Thumbs! Down!

"BOOOOOOOO!" Nemean roared from behind her hand, though a tittering laugh was bubbling in her chest. "IT'S BEEN TOO LONG SINCE WE SAW FIRST—LEMME HEAR IT FOLKS," and here she held a paw up to her ear, and the droning music spelled out, "BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD!"

An ominous red light shone down on the arena, outlining Edric and the Catawampus's forms in its bloody sheen. "THAT'S IT, EVERYBODY! WE'VE NOW ENTERED THEEEEE—"

"—MASS DESTRUCTION NIGHTMARE FRENZY MODE!!!"
Nemean exploded into howling laughter as she snapped her fingers in Draconua's vague direction, "PREPARE TO FACE YOUR DOOM, ONE OF YOU! BETTER RUN!" You could really hear the :D in her voice, and it was matched with a sharp-toothed, predatory grin. "Maybe scream and cry some too, that'd be great!"

And, of course, she jumped right back into the chanting: "BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD!"

________

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. The Catawampus and Edric 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.

Here comes an earthquake: Draconua took to her usual perch, though the bricks were quickly losing their integrity with how much she'd crashed onto them throughout the course of this day. Hussar wings flared out like a nightmarish cape. Teeth bared wide in a grinning snarl, and she let loose a bellowing roar.

And, to the tune of that horrible noise, her front half slammed down onto the stone lip. It split cleanly down the middle, and the hound nearly toppled into the arena.

The fracture darted down the wall as a whole, and lurched across the ground. Spiderweb cracks swelled into fissures at least a few feet deep, and shelves of horribly blackened rock lifted from the sand. Plenty of hazard to dodge, or... perhaps... shove unwitting opponents into. Nemean would love that sort of thing, wouldn't she—

@Catawampus

Back and forth the two fighters went. Aethril watched with the slightest of frowns; her attention mostly on the Catawampus (still a little unsure what it was supposed to be) and occasionally drifting to the boar it was fighting-- but Nemean was right, it'd been far too long since blood was spilled.

She didn't chant, but her head turned towards Draconua as she crashed into her perch and bellowed, and as the arena split and crackled, Aethril was leaning forward. Black rock rose, and a fissure dove its way into the cave floor. Aethril could see both target and intended destination from where she sat.

A breath. And His magic poured through her.

The tendril sprouted like a sleek, black sapling. It lifted a few inches upwards, and then curled itself in a half-circle close to Edric's hooves with the distinct intent of tripping him up and potentially sending him into The Pit when he tried to move away; or at the very least, it might send him barrelling into one of the stacked rocks.

You know. For entertainment.

@Edric (for visibility)

Honestly, not being able to understand the demands of its audience serves as a merciful sort of blessing for the Catawampus. It is a breed of mercy its grandparent had never known, and now... or soon never would. That cluelessness and instinct is the essence of the Catawampus. It was a trait passed down from Aleph to Balder and finally to the Catawampus through genes and genomes and whatnot. The ability to be... nothing! Nothing at all. And with each generation, they improve on that skill, perfecting its very definition.

Well, unlike those two, this nothing has something to undo. The boar rolls away -- the cat chases after it. This is about as exciting as watching the Discovery channel. Clearly Nemean will not be a fan, but hey! It really works for some people!

ROUND 5/?

84%

ATTEMPT: catch up to that boar
DEFENSE: big fuzzy :3
INJURIES: kick'd in the front (bruise / scrape) ): + b'slam'd (bruise / scrape / brief air loss )

But unfortunately for the Catawampus, this is not the right crowd. Not yet, anyways. Draconua is the opposite of the Discovery channel, and Aethril is off twisting the Catawampus's domain! All the unpredictability, the chaos, called for one thing only: adapt.

As the spikes erupt from the earth and its prey is in peril of getting slung into stone, the Catawampus once again focuses on itself and its environment. Keep up that feline agility buddy!

You may not expect this kind of speed from a cat this... well, cater-cornered. It's almost like intuition guides its paws! It's not a gory feat, but perhaps it can be considered exciting.

You know, this reminds me of another show. One where some guy said "speed of a cougar!" and suddenly he had the speed of a cougar. Might've been speed of an eagle and strength of a cougar. I don't know, I always thought it was silly since cougars aren't the fastest or the strongest cats. They're not even in the Panthera family! Why not ask for something better!! It was only 'til the show invaded my mind again that I realized the choice of species was regional, which is very cool. The show was done in the style of He-Man, I think it was by the same guy-- oh? What's that? This is a post, not a secret rambling channel?

Well okay then.

SPEED OF A CATAWAMPUS!!!

@Edric

There was one teensy little bitty thing that Vakornol had found herself being a little judgemental about in the DEATHMATCH!es, and that was Nemean's propensity for not waiting out a fight because of... well, entertainment value. As fun as it was to watch combatants run around to avoid catching tails and feathers on fire or getting slammed between grinding rocks, it was kind of a waste of good potential—like, right there... !

The Catawampus was putting pedal to the metal, and closing the distance between itself and the gnarly-looking boar she'd tussled with before, and had done quite the number, kitten-like as it was. Finger-snapping Draconua to attention was just wasting that climatic moment.

But, eh, who was she to judge? There was a schedule to keep and at some point all of these brand-spanking-new and furry things would want to go to bed instead of fighting. Vakornol half leaned back against the stands, slinging an arm outward to brace herself casually. Another churro down the hatch.

Maybe the Catawampus would catch the pig and he'd die. Or maybe the pig would turn around and gore it. Or they'd both eat it on jagged rocks and nightmares. Vakornol was watching with great interest regardless, crowing for "BLOOD!" at odd intervals and muttering in Vargas's direction every once in a while.

Y'know, like a good judge.

The magic that briefly roiled--the tentacle of chaos that swept up--earned Nemean's immediate ire.

Narrowed eyes swept the stands, and (though it wasn't clear how she did it) settled on Aethril. Ahh, fuck. A Valkhand?! Of all the people to break the rules-!

"HEY!" she shrieked, angry-faced, buzzing toward the Valkhand. "DID YOU MISS THE RULES!? NO MAGIC! I MEAN, IT'S FUCKING HILARIOUS BUT THIS IS A FIGHTING MATCH!" Tiny hands flailed, and she fumed. Any other creature she'd have ordered escorted from the arena, but Aethril's Valkhand status made this... awkward. Sure, they were both in Lord Dhracia's "coffee, tea and tea" gang, but that made it all the more insulting that Aethril was here, on her turf, breaking her rules!!

"IF YOU WANT YOUR OWN MAGIC DEATHMATCH DO IT LATER! OTHERWISE--OTHERWISE, DEATHMATCH IS CANCELLED!" That... was all she could really come up with.

She vanished in a puff of sparkling confetti, and reappeared at her former spot. "AND I'LL BE REALLY MAD!" she called back over, more loudly.

@Aethril

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. Was he really gonna keep running away from something the size of the kitten when he'd defeated a LION in the name of his Voices before? No, he wasn't. Not to mention that Nemean was already crowing her displeasure, and that never meant anything good for the combatants. (It was quality entertainment from the stands, though. He could admit that.)

So Edric would attempt to meet the Catawampus' charge head on, even speed-limping forward to add some momentum of his own. "RAAAAAWRRRR!!!" he growled, thrusting his head forward tusks first. He squeezed his eyes shut at the last minute, in case the Catawampus tried some funny business with those killing limbs. Not that it'd help if he got stabbed, but, y'know, the spirit was there.

ROUND 5/?

82%

ATTEMPT: stabby tusks
DEFENSE: pointy bits forward, eyes squeezed shut
INJURIES: clawed up knee, bruised hip, cut flank

But his tusks sliced into nothing but thin air. Edric bellowed with frustration, swinging his head back around to face the Catawampus. But it was already too late. Nemean's amplified, fiendish voice echoed through the ring, and a sudden spotlight cast everything in an ominous red glow.

Edric stumbled back from the suddenly shifting earth, luckily in the other direction from the curling tendril at his feet. He didn't even register its presence, so focused was he on not falling into the black fissures that had opened up just now. He managed, barely, to regain his balance in time. Back pressed to a gleaming black slab of stone that had risen above ground level, Edric stomped a hoof and returned his attention to the Catawampus.

Time to finish this, he thought, corrupted whispers running delightedly through his mind.

@Catawampus

Oh, this really was hysterical.

First thing to set the scene: the sweeping red lights, the shattering earth, the black lines cracking through the sand.

Second: the boar, with its tiny boar feet and its hilariously ridiculous boar voice (she sort of wanted one, now), like a tiny (comparatively!) battering ram barreling across the arena.

And third, the dessert, the encore: the malformed monster giving chase.

It was hilarious, because nobody was hitting anything--and no one was getting hit, and while normally this would be a frustrating, boring thing, right now it was just unrelenting chaos. A gore, missed. A growl and a charge, churning feet barely avoiding the crack of earth below. The fighters in a mad rush to avoid Draconua's onslaught--and to finish one another off. They had heart--she'd give 'em that.

She'd also give them some fucking clown music for their clown fiasco. "KEEP IT COMIN', DRACCY!" she cried--and lifted her hands like a conductor. The pencil she'd used to write on her clipboard raised into the air, poised dramatically: a tiny spotlight illuminated her brightly. And then... the pencil swept down, and the music began anew.

Carnival music, clowns' mockery, jaunty and jolting and arrhythmic, discordantly jarring. There was malicious humor in every note, and it eclipsed the prior heavy metal in a way that seemed to leave nothing else but laughter in its wake.

"OKAY, DRAC, GO GET 'EM!" Nemean cried.

This was getting good.

@Draconua