'AND NOW WE HAVE! THE FEARSOME! SAVAGE! TINY TERROR!-- PORKCHOP! WILL HE CHOP AND DEVOUR HIS OPPONENT'S PORK? OR BE DEVOOOOOOOOOOURED HIMSELLLLLLF?!!'

Porkchop squealed angrily, making as much screaming piglet noise as he could. No! He wouldn't be devoured by ANYBODY! He was sure the sheer volume alone would be quite terrifying, but his true self, CHARGING OUT THE DOORS on stubby piglet legs, would surely be scary enough to give his opponent a heart attack! Easy win!

Or... not so easy? Porkchop faltered and nearly stumbled as his opponent, a massive black cat with BIG FANGS, came out of his door. He probably weighed over half the cat's weight by now, but 1. that was still a big weight difference, and 2. Porkchop was a lot denser than Vicktor was.

But he couldn't lose momentum! That'd make it even harder to win! All he had to do was think about the rewards that awaited. POWER! GLORY!!! FOOD!!!!! That was enough to motivate any ambitious child lacking in foresight to fight a massive predator without fear! Porkchop charged forward at top speed, lowering his head and screaming at the top of his lungs. If he managed to get close enough, he'd toss his head upward in an attempt to get the cat with his sapphire tusks.

@Vicktor

ROUND 1/?

100%

ATTEMPT: charge Vicktor
DEFENSE: head lowered
INJURIES: not yet

Vicktor could hear his opponent's entrance...Porkchop? What kind of name was that- well he wouldn't judge them yet...But the name already had him feeling a wave of ill. Pork was often pigs, and he didn't have the best memories with them. His mind flickered to a boar from cycles ago, one he partially blamed for so much going wrong.

No. Now was not the time. Before he knew it, it was his turn, and he readied himself.

"AND NOW, THE SHADOW OF ILL FATED FORTUNE, THE OMEN HIMSELF!!! VICKTOOOOOR!!!"

He...didn't remember requesting that title but- perhaps an acquaintance did, maybe Kibou, the Peryton who was very excited to watch him fight today. It didn't matter, even if it left a bit of a bad taste in his mouth. It was time to begin.

Black smoke first began billowing out, thick like tar it stuck in the very air as he walked through it unseen. It felt like home, so similar to the room of Cetus that he hailed from. He let out a snarl, bellowing a roar of his own as he prowled out from the smoke only to land eyes upon- a piglet...He stopped in his tracks, it seemed planned but- really it wasn't.

What kind of cruel joke was this, someone let a child enroll into the deathmatch!? A pig he could handle, yes it'd be difficult given some things but he'd have an easier time with a full-grown boar...But a fucking chidl!? He couldn't kill a child- not again not after everything he had done. Everything he came to regret, he wasn't that monster anymore; how the fuck was he supposed to do this!?

Before he knew it the piglet had charged him, successfully goring him with a sapphire tusk. What kind of ill mannered child just attacked too!? He opened his mouth to bite, to clamp down on their skull and taste the ichor a part of him craved so deeply. But he couldn't, he simply couldn't. He was up against a child, there was nothing stating there would be children competing! What kind of backwater shady operation was this event!?

So he did nothing, lost in his own mind frozen on what to do. Trying to collect himself. He did not scream, he did not cry, he took the hit and stared at Porkchop.

He couldn't kill a child, not again.

Round: 1/5
Attempt: Bite Porkchop but alas he cant
Defense: Lots of teeth and claws
Injuries: Gored

"Clover Speech"
"Vicktor Speech"

@Porkchop

Juniper was on the edge of her seat, a tub of popcorn in front of her as she leaned over, eyes wide, ”Come on... GO DAD!! I BELIEVE IN YOU!!!”

She scarfed down popcorn and threw some she didn't chew down, the popped kernels showering down as she stood, tail wagging. She hoped Vicktor was okay with calling him dad...

Porkchop scream-squealed with triumph as his tusks struck true, piercing the black cat in the side. "YEAHHHHHHHH!" he yelled, tugging himself free and doing a little dance on his little piglet hooves. And then...

Nothing happened? Well, maybe his opponent was just too scared to fight now! Ha! He'd shown him! Porkchop pranced in a circle around Vicktor, squealing and doing a little victory dance. "I WIN! ~" he declared happily. Look at him! This little piglet just beat a massive predator several times his size! Where were his prizes and glory? --did he get more treats now?

@Vicktor

ROUND 2/?

100%

ATTEMPT: none
DEFENSE: vicktor's personal principles
INJURIES: hale and hearty

"UM, EX-CUUUSE ME?!"

[Heavy metal music stops.]
In a flash, Nemean was buzzing in front of the walking porkchop's face with her paws on her hips. "NUH-UH! Time out!"

She spun, fluttering toward the jaguar. "You're supposed to be kicking ass back! Ripping and tearing! Like my notes right here say!" And would you look at that, Nemean'd conjured up a sheet of paper with unintelligible scribbles on them. Sunny eyes squinted at them like a mom with a phone, and she harrumphed. "Yep, right here: Vicar (or whatever) will do Deathmatchly things because it's in the name and Nemean needs her ENTERTAINMENT."

At the last word, she threw the piece of paper on the floor and it disappeared in a puff of pink glitter. "Get that piece of meat! Run away! Do something! Or else I'm pulling the trigger for Big Fucking Monster over there." (Said monster, Draconua, was chest deep in a carcass.)

Nemean blitzed back to Chadsworthington, awaiting the big cat's decision with glinting yellow eyes and a sharp-toothed grin. Whatever he decided, it'd be great.

@Vicktor

Was it any coincidence that Aethril turned up to any Deathmatch featuring a cat? No, probably not.

But, Nemean wasn't the only one who needed entertainment.

Finely-manicured nails drew down Asher's spine as the little kit sat on her lap, watching the two with keen eyes; earth animals, a piglet and a jaguar. This won't take long, she had assured herself-- and yet... it was stalling, and Nemean herself was shrieking for it to hurry up and take the kill.

The Hand licked her teeth. "She should just send out Draconua," came her quiet criticism to Asher. Draconua sure as hell wasn't there to stand around and look pretty, was she?

It was immediately after this murmur that a new idea came to her mind, however, and Aethril felt herself leaning forward a little as her eyes honed in on the jaguar. A flicker of Chaos, maddeningly sweet, surged through her veins and forward.

Penetrating Viktor's mind was like sending a heated knife through butter; simple, easy, quick, and the will that it enforced onto every one of the jaguar's senses and nerves was equally as simple.

Fight for your life, it screamed. Kill it!

He would NOT fight a child, he knew better than this- he would only fight one to protect his own and Juniper was far from danger with Lavonia and the others. And even then, this was just for someone's entertainment- what kind of entertainment even was this!? Some sick twisted game to watch a child get slaughtered!? If they were an adult then he'd have no problems, but- a child they couldn't possibly understand!?

He could hear the crowd, questionable sounds, and the demand for blood. His ears flickering to the voice of Juniper who cheered him on, she had called him dad. So he stood there, a dilemma as the pig-boar? squealed with triumph as it pulled their tusks from his flank. He rumbled a low snarl in reaction, that all too familiar sting- so close and reminiscent of what a boar did to him so long ago. He was beginning to seethe, but he stood tall inhaling deeply, watching Porkchop parade around as if they had won-which he supposed they did. He was at this moment unable to carry on with the show. Out of jaws of a cat and into another's he was sure they would be tossed-

And then the music stopped, everything seemed to come to a standstill as Nemean herself flew over. She was upset from the sound of it, demanding he do something. Either fight, kill or simply run away. Or else she'd sic that monster upon the both of them. He narrowed his gaze, lip rising as the fairy blitzed back to their seat.

He glanced over at the piglet, staring with an unknown intensity as he fought off memories. Swallowing back the hot bile of anger as he watched them. Intestines churning as his blood dropped silently to the floor, adding to the already scarlet stained sand below. He was calming himself, about to yell his peace and leave- that was until something changed. He knew not the reason- but something ignited him.

It was sudden and white-hot, memories surging forth and splashing over the damn in his mind like a tsunami. His resistance began to crack and only crumbled allowing a torrential onslaught of emotions to soar and scream. Memories of a boar who had done the very same to him so long ago. One who gored him and ruined his life when he was but a cub. The anger from days long passed surged forth and he could feel a burning in his throat- only this time it was not sick or fire. It was hatred- a festering hunger to devour that who had done him wrong so long ago.

So he snapped, lunging at the piglet now. Aiming for the face, wanting to grab hold and never let go- he would eat them alive if he was given the chance. And he would try it now in this arena, in front of everyone.

He would fight for his life.

He would kill it.

Round: 2/5
Attempt: Go for the face, attempt to grab ANYTHING and hold on
Defense: Lots of teeth and claws
Injuries: Gored

"Clover Speech"
"Vicktor Speech"

@Porkchop

Porkchop's face slowly twisted itself into the stereotypical angry expression: >:( "NOT FAIR!" he tried, petulantly, to interrupt Nemean's complaints. "He's clearly surrendering--look! I got BLOOD! I WON!" In what world did he not win?? Look at Vicktor: he was just standing there, clearly too shell-shocked by the sheer power of Porkchop's attacks to defend himself!

He flinched at the threat of Big Death Machine Over There. That never went well for anyone involved in a fight. Maybe if he could gore Vicktor a few more times she wouldn't need to get involved--NOPE, Vicktor was about to take things into his own hands! Claws. Or teeth, more accurately, as his massive fangs snapped straight for the piglet's face.

Porkchop lurched backward, but it was not quick enough. Piglet skin was no match for big cat fangs, which became very painfully evident as Vicktor latched on to his face. Porkchop screamed with terror, thrashing (literally) blindly, but each movement seemed to make the fangs tear worse into his face. Blood streamed into his eyes, one of which was partially inside Vicktor's jaws, and into his mouth.

Suddenly, Porkchop didn't feel so powerful anymore.

@Vicktor

ROUND 3/?

i feel like this damage cannot be expressed with numbers%

ATTEMPT: gtfo of here
DEFENSE: eek running away
INJURIES: big cat attached to face

Vicktor's jaws hit true, teeth sinking into the piglet's flesh as he grabbed hold of their face. Like a hot knife through butter he found his grip. Each thrash, each lurch, and scream only egged him on towards his goal. Teeth sinking further and further into their face. He seethed, exhaling sharply as the pig's blood bubbled up and out of his mouth. It was metallic and strong, intoxicating really- it had been so long since he tasted another gembound's blood. Stronger than a lessers, and so familiar to that boar so long ago.

He swallowed.

Damn near drinking it down he wanted more, for both the taste and to end this pig's incessant shrieking. He was to survive, he was to kill it-something inside demanded it so, a primeval need. And now Porkchop was trying to run, and evidently failing at it. Vicktor though only kept them gripped in his jaws, as if savoring the flavor of this event now. With each beat of Porkchop's heart and thrash to escape, he knew it would only draw more blood out and into his mouth. More of that sweet blood that sang to him so loudly.

Just like old times.

Round: 3/5
Attempt: Bite harder!
Defense: Lots of teeth and claws
Injuries: Gored

"Clover Speech"
"Vicktor Speech"

@Porkchop

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

gore

Porkchop couldn't tell which streams of liquid running down his face were blood and which were tears. It didn't matter anyway; he was screwed no matter what. Nemean's bloodthirsty cheers and the roar of the crowd seemed to fade into the background. There was only his squealing screams, and Vicktor's fangs tearing ever deeper into his flesh. Skin, fat, and muscle ripping apart--no piglet's soft tissues were a match for the jaws of a predator like this. They would only stop if they met bone, and maybe not even then.

But Porkchop seemed to get a lucky break for now. He wasn't dead yet, for one, although he wasn't aware enough to count his blessings on that one. He wasn't even aware that his throat felt like it was torn apart from so much screaming. His mind was having a hard enough time swimming through the haze of pain and blood loss, as anyone's might, and the jaguar's jaws locked around his face was a much bigger concern

The pressure had stopped increasing, at least, and Porkchop took the opportunity to intensify the flailing kicks. He was too afraid to jerk his head from side to side, even if letting Vicktor hold onto it probably meant death either way. But he lashed out wildly with his hooves, desperately hoping to score a hit somewhere. The shoulder? His head? Maybe he'd get lucky and hit an eye. Maybe the jaguar would finally let go then.

@Vicktor
Round 4
Attempt: kick Vicktor
Defense: kicking
Injuries: face getting bitten off