Level 5: Can't be discovered if actively hidden in threads


She does not care about the meeting, interrupted as it is, and truthfully she does not care about the challenge, either.

She comes to ( and through ) the ecrosian muck for one reason and one reason alone.

And instead, she finds three.

Her gaze alights upon arsinoë first before moving to ianthe. These girls are splintered mirrors of the girl she knows, the one she's come here to see. A frown curves her lips as gossamer gaze searches and searches until --

there.

Surrounded by a cluster of little ones, @Hekate stands. Surrounded by her mirror images and yet still lazare could pick her out from a crowd of matching faces. Easily. As easy as breathing. She'd beaten death once before, and so finding a light in the mire was nothing in comparison. Edging closer but hidden still, lazare lurks and waits -- barely a shred of mind paid towards the challenge at hand.

code by flea, art by irish

@Luther VS. @Bruno FOR Ecrosia Mire
— DEFAULT —

Due to Bruno forfeiting, this fight has defaulted.

LUTHER HAS WON THE CHALLENGE FOR ECROSIA MIRE!

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.

---

WOUNDED ROLL

performed on discord by @Roamer ★

Bruno is automatically WOUNDED for losing!

Luther Wounded Roll: 5

Luther is WOUNDED!

Profiles will be adjusted to reflect the wounded rolls, which, if received, reduce the character’s hits and dodges by -1 for an standardized amount of time. Any wounded rolls received from this fight are considered healed as of 01/28/24, and are logged in the wounded log. Once healed, post in Trade & Dice Updates to have your dice returned to normal.

His jaws snap tight around Bruno’s limb like a bear trap, teeth digging deep through the sparse dark flesh and grinding against bone. Pure cruelty and hatred willed him to do nothing but tear his insolent little brother to shreds. To finally put him in his place – beneath him. Where he belonged.

But no quicker than he’d managed to obtain a grip, the slippery bastard was free—

—and plummeting straight towards a tree trunk, bashing his skull on the rough surface with the power that Luther had tugged him with just seconds ago.

It all happened too fast. It took Luther a few moments to realize the finality of their battle. To realize that Bruno was not getting up to swing back with vengeance. His brows furrowed if only for a split second to mark his distrust before he noticed the subtle rise and fall of Bruno’s flank. His lips twisted in a victorious snarl much akin to a sneer – the ugly truth of the wolf that lurked underneath his lamb coat. Bruno might not be dead, but he was no longer wearing the false crown. Luther’s crown.

It glimmered so wonderfully now atop his head – where it belonged.

Triumphant. He swings around with the same prideful fire, borne of battle and kindled by his victory, to watch the audience gathered. Among them, he saw his traitorous kin, and his eyes landed on @Alaric where he stood beside the Wolfbron banshees. Surrounded by women. Typical. He sometimes wondered if he fucked them, too. Who knows what sort of poison they were pouring into his ears right this moment? But it is too late now. He would’ve fallen from grace with or without the poison. His calculating, cold gaze noted the many youths flocking around him, around the swamp trees, looking down from the perches like the tiny roaches they were. Half of them bound to him by blood, no doubt. A traitor’s blood. “My name is Luther Rike,” his voice rose above the conundrum, the red of his brother’s blood trickling down his chin while his wounds burned white hot. “My Vater—” he glanced with contempt towards Alaric. “and my Bruder—” his eyes trailed toward Bruno’s slumped figure on the swamp floor. “Have betrayed me – the true Heir. They kept my children as prisoners and conspired to kill me.” All truths in his eyes. And now they will pay for it. Oh, they will! “And so judgment day has come. Any Stärke child that has resided in the Mire will be under my guard.” My prisoners. They had only their traitorous fathers to thank. Justice was incredibly exciting. “Oh,” his eyes focused on Alaric again. “And let us not forget my Vater’s whores. They are all to remain here.” He had seen that wimpy drunkard Queen bellowing at the top of her lungs in fear when he’d come to Eris’ rescue. “The rest of you are dismissed. I have no space in my ranks for betrayers and ass-kissers.” He spat to the side, disgusted with their audacity to even breathe the same air as him. Their crimes will not be forgotten. “Any who wish to stay, however, pledge your allegiance now. I will return Ecrosia to its former glory.” They will no longer be just a fly on the wall, waiting to hear what the harpies dictate before they take action. He knew @Anya and Ingrid must be somewhere and was certain that they would be loyal to him, so they would stay.

His eyes trailed toward where @Emory and @Eris stood. I told you I will be back, his look spoke, but beyond that, he did not move towards them. They were finally free and shall be brought back to their rightful positions of royalty. And perhaps more. He knew @Alarith was somewhere in the branches above, and hoped that she had not slipped away just yet. Not before he could finally have her under the safety of his newfound power. He stood on guard, eyeing his enemies. He did not put anything past them now, and the way the Wolfbron whores had gathered around Alaric & co like a nest of snakes he was expectant of an attack.

It had all happened so quickly. Everything had come to ruin within a matter of seconds. And perhaps Neytiri would have accepted such a fate. Knowing that this was just the way of the world. Yet as she listened to this Luther speak, her ears slid back and her brows drew down. This was certainly not a man she wished to be associated with.

His Vater's whores.. She could only assume that that meant Fafher and given his looks, Father must be Alaric. Well Neytiri was most assuredly nobody's whore. Thus that little statement did not apply to her. So she turned away, and headed for the Hollow.

Exit Neytiri from EM

Art by Yumpy, Code by Minxy

Alarith

i am a tender bird parading as this vulture. i love things unto their very bone & yet have always held grief a fragile vein

She didn't understand all that he said, or the implications therewithin. But she were no stranger to its malice, nor could she deny herself the looks of fear and hatred that sprawled across the faces of those in attendance as the curly-haired King felled before @Luther's paws. Her claws clutched the branch beneath her, felt its crackling protest. Her inhale was sharp enough to give away her position to any who were not distracted by the cacophony now drowning out the noises of the swamp. Everything strung along slower now—and she could see the forms of stragglers leaving the territory, and could see others fettered where they stood. Alarith could not stave away the sudden rush of fear and anxiety that flooded through her, an urgent twist in her belly that commanded her leave, leave now. But even her maidenlike sympathy only stretched so far.

They were all strangers to her. Alarith had only ever known protecting her own kind. To expend heroics on others lead only to death and despair.

Slowly, she rose to her paws, and as the crowd began to disperse and once-spectators began to machinate under their breaths, Alarith made her way toward the new King. There is a certain satisfaction that came with realizing what she had thought of him—the forest had bent under his command, and now the lions within it would kneel, as well. The Mire cared not for what sort of man lead it so long as it thrived under their rule, and its grounds would be just as sated with lions' blood as it would with any other.

Perhaps it were all justifications trying to will away the gnawing feeling of dread. Was that not bloodlust that glinted in his gaze? Did he not seem to revel in the unrelenting power now within his paws? Luther were only a victim of circumstance—he were exactly the monsters her parents had painted of outsiders when she were just a girl. She thought she already knew all his secrets.

She remained just out of reached. Poised, almost proper, paws neatly tucked beneath her feathery breast, rising and falling with every exaggerated breath. Her gaze remained focused on the Ecrosian King, silent, yet all-telling. She was here to stay, if he would have her.

code by cala, art by AleTie

It was Narsil's oldest who drew her attention his words directed at his mother had the Yu woman's brow raise. He deserved an ass whopping for that tone. Though Narsil would speak to @Livyatan and Fenna would huff laughter bubbling into her throat. Especially as the voice of the smaller Tollaire joined in. "A shame" she'd humm at @Narsil's decision to not join unless forced. "Though unless he has new friends I doubt many will come, Last time it was just the crows" the Yu spoke from what she remembered about the last challenge and so far none of her mercenary comrades had shown up to join the fight. At Narsil's words about Leaving Fenna's gaze swept to her older son a grin forming on her lips "Gladly" she'd wait but only because he was family. Even if Livyatan did not see Fenna as an aunt the Yu had decided that he was a nephew of hers as he was a son of Narsil.

Watching the fight her eyes grew wide as the king was tossed against a tree the sound of his head hitting the bark echoing. Then silence the fallen monarch didn't rise and his brother proclaimed his victory.

Fenna didn't care much for his speech, as long as it didn't put Narsil or her sons in danger Luther's takeover was of no importance to her. Of course, his decision to throw them all out changed her expression as her grin faded into a scowl. She was free to go, no fighting required. What the hell? She'd been looking forward to fighting her nephew again. "Well that sucks" she grunted under her breath almost pouting as she looked to Narsil "Need help gathering the boys?" she asked referring to the woman's youngest brood who had so far not shown up for the challenge.

code by corvus

The chattering along the sidelines, drama that she might slide herself into, interested her more than the actual challenge which she couldn't. All the real fun had to wait for the aftermath. The speeches, the drama, the exiles, the punishments. She dismissed the thud of lion against tree. When someone finally spoke and finally sounded important enough for her to listen she jerked her gaze back, ears flaring at the indignity of being out of the loop (if only briefly (if only through her own fault).) @Luther had... won? Where was Bruno? Lips curled, imagining him run away or disintegrated somehow, and when she spotted his still form her lips loosened to near disappointment. This fight had not met her standards for excitement.

But it was the aftermath. The revenge spoken. Glory to be regained. The lure of strength tempting this wayward soul to more dexterous ways. "I'm in," she decided with a flourish of her head, shaking out her pink fluff and imagining it gleaming. Everything important had to be decided thusly: on a whim.