[DEATHMATCH] Maximus x Melinoe

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas laughed, grimly--not at all actually with mirth--at Nemean's whisper. "You do not have to deal with her destroying your work. Though maybe you would appreciate her intervention," he snorted.

A shake of his head, and he turned his attention back to the fight. Crackling void lightning was arcing across the arena, spearing and searing the sand here and there--and the two tawny beasts on the arena floor were separated by the sudden onslaught.

Blood left behind. Dust pluming up, cascading skyward to hide the gore beneath. A gemstone, spreading-... Wait. What had Maximus just said-?

Vargas stared, dumbstruck. Had the fool just mocked Draconua? He hesitated--he couldn't quite tell its tone, but... it had certainly seemed that way. He glanced to her, half-alarmed, but not so alarmed that he actually intervened.

He had done so far too many times. Consequences existed for a reason: to weed out the foolish, and to teach the survivors. He'd see which Maximus turned out to be--this time.

A shame about the other one, though, he thought, looking somewhat glumly down at Melinoe's spreading chrysalis. He'd liked that one. It'd had fire. And it was a cat.

A giant cat.

DEATHMATCH

Now THERE was some fire! If she could wake up to the smell of fur burning every morning, Nemean would in a heartbeat. Her fists beat at the air in time with her eager cries for "CHRYSALIS! CHRYSALIS! CHRYSALIS!" Someone (Vakornol) would drag that bad boy off before it could root in the middle of the arena and be a big, ugly eyesore, of course, but for now... the Master was ecstatic! "FUCK YES!!!"

"WELL, THERE'S OUR WINNER FOR THIS MATCH, FOLKS!" What appeared to be a badly-rendered 3D mugshot of Maximus replaced the letters spinning through the air, somehow rotating perfectly in sync with the swelling chorus of guitars and bass. "MAAAAAAXIMUS! THE MIGHTY!" (The latter was added in as an afterthought, because it was a one-word title and she barely even skimmed her own notes, okay—)

And then, of course, Hell broke loose.

As Draconua prepared to jump into the ring, Nemean offered a sharp-toothed grin and a thumbs-up. The music cut abruptly as the Valkhound roared, and climbed into a dramatic orchestral sting. "AND WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT EVERYBODY?" the air shrieked, "DRAMA IN THE RING! A LITTLE LAST HURRAH FROM OUR WINNER AND THE BIG UGLY! KEEP YOUR EYES PEELED FOR THE CONCLUSION OF AAAAALL THIS!"

Aaand there was the DEATHMATCH! soundtrack again. It wasn't the Valkhound's turn yet, but who was Nemean to turn down a little extra SPICE?

_____________

DEATHMATCH! WINNER: MAXIMUS!

Character: Maximus
Age: +5 (12 Cycles - Capped)
Magic Level: +5 (Transcendent Pupil)

ROUND 1
Attempt: -
Penalties: -

ROUND 2
Attempt: +18
Penalties: -

ROUND 3
Attempt: +17
Penalties: -

ROUND 4
Attempt: +11
Penalties: -

ROUND 5
Attempt: -
Penalties: -

Total: 56

Character: Melinoe
Age: +5 (10 Cycles - Capped)
Magic Level: +1 (Fledgling)

ROUND 1
Attempt: -
Penalties: -

ROUND 2
Attempt: +17
Penalties: -

ROUND 3
Attempt: +16
Penalties: - (See Note)

ROUND 4
Attempt: +11
Penalties: -

ROUND 5
Attempt: -
Penalties: -

Total: 45

WINNER: Maximus

Note for Melinoe: Careful with phrasing! Round 3's attempt read (to me, at least) as two major actions: a "body slam"-like attempt and then the bite attempt. I didn't deduct points because: a.) being attacked by a lion in such a way would probably result in you falling over; and, b.) Maximus had the advantage regardless.

Maximus looked on in horror as Draconua descended into the ring, a hand raising to close over their big, stupid mouth. Of course with their new quiet mind and a lack of having to focus on it all the time brought a lack of filter, but that was no excuse for this bout of stupidity.

Vargas didn't move, nobody did. They were all alone in this, and wherever Khavur was, there was little possibility of aid if they weren't immediately present.

As the ground cracked beneath them, they realized they had to get out of this situation... and fast.

They lunged out of the way and rolled again, skidding to a stop on their side. Their heart pounded so loud they swore everyone in the ring could hear it, their limbs shaky with adrenaline. Up they got as quickly as they could, backing away from the falling ground before their hesitation made their effort to get away useless. Their eyes darted all around, looking for aid or a way to escape as unscathed as they could.

’I'm so screwed,’ they thought, looking up at Draconua, ’This is it. My execution.’

Maximus looked on in horror as massive red wings spread from Draconua's back, stretching further and further, her shadow writhing with the swirling texture of her wings. It was like something out of a Stephen King novel, but ten times worse.

"... I'm not going to die here," they said softly, clutching their spear before turning to run.

Pain shot through their chest and down their back instead, a choked noise leaving their mouth as they keeled over and fell, their back muscles twitching with an awful cramp as magic tried and failed to sprout wings. They gasped into the sand and felt cold fear flood their body, freezing them in place.

"I-I won!", they shouted, "CALL HER OFF, DAMN IT!! I WON!!"

The lion was chrysalized, they were the winner!

’I'm gonna die. She's gonna kill me,’ they thought, arms trembling as they turned to face their doom, eyes wide with terror.

’Gods help me...’

- THE LEVIATHAN -

It had won, and then it had taunted Draconua! How had it expected that to go?!

Vargas knew how he expected it to go: about how it was going, with Maximus fleeing and bawling for help (as usual) and Draconua giving ferocious chase (gee, this felt familiar).

"YOU DO SOMETHING STUPID AND THEN CALL FOR HELP, INSTEAD OF DEALING WITH IT YOURSELF! PERHAPS IF YOU TRIED APOLOGIZING-" but honestly, he couldn't finish that sentence. He had to stop to stifle laughter, because Draconua, stopping to accept an apology?

It wasn't going to happen. Still, he sighed, and he debated actually calling out. Probably too slowly, though--he really was sick of having to pull Draconua back after Maximus did something remarkably dumb and provoking. Maybe one day, it would learn that its words and actions actually had consequences. And... stop doing those things entirely.

Nemean, luckily for Maximus, was a little nicer.

Or well... lazier. She didn't want to deal with uneven brackets and, right now, it looked like the brackets might indeed end unevenly. "Ugh. FINE!" she railed, and snapped her tiny fingers.

It was a Master's command--one to pull Draconua back, to restrain her from her violence.

Nemean whistled, two short bursts. "C'MERE, GIRL! C'MON! Don't worry, you sweet sweet thing," she crooned, zipping out over the arena with a buzz, her voice loudly reassuring. "I know, I know, you'll get to wreak more havoc soon enough."

Then she glanced at Maximus--hoping this would give it the time it needed to get out of the arena. "Go heal up, but don't go too far--I need you for the next round, MIGHTY MAXIMUS!" A cheer, another brief burst of confetti, and Nemean moved to lead Draconua back into the stands.