Khavur could scarcely feel the vine now grasping its horn, but it had heard the approach. Blurry vision on the left-horned head allowed it to get the sense that, indeed, she had sent a vine out for it. Her scream told Khavur that this was just about over, that one way or another Khavur was in control of this situation, and it would not get beaten by an overzealous pre-teen.

Still, it couldn't decide if it wanted to see what she would do if she fell. There was no way of getting around it -- she would have to fall. But would she catch herself, or would Khavur have to do it? Would Khavur have to use its venom...?

The next move was evident: Khavur would attempt to lean its small-horned head over and snap the vine on the ram horn with its jaws. This attempt could throw Khavur off balance, resulting in a tailspin, perhaps a few barrel rolls!, which Khavur would have to direct towards the ground. This was likely to be a crash landing. Hopefully the audience would find that entertaining enough.

ROUND 4/5

81%

ATTEMPT: snap the vine
DEFENSE: armored plating, otherwise thick hide, uhhh
INJURIES: one set of eyes temporarily out of commission, injured pride, beclimbed

@Pollen

"HAHAHAHA!"

The shrill laughter was impossibly loud, echoing throughout the arena, drowning out even the blast of metal music.

"ANYWAY THIS'S GONE ON TOO LONG! AND YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS, FOLKS--IIIIIT'S TIME FOOOOOR-"

"-HYPER MEGA DEATH ZONE MODE!!!"

Somehow, a deep and reverberating bellow could be felt beneath Nemean's scream--like a thundrous monster was echoing her words through the very fabric of Orion.

Nemean turned, grinning wickedly, to Draconua at her shoulder. "Take it away, beastie!!!" she said--and flew up, spinning out of the way of any... collateral damage.

________

Draconua has been called upon to present an arena hazard! The magic attempt will be considered a success, and the roll will indicate the severity of the hazard. Khavur and Pollen must now double-post each round: one roll to continue the fight and then a second roll to avoid the hazard. The first to be struck by the hazard 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 and eliminated.)

Please wait for Draconua to post.

@Draconua

There's the cue!

Draconua crashed down the aisles, peeling past Nemean's retreating form in a flurry of vehement purple sparks. Deep within their sockets, black eyes were bulging out of their sockets with excitement that'd been riding higher and higher with every passing minute. Blood or no blood, the pit's energy was unlike anything she'd ever felt before (and that was including the five thousand years of interplanetary conquest.)

She stopped inches away from the edge of the stands, lurching briefly over it and the rest of the arena. Bricks gave way beneath hooked claws, and she spread her wings wide to keep her balance. A bellowing roar—free of rattling wheezes, this was from her stomach—prefaced the stream of fire erupting from her maw.

The purple flames arrowed straight to the ground surrounding the combatants. They devoured the sand, taking eagerly to the mix of blood and Oil, and spread erratically in with a muffled roar. Bare, safe patches lay here and there, but it was a matter of getting to them that made this the Hyper Mega Death Zone Mode.

@Pollen

The following is audible throughout all of Orion:

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! BURN 'EM, BESTIE!"

As Pollen struggled to maintain her grip, Khavur's other head came into frame, cutting way too close to her. A sharp yip, and one of the muta's arms broke free from her grip, the vine cut loose from their horn. Not good- she could feel herself sliding and jostling all over, and she snapped her arm back up to wrap her whole body around that one horn.

She wouldn't be thrown off so easily! Except- Nemean's voice rang out, and Pollen's head whipped to the side, giving her a bout of vertigo just as Khavur began to spin. With so much going on, she barely realized that Draconua herself had joined the fray.

But she couldn't miss that blast of flame if she tried to.

ROUND 5/5

100%

ATTEMPT: hang on for dear life
DEFENSE: does khavur count as a defense
INJURIES: lost one vine whip but otherwise we're good

Pollen's grip kept slipping. At this point, it was so likely she'd be monster chow- for Khavur, or for Draconua? Either way, she had to act fast, and the ground was so close. A leap of faith, then, and she leapt off from her perch, rolling into the sand as Draconua raised above the walls.

The only warning they got was the rising roar of flame, and suddenly everything was consumed.

Pollen screamed.

Twisting, she struggled to run back to Khavur, aiming to hide around the beast- but the cold flames had already caught on her flesh and began their own process of deconstruction, catching and thriving on the plants covering her body.

"TAP OUT! PLEASETAPOUTTAPOUT SHE'LL KILL US-" she screamed out the demand, paws uselessly flailing for the cherry monster she was just battling.

@Khavur

The clicking of heels was barely audible underneath the sound of the Deathmatch-- of Nemean's music and shrieking, of Draconua's roaring and the fire.

Late? No. Aethril was never late; the match had simply started early.

Pale eyes scanned the audience, lingering briefly on Vargas, but the Hand's attention was soon drifting to the ring; where chilling flames licked at her gardener who was on top of one of Vargas's creations.

Gardener. No. Aethril wouldn't have bothered to walk all this way for the sake of a gardener, the truth was that Pollen was so much more to her. Something close to a friend, perhaps. Pollen had a lot of potential; hell, Aethril almost considered her something as a protege.

And her protege, incidentally, was on fire.

Manicured nails gripped the edge of the coliseum, where the chill of the fire beat against her face, where only feet away, Aethril could have been scorched, too. "KILL IT, POLLEN!" The Valkhand bellowed, neat fangs flashing. "DON'T LET IT CRAWL OUT OF HERE ALIVE!"

Ahh. How she'd missed this.

The little green bean was hanging on all too well. Perhaps Khavur should have been grateful for the introduction of Draconua and the problem that solved for it, but... well, to put it frankly, no. Not happening. Exactly four people in these caves had the capacity to be grateful for Draconua: Vedette, Aethril (both of whom Khavur did not know about), Nemean (who had made the favoritism evident), and Draconua herself.

The Reaver would attempt to catch itself and lift up, back in the air, to avoid the bursting flames. It struggled not to wince at Pollen's terror or desperate suggestion; it did not have the choice nor the will to comply. Khavur... all that remained in Khavur now was a good lesson learned and a bad attitude.

Ah, but it was too late now. The floor too close, the fires closer. And how fitting was it that Khavur would be the one consumed by flames?

The dangers of burnout, folks.

- exit via chrysalis -

DEATHMATCH

"YYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!" Nemean screamed, pumping tiny fists into the air. "WREEEEEEEEECK THEEEEEM!" Who she meant was anybody's guess, but from the way she began pounding on the head of the golem she was perched on, she was into it. "DID YOU SEE THAT, CHADSWORTHINGTON STEVENSON THE THIRD?!" she cried, and now she broke into cheering, chanting-...

The music ramped up, thumping as though the cave had grown a heartbeat. Blood-scarlet confetti rained from the skies. The spotlights swept to and fro, to and fro, as the last of Draconua's black fire sizzled and faded away.

"ANNNND OUR WINNNNNER IIIIIS-" (a drumroll to shatter glass; a spotlight, igniting Pollen in a halo of golden light) "POLLLEN ROOOOOSE! THE GAAAARDEN KNIIIGHT!"

The cheering of a thousand nonexistent crowd members erupted in a hissing roar. Applause echoed from all sides, and Nemean continued: "YOU DID HILARIOUSLY, KHAVUR, REAVER OF THE DARK ABOVE--AND YOU SURVIVED! -HA! That's more than we can say for most here-... Better luck next time!"

The cheering and lights lingered, a moment, to give Pollen time to bask in her glory--and Khavur in their defeat--before they'd dim, indicating it was time to make room for the next...

...DEATHMATCH!


_____________

DEATHMATCH! WINNER: POLLEN!

Character: Pollen Age: + (3 Cycles) Magic Level: +5 (Transcendent Pupil) ROUND 1 Attempt: +19 Penalties: - ROUND 2 Attempt: +20 Penalties: - ROUND 3 Attempt: +18 Penalties: - ROUND 4 Attempt: +13 Penalties: - ROUND 5 Attempt: +16 Penalties: - Total: 94

Character: Khavur Age: +5 (12 Cycles - Capped) Magic Level: +3 (Brawler) ROUND 1 Attempt: +14 Penalties: - ROUND 2 Attempt: - Penalties: - ROUND 3 Attempt: +14 Penalties: - ROUND 4 Attempt: +6 Penalties: - ROUND 5 Attempt: - Penalties: - Total: 42

WINNER: Pollen

She may have won, but her plants were still on fire. Not a good look for the young protege. One solution: she threw herself to the sandy floor of the arena and rolled, the fire dampened by the time she finished becoming a chinchilla.

The spotlight flared on her as she laid on her back, arms to her sides as she breathed in deep breaths. She won? She inhaled sharply and sat up, pumping her fists in the air with a loud "WOOOOOO!" Khavur was there, too, and Pollen turned her head to them, a large grin on her face even through the soreness of fresh burns. "Good fight, Khavur!"

Granted, they didn't even touch her, only really snipping off that vine. Meanwhile Khavur's eyes were damaged, and she'd manage to scramble all over them and survive. How cool was that? Shuffling up, Pollen wiped off the dust from her body, laughing through her teeth.

Oh. Aethril! Pollen turned her body and booked it for the walls, slamming her paws against the stone with that grin plastered on her face. "Did you see me? I didn't get hit once! I'll come up- gimme a minute!" The muta jumped to slap the highest part of the wall she could reach. It was a promise, that she'd join Aethril up in the seats soon enough. Everything done- and lights dimming- Pollen raced for the doors she came out of, kicking up sand all along the way.

What a good fight!