flesh of malice, black of bone; blood of oil, heart of stone

      VIOLENCE!

"... proven to me that you are WORTHY!" Eeny...

      VIOLENCE!       "... fickle nature..."

... meeny...   "... such a brutal display..."       ... miny—     "... and thank you all for your participation!"

            YOU, OVERSEER TECTUS...!

The Sleepless Chaos lunges from her self-made Spire, jaws split fully asunder, every Oil-stained tooth bared up to the gums— and she has little time to ruminate on how helpful that watchful eye that Tectus has been keeping on her will prove to be; only enough time to condense that twitching Chaos in her gullet into a guttural, nigh-incoherently wretched scream before connection (or none) is made:

      "I WANT VIOLENCE!"

beast, valkhound, violence-prone! oilstone! oilstone! d r a c o n u a

ROUND 1/5?

100%

ATTEMPT: Lunging at Tectus.
DEFENSE: None whatosever.
INJURIES: None yet.

@Tectus and also everyone else in this thread, if they want to intervene at all.

He had remained quiet, narrowing his eyes as he watched everything. Something was wrong, very wrong, and he tensed as Draconua lunged towards Tectus. Now he had absolutely no stakes in this, but he couldn't just watch this without helping.

And so, as they lunged forward, he would try to shoot a spit of fire at Draconua, rushing forward slightly to keep up with them but still keeping his body off to the side. He was just here to try and help from the side. He knew better than to get between two large creatures like that. Now is not the time or place! He growled out to them, though he doubted they would actually listen to them him.

He kept his head down as he watched them, keeping himself prepared if the creature turned to him instead.

ROUND 1/5

100%

ATTEMPT: shoot fireball at Draconua
DEFENSE: staying to the side, keeping head down to protect throat
INJURIES: none

@Tectus @Draconua

As it turned out, like so many things in his life, even a contest to demonstrate the depths of honed magical talents couldn't result in a simple but satisfying end. Back within the persistent crush of the audience and away from the center of their attention, the iguana had watched the following competitors, hopeful his talent would be recognized. He'd also prepared for potential disappointment, should anyone erase the memory of his showing with one far outstripping the spectacle he'd crafted. Not once, however, had he anticipated the emotional whiplash the proceeding events subjected him to. Full credit for that had to be given to the raving monstrosity that'd closed the performances and seemed intent on veering from friendly competition, catapulting herself straight into wanton violence.

Tectus' acknowledgement and the title of ultimate victor had brought a pleased curve to Fahl's lips. Despite the pain gripping his throat anytime he spoke, it'd appeared worth the effort to endure and express wholehearted intentions to enter combat instead of coming across as aloof in his success. Therefore, upon hearing the judge's closing statement, his jaw had fallen in anticipation of making these desires clear. That agape mouth formed into an o of horror once he processed the release of claws on Oil-weeping stone and the gigantic shape hurtling from it. Scales rippled into alarmed hues of orange and yellow, and stark white bled between the colorful blotches blooming upon his hide.

Coherent thought was impossible amongst the haze of cusses flying through his mind. There was no plan of action to seize upon, only the urge to push back screeching danger. Most of his spells more offensive than not, desperate reaches for a proper defense mainly resulted in his inner flame twisting away from claws, elusive in the face of demands it couldn't fulfill well. Fahl sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, plunged a mental grasp once more into a chest ablaze with panic, and seized it at last.

That tight grip didn't remain for long. The flame seared its captor, and a hiss heralded the release of his magic. As always, weakness would not be tolerated or obeyed; in this very moment, the terrified spellcaster exemplified the quality to a concerning degree.

Wilder was inanimate for a time after the "wish" ended. But it wasn't a wish, was it? It had failed. The magic failed. Why? It wasn't that she had lost her grip on it or it had abandoned her now - the visions, the power that turned her mind here and there, showing her bits and pieces, Natrium the wolf whose words had already been washed from her mind - was still real and present, reacting. Feedback? A backfire? Was it because it was not possible, because Draconua was so far gone? Or because she was not wrong?

Wilder wanted to scream because it couldn't be right. Draconua was wrong, they were not all violence, there was more to life then the Chaos that pulsed through her veins! But perhaps for Draconua, there truly was nothing else. She was not wrong there - she was nothing but corruption and chaos down down into her very heart. Her...Valkheart?

The cat gripped the ground and shuddered, humbled, cracks in her worldview once again spider-webbing across her mind. She thought she had it all figured out, but still she was getting things wrong, over and over and over again. She thought she understood Hume in all of her words, but her own biases were still getting in the way.

She could not love Order because she had suffered under them. She could not love Chaos because so many others had suffered under them. But Hume loved all of them, she cherished them as Wilder could not cherish them, and she-

She did not have time to think about this right now.

Draconua was moving and attacking and even though Wilder had a new understanding of things, she still would not allow spectators to be harmed and a hound of Chaos to rampage across Polaris during a time of peace.

Her eyes slid into focus and she suddenly looked up sharply at the valkhound, fur standing on end as her magic lashed out and latched to her, trying to pull her back from Tectus. To lighten the blow or stop it altogether and drag her back, away and back towards her accursed spire in the middle of the makeshift stadium.

She would not let anyone get harmed.

She knew it was coming. She dearly hoped that it wouldn't happen, but she knew it would. The valkhound was too tense, too wound-up, too obviously preparing to strike. When she lunged, Tectus was swiveling her head around, preparing to meet her in combat, but the dragon was already slowing. She didn't see the source, most likely someone in the audience, but it was appreciated. Perhaps the moth had at last learned more practical combat spells.

She lunged forward herself and struck out - she wasn't sure exactly where Draconua's Oilstone was, but a swift strike to the head, perhaps, would have a similar effect. Stop her from concentrating on any magic she would be attempting to do in the very near future (even if she took a bite from the Sleepless Chaos in the process). "Not HERE." she snarled, leaning forward, instead of stepping away. "You will have what you seek but now is not the time!" Her teeth ground in her skull, wishing she could promise Draconua more violence, more chaos, when, where, and how, because Tectus was not a fool. She was valuable, she could be set off her leash to beautiful effect, but who knew who was listening here. "Control yourself. I am NOT your enemy."

ROUND 1/?

100%

ATTEMPT: kick to the oilstone (wherever it is)
DEFENSE: natural defences
INJURIES: none

@Draconua