RP:Anachronism Stew & Why I Love Peanut Butter Cookies

Part of the A Few Fox Tales Arc

This is a Rogue's Guild RP.

Summary: As the dramatic conclusion to the TOW Tourney plays out - the fate of continental canon is threatened, by delicious peanut butter. Much grifting ensues.

Where the Titan Of Winter Finale Happened (Look, my Logs aren't flawless)

Kanna takes a deep breath. She has yet to host an event by herself, but the circumstances could not be changed at this point. Rising from the commentary box, Kanna waves to the audience to get their attention. An off-shoulder cornflower peasant's top with a patchwork skirt adorns her form, with flowers matching the skirt littered throughout her white-silver curls. The necrobotanist waves her hand to activate the speaking runes just like Quintessa showed her... but nothing happens. She waves again, then again. Finally, Sarosa enters the box, activating the spell for the runic-impaired Kanna. "Gentlefolk! Ferals! Domesticated Cryptids! It's the moment that had everyone's mind preoccupied for the last sun. Which of these dangerous men will the lovely Lita have the pleasure of facing in the finale? It's time for the second semi-final match of the Vailkrin Blood Bowl! In this corner, it's the Baking Boxer from Cenril, the necromancer extraordinaire, and my dear fellow fans, sadly, he is taken, but that doesn't mean you can't cheer with everything you've got when you gaze upon... the Knockout... KHITT!"

Leoxander arrived in that area set up for spectating, stepping out the last of the cigarette he’d finished on the walk through the dark streets of Vailkrin. He glanced at the lower bleachers or benches or whatever was suited for the common crowd, then glanced up toward the higher rise where there were probably a few cushioned seats with a better view. Now, maybe he was outright breaking the rules, but that was in his curriculum for the day, like most days. Motioning toward Lora, the lycan climbed the step with intentions of taking some of those fancy end seats that would probably be vacant, anyhow. He didn’t see the Blue Demon or his family, the reigning queen or her caged bird, and hopefully, there wouldn’t be any guards to confront him as the plan was only one fight in the arena that day.

Mahri was already there because of course she is, scoping out the arena and patrons. How lucky for Leo and Lora that section of seats had a great view and exactly the reason Mahri chose it.

Khitti || Much like last time during the announcing stage, Khitt was busy warming up. He had those same gloves that definitely-not-Quintessa had, but he also had something else as well: the planisphere that Khitti often had with her. It was hooked to his belt by a small leather loop with a snap. Aside from that, the rest of his attire was fairly the same as last time: braided hair, long-sleeve purple shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his suit pants, and those nice leather shoes that were always exquisitely polished. As Khitt’s name was called, his wife Annette screamed and cheered the loudest for him as he moved a little more to the center of the arena and gave the air in front of him a one-two punch. He’d stare at Mesdoram once the drow appeared… and smirked. It was a pretty damn big smirk too. Win or lose, Khitt was going to take great pleasure in beating the absolute hell out of Mesdoram.

Kanna nods approvingly at her mentor's entrance with a smile, a genuine one this time. "And in this corner, you saw how good he can beat up children, you know him from his antagonizing plays or pick-up lines, he's one of the first lucky recipients of the Black Pond Boutiques' line of Sleeping Beauty Nightshade Lipstick. And ladies, if you don't mind another woman's name being carved into his skin, he's single~. Give it up for our Malevolent MESDORAM!"

Meri eyes Mahri, Leo, and Lora for a moment, only to wave to them. Her attention is not on them for long though, as Khitti's arrival is made and Meri has to do a whole bunch of cheering and stuff.

Meri boooooos for Mesdoram, of course.

Mesdoram had awoken from his drunken/poison/love sick slumber from the previous night fueled by a massive thirst: both for hydration and retribution. The drow stands hungover geared up for battle… from the night before? Fresh blood drips from his ebony battle gear with his earthly elemental blade currently saturated with crimson liquid from a fresh kill only an hour prior. His right hand holds a shocking souvenir and the drow proudly raises his trophy for the world to see; some onlookers are accustomed and bored to Mesdoram’s antics, but the uninitiated are absolutely disgusted when they see the severed head of a feral pig being shown to them. Upon realizing who introduced him, the drow speaks to the crowd with extra sarcasm. “Fear not, my lovelies! For I have personally tracked down and slain the fat sow who had the gall to poison me last night. This disfigured hog put me to sleep for a day… and now she slumbers for all eternality. For even in my drunken stupor, I would never forget the face of the fool who sought to silence me.” With introductions out the way, Mesdoram tosses the unfortunate piggie’s head towards the northern wall where lands sloppily towards the tournament’s organizers. Concealing his smile from Kanna, Mesdoram grabs one of the free chunks of bread, lightly dabs the dough to soak up the bread around his face as if applying make-up, and completely engulfs the bread into his gullet. (needs something to soak up the alcohol from last night). Mesdoram looks at Khitt with glazed eyes… this hangover is absolutely killing him inside. “Dead or alive, Khitt, you’re coming with me…” Having a lot of his stamina on the pig toss, Mesdoram begins verbal jabs are already weakening. This should be fun.

Loravelle might have panicked and tried to tug Leo toward the cheaper seats when he starts heading up instead of down, but that was the past. It should be fine for one fight, so she follows after him and spies Mahri nearby, which causes a grin. This is perfectly fine. She settles in one of those fancier seats and marvels at just how much more comfortable they are. They could have been 'borrowing' these the entire time? Before getting too comfy, she gives Meri a shy wave and applauds for - Khitt, Mesdoram? Khitt. Because he's already throwing punches at the air.

Ina announces her presence with a heavy thud, as yet another ramshackle sales booth is set up in record time. Though, setup is -definitely- a misnomer, given it's more like she just tosses a pile of wood in a heap, and it clatters together in a sort of ramshackle way. To the extent that it looks perpetually poised to teeter apart, and provide an unwary bystander tetanus. Or more likely, just an excess of splinters. And yet, where the presentation of this stand falls flat- the goods that are deftly lain across the table are anything but- a number of blue tins layered across its surface like a small fort. Containers, which all bear - well, yeah, no it's just a horribly unprofessional-looking self-portrait of Ina adhered to the surface with a bit of Alchemy. But it's -BRANDING-. And the goods? "We got - " ...She wasted so much time with all this prep work that she only brought the one thing, so her pitch just sort of comes to an abrupt halt at, "Peanut butter cookies. Ch'yeah."

You dropped 20 Goeey Peanut-Butter Cookies.

Leoxander didn’t bother with much applause yet, though if he had to pick a favorite Leo would always bet on red. Not to say that Mesdoram didn’t have his moments of entertainment, if only the teeth-grinding annoying part of his antics didn’t outweigh his showmanship. Settling into that more comfortable seat between Mahri and Lora, he relaxed back and propped the treat of a boot on the back seat of the row in front of him, if he could reach, because sometimes first-class had that extra foot room. “Who’s got snacks?” The rogue was hungry, though he’d be hard-pressed to trust anything edible from a Vailkrin vendor; he’d probably get a bag of Quintessa’s favourite. Ina's call seemed to come right on time as he glanced over his shoulder toward those magic words.

Kanna || The ground across the arena reverberates, with Kanna herself holding her palm out in the contenders' direction to deliver tonight's hazard. Large mushrooms acting as platforms grow beneath Khitt and Mesdoram's feet, barely three feet across from one point to the other. The stalks grow so that each contender is about ten feet off the ground. Three more of these mushrooms grow that span the distance between the two contenders, with the gaps between these platforms being no wider than five feet. On the ground beneath them both, gigantic white serpents pour into the arena, leaving a trail of blooming fungus where they have slithered. Spores float upward, gradually making the air more and more hazardous to breathe in. It's only a matter of seconds before the fungus has grown just enough to conceal the locations of the snakes, though some are already trying to make their way up the mushroom stalks in an effort to get access to the contenders. "I call this the Arcebitor's Special. Do you like it?" Kanna smiles innocently, trying to hide that she's shaking from transforming an entire arena that quickly by herself. "Just like we provided burn cream and frostbite remedies yesterday, anti-venoms and muscle relaxants will be provided to both of you after the fight. Go on now. Show me a good fight!"

Meri puts a piece of popcorn on Magik's head while he's not paying attention.

Loravelle could go for snacks too. While she's wary of Ina, she distinctly heard the word 'cookies' somehow with the loud arena crowd. "Cookies?" Lora suggests, jabbing her thumb toward Ina's...booth? Is that a booth, or a stand? She searches her pockets for some coins. "On me." For both Mahri and Leo. She had to spoil them rotten.

Ina s' actually here as herself for once, though she likely looks a bit out of character all the same, given that she's sporting a flour-stained apron, and one of those really goofy chef hats. All of which is comically oversized for her person, given that none of them are actually hers. She just wanted to look the part. Professional~ "Snrk." In any case, as members of the crowd begin to taste the waters -despite- the roughshod presentation of her . . . We'll say it's a stand, but only on the technicality it hasn't fallen yet, she begins to dole out tins. And the occasional swat when sometimes tries to get handsy and sneak away with one. "Pfft. Wait ja turn. N' quit being so cheap." Says the career criminal.

Leoxander looked over at Loravelle. If someone had to retrieve that tin of cookies - not it. He was comfortable enough with a cushion at his back to lace his fingers behind his skull like a headrest, gaze trailing back toward the center of the arena that had become a deadly garden with an overabundance of serpents in a matter of moments.

Ina said, "*Mumble, Grumble* Where's dat umbrella?"

Magik boos Mesdoram for good measure.

Loravelle makes a face at Leo, but she makes no effort to try nudging him out of his seat to go buy cookies. He's had a long week, so she'll get them. ...And steal probably half of them on the way back, especially once she discovers what flavor Ina has. After vacating her seat she approaches Ina's booth and the scent hits her like a brick wall. Did Mahri like peanut butter as much as Leo and herself did? Well... "May I have three dozen, please?" Lora doesn't even know how much they cost, but she's fishing through the little bag she has slung over her shoulder by its strap. She glances up at Ina timidly too, and adds, "N-nice hat..."

Magik said to Meri, "So rude."

Meri said to Magik, "Definitely rude. No one gets to call my brother ugly but me."

Magik said to Meri, "I hope Khitt kills him where he stands."

Mesdoram already wobbling equilibrium is immediately tested and failed; for the second the ground quakes, Mesdoram loses his grip of his favorite brand which now is embedded below into the scales of his new best friend – a sneaky serpent attempting to end the annoying drow’s performance before Khitt lifts a finger. Sloshing liquid in his belly makes the drow queasy while the stalk beneath abruptly stops growing to the point a very audible hungover belch escapes the tired drow. Attempting to regain his focus and perhaps not die with the first five minutes of a match, Mesdoram quickly surveys a plan B… but the fogginess from the night before will plague him for several more hours. “Alright, screw it.” With these famous last words, Mesdoram starts taking large strides and propels to the mushroom cap directly to Khitt’s righthand side with a not-so graceful landing. Like a surfer rocking back in forth not to become prey for a shark, the drow successfully masters his footing and yells his first insult to Khitt. “Hey ugly!” Nailed it – and with the element of surprise (or annoyance) Mesdoram springs his trap. With his sword currently resting uncomfortably in a silvery basilisk, a sudden bright green silhouette begins enveloping both weapon and beast 10 yards behind Mesdoram… what could his first attack be. “Ne’es snii’ pla!” Magical words escape the drow’s mouth as he simultaneously and powerfully points his right index finger in the direction of Khitt. As commanded by his incantations, Mesdoram’s sword and aura takes a hold of the serpent and launches both blade and beast at wild speeds to his opponent. However, a mistake has been made in the collteral damage department; during the flight of his homemade animal missile, the beast’s tail WHACKS Mesdoram in his back which causes the drow to fall face first on his currently mushroom. What rotten luck – not only is the drow screaming in pain, now he cannot witness the brilliance of his attack which he hopes knocks Khitt of his platform and into the snakes below..

Ina hasn't actually separated these by any firm sort of number, which makes Loravelle's request -awkward-. See, that whole numbering bit would have required forethought, and proper planning- and a commitment to the bit beyond whatever this week's experiment was. Which, to be fair, was how to make a cookie that stayed intact, while retaining some degree of that fresh-baked warmth. And only involved a few of the apprentices at the castle having to nurse stomach aches from repeated taste tests. But here they were, a fidgeting mouse, and a fox trying to frantically ...offload...product. "Ja know what. I gotcha covered. N' I can bring it right over, too." Along with the bill for three dozen tins. "I really do appreciate yer business, toots. And uh, thanks. Nice everything', on yer end. He did well fer' 'imself." This time around, she -does- manage to find the umbrella, popping it out from a disproportionately small bag up her sleeve- if only so she can hook the end around the shoulder of someone trying to walk off with a pair of tins under their armpits. "Wait. Ja'. Turn. Joik." She wasn't even sure she was going to need to open this now. "I'll be right there. Proooomise."

Loravelle looks confused, and is about to learn a very good lesson in not making assumptions. She, Leo, and Mah are going to be in for a surprise. But she still just -stands- there, wondering if she should help since in her mind, it's only three tins she's getting, not three dozen. Ina didn't need to go to the trouble of delivering them. “I can um...I think I can carry three tins..” Her arms may be noodly and weak, but they aren't that weak. Did the foxkin have any signage for prices on her booth? Lora looks, but doesn't see any. “...H-how much?” Her confusion gets worse with each passing second. Is it about to rain? What's with the umbrella?

Leoxander caught part of the conversation from Ina’s booth due to those wolf-sharp ears. So while Loravelle had handled the chore of ordering it, he fished into a pocket for enough gold to cover it, turning over one coin that wasn’t exactly made like the rest. Probably counterfeit, but he tossed it in the mix, anyhow. But his gaze remained on the fight, interested to see who would come out victorious and face his long-time friend in the finals.

Khitti || Khitt too teetered and wobbled as mushrooms grew beneath their feet. And then there were snakes! Why’d it have to be snakes! Actually, snakes are fine. He blinked once, then twice at Mesdoram’s insult, and just shook his head. “Maybe -you- should have the bro-date with Gorehilt, so he can teach you a thing or two about insults.” As Mesdoram threw his snake-sword at Khitt, the redhead was busy waving a hand over the planisphere, the contraption springing to life. He just barely missed the sword, but much like Mesdoram, the snake managed to catch Khitt by the arm with its fangs and sank them as far as they could into his arm, dragging those venom-dripping mouth-dagger along the top of his forearm before continuing on its path to wherever the hell that sword was flying to now. There’s a multitude of swearing (make sure you cover your kids’ ears, everyone) and if Khitt wasn’t pissed before? He was now. As blood leaked from his arm and onto the mushroom beneath him, two great orbs of rainbow-y light formed in his hands and were immediately lobbed at the drow. “I think it’s time for you to see the light, Mesdoram,” he said, smirking just as he had during his introduction. The leather strap used to pin the planisphere to Khitt’s belt loop was unsnapped then, the contraption coming free and breaking into two parts, a pair of steel chakram. Both taken in each hand, they too began to glow, as Khitt hopped from his current mushroom to the next and to another still to keep a distance between him and the drow. First one was thrown, and then the other, each one targeting a different part of Mesdoram’s body: the first went after his legs and the second, his right arm. All the while, snakes made their way up the shrooms, lunging and snapping their fangs at him, some even coming as close as the snake Mes threw at him.

Kanna swoons as Khitt defends her honour.

Ina doesn't quite have signs. Partly because she's being relatively generous with the prices. But also because she's occasionally pausing to haggle due to 'rapidly diminishin' supplies. Ignore the carefully tucked away surplus hidden in the 'stand'. "That's real sweet a' ya. Honest. I was jus' gonna write a quick receipt, so ya didn't have ta deal with anyone taking a measure of ya, 'n tryna fleece ya later." There's a little pause here, and then she offers a charming smile, partly because she's -really- enjoying herself, "I know the capn's good fer it." She pauses there, and then with a surprisingly smooth sleight of hand, produces a paper which she quickly jots across, "3 Dozen Orders a' tha cookies, ja said. N' just sign here, Please n' thank ya." Provided she does, the poor girl going to be handed a trio of tins, the first of many, unfortunately.

Leoxander couldn’t divide his attention much on the business taking place at the trickster’s stall, but he hoped Loravelle double and triple checked that receipt to make sure she wasn’t taking on some extra zeros somewhere. Regardless, he’d handle it later, stomach growling demand for something other than whiskey. And even though he hadn’t touched a drop since the day prior, someone might keel over from shock when the rogue removed a skin of water rather than a flask of booze to take a drink from.

Loravelle has blinders on, or something. She knows who Ina is and has grown to realize that a few of the things she's offered come with some sort of catch, or something embarrassing like that terrible box that made her blush at the thought of it, but these are cookies. You can't mess up cookies. That's just mean. So she signs away, and there are her cookies... And more. And more - “I- wait, I – um.” Well her noodle arms can't carry all of these tins, but before another stack can be piled into her arms she peeks over the top of what she's already carrying. “I meant...three..Just three tins?” It's really too late now, given she's signed that receipt. She looks Leo's way, and tries to peek over her shoulder at the fight she's missing. Hopefully, the cookies aren't explosive or anything. ...Unless they're exploding with good flavour in a way that isn't disastrous. “I'm going to have to do this in a couple of trips.” And she turns to head back toward Leo and Mahri with her stack of cookie tins. At least she's a little smart about it, gifting one to some Vailkrin guard that looks like he's close to booting Leo, Mahri, and herself out of the fancy seats they've taken up. Surely he'll turn a blind eye now. Finally, she sets what tins she could carry down in her seat and hands the topmost tin over to Leo, while trying her damndest not to look flustered. “I...I'm paying for this. Please eat a bunch of them.” And she hurries back to Ina's booth to gather up the rest.

Mesdoram slowly but surely recovers from his first blunder with a much different expression on his face… is… Mesdoram high? The sporous gas has started making their vapors up from below the combatants’ feet; the very reality playing inside the heavy-drink using drow’s mind starts becoming discombobulated – there must be high concentration of potent potables residing in all the mushroom caps as well. Some of the serpents rising from Khitt’s previous mushroom stalk appear to talk to the delirious drow. “I think he went that way.” With a hallucinated tail whip, the magical talking snake comically points into the direction of Khitt. (meanwhile, to the audience and Khitt, it just appears Mesdoram is laughing hilariously at a joke no one spoken while dangerously staring at two light orbs approaching him.) “Thanks snake!” BOOM! Khitt’s powerful orb missiles explode at the drow’s feet and blinds Mesdoram temporarily. “ARGH!” This blinding light does do a bit of good for the drow as some the aura produced makes many of the serpents freeze and wince and Khitt’s attack. Mesdoram staggers in a perfectly unrehearsed dance routine: rubs his eyes, jump up and down, stop drop and roll, repeat. With a bit luck and awesome dance moves, Khitt’s twin steel chakrams manage to bind his right hand to… to.. a snake that was still struggling to see! “I won’t let him get us that easily, Nariv!” With his newly strapped companion along for the ride (who’s mouth is consequently also bounded by the chakram’s wrap), the drow who is tripping balls launches powerfully with his elemental dirk drawn in his left hand looking to stab Khitt center mass with a killing blow. Even if Mesdoram’s blade were not to pierce and make contact with the tall redhead, the combined weight of Mesdoram and his snake friend might be enough to break the brittle fungus cap’s structures, resulting in both Mesdoram’s and Khitt’s last and only trip to funky town.\

Valrae arrives late, the usual. She’s not alone. The witch smiles at familiar faces but picks somewhere that would have her keeping mostly to herself in the stands to sit and cheer on Khitt.

Leoxander looked over at Loravelle, tearing his attention from the duel to double-take a look at the first stack of tins she set down. “...The hell? I said a snack, not the damn shop, Dove.” But he caught the scent of peanut butter and wouldn’t have much reason to complain. Taking two tins from the top, he passed one Mahri’s way and popped the lid of his own open to give a small and inspect the treat for a moment, searching out any telltale signs of tampering with unsavoury ingredients.

Ina has, technically, not messed up cookies. They have somehow retained that freshly baked warmth, without being a gooey mess. Sure, the process of acquiring them might have been mussed a little, but the products themselves are -great-. Enough that a few people are even coming back for seconds. Alas, it looks like with Lora's order, supplies are running horribly low, and there's only -sooooo- many that she can fulfill. What a shame. As Loravelle pops back over, she's offered a legitimately chipper, "N' it's my best customer again, here ya go." As yet more of this nonsense is offloaded onto her person. Really, it's a process that's going to repeat until the order's filled, and the visible stocks are diminished. Because that's when phase two begins. Phase two being the part where she briefly sneaks away from her stand to take a spot behind the seats the rogues have occupied, and promptly pop open her umbrella. An umbrella which has the rather nasty habit of exuding pixie dust, to a degree that the audience will be well on their way to being micro dosed into a case of the munchies. An event that she's gleefully waiting for when the prices abruptly double. Post-Loravelle. Pranks were pranks, but she was off-limits for serious business.

Mahri pulled her attention from the fight to take a tin and pry off the top and look at the contents. Peanut butter cookies. Not her faves but they'll do. Her nose didn't pick up anything that shouldn't be in them - she hoped anyway - so to be safe the lycan only picked off a small edge piece to nibble on.

Loravelle tries to spin her blunder into something positive when she returns with stack number two of cookie tins, this time dropping gold from her purse on the booth for Ina as payment. We're just...Not gonna tell Leo how much she just spent on cookies. Hopefully, Leo at least looks amused when she returns.“...Snacks for a few days?” They owed Simon for pup-sitting. Maybe they could offload a bunch of these on him when they return home. And Mah is eating them too! It should be fine. Just fine...That is until she gets the last of the cookies over to her seat and notices some faint, shimmery particles in the air. Did Ina just- Lora's reflexes are human and slow, so she very well might not be fast enough to try shielding Leo's nose, but she tugs the scarf covering her hair free and immediately flings it at Leo. She's just made bad moves all around today. Lora finally settles down after shoving some cookie tins off of her seat, save one, which she starts snacking out of. She's missed half of the fight and wants to pout about it.

Khitti || Much like Mesdoram with the spores, Khitt too was very quickly being affected by the venom coursing through his veins. It’s then as Mesdoram talked to his snake buddies that Khitt felt a drip come from his nose. He took a second to check it with his hand and pulled back blood. And then he had the strange urge to cough. And when he did? More blood. “A frakking hemotoxin, Kanna?!” Yeah, he’s not happy about this. Throughout his distraction (and the drow’s), there’s more coughing and more blood and this attack was enough for Mesdoram to take his hit with the elemental dirk. He managed to knock Khitt to the top of the mushroom with his lunge, the whole thing shaking the shroom. The dagger met with flesh, but it found home in Khitt’s shoulder, the redhead letting out an angry cry. “I’m bleeding enough, thank you!” As more and more snakes piled onto the teetering shroom, the fungi began to collapse beneath them all. Getting that sense of impending danger--though maybe it was from the venom--Khitt shadowstepped out from beneath Mesdoram, finding home on another mushroom a few feet away. Without much care, he ripped the dagger from his shoulder and threw it back at the drow, blood pouring from the wound. As if things couldn’t get much worse, Khitt was given pause as a rainbow-colored goose with a unicorn horn slowly floated past in front of him, waving a wing at him, “Hiya, Khitt!” Khitt shook his head. “Nope! Nuh uh! No!” The realization that he was weakening and now the spores were taking effect as he summoned up a ball of shadow magic in one hand, and another of light magic in the other. He forced the two opposing magics together--the very same that recently destroyed the Dragana mansion--and threw it… at the uni-goose. “NOT IN MY HOUSE, GOOSE!” More orbs of both kinds of magic were continuously summoned then and pushed together before now being thrown at Mesdoram. “This is -your- fault! JUST DIE ALREADY.” Even as he pushed on, he could feel more of the silver snakes wrapping around his legs and sinking their fangs into him.

Leoxander ‘s senses were occupied by the scent and taste of peanut butter as he took his first bite of that cookie, expecting it to be a bit brittle and hard for being in a sealed tin, but pleasantly surprised when it practically melted in his mouth. Chewing his bite, watching the fight, oblivious of the blight in the form of released dust (yeah, my rap game is sick), he took a moment to rub an eye with the back of his hand, sniffed, cleared his throat before a swallow and suspiciously eyed the treat he’d taken a sample of again. That's when he's distracted as Loravelle throws her headscarf his way and he bothers to wonder if she's revolting tradition and letting her inhibitions fly free. Picking up the scarf, he tried to keep attuned to the battle but still gives his fiance a questioning look.

Loravelle not so subtly points behind Leo at Ina and her dust-spewing umbrella. "Cover your nose." And maybe the cookies so they don't get pixie sprinkles on them...

Loravelle is also painfully aware now that her hair is now just -loose-, so she shrinks back in her chair and tries to pretend that lengthy mass of black locks is somewhat hidden and out of the way.

Ina is in her element, fully giving way to the perverse, dark power that is *Artificial Scarcity*. It's a shame that her partner-in-crime isn't here, both to witness the spectacle and join the antics, but she's at least able to appreciatively murmur,"Capitalism is my b-" Goose? Did someone just yell about a goose? She finishes fleecing another poor sucker, as the supplies actually begin to run low- and finds herself wanting to get a good look at what's going on. She's definitely missing some of the good stuff here.

Leoxander turned half of a glance back in the direction Lora' motioned and realized what she was pointing out. "Sonuva..." Oh, he finished that statement, but there were enough cheers and jeers to drown out some of his murmurs. "Really?!" He called back toward the foxkin before complying to tie the woman's scarf around the lower half of his face, dropping the lid back on his tin. He had to shove what was left of his cookie into his mouth since it was an inconvenience trying to eat and not go into anaphylactic shock.

Mahri looks at Loravelle. "Nice hair." Just because as she nibbles a cookie. Pixie dust? Doesn't bother her. Much.

Ina is also possibly getting a small taste of her own medicine, too- which is why there’s the contemplation of seeing if there's an Invisible Hand she can high-five. Alas, Adam Smith is nowhere to be found.

Loravelle is gonna just. Sit here, red-faced and embarrassed and probably glittery thanks to Ina's handiwork. But Mahri compliments her, so she tries a wry smile. She's going to need to be hosed off once this is all over.

Mesdoram t-poses down as the mushroom infrastructure gives ways; like a heavy feather falling like a ton of bricks, Mesdoram lands heavy and forceful: the impact of his decent is cushioned by his companion who’s neck is now snapped into several pieces internally. Serpents and spores surround the delirious (and possibly delicious) drow as the symbiotic pair take turns approaching him with unique battle plans. The snakes congregate around his feet but simply slither and tease their prey to make him taste better with the fear toxic spores playing mind games Mesdoram’s deteriorating psyche. Before either assailant can claim Mesdoram as their prize, his own elemental dirk betrays him and pieces deeply into Mesdoram’s right quadricep. Immediately crying out in extraordinary agony, Mesdoram can only peer up before collapsing to see who would have the balls… of course it’s Khitt. The added adrenaline courses through his veins begin coagulating within Mesdoram’s tiny frame as a blood thirsty and kamikaze thought invades his mind. While the explosions of the orbs land around the fallen drow, each collision (be it with Mesdoram’s form or the explosions surround and illuminating him) bang of his heavily enchanted piwafia and rhythmically turns the imaginary dial from “crazy” to “absolutely livid.” Electing to keep his 2nd favorite brand inside his leg, Mesdoram calls upon his earthly elemental brand to return to his grasp from wherever it is resting; faithful as ever, the hilt is within hold within mere seconds upon its masters call. Another powerful orb manages to hit his already defeated leg, while a second one highlights the absolute determination from the menacing drow. “You know, Kanna… I’m something of a earthly man myself.” With that, Mesdoram responds to Khitt’s quip in kind. “NO, YOU!!!” With every bit of energy manifesting in the drow, Mesdoram slams his terrestrial blade malevolently into the ground as he shish-ka-bobs several snake heads together into the earth. A much more violent seismic wave ebbs and flows the Vailkrin Arena and uproots the remain mushroom caps at the roots: there is no safe haven to protect either duelist now. A powerful tremor opens the western foundation of the arena and swallows a swarm of unlucky alabaster snakes into the ground beneath their scaly bellies. As Mesdoram has seem have accepted his fate to overdoes from fungus spores among us, he would be happy for Khitt to join him down to his level and enjoy the sweet, sweet inhale of death by spores and earthquakes alike.

Ina might, potentially, just possibly- be enjoying herself a bit too much. Then again, given it's down to three tins being sold at a 400% markup, partially because there's some minor bidding, from people who've been at the heart of umbrella central. Life is good. Mostly. She's pretty sure Leo scowled at her for some reason- but like. She delivered quality goods. What's the deal? Actually, it's a good question, and she makes a series of gestures open to interpretation in that general vein, even as the box bundles dwindle from three, to two to- "Ah. Done-so~!" With a small grunt of exertion, she leans back and then boots her stand, seemingly indifferent to the hilarious ease with which it promptly implodes on itself. She's not cleaning it up, after all.

Magik said to Meri, "You didn't miss anything. Mes still sucks."

Meri said to Magik, "I would say I am shocked but..."

Khitti || With those two words, with that ‘NO, YOU!!!’, Khitt went into rage mode. No one makes him bleed his own blood and gets away with it! Except, for now, Mesdoram -does- get away with it as he slammed his dagger into the ground and the quakes began. There more extremely color language as he shadowstepped around to try to get away from the ever-breaking ground. He misstepped, however, his boot barely keeping contact with the ground before slipping off of it entirely, sending Khitt falling down into the earthy depths of Mesdoram’s making. There’s silence, a large puff of dust blowing up from the bottom, signaling the end of Khitt’s descent to the bottom. And then, in the dust’s wake, there’s something… something strange. It sounded like yelling. The kind of yelling that came from an anger that had boiled deep within a person for far too long. The yelling got louder as down in the crack in the earth Khitt summoned up two MASSIVE orbs of light and shadow, the two magicks crackling and hissing and building up energy as they continued to be built upon with no care even for the one that conjured them. It looks like Khitt’s going super saiyan, folks! It’s then, when Khitt could not possibly hold the two together anymore and keep them from exploding that they -did- explode and very quickly began to implode the entire center of the arena. All forms of the black tides unleashed; shadowfire, shadow-ice, and even the virtually unknown black lightning and shadowglass were let loose upon the arena, forever at war with the rainbow, sparkle-filled light magic that too threatened to entirely destroy the arena--and possibly even Vailkrin itself. Even after the explosion, its subsequent implosion, and the dust settling in its wake, there seemed to be no sight of Khitt.

Mesdoram witnesses his worth opponent conjuring his ki, concentrating the energy with his hands while looking very pissed off. The fumigated Mesdoram sighs in disappointment as he removes his blade from the ground and teasing lifts it in the falling trajectory of Khitt. But his plan is not attack the fallen warrior; still attached to the bulk of his earthly weapon are the three recently deceased serpents dangling lifeless from a small height. “At least if you are going to do the same attack, at least cook me some dinner first sweetheart.” And it was at this moment he knew… he done did messed up. Khitt unleashes his most powerful spell with the flurry of scattered shots as the multitude of foreign elements indiscriminately unleash their righteous fury onto every living inside the arena… “Oh Crap! I’m a living thing inside the arena!” Before Mesdoram can enjoy some homemade unakyu, a forceful combination of shadowfire and black lightning pulverizes the drow and sends him skyward… thankfully for Mesdoram, one of his pillars he created ‘cushioned’ his fall and now resides in a newly crafted makeshift cave. Living in this hole for the moment, Mesdoram sits motionless in his upgraded house, staring up into the rocky ceiling, and questions his life choices… With a last playful jab to no one, a drow voice echo’s from his spectacular view of the carnage of snake sinew and mushroom. “Well… I guess after all… I was a pretty… fun-guy?” As the boo’s begin raining down, Mesdoram shrugs. “Not the worst hangover I’ve ever had…”

The Fighting Ends

Leoxander would be heard expelling a loud sneeze in the crowd.

Kanna takes the small card from the judges' booth and flips it open. "Ladies and gentlemen, enbies and otherkin, put your hands together for your second Vailkrin Blood Bowl Finalist.... KHITT!!! And of course, give all the commiserations to Mesdoram for such a wonderful match! Khitt..." Kanna leans over the judges' box, that saccharine smile giving her an ominous look. "FINISH HIM."

Magik said to Meri, "If Khitt wins he can stay in the family."

Leoxander scrubbed at an eye with the heel of his hand, trying to clear his vision to see the duel concluded.

Magik said, "Kill him where he stands!"

Meri said to Magik, "Oh well would you look at that. But Khitt would have stayed in the family anyway. You knew what you married."

Meri said, "Do it! Right where he stands!"

Magik said to Meri, "I know. Still fun to say."

Valrae cheers loudly for Khitt but adds, "But maybe don't really kill him!" Sorry, Meri and Magik. Valrae was against murder as a general rule. Speaking of, the fact that Quintessa was nowhere to be seen hadn’t been lost upon her. The witch hopes that wherever Kasyr is, he could feel her cursing him in her mind… And maybe the disappointment and worry that was buried beneath the anger too.

Ina scooches back in an ambling gait perhaps befitting the two who had duked it out almost spores and spat venom . . . and just normal snake venom. Specifically, enough so that she has proper clearance to let out a brief puff of fire, enough to ignite some of the stray pixie dust so she can safely collect her umbrella. With a jaunty tune, it's clicked close, slung over her shoulder and plunked back into her sleeve- the fox beginning to scooch away from the scene, in case anyone starts to question their purchasing history.

Khitti || Throughout the entirety of the judging process, Khitt had been climbing and shadowstepping his way out of the pit Mesdoram had created. He managed to reach the top as a bloody, singed, dirt-covered, venom-infused, goose-hating, and still sort of raging mess. Bruised and bloodied fingers drag the redhead up onto the pillar that just so happened to be Mesdoram’s hiding spot. The twilight witch grabbed Mesdoram by his collar and dragged his ass out of the little sanctuary cave he’d made for himself, and pulled him alllllll the way to the edge of the cliff where he just climbed up from, lots of swearing and insulting of the drow along the way. Khitt held Mesdoram out over the ravine, one hand gripping the drow’s throat as the other conjured a mass of shadows. The shadows spread from Khitt’s hand, enveloping the drow in utter darkness, the acidic shadows biting and burning at the drow’s flesh. “The Lyastri-D’Chaths send their regards,” he hissed out at Mesdoram just as the shadows burst into shadowflames. And then, Khitt dropped him, letting the drow fall to whatever demise the gods’ deem fit for him. The redhead wiped his hands, which literally did nothing because of all the blood and dirt, then fell over onto the ground, unconscious. The healers and his wife would have to deal with him.

Kanna can hear the cheering coming all the way from Castle Blackwell. News travels quick. Kanna snaps her fingers, dispatching at least one healer to help Khitt get de-spored and patched up. He'd need it.

Leoxander finally sat up from his lean on that cushioned seat, watching the shadow-fireball of drow disappear into the chasm (probably). "...Well, that takes care of that." It was hard for him to feel any remorse. So difficult, in fact, he had none to give. Glancing over Mahri's way, then toward the Mouse, he regarded her numerous stacks of tins with a quirk of brow, knowing he'd be carrying the bulk of her purchase back to the island.

Mesdoram offers no resistance as Khitt manhandles his tiny body easily over the edge of the cliff… this does not trigger the reaction maybe Khitt was hoping for, but regardless… Mesdoram looks at this situation very frightenedly and weakly tries to loosen Khitt’s grip. “NO! If you do this, he will come back! Please no!” But the voice his not his own… it is a foreign voice no one has heard from in years… Mesdoram’s eyes flashes blue very prominently at the mention of ‘Lyastri’ and stares plaining back at Khitt… wanting to speak further… but alas, the acidity from Khitt’s shadow conjuring overwhelms the panicky drow and screams out in agony (probably to the delight of many in the audience) and drops heavily into the pits he created in the duel. The fire, acid, and shadow accumulated in a final crescendo of pain… and with a heavy thud, the drow lays motionlessly on the shattered pavement… eyes opened… turning back into their silvery painful eyes, and closes them as he waits for help.. or death to come.

Loravelle is covered in a thin layer of pixie dust and she hates it, but she does have...sorta has, the means to carry a decent amount of those cookie tins. Cover your eyes, people. Thank goodness for several robe layers, because she does the unthinkable in public and unfastens the outermost layer of her robes so she can bundle up some of those cookie tins within it, tying the bundle off with the robe's sleeves. It was her problem, so she shouldn't dump all of the work on Leo. Shouldn't dump any of it on Leo, truthfully. “I think I got about half...”

Ina wobbles, and realizes that she should maybe invest in a walking stick. Instead, she finds a good discreet spot to scurry- so she can just avoid the hassle of walking. Though less in the taking a nap sense, and more- that she decides walking sucks, and now's as good a time as any to become a hot-blooded cold-blooded version of herself, fine vestiges of fur and familiar charm points of tails and ears lost to the wind- replaced instead with purple scales, and a length that -actually- makes her purloined outfit properly fit. " What'sss good in the- ...Naaah. Overdone." Whilst normally she might take greater ends to tweak the finer details of her features, she's venturing off to find the rest of her compatriots. Hopefully, they weren't even that mad at her. Baked goods does tend to mollify folks.

Leoxander stood up, and he was about to help Loravelle collect those cases, but against his will he found himself looking back toward the pit that offered no view of Mesdoram from that angle in the spectator stands. “... Jus’... gimme a moment.” He murmured to Loravelle, as well as Mahri if she were still nearby, and he would come back to assist the Mouse who was collecting peanut butter cookies like a squirrel for the winter. Jogging at a lazy pace down the steps toward the barrier at the edge of the arena, he looked around for any sign of the redhead duelist, who had already - it would seem - made his way out of the ring to the cheers from his family. Then a glance around for said rescue agents or healers, but he didn’t spot anyone rushing to the scene, yet. Planting a hand on the railing, Leo jumped the gate without the superhero landing to the knee but a crouch to prevent a shock or fracture. Somewhat protected by any lingering toxins in the air and hopefully able to kick any lingering serpents away, he approached the edge of the chasm where he’d seen the drow unceremoniously deposited.

Mahri 's here, eating cookies with a touch of glitter in her hair. Or pixie dust, probably

Mesdoram laid there... broken... beaten... physically and morally. Like so many things in his life, through all fault of his own, Mesdoram's loneliness finally become its on entity, its own form... and being. There will be no more quick japes from his fallen man anymore as he stares upto into the arena sky tempted just given in to the release... until an unlikely source of possible rescue came in the form of Leo, the flash of blue returns to his eyes once more as he remembers Leo from before. Not knowing if these will be his last words, an unusual gesture from the heartbroken drow... tears and miming the words. "I'm sorry, Leo..." Too exhausted to speak the words properly, Mesdoram passes out... accepting those may be his final words.

Leoxander ‘s expression was already solemn, but the edge of his jaw shifted as his teeth clenched for the drow’s words. There wasn’t a drop of like in his system for the man, but having lived the life of an outcast, he knew that feeling of being defeated, physically and spiritually, and left in a cell or pit to rot. Leo looked over his shoulder after a moment, cupping a hand to call toward Mahri, though he probably didn’t need to be that loud for her to pick up on his request. “Can you lend me some leads out’a this dirt?” He’d seen her summon her vines in her duel with Lita, so he figured he knew the answer to that question, already. Even though the duelist had lost consciousness and it might come as a disappointment or a shock to any witnesses left, he had the intention of climbing down and using the benefit of lycan strength to crawl back out with Mesdoram over a shoulder, burnt, bleeding and broken.

Loravelle, with her portion of the cookies packed up in a more convenient means of carrying them around, turns to watch just what Leo is up to down there. Naturally, she's worried, so she abandons the cookies and hurries down to the fighting area after him. Her vault and landing over the railing is very clumsy, and she winces when she thinks she might have landed on her ankle wrong. ...And there's snakes. Well, snakes are okay as long as she keeps out of their way. She lingers at hopefully a safe distance from Leo, uncertain if she can really provide any help here.

Mahri blinks down towards the arena, hearing her name. She has to take a moment before it registers where and from whom it was coming. "Oh, right." Setting her nearly empty tin of cookies aside, the lycan takes the same path as Leo had down and over the wall to join him at the crevasse. Looking down at it and at the prone body of the drow, Mahri curls her lip in subconscious disgust. "You really want to do this?" Save the drow, she meant. After only a moment's hesitation, the alpha provides what's been asked. A vine, thick enough to hold two makes its way from the side of the mini-canyon sprouting strong ladder-like stems for Leoxander climb down and back up on. The stalk is smooth and free of anything dripping the toxic venom Lita had encountered. You're welcome.

Mesdoram remains heavyweight - albeit 140 pounds plus some lightweight armor. The drow is still alive but overcome with exhaustion and will have no memory of this duel until he heals properly.

Mahri sniffs - and sneezes but not from allergies.

Leoxander answered Mahri, first. “No…” But he still expected her to comply and do as he asked. Glancing back toward Lora, he held up a hand to stop her from approaching. “Watch yer feet an’ stay back.” Another kick of heavy boot sent an alabaster serpent flopping into a squirm on itself. He crouched to take hold of the vine but only crawled enough to safely freefall the rest of the way into another crouched landing. Also expecting Mahri to make certain he didn’t ascend to a kiss from one of those vipers, the weight of the drow was managed easily enough, though he didn’t much favour all that blood and gunk on him for the climb. Not overly careful with the body, he flopped the drow over once he reached the edge before he pulled himself up as well. Hopefully by then some healers were on the move to take over and drag him on litter the rest of the way to the medical tents, but either way, Mesdoram would wake up in the makeshift infirmary rather than at the bottom of a snake-filled pit.

Mahri directs vines on either side of the wolf and drow, weaving them back and forth to the top of ravine to act as a wall between them and the snakes

Mahri || Leo could probably climb up those as well. Looking over her shoulder at Loravelle, Mahri sneezes again. "Thanks for the cookies, Mouse. You should let your hair go free more often."

Mesdoram The unlikely kindness of Leo, followed faithfully by Lora and Mahri, has finally caught the attention of two healers assigned by the tournament. Despite their disdain for the drow man, one of the healers takes charge and speaks while the other applies immediately first aid. "Thank you, sir." Address Leo who brought Mesdoram away from the hazards created by the tournament director. "And thank you ladies as well - we could not enter with those hazards... nor would we risk our lives for this man..." Seeing his fellow healer give him the 'let's go nod', he explains to Leo, Lora, and Mahri. "We can take it from here. Shall we tell him who was kind enough to save him?" The other healer already has Mesdoram draped over his shoulder. "Let's go, Percy!" With that, Percy takes the other side of Mesdoram and rush him the drow to the arena infirmary. Upon leaving, the assistant healer gives a passing jab at Leo. "I would have let this drow die! Perhaps they are better people than me." With that being the last words spoken by the healers, they rush him to the eastern wall where they keep the infirmary.

Loravelle looks from Leo to Mahri, ignoring that nagging discomfort in the back of her mind at just seeing the magic the she-wolf works. It's helping, not hindering. There's nothing wrong with what Mah is doing, she has to remind herself, but her eyes go wide all the same. Her words have Lora looking up with some alarm, worried that something might be wrong. Instead she smiles sheepishly, and finds herself twirling a strand of her hair around a finger nervously. “T-thanks Mahri...” Her nose crinkles at the pixie dust and she tries to hold back a sneeze.

Leoxander shook his head dismissively against wanting the credit. It didn’t matter. Strange, he couldn’t bring himself to respect the drow, but perhaps secretly he had to give some props for showing up, booed at by most of the crowd, disposed of like garbage. That was the kind of thing he could relate to a bit. But enough good deed for a day. For a week. Hell, for a turn of season. He was rejoining Mahri’s side to close the distance to Loravelle. If Ina was still around, he might consider her shipping the cookie supply so they didn’t have a big haul of it, but that would probably be accompanied by another trick or trap upon delivery. “Let’s get out’a here and find Ace, tell her the news.”

Ina is, in fact still around. Fun fact, when you're waiting for your comrades to shuffle off- unexpected bouts of Altruistic, and apparently sincerely meant compassion puts a serious hamper on getting a party started. She'd be tapping her foot, if she still had one. As it stands, her tail's just flicked up and coiled around herself, so she can watch and wait. "Ja done. Good."

Loravelle tries piling up her hair on top of her head in a bun without something to fasten it off. It'll hold for a little bit, hopefully, but she heads back to Mahri's, Leo's, and her seats from before to gather up her haul of cookies to take home. "Maybe I can make some of these when we have a house," she mumbles to Leo, straining a little while slinging her robes-turned-bag over her shoulder.

Leoxander looked in Loravelle’s direction, nodding and about to idly answer her when the foxkin’s voice piped up and he cast a relatively harmless glare in Ina’s direction. “Next time hold the dust, savvy?” His eyes were bloodshot and teary, nose red and stuffed up, hopefully nothing some ocean wind and half a bath wouldn’t fix, since he didn’t have any of Jiang’s tonic in his possession. Back to Loravelle, “We might need to check that book’a yours unless you feel like makin’ a trip to see yer kin tonight.” He was downplaying the effect of the dust a bit, but also the trickster hadn’t opened it close enough to cause any life-threatening reaction. That didn’t make him any less uncomfortable as the itchiness started to kick in and he scratched at his back through the fitted short sleeve shirt marred with bits of Mesdoram’s extra dark burnt skin and blood on one side.

Ina actually takes a second to really get a good gander at Leo, her diagnosis of 'I dun goofed' only really dawning on her once she's actually slithered adjacent to the group. "Uh Huuuh. That's. ...Yeah, savvy, capn'." There's a pause there, her arms pumping in the pantomime of a jog, even as she simply keeps pace, "Oh, that reminds me. I had somethin' ta actually drop off. S'a good lil gag. But one we're gonna have ta keep -very- much on tha' downlow." Which is about all they're gettin' outta her on the matter til they've existed stage south. "Though, we can aim fer a different day iffun ya got yer hands full." A beat. "Or hers."

Leoxander handed Arlyeon an armful of cookie tins, obviously recruiting her to help part way with the burden, without really requesting it. “Headed back to Rynvale, but you can at least walk us to the docks if you don’t plan on crossin’ the channel.” At least then they could get a small crate to load that supply in on the ferry. Still fighting an ongoing cough and making it worse every time he sniffed through his nose and brought more of that dust into his sinuses, he finally nodded Loravelle’s way and meant to usher her with a motion of jaw to head toward the streets of Vailkrin for the walkthrough that dark city and Cenril. “I ain’t opposed to that.” The swim, he meant, while she would probably forgo the extra lessons to thumb through her tome for a remedy to test on him.

Ina actually squints a bit, more at the fact that he's still lookin' a bit finely dusted. Given that it was the stuff from her umbrella- she decides she can maybe help. Specifically, when he leans forward to hand her some cookie tins- she'll just cough up a little wisp of flame into her hand, and tap it to him, like she was trying to spitshine a cowlick in place. Which, might come with mixed results. In a sort of 'puff' as arcanely volatile dust is ignited in a manner akin to an exploding cigar. It's fine, the others mostly cleared him off, right. At least it should stop things from getting -worse-?"I mean, I'm on an errands run, Bo- Cap'n. So, I'm aiming ta' come along, though mostly just long enough ta' give ya what's long overdue." Which, provided he isn't slugging her in the face for her 'help' is something she'll begin to search for. "Jus' had it. It's fine. It doesn't maul people anymore."

Leoxander naturally flinched when that flame slipped over him in a split second like a spark to a flammable leaked vapor, and instinctively Leo went to pat them down but they were already dissipated before he could blink, somehow not singing the hair Mahri had mended after his encounter with Leralynn’s fireballs. “Fine…” he finally said when he was certain he wasn’t on fire somewhere he couldn’t see. “Jus’ keep yer tricks in yer pockets for a minute, would you?” Even though she seemed to be searching for something that wasn’t so dangerous - anymore - Leo made his way out of the arena and onto the streets, making certain Lora was near, though she was probably quiet running through the index of her botanical tome in her mind for the walk. Better that than be spooked by any of the random wraiths or creatures that sometimes drifted on the sidelines of their way out of the dark city and onto the well travelled road east.

Continued in Trish' Semi-Tamed Treasures