ORIGIN - [DEATHMATCH] Galleon Vs. One

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Deep within the sands, it was dark. Cool. A weight that pressed
into her on all sides. It even filled the cut on Galleon's chin. When her jaw moved, even a slight shift, she could feel the sand, too, move. A thing that sounds horrifying, unenjoyable, even a new nightmare at the beach. But to Galleon, it was comforting.

She nearly fell asleep in that cool, muffled silence. But her lateral line felt, above, seismic waves in the sand. The struggling of the small thing at the surface. One. It took her a moment to remember oh yeah, I'm supposed to be fighting. Galleon shifted in the sands, until her nose was positioned to ram it. Then, she launched herself at the source of the vibrations.

ROUND 5/?

91%

ATTEMPT: the rare safety and attack combo
DEFENSE: sand shark
INJURIES: owie under jaw :(

@One

Paws flailed, clawing at shifting sands that threatened to consume him whole. It was just enough to keep afloat, to keep himself from suffocating. Adrenaline worked to numb some of the pain, burying it under panic. But there was only so long he could keep this up.

He was a creature of sprints, not marathons, after all.

Something under the sand shifted. He barely noticed it in his fight to stay alive, until something huge slammed into him, like a malicious truck. Abruptly, he was in the air. Better that his previous situation, but not by much.

He landed awkwardly on his hind left leg, letting out a pained shriek as the joint was bent in a way it was not meant for. It wasn't broken- thank the caves it wasn't broken- but it hurt to put weight on. And with the pain now lancing up the opposite leg, he was running out of options.

Maybe a smarter gembound would have forfeited right then, but One wasn't a smart gembound. I mean, he entered this whole fight in the first place.

@Galleon

ROUND 5/5

ATTEMPT: Land safely?
DEFENSE: not really
INJURIES: Big bruises, fractured rib, ouchy leg, extremely exhausted, more bruises + twisted ankle

Okay, so this fight wasn't super exciting, but Nemean was loving it anyway. Why, you ask? Well, let her tell you. In her own words.

"THAT FUCKING SAND-SHARK IS COOL AS SHIT! WHY DON'T WE HAVE ANY SAND-SHARKS?!" So, that was reason one--and the sheer volume of Nemean's voice might have been influenced by the cocktail of unknown contents in one hand. (It was very glowing pink with golden glitter.) Reason two: "THE LITTLE GUY'S GOT FIRE! I LOVE IT!" (She hiccuped.)

Now... how long had this been going? ...Ehh, it didn't matter. Nemean figured a fight could always do with a touch of Draconua. Honestly? Drac was turning out to be the best part of this whole shebang. Usually the hazard-makers were little, industrious dudes around the ring's edge, focusing on the match. Or, y'know, the audience--invitation-only, though.

Actually, that'd be pretty cool...

"HAAAAZAAAARD TIIIME!" she bawled, then squinted, swirling her drink. Fuck, no, that wasn't right. She chugged it and threw it aside. Ran through her mental checklist. Magic amplification? Charged. Spotlights? Primed. Confetti? Ready to ROCK.

The music picked up, the lights began a dizzying sweep over the audience. Nemean's voice became a roar that echoed through Orion.

"DOOM DEATH MEGA DEVASTATION--SUDDEN DEATH--ROUND!!!" she screamed. "GET YOUR HAZARDS IN THERE NOW! MAGIC IS GO! I REPEAT: MAGIC IS GOOOO! YOU HAVE FIFTEEN SECONDS TO THROW THEM YOUR BEST FUCKIN' HAZARDS! WREEEECK THEEEEM!"

________

~~Draconua~~ The Audience has been called upon to present arena hazards! Magic hazards may be attempted in rolls, and objects may be thrown into the ring, and so forth. Galleon and One must now double-post each round: one roll to continue the fight and then a second roll to avoid the collective (!) hazards. The first to be struck by the hazards before fight's end will be returned to their chrysalis or killed by it, and loses. (Should both fail to dodge, the lower roll will be struck by any hazard(s) they choose, and eliminated.)

Please wait for at least two audience hazards to be posted.

@Draconua (she's allowed, too.)

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. Sure, the whole sand-shark concept was cool at first, because how could it possibly not? But... it was just turning into a wild wrestling match. It could barely even hear the bones crunching from this far away, and it just looked like a spotted speck was jumping back and forth and screaming sometimes. No blood. No fun.

So Bedlam grinned widely when Nemean called for the audience to present a hazard. Finally, time to spice things up a bit! It leaned forward, green claws clutching at a half-eaten cornfishdog and focusing on the ring intently. There was the potential for powerful magic resting in its gut. It was convinced of this--after all, it'd succeeded once already. (Never mind the mottled green bruise on its throat-eye, which was by now nastily swollen.)

...

Nothing was happening. WHY? Its toes bleached to pale seafoam as it clenched the cornfishdog harder, as if anger would somehow help its magic. And when there was still nothing and the fifteen seconds were almost up, it gave up and tossed its snack into the ring. A lumpy stick not being the most aerodynamic shape, it thumped into the sand rather harmlessly. The catwhale beat a frustrated paw against the seat in front of it, fiercely regretting the waste of its food.

Vedette was foaming at the mouth, shivering and shaking before she let out a wild whoop of joy at Nemean's cry to the audience. FINALLY. CHAOS! DESTRUCTION! HELLFIRE!!!

"Yesss... YES! YEEEEES!!!", she screamed as her magic took effect, oil dripping from her nose as darkness spread across the arena slowly like a cloud of void, her laughter maniacal as she waited for her beautiful darkness to envelope the contestants and blind them.

"FUCK YOU IN PARTICULAR!", she snarled at One, "PIDDLY LITTLE SHIT-STICK!!"

She had no real reason to insult, only that she'd glanced over at One first and happened to see them. And if she saw someone, well, she had to insult them.

Man, all these fight had been BRUTAL.

Bug wasn't around others enough to be desensitized to this shit. Luckily, she was half cat and half dragon, so she was limited to some horrified shock at the gore and screaming and death, instead of complete and traumatized devastation.

And thankfully (sort of?) some part of her predatory instincts still supplied interest. Mischief, mayhem, a little bit of bloodlust--she wasn't normally the outright malicious sort. Well, she was, but not in a deadly way! Her tricks consisted of spooky whispers around corners and things flying across rooms, not bloody, bone-shattering murder.

But when in Rome, and all that...

Nemean was calling for a hazard. The crowd was going wild. Bug let herself get swept up in it, impishness sparking in her fiery eyes. Okay, then. They want a hazard? I can give them that... uh, probably. She wasn't super well-versed in magic, but she could come up with something, surely. Nothing like the earthen eruptions or black lightning of Draconua, but something more... Bug-styled.

Okay, what've we got..? she thought, looking around. She could see a few little booths and carts--the concession cart nearest to her was a small thing, on wheels, maybe a few feet long and tall. It had corn dogs in a bucket, and popcorn (likewise in buckets) and cold sweet drinks on ice. And alcohol, of course--a ton of booze. (She didn't really get it.) Meat scraps, and-... What should I throw? she thought, pondering.

The answer hit her a moment later, and a feline grin twisted her face. All of it!

The entire cart lifted up--launched through the air--and careened toward the fighters. And this was exactly bug's own brand of Chaos, for it spun like a water wheel as it went, with a beautiful display of corn dogs, popcorn, drinks and meat cascading down like edible confetti the whole way overhead.

"DODGE THAT!" she yowled, hoping she'd hit something in the rapidly-encroaching dark.

Cerilaine had been hovering around for a bit, quietly watching like the polite feline she was. It wasn't her place to really get involved, and nobody had come after her for not participating (yet). So why not have her fun, watching monsters and poor creatures alike tear each other to bits?

She would have to admit, there were a few rather boring fights. Some, too, didn't last long enough- more often than not, the big beast Draconua had been called in to be the deciding factor, despite bleed-outs and slow kills. It was the tension that was the fun part! Sipping her blue drink (who's flavor was aptly named 'blue'), Cerilain sat back on the benches and propped one leg over the other, her tail flicking in annoyance.

The last match of this round, and it was boring as shit.

Of course it'd come down to another draw, one broken by some interference. This time, it was audience participation- well, that seemed intriguing. Hm. Cerilaine's eyes cast out over the others getting involved, hiding the glance with a loud slurp of the melted ice... Thing, in her paws. Hm. She could try something herself- but it'd be a lot to cast in one go, especially with an area this big.

Fish out of water? Not any longer.

Standing with her staff, Cerilaine stretched out her limbs and focused on coalescing the surrounding waters into the arena, a headache rising to her temples immediately. Her mouth felt dry. Water sweated out of her, but nothing came to the dry sands below.

Shame. Letting out a huff, the feline dropped back to her seat with a defeated flop, going straight for her drink again. She'd have to practice that one for later.

For now, time to resume watching the show.

Astatine had been utterly enraptured the second he stumbled upon this place. The LIGHTS! The SOUNDS! The ACTION! It was everything the little lizard was obsessed with, all in one super-sized package. He stood literally on the edge of his seat, cheering at the bloodshed below. Sure, it was a little gruesome at times, but everyone else was shouting, so it seemed to be okay.

Unluckily for him, he had arrived too late to actually participate. So he was limited to simply watching. Not that he was complaining. But when Nemean shouted for the audience to throw in their own hazards, he grinned. FINALLY he got to do SOMETHING!

So he decided to throw in the most hazardous thing he could think of- himself.

Unfortunately for him, throwing yourself into a 20-foot pit is generally never a good idea. Especially not when everyone else is throwing random junk and magical chaos into said pit. His screaming war-cry turned into genuine panic as he realized Oh. This is a really deep drop. He splatted against the floor of the arena like a fly against a windshield. Someone may be able to catch a glimpse of bright green crystal spreading across his pancake'd form before the magical darkness fully spread across the arena.

Exit via chrysalis

Excited energy rode high in the arena, sparking electric. Magic and concession stands were hurled, voices howled and bailed out their curses. Draconua propped herself up at the edge of the stands, sputtering a roar of pure, almost innocent delight. (Of course, don't forget who the Sleepless Chaos is.)

The audience's inclusion did little to exclude her, and so she merely added to the pileup of hazards with one of her own. If the sandbound beast relied on the ground for safety and movement, then her (quite literally) earth-shattering roar would quash hopes of that. Draconua thumped her tail against the ground as she reared up; a bellowed scream matched the pounding of her foreclaws on the stone.

Beneath the sand of the arena, the ground shifted, opening the window for pitfall traps and fissures to stumble into.

Galleon landed back in the sand with the weight of a truck, sinking halfway. But not before she heard One's shriek of pain. She raised her head, and though she had no eyelids, it was clear she would be flinching if she could. Her mouth opened, and what would have probably been an apology must've come out. But Galleon's timing was poor.

Nemean had announced sudden death. And that was enough to make the already deafening stands erupted into a endless, earshattering roar. The world had gone black, not even the lights of her eyes piercing it. Galleon said something else, forever unheard beneath under the din of shouts and cheers. Galleon felt guilt going after her already wounded opponent. But Galleon also wanted to end this quick.

She tried to pinpoint where she had last seen One, and growled. It was impossible to tell in the dark. Galleon wasn't even sure what direction was north at this point, but she picked a direction, and charged. Intent to knock One over, rather than cause any more serious damage. If One was lucky, One would hear the rumble of the sand. Evidence enough that she was searching. As soon as she felt One's presence near, she would bark a: "give in!"

ROUND 6/?

91%

ATTEMPT: knock one over?
DEFENSE: sand shark
INJURIES: owie under jaw :(

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