"Ah, yeah, the whole... debacle with your one Overseer. I forget," Vakornol nodded solemnly, though she was casually dismissing it because that overly Deathmatch!-appropriate chatter. Less about how untrained the milksops are, more about the bloody horror. She shrugged halfheartedly, fumbling around for an unattended bowl of popcorn. "At least you'll have a real good measure of its abilities after this, if it manages to survive—ah-hah!"

A handful of popcorn tossed into her mouth. Buttery, salty, fatty success.

"I don't have a clue what a cat is, bud," came her voice from around a mouthful of well-earned snack, "unless that's slang you came up with for all the fuzzy things. Not nearly diminutive enough for 'em—Oh-oh!"

Some popcorn went down the wrong pipe as the hound gasped, and her flanks seized with a spasming cough. Crawling to the edge of her seat, she wheezed, "oh, holy shit! Way to escalate!" Was the daft humanoid crying and strangulating its opponent? What a bold new strategy!

"BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD!" She roared, then, and immediately started to choke on her food again.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas glanced at Vakornol sidelong. "They are copies, I think, of a kind of hunter! They are all similar in design," he went on, and it was loud and enthusiastic but yes, still idle chitchat, as he looked down on the fight. Eyes narrowed as the two tangled. Someone called for Selenite-One to try to get its fingers back, and Vargas bellowed down: "CHOKE IT ON WHAT IT BIT OFF!" Just jam the severed fingers down its throat.

"Anyway, they are all extremely apt regardless of size. Natural predators. Have you noticed how many have been in this Deathmatch?" He grinned down at the blood-sullied ring. "The ones that are furred, somewhat round-skulled, round-eared, long tailed, four-limbed? Retractable claws, shining eyes? This is, I think, the fifth, in one match. I'm trying to make good use of them." Granted, most of them had lost, but that was a failing of their training rather than their form.

He sat back, a bit, eyeing them both over. The snow leopard was a particularly beautiful creature, really. Cold-adapted? he thought, ignoring or not noticing his poor protege crying as it struggled. I could take Ursa with a few of those, I bet. Then--and only then--did he notice Selenite-One's fight. "THE PAIN WILL PASS!" he advised; "VICTORY IS WHAT REMAINS!"

Vargas-style encouragement, really.

@Vakornol for idle chatter

Oh, man, this was good. And was that one fucking crying? Hahahaha!

"KIIIILLLL 'EMMM DRACONUAAAAA!" Nemean screamed, an explosion of fireworks bursting out from behind her to cascade around the Arena in shimmering embers.

From the stands, the stiffly upright form of the Collector cupped hairy hands to his hood and called out: "PERHAPS A REQUEST, MY DEAR-? THE FIRE AGAIN? IT IS SUCH A LOVELY SHADE OF ARMAGEDDON," he called, and Nemean grinned wickedly.

"FUCK YEAH, DRACCY!! BURN 'EM UP!" Request put in; whether the Sleepless Chaos would follow it--and what it might do to the poor combatants--remained to be seen.

@Draconua
glhf

There was nothing dear about a monster currently simmering in her own vague misgivings and frustration as neither combatant moved away from the assault, or truly paid any mind to it. Of course, one was incapacitated by the other, and the other was sobbing into his chest.

It was a good request, in any case. Her entropic fire was far less forgiving as far as targeting.

A wheezing roar, and a gout of fire blitzed through the air to meet the combatants. The ground charred black where it came short, and purple flashes reflected in the pools of blood.

@Aspen

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

gore

violence

honestly just assume those apply for the entire rest of this thread
The roars of the audience had long since faded into the background of eardrums ringing from void-thunder and blood loss. Nor did Aspen respond to the Selenite's weeping and pleading. He couldn't have, even if he'd heard--its vice grip on his throat was only tightening, fishhook claws tearing into the leopard's soft throat, squeezing squeezing squeezing even as bright arterial blood spurted around them.

Windpipe squeezed shut, all Aspen could do was eke out a reedy, high-pitched whine. His chest spasmed as he tried again and again to gasp for precious oxygen, only to be choked off by the Selenite's death grip. Where before his vision was colors and images blurred with neon and red, now it was going patchy and grainy, black eating away at every corner.

Then there was a pressure on his chest, vibrations shuddering through his ribs as the Selenite cried. Panicked, dying, and with nothing left but fear and adrenaline, all Aspen knew to do was attack. He tried to crane his neck and bite for where those long, fragile ears should be, to lash out with claws at the Selenite's face, but the former did nothing but let the claws tear deeper into his throat. The latter became only weak flops of his paws, the muscles powerless with neither oxygen nor blood to fuel them.

ROUND 6/?

33%

ATTEMPT: let go let go let go
DEFENSE: aaaaaaa
INJURIES: strangulation, mauled throat, gouged eyes, blown eardrums

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

death

Draconua's flames came as not a singular straw but a metric truckful of haystacks, but the metaphorical camel's back was already broken. There was simply not enough air or blood reaching Aspen's brain in the end, and he flopped limp in Selenite's grip. Unconscious bodies don't escape fires. The amber on his forehead did not even have time to spread before the jet of void-black fire struck, filling the ring with the stench of scorched hair and burning flesh and leaving nothing but charred bones in its wake.

There were no screams from the snow leopard, not even a final gasp of pain. Only the quiet thump of an amber teardrop as it fell onto the blood-soaked sand.

@V-Selenite-One :tada: congrats on baby's first murder! even if draconua did try to hog the glory in the end...

Selenite could not have possibly heard the feline's whine, both from the whipcrack of thunder and its own muffled static of a conscience. But, it could feel it. The rabbit-quick beat of a heart starved and desperate. The stuttering of a chest with nothing to fill its lungs. The gurgle of blood and saliva foaming at the corners of a gasping jaw. Its ear was pressed against Aspen's chest, and it felt it all.

It wept horribly for the feeling of its own claws continuing to hold fast.

ROUND 6/6

45%

ATTEMPT: Useless attempt to keep strangling for the sake of even rounds--
DEFENSE: Waa
INJURIES: Bitten on inner elbow, (basically) missing four fingers on upper right hand, blinded eye, scratched-up face, some quills dislodged from neck, clawmarks along entire body, The Works

It wept horribly, and it gagged on its own tears.

For what an unfamiliar feeling it was to cry. To cry over what it'd done time and again with lessers—a brief snap of the neck, a quick slit of the throat, a jab at the space between an arm and a chest. To cry over what it had witnessed over and over. Death. A murder. Now, it was its claws that blood slicked-over.

It gagged again, nostrils filling with the sizzling scent of meat cooking; and, briefly, it was taken to a flash of Leo, seated around a fire that Talys had conjured up for the two of them, eating fish grilled on the coals and making idle chatter. Yet the memory was plagued with the putrid odor of fur burning, organs uncleaned reducing to nothing but black ash.

Chaotic fire blitzed underneath the Selenite, and with wide, teary eyes, the kaijin jerked backward, nearly falling over its own two wobbly legs and tail in a mad grab to shove off.

Aspen was devoured just seconds after it broke away. Reduced to little but blackened bone in the same way She had willed Her horrible monsters to consume Scout, the same way that Aethril had inverted Kethri just weeks ago. Through Chaos and a Godawful power, and through Selenite's own hands.

It gagged for a third time as it collapsed onto its knees, and then its hands—even the one that'd been mangled and amputated. Blood streamed down its face, and it wavered even crouched there. Quills rattled not from anger, apprehension, but from the swirling nausea deep in its gut and that horrible, horrible, sickening feeling that grew stronger as it stared at the claws it'd used to kill and back at what remained of— of—

Selenite crawled those precious few inches to the skeleton, stumbling and wincing as sand coated the stumps of its fingers and a phantom sensation of their still being there lanced up that arm. It crawled, and it barely hauled itself back upright, sitting on its knees.

Shaking hands reached for the skull, and their fingers left bloody smears on its cheeks as it made contact. Already, the bone was ice-cold to the touch. Selenite sobbed. It sobbed, and it lifted the bone upward.

Its head tilted downward, and it pressed its forehead against the skull's. Eyes screwed shut, and tears began anew.

"I—I'm so, so, suh—s-sorry," it whimpered between gasping breaths intense enough to shake its entire form.

DEATHMATCH

The DRAMA! THE HORROR! If Nemean could've possibly gotten any more excited watching the cat get flash-cremated, she damn near would've exploded. A victorious shriek of delight echoed around the arena, loud enough to pop anyone's ears. "HAHAHAHAHA, YESSSS! YESSSSSS! ADD THAT AWESOME KILL-SACRIFICE TO YOUR RESUME, GUY!" (No, she totally hadn't already forgotten its name—) "THERE'S YOUR WINNER, FOLKS! WOO-HOO!!!"

Fireworks shot off above the arena, casting it in a rainbow of colors. Celebratory trumpets blared. An air of triumph was imposed on the sobbing man-thing because hey! That was a victory well-earned, and one Hell of an amusing one!

Oh, lightbulb.

The sprite leaned forward in her seat, cackling madly. "Oh, and did you hear that, guy? It's last words were 'heya!' How pathetic are those? Didn't even spit a cool line before dying!" Not that he could've breathed, but... y'know... at least try for it!

A fistful of popcorn disappeared into the Collector's hood, a sharp-toothed grin glinting from deep within. He gave no less than uproarious applause. "WELL-PLAYED, DEAR COMBATANT! And you—Draconua, is it?—a wonderful show... I could practically taste the Chaos." Scrumptious. A dish best served hot.

"Now, quit crying and take your kickass trophies and g'won! —and also your fingers! Don't want anyone slipping on those bad boys!"

It was time for more... DEATHMATCH!

_____________

DEATHMATCH WINNER: V-SELENITE-ONE

Character: Aspen Age: +5 (36 Cycles - Capped) Magic Level: +1 (Fledgling) ROUND 1 Attempt: +10 Penalties: - ROUND 2 Attempt: - Penalties: - ROUND 3 Attempt: +11 Penalties: - ROUND 4 Attempt: +14 Penalties: - ROUND 5 Attempt: +20 Penalties: - ROUND 6 Attempt: - Penalties: - Total: 61

Character: V-Selenite-One Age: +5 (12 Cycles - Capped) Magic Level: +1 (Fledgling) ROUND 1 Attempt: +19 Penalties: - ROUND 2 Attempt: - Penalties: - ROUND 3 Attempt: +17 Penalties: - ROUND 4 Attempt: +11 Penalties: - ROUND 5 Attempt: +20 Penalties: - ROUND 6 Attempt: +12 Penalties: - Total: 85

NUMERICAL WINNER: V-Selenite-One

Ahh... cats...

The Revenant's idle chatter was just a bit less spirited than Vargas's, but interested nonetheless, "as popular as they seem to fuckin' be, they must be good." It was true that there was an abundance of feline creatures in this event, and it was like just now that Vakornol had really taken note of it; mostly because demarcation of species, or whatever, was a new and vaguely silly idea. Whoever had decided that should be a thing?

Whatever.

Once she'd finished choking on her popcorn and yelling for blood, she leaned forward, too, more out of incredibly piqued interest than anything. "TWIST THE NECK! SNAP IT!" Quick, efficient, lethal—the poor thing would be out of the matches anyways, this deep into strangulation. "BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD!"

And then she sat back, wide-eyed as lightning and fire alike shot through the air, and the scent of flesh disappearing in an instant burned at her nostrils. "... well, shit. That's one Hell of a finisher for that." Damn cat couldn't have even had a chance to get up, and smart of the humanoid to actually get up before the fire ate it too. Even if it was currently shaking—from bloodloss, she assumed, amid the loud music and bright colors—against the skull of the cat it'd killed.

"Well, if you can get to 'em, you'll have an abundance of them and their stones to use after all this," Vakornol shrugged lightly, casually, like pawning off the only personal remnant of the dead wasn't morally wrong and the Selenite still hadn't gotten up from its spot, even at Nemean's command.

She eyed the pile of what once was Aspen. "... including that one."

@Vargas