black hole sun, won't you come

A war cry, it was carried across Amaryllis by the summer breeze. Gwynevere immediately made her way towards the direction of the call. Personally, she knew nothing about the woman who had made the cry. However, that wasn’t going to stop her from spectating the entire thing. Besides, she had noticed @Louve ♔ had also left the Bluffs and she would be there as a loyal guard dog for the Queen.

She descended into the shadows of the battle arena, her mismatched gaze watching the pair battle closely. She then spotted Louve and she decided to take a seat at a higher point. She had enough of a vantage point to watch the fight, and keep an eye on Louve.

She unsheathed her long claws and began to run them along her stone seat. She sharpened her weapons, offering a silent threat to anyone who dared to get to close to her, or her pride mates.

― ★ ―
June Y13 | 2 y/o | Wolfbron Bluffs Lioness | at The Pit

Darhke’s Double XP Boost
+10 Barbarian XP: Observe a fight
+10 Barbarian XP: Maintain your weapons

and wash away the rain

code x art

Kireena frowned as she looked towards the source of the call. She would call to her children - giving them the opportunity to observe the realities of life if they so chose. Naturally, she wouldn't leave them to go alone.. even growing like weeds as they were, she didn't want them injured by someone thinking them easy targets. The red druid made her way towards the pit, her bi-colored gaze noting those in attendance already. She peered into the bloodstained centerstage and hummed. She thought she might recognize the one lion, but the other? She wasn't sure - however who she DID recognize. "Lev!" Her voice rang out as she picked up the pace, intending to come up to @Levana's side, her expression curious. "What is...... all of this?" She would gesture with a large paw at the lions fighting in the center. Perhaps Levana would have an idea of what was going on moreso than the druid.

code by koi, manip by tabs, images from unsplash

He followed his mother, not really interested in the fight itself, but seeing things beyond what he had been used to - certainly. The youth kept close to @Kireena's legs as they moved, his eyes passing over the gathering with curious intent. When she drew up beside @Levana he shifted and hung close to his mothers haunch, settling down and staring at the lions fighting int he middle of the pit, his eyes wide as they battled with such ferocity.

It wasn't that he'd never seen a fight before, but this one seems to be... different. It seemed to be harsher and full of stakes that went well over his head.

---

Kirja is open to interactions!

lyric or quote line one

longer lyric or quote line two

code by corvus

The wandering sprite was on her way to the Pit to gather some clove when she heard some very loud sounds. She paused for a moment, unsure whether to approach or to keep her distance. Although she didn’t possess fighting skills, she thought it might be a valuable opportunity to learn about healing. She crouched low to the ground, observing the gathering crowd until she spotted someone familiar. Remaining on the outskirts of the chaos, she cautiously moved closer to Kireena, her ears lowered in concern. Excuse me, Miss @Kireena, may I ask what’s happening? Is it safe for me to be here? The sprite looked up at the majestic lioness, then glanced at the male yearling and the unfamiliar lioness nearby. With her sunrise-colored eyes, she took in the situation, assessing the injuries and trying to remember which plants could be of assistance.

[ rogue lioness | summer - june y13 | medic exp ]
*Double from Darhke

+5 Attend challenge to assess the wounds (double +10 - Death Match)

code by corvus || back ground image

Everyone was tense, there were lions from different prides, some she saw as enemies once, but standing with her family meant greater to her than any blood feud, her eyes dance from the fighters, her claws digging into the ground beneath her. He had to win. She begged for it. Not just for the safety of her family, for the war to never dawn upon them, but also for the man she knew up in the mountains, somewhere far off, where they still shared a den, and were just simple lions without titles or names.

Her thoughts drift back to her cubs, tucked away, she should have hidden her scent better, shouldn't have left their newborn scents on her fur, but she'd been in such a hurry, now she kicked herself for it as the woman threatened to kill cubs without care.

Lev!

Her name causes her ears to perk and she turns in time to see a familiar face enter, her eyes light up and she moves to greet her friend, head butting against the woman's chin before pulling back to look at her, "Kireene." She breathes the name with soft tones, eyes flitting to the young one behind her, a gentle smile takes her lips before she turns her attention back to her friend.

"This pathetic excuse of a creature called for my cousins head, she's said she would not care to kill young cubs too. She's declared war. And he, Kvare, he stepped in to take my cousins place." Her voice trembled a bit as her attention turned to the red dragon that fought the gray cat.

@Kireena

The Judge was all too aware of how irrational the Executioner could be, and the relentless string of losses had driven Miaran to the brink of madness. That same madness that had compelled Miaran to take the life of their own beloved Matriarch. The haunting call that echoed now was eerily reminiscent of one she had heard three years ago. Often, Adeline found herself grappling with the thought that perhaps Death should have embraced her sister instead of condemning her to Exile. She tenderly placed the young cubs in Lyla's care within a secret den, hidden far away from Vermeda, away from any Pride, to keep them safe. Afterward, she meticulously cloaked her scent to ensure neutrality before making her way to the call in the Pit.

The fight had erupted, with an eager crowd swelling around, though only two faces were familiar to her. One face carried the trust of Khadija, while the other was still shrouded in mystery, known only as a 'Skjol' with Darhke. As Adeline edged closer, she glimpsed her sister already engaged in combat with a sizable male she couldn’t identify. Ears flattening in concern, she chose to keep her distance from any particular faction, opting instead to observe from a discreet spot. She was close enough to @Manon and @Louve ♔ to overhear their words, yet far enough to maintain her anonymity. "Puissiez-vous enfin faire face à l'emprise de la mort, bourreau," May you finally face Death's grip, Executioner, she whispered, the words laced with a bitterness that only the French Wolfbron lionesses could discern, but soft enough to evade the notice of the larger crowd.

It was painfully clear that Adeline would not extend her support to Miaran. The noose of fate was tightening around her sister's neck.


Potential Experience
* Double from Darhke
Sleuth
+20 Learn something about pride/group/family relations
Assassin
+10 Practice covering your scent (wiped scent of cubs from fur)
+10 Gather information about a character (Kvare)

code by corvus

The Executioner exists in a world of shadows and silence, her senses honed, focusing solely on the trembling coward before her. Adrenaline surged through her veins, a fierce tide propelling her into her element. This was her domain, where Miaran could feel her heart pounding a wild rhythm, a powerful testament to her purpose. If she were to fall on this fateful night, her spirit would linger, haunting those who dared cross her. For the dead, after all, reveled in stirring the affairs of the living.

With a primal roar, Miaran's left claws streaked across his face, slicing shallow marks that bled tension as he twisted away. But her fangs had indeed found purchase, sinking into his muzzle with a ferocity that was indescribable. Each attempt to crush his sinus cavities was a dance for death, while her right front claws dug mercilessly into his arm flesh, attempting at tearing through his muscle as though it were nothing but parchment.

Kvare, relentless even in his own desperation, twisted his head, peeling her fangs away from his grip. The sharp pain of his claws digging into her chest as he shoved her back sent a surge of rage coursing through her.

Reinvigorated by the sting of her injury, Miaran recalibrated herself in an instant, her claws extended to intimidating lengths, her eyes narrowed with fiercity, and her ear pinned back against her skull with unwavering focus. She moved with predatory grace to his left, seeking to attempt to tear in to the end of his ribcage where the diaphragm was located, the thin flesh vulnerable and inviting. Her chin dipped instinctively to shield her throat, while her left claws aimed for the soft flesh of his shoulder, just beyond the protective shroud of his mane. Each action was a vow, a promise to carve her wrath into the very essence of his being. The clear scars that marred his face from their last encounter swirled in her thoughts like a symphony of vengeance.

Kvare would bear more of the indelible marks of the Executioner on his body for eternity. Pyrrha would live with her tongue forever shredded and scarred by Miaran’s claws. Drauhir’s once flawless skin would remain a canvas of her fury, and Morrigan’s face, marred by her wrath, was a testament to the chaos she wrought. Reti would feel her shadow cast over his wretched existence, eternally weakened by his undead status. But Kvare—oh, Kvare—he would be consumed by her relentless fury. She was a tempest, an unbridled force of nature, manic and unyielding, devouring all who stood in her path.

They called for war, that tragic dance of chaos. Yet, when Alexander failed to protect his own son, cowering in cowardice while anothers fought in Karsa's stead, Miaran felt the flame of outrage ignite within her. She would unleash every ounce of her fury, with every last breath, a warrior fighting for her own revengeful cause that transcended fear—a testament to her strength, etched in blood and memory. Her focus was entirely on the enemy in front of her.


Miaran vs. @Kvare
Death
Round 2 / 7
Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 6 + 20 + 18 + 8 + 1 + 4

Dodges:

Rolling 8d20: 15 + 16 + 6 + 5 + 9 + 18 + 1 + 11

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 12 + 15 + 8 + 17 + 18

* +1 Dodge for success perk roll
https://www.amaryllis-lions.com/thread-2...#pid225897

table code by daanyen

The call for death surprised her a little bit. She'd not been back in Amaryllis for too terribly long, ans the last time she'd been here the land had been rather violent in nature regardless. Zabrina had been inclined to keep to herself - when a very familiar voice rang through the air. No... she'd only just found him again, and now he could be taken from her forever...

Paws carried her rapidly from the shores she'd been living at towards the pit. As she arrived, she could tell she was not the first to arrive to view the spectacle. Teal eyes locked onto her husband, and she froze in place. She couldn't even speak, fearful that if she were to announce her presence that it would not only distract @Kvare but call unwanted attention to herself. She knew no one here, and thus would remain by herself, away from everyone else as she prayed to whatever deity she could to bring her husband through this.

She didn't want to lose him so soon after they'd found each other again...

---

Post 1/5 for Zabrina on Absence

text. "speech."

Art by Drifty | Table code by Zodiac

A chill had swept over her the moment the haunting summons reached her ears upon the evening fields, beckoning to her like a whisper from the grave. The sensation followed her now, dogging her hurried steps as she made for the pit, the cold hungry and reaching in her wake. Aneistri didn’t recognize the voice, didn’t put together who it was intended to summon, but she remained intimately familiar with its intent.

Death. Destruction. Ruin.

She felt chilled and jittery despite the season by the time she came upon the gathering crowd (of course there was a crowd; there was always a crowd). A look of worry, of dread, sat fixed upon her girlish features as she stopped to take in the sight of the uppermost edge of the arena bearing its share of spectators, its concave shape sending all the sounds of conversation and battle straight into the air above them. Her periwinkle eyes passed nervously over the backs of strangers as she drew slowly nearer, closer, dreading what awaited her gaze at the basin’s center and yet feeling drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It wouldn’t be her family there fighting for their lives, but she was sure to see them reflected in these nameless faces regardless.

An anxious glance was cast over her speckled shoulder, seeking the familiar, steadying presence of her brother, @Orei. He had followed, surely, just as tethered to every flicker of madness as she was even if he somehow remained so stoically unaffected. She needed his unending peace for this. She needed his presence to keep her here in the present and grounded enough not to become lost to the memories of the past.

Swallowing, her insides filled with ice, she made for an open space at the top of the pit, easy enough to find yet given how early into the battle it remained and how wide the space to choose from. She didn’t dare descend, to seek any manner of front row seat; no, she preferred the nose bleeds, where the expressions of the combatants would be more difficult to make out. Aneistri stopped, her claws flexing into the dry earth, and stared down at the fighters with her breath already caught in her lungs.

Not her family. No.

But similar enough.

A large, dark lion. A smaller, gray lioness. Not perfect matches, and yet Ani’s mind filled in the gaps, adding hues of purple and blue from the night sky to those below until they became her mother and father, tearing and biting at each other with the intent to end the other. Not yet, no—the bruising force of the collision to the lioness and shallow gashes left on the lion's face were not enough to end a life, she knew upon seeing the evidence for herself—but soon. Too soon. Her body felt tight, locked in place, as she struggled even to swallow, to breathe, desperately wanting to turn and find her sibling or at least scream for him but feeling unable even to flinch. She only shivered, the only movement she could make and one she couldn’t even control.

+5 10 Attend a spar or challenge to assess the wounds (1 of 2)
+5 10 Observe a fight (1 of 2)

IMG - CODE

If Pyrrha was indeed capable of any feelings of love or affection when it came to the notion of husbands and wives, she felt it when the call rang out. When for that moment she had to consider that this time tomorrow her life could be radically different. Her plans jettisoned off track, and one of the few lions she actually liked could be dead. But the inconvenience to her surprisingly began to pale in comparison to the anger and fear this brought up within her. There's plenty of men Pyrrha would be content to see called to death. Karsa was not one of them. The thought of his life being cut short was unacceptable.

The roller coaster continues- she's jogging, then racing, towards the sounds. A fight is already underway and her belly plummeted. Karsa.... Damn it. Pyrrha wanted to learn to like him more, things could have worked so well. Gradually she steels herself to round the edge of the pit and see her betrothed in the midst of battle. She holds her breath- bites her tongue and then ..

Kvare. She can't help but let the name tumble from her surprised lips. And she's not sure whether she's more relieved or more angry. Angry that he's here again after all this time, angry that he might die here and not get to watch his precious son play King. That she might not get the chance to prove how foolish he was for favoring them over her... But it's not Karsa. In fact after a quick sweep Pyrrha does not see him here at all- she sees Alexander, she sees Drauhir...

She see @Khadija. With intent and purpose Pyrrha veers her direction towards the traitorous woman and aims to come up right beside her.

The rightful ruler of Caladan- what an honor. Unable to find Karsa, unable to reassure herself that he is indeed safe, Pyrrha turns to mockery and threats. Her voice is heavy with sarcasm, with cruelty. She cannot help her father, she cannot help her husband to be... but everything within her craves a piece of this moment. If Miaran will attempt to take someone dear to Pyrrha, someone dear to the Savante, then maybe Pyrrha will take one of the few lions left who seemed friend to the crazed lioness. How is Milano doing Khadija? Well I hope. She draws out the words and ran her tongue along the tips of her teeth threateningly. Taunting. Hurt children. Hurt friends. These are the prices you pay for picking the wrong side. You better hope Kvare wins and ends this here and now.

_{BG — ART BY RABBIT — CODE}