This month’s Fangs and Claws Edition leans enthusiastically into the animal theme. The crowd gathers expecting teeth, claws and questionable decisions, and the organizers appear determined not to disappoint.

At the center of it all is Clivia Sanko-Tang, armed with her usual megaphone and the kind of diplomacy normally associated with bar fights. After silencing the audience with a combination of feedback, profanity and blunt force applied to the equipment, she announces that biting is officially considered “on-brand” and warns spectators not to act surprised if anyone leaves the ring with a few additional holes.

The introductions immediately establish the tone.

In one corner stands Nathaniel Saint-James, introduced less through his own achievements than through a detailed and merciless review of his family…

“‘Those’ Saint-James. You know… the family tree that’s somehow equal parts old money and public embarrassment. His sister Isadora, the gang boss famous for banging cops, throwing a fit because vegetables exist, and wandering around town drunk enough to mistake common sense for a myth. And of course, they’re related to Officer Susan Saint-James…”

In the other corner stands a masked fighter led into the arena on a leash by Merrick: wolf mask, red eyes, collar, chains and enough barely restrained aggression to make the evening’s theme seem less like marketing and more like a public safety warning.

Clivia christens him Merrick’s puppy-dog, warns Merrick that he will be responsible for cleaning the ring, and demands that the crowd make enough noise to see whether the fighter deserves his treats.

By the time she screams “FIGHT!”, the audience is ready, the betting is underway and any remaining trace of civilized restraint wisely leaves the premises.

Fangs, Claws and Merrick’s Puppy-Dog

Clivia’s cry of fight has barely finished booming through the megaphone before Nathaniel appears to recognize the man behind the wolf mask. “August…?”

Nathaniel charges first, driving his claws into his opponent’s side and dragging them across his stomach before throwing him into the wire fence. The “beast” answers by explaining, at full volume and between bursts of laughter, that he has not been hiding. He has been kidnapped, locked away and surrounded by men stronger than him.

Nathaniel does not find this persuasive.

The Puppy-Dog kicks him back, rushes forward and buries his metal claws into Nathaniel’s chest. Within seconds, the fight stops resembling a match and becomes a private argument conducted through blood loss: they yell and accuse each other of abandonment while tearing open anything within reach. The “beast” goes for Nathaniel’s throat and slams him to the floor. Nathaniel headbutts the mask and claws at his arm. Outside the cage, Merrick rattles the fence and cheers like a proud owner watching a dog destroy the furniture.

The “beast” drags Nathaniel into a corner and drives his boot repeatedly into his chest. Nathaniel answers by slicing across the back of his ankle and
that finally changes things. Merrick’s Puppy-Dog drops to one knee, still clawing, still growling and still apparently unfamiliar with the concept of stopping. Nathaniel punches him once, then again, catching the exposed side of his head. He hits the floor in a heap of metal, chains and very poor life choices.

Clivia immediately declares Nathaniel Saint-James the winner.

Nathaniel remains upright, bleeding from several important locations. His “August” lies unconscious at his feet. Merrick dismisses his defeated “mutt” as worthless and walks away without checking whether he is still breathing.

The crowd gets its spectacle.
Nathaniel gets his “August” back.
Around the ring, the winning bettors collect their cash while the less fortunate reconsider both their judgment and their finances.

Business as usual

Beyond the walls, the lights of Port Laveau continue to shimmer across the black water, indifferent to the blood being washed from the ring. By morning, the docks will return to business as usual.

In Laveau, they usually do.