This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of [violence, heavy gore and blood, cannibalism]

Talons from them both would dig deep into flesh, the warm crimson pouring out in heavy streams. Miaran feels the sharp sting of Morrigan's claws slicing against her face, skin splitting apart, yet Miaran allows her own claws to dig and tear into the soft flesh beneath the witch's jaw, her body twisting even as her own skin flays with the movement.

TRIGGER WARNING!

With determination, she raised her right front paw, bloodied claws extended fully, slashing fiercely at Morrigan's face. "Je suis le bourreau et tu seras mon repas," I am the executioner and you will be my meal, she uttered in fluid French, the words flowing from her lips like a dark promise as she sank her claws deep into the witch's silver eye. With a sudden, violent shift, she tore it free, the grotesque act unfolding in mere seconds as she brought the dislodged eye to her mouth. The jelly burst within her, a bitter sweetness mingling with the iron taste of victory before she swallowed, uncaring of who bore witness.

END TRIGGER WARNING!

Her axe would now swung relentlessly, fueled by an insatiable fury. The Executioner would not waver, continuing to hack away at her enemies. Miaran shifted her body, bloodied fangs bared, ears pinned back, feeling the warm embrace of her own crimson drip fall onto the golden sands below, staining her grey fur a deep, visceral red as she refused to take her eyes off the witch.


OOC: Miaran take @Morrigan Silver Eye out fully.

coded by flea + background credit

The claws at her backside are ripped away as the one who attacked her from behind whirls away to face another attacker. The yearling turns to match with the other yearling in the fray, and finally she can once again focus all of her attention on the opponent in front of her. She was tired of dealing with a ton of lions getting involved into a fight for one lioness. It was frustrating.

As she feels her teeth sink closer to his chin than his jaw, a snarl bubbles up through her mouth. She wanted nothing more than to tear him to shreds at the moment. As his claws sink deeper into her shoulder, she would start to step off to the side, his claws not catching under her arm like he'd aimed for and rather just scraping alongside her lower right side but not digging in as he'd aimed.

Redoubling her efforts, the adrenaline-fueled lioness would once again redouble her efforts in an attempt to sink her teeth in deeper to his chin and then attempt to yank her head backwards - hoping to rip and tear at his face. Leave him with a visible scar from her if she could manage it. Aiming to yank her claws out of his frame, Cassandra would then attempt to dig her front left claws into the area around his right ankle in a hope to cause him to stumble and fall to the ground if she could.


Cassandra, @Étienne, & @Mélisande vs @Velasco, @Manon, & @Cassius ♔
For @Rhea
Round 3/3
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 15 + 20 + 17 + 3 + 4 + 12

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 11 + 6 + 19

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 8 + 9 + 7 + 17 + 10

**+1 hit dice due to pride Tier 4 status - "Tier 4: Bonus to members participating in fights in their pridelands (doubles the level 1 bonus of their master trade)."
**Fatigue Dice: 5 3 5, adding +1 hit dice due to Pride Tier 4 perk makes her fatigue dice 6, 3, 5
*Using Barbarian Perk lvl 2 - "able to take on another opponent after losing a fight (once per thread)"

OOC: If anything's confused do lemme know ^^

actions. "speech."

Art & Table code by Zodiac

TRIGGER WARNING!
This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of possible graphic descriptions of violence, cannibalism.
Morrigan has know defeat before, knows that the younger Queen has bested her for all her godlessness, yet the deathless Queen had stared down a far greater loss than this. A roar of pain escapes her blood-soaked jaws as @Miaran repays her in kind for what she had just done to @Rainer.

The last thing she sees in the silver eye she had inherited from her mother are the daggers of the Caladan sovereign's claws before a white hot flash of pain faded into forever blackness. All while the remaining amethyst witnessed Miaran's display. There was a madness in that purple flame, as she watched the cannibal enjoy her meal. Vermier would be so jealous someone beat him to it. It was her only real conscious thought as she rose, jaws widening in a berserk grin, pink foam dripping unto her daughter's kingdom.

She staggered as she stood, but conscious she was in a most feral form. Survival instinct should be screaming to stand down, she had done enough. But there would never be enough blood spilt to repay what had already been done. She cackled as she watched her swallow, "Now the witch will always be a part of you," she sneered mocking her with her own given nickname, and then she lunged again, reckless and fueled by only rage and hate. She would fight until she fell, and then she would fight again. There was no other choice. She attempted to lunge directly for her opponent's throat this time, her own defenses tossed aside entirely.

To win any battle, you must fight as if you are already dead.

@Morrigan vs. @Miaran
For MAJOR MAIM
part 2: electric boogaloo
Round I / IV
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 10 + 2 + 9 + 17 + 5 + 8

Dodges:

Rolling 2d20: 5 + 6

Luck:

Rolling 6d20: 4 + 5 + 6 + 11 + 8 + 20

Barbarian Level 2: Able to take on another opponent after losing a fight (once per thread)
Dice Modifiers: used master perk in previous fight to negate fatigue, wounded roll from bruno occurred after this in timeline
permission given by celeste <3

table coding by ferus

There was a hesitancy about him that he had not realized would come to thwart his inner thoughts. Feelings and emotions about fighting in a war that he had no information about, not to the extent to which these lions fought. It had been only by the stirring of @Rhea and the call for her theft that made him feel inclined to join in. @Cassandra fighting others (and were others helping her?) to keep their pride-mate within the confines of the Lagoon. It was far too engaged for him to put in his own assistance — berating himself mentally for not having come when he should have — but he stood now, looking to those present to see if anyone needed something. Other than scents he didn't know who was who but at the very least he was here now... better late than never.

ART • CODE

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

Even the most tender touch of her broken right paw on the earth seemed a clash of agony. Instinctively she desired to find some footing, orient herself in the numbing heat of battle and the rushing fatigue, but it felt like that paw was being assaulted by continuous monsters. Like a nightmare, the emotional terror was very real.

Snarls pulsed in her chest on the edge of a scream. She felt the heavy burden of her own jaws as they locked around the enemy forelimb. Muscles clenched with electric rigidity, trying to seize down as hard as they could, but the pain elsewhere made her feel frozen and unable to rip and tear and jerk her head as she normally would. Something sliced through her eyebrow, and deeper, beckoning blood from the void around the eyeball. The fang glanced around the orb but tore at nerves and some grotesque, clear goo. Already blinded by blood, she saw a sharp inner light from that eye and then nothing. Absence in absentia. She had the sense of something missing that she was not using. Something with unknown value - taken! She had not the presence of mind to scream about thievery, or about anything. For the moment she just froze, a frothing and panting beast, a bundle of tired muscles around a vise of jaws.

@Helah vs @Walpurgis
Death
5/7

Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 9 + 17 + 3 + 11 + 14 + 13 + 15

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 4 + 17 + 9

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 10 + 5 + 20 + 18 + 19

Everything around her fell into chaos; she knew from her own sister's warnings that war was looming but she had not exactly prepared for it to happen here or now. Renly had been minding her own business when things had begun to get dicey, leaving her to subconsciously begin moving her body further to the outskirts of the fights that were breaking out. Head twisting left and right, looking to those that might be injured or seeking comfort in some way. Renly had never been a fighter and thus was not her first instinct, but instead she looked to those that might be the same. The more vulnerable that needed her grace regardless of relation.

So she stood amongst the background and helped anyone escape that she could, keeping her eyes on the fold and recognizing that more lions had this handled than she could ever. Renly could not have done what they were and perhaps that was where she realized her flaw. That she had been too doubtful of herself and too deep in her emotions that she had failed to help anyone or go for anyone. Her Grandmummy was putting up one hell of a fight, just as her siblings were and yet here she was... the very bottom of the scale that couldn't live up to their glory. So it was under this that she felt even smaller for she could only imagine the disdain that would look to her once the fighting was over. Words that would repeat what she already knew — she was useless.

(i.e. nova got in a fight with one character and forgot about the rest)

• ART & CODE BY K'SARIYA •

This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of [ENTIRE POST! cannibalism, slighted mentions of egregious act toward cubs, extreme violence/gore/blood]

As Miaran savored the taste of the eye, an overwhelming hunger clawed at her insides, leaving her yearning for more. Her own crimson lifeblood dripped down, soaking into the golden sands and saturating the ghostly, haunting figure she had become. With every heartbeat, she felt a deep primal urge ignite within her, the metallic scent of her own essence overwhelming her senses as she gazed fervently at the Witch.

In some distant reality, under different skies, they could have been allies, united in purpose and spirit. But the unyielding laws of the Mob were woven into the very fabric of the Viper Queen’s being, dictating that to defy the inevitable grip of death was a grievous sin, deserving only of the harshest punishment. A feral growl erupted from her throat as she flashed her bloodied fangs, hissing in defiance at Morrigan's audacity, "Non, I will rid myself of you just as I did with my husband and children." Her words laid bare the dark truth of her existence—a stark acknowledgment of her sins, a chilling testimony to her heart devoid of love. She had loved no one, cared for nothing.

-- Current Fight Here --

Her claws sank deep into the sand, the grains slipping through her grip as she flagged her tail in restless agitation. When Morrigan surged forward, Miaran readied herself for the collision, instinctively tucking her chin just enough to feel the sharp scrape of teeth against her jaw and neck—an electrifying reminder of the battle that lay ahead once more.

With fierce determination, she shifted her weight, meeting the older lioness’s assault head-on, as her left front paw arched, claws poised and "attempted" to sink into the soft flesh beneath Morrigan's chin and throat. Her powerful back legs anchored her stance, steadying her resolve, while her right front leg served as a steadfast brace against the chaos unfurling around them.


Miaran vs @Morrigan
Major Maim
Part Two
Round 1 / 4
Hits:

Rolling 5d20: 1 + 2 + 7 + 15 + 5

Dodges:

Rolling 6d20: 2 + 7 + 1 + 6 + 8 + 15

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 7 + 5 + 2 + 1 + 16

Fatigue Dice: 5/6/5

coded by flea + background credit

This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of gore, extreme violence, eye damage, broken limbs. This is a death match, and the fight is brutal.

Was everything slowing down or was it the adrenaline causing the sudden rush of clarity? The sudden feeling of everything moving through some sort of gelatinous thing- her own limbs felt heavy, her chest heaved with exhaustion and her own blood splattered around the sands. Was the lightheadedness from the fresh concussion or from blood loss? Helah did not know. As her opponent bit down into her foreleg, a scream of rage left her lung- a battered and broken sound, as she swears she feels a bone crack, her own teeth finding something soft and precious, as teeth clamp downwards and the maroon hued beast comes to a panting halt. Without aiming to pull away, Helah would freeze her own movements, breathing out heavily for a heartbeat, her freshly broken leg touching the earth in a painful moment. Agony seared through her, like a lightning bolt.

The reprieve was only to last for a heartbeat as she would aim to violently release the grip she held near Walpurgis's eye, and aim lower to snap her jaws around the female's jaws, trying to squeeze the air from her- to bring the hulking beast fully to her knees.

Even if her own body shook with adrenaline. With the fading energyy.

Helah vs @Walpurgis
For Death
6/7 (almost done, whew)
hits:

Rolling 8d20: 16 + 3 + 8 + 20 + 2 + 18 + 11 + 6

dodge:

Rolling 5d20: 1 + 3 + 2 + 20 + 5

luck:

Rolling 5d20: 8 + 4 + 16 + 17 + 3

ART BY RABBIT, CODE BY LARS

(sorry, didnt realize it was my turn!)

Louve pays no attention to the rest, barely away that their fight had swelled to include more. All she realizes is that Valaine is drawn away and, truthfully, it satisfies the matriarch, who'd rather fight her opponents one on one. Her focus does not stray from the bitch who'd started this shit, though she is irritated that her teeth have seemingly missed their target.

However she does clamp down just below the throat, and tearing open Narsil's neck holds nearly the same appeal. So Louve does not relinquish her grip, instead clenching her jaw and giving her head a sharp shake in an attempt to worsen the damage she may have caused.

At the same time she seeks to use the woman's unbalanced position against her, shoving forward, attempting to drive her back and force her to the ground. Due to their positioning Narsil's claws gouge deep, but not on the sides of Louve's face as she may have wished. Instead they leave nasty marks on her shoulders, wounds that bleed heavily and would likely scar but are not enough to pull the blood-thirsty cannibal from her intent to maim.



Louve & Valaine & @Mirai vs @Narsil & @Dio
Dominance
Round 2 / 3
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 13 + 20 + 11 + 18 + 5 + 6 + 12

Dodges:

Rolling 6d20: 19 + 17 + 16 + 6 + 10 + 4

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 16 + 1 + 17 + 9 + 8

I am not a woman, I'm a god

code x art

TRIGGER WARNING!
This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of eye gore and death struggle
She felt a distant crack, though heard nothing through the rush of silence-adrenaline-noise that was, like static, extremely loud and detailed and obstructive, indicating nothing by itself. The flicker of dark and red around her field of vision remained constant. That she had stabilized. Blood from her forehead wound still pooled around her lower lids, making her world into a smear, but the darkness around her peripheral had stopped pulsing.

Demons generally enter in through my ears.

They fought on bleeding sand and the tide came in and out and the waves were indifferent and yet she heard them... froth? Some fuzz in her ears. Spreading nothingness. Nerves flooding, dying. Blood behind her eye and the iris weeping black. The fangs removed to seek elsewhere, cutting around the sides of her muzzle and stripping skin like meat. Knives against bone. A thin piece near her nostrils breaking. Keeping her broken right paw lifted, she tried to sit back. Pool weight to her hindquarters. Once massive, now shrunken and matted around bony hips. Left paw, with spread and broken claws, trying to again shove the enemy's skull away, trying to push toward head and chest and really whatever was directly in front of her.

A solemn block of stone, a tangle of weeds. She remembered being trapped after a storm in the desert. The debris over her den entrance. Organic yet intractable.

@Helah vs @Walpurgis
Death
6/7

Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 15 + 17 + 5 + 3 + 2 + 16 + 10

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 2 + 9 + 20

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 8 + 4 + 1 + 20 + 11