Shatter Me

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Esha could tell from her crouched defensive position that this dwarf simply oozed smarmy, cocky, confidence. He walked like he owned the world and everything was to bow to his short fat feet. He was especially pleased tonight. Having purchased a new high value fighter. Not only sexually appealing, for half cat, but one with a rare deadly ability to shape change. He was seeing piles of coins, boozes and loose women as he looked at Esha. He saw the money she’d bring him, if she could stay alive. “Ya don’t look worse fer wear after gnawing on that night terror. That’s why I put ya with Tarsus. Knew he’d medicate ya so ya wouldn’t die on me.”

He paced the cage looking her over properly though experience taught him to be far enough away that he was out of her reach. “And ya’ve not killed him either… Ya not a mindless beast.” He nodded with pride as that was what he thought. “Well since ya play so nice together she’ll be your new partner. I’ve been wanting to get into team matches but I didn’t have someone worth pairing with you, Tarry boy.” He said in an obnoxious tone to Tarsus, giving him his own pet name. “So you’ll be trainin’ with her till your next fight.”

Those words meant that they’d not be fighting again this night. Although this didn’t give a time frame on when they’d be leaving. Esha remembered the original advice Tarsus gave and had she listened she’d not have painful bleeding lashes in her skin. So she merely curled her lips back to snarl and hiss at the dwarf. Something he seemed to tolerate for now. She wanted to throw the bottle but that wouldn’t get her anywhere.
 
Lucky day. Tarsus thought to himself, looking away from his dwarven owner and his cronies, the stink eye from the ugly one, the one he'd maimed, was beginning to wear on him a little bit. Mention of his taking care of her did garner his attention and he was forced to pay attention, glancing between the bristling and hissing cat creature. The sudden mention of a partnership had him sitting up abruptly with mouth agape in surprise and protest.

A cold look from the dwarf had silenced the gladiator like a stern look from a father. A short bearded and abusive father that made his child whom he'd bought and shipped into becoming a killer for sport to earn him money. What a depraved way to live. For fighter and owner.

Not until the dwarf had left earshot did Tarsus speak up, eyeing Esha warily. "Don't spit on him. He hates that." A warning at least if she tried it. He'd learned from experience. Arms folding across his chest with a glance at his hip, bruised, but not broken. "Think you can manage living with me?" Though the words might have been taken as sarcastic and taunting his face was dead set serious, lips a tight line as he looked at her with raised brows. He sincerely hoped she'd work out, or at least not die as quickly as his other partner had in the arena.
 
If looks could kill Ironbeard would be disemboweled and choking on his own blood by the look Esha gave him. Her eyes bore into him as he left followed by his two lackies. Once he was far enough out of earshot Tarsus gave her another piece of advice. “Don’t throw this thing at him either?” She said glancing at the bottle between her knees. Curling her plush tail around her she calmed down, although still curled as much as possible in her corner. The thought of working with this human however wasn’t what she expected. She scoffed and shook her head. “Living with a human... That’s like spitting in my face… But I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” The question was more spoken to no one rather than directly to Tarsus.

She looked over a deep cut in her arm a moment as she began to speak again. “Let’s get some things straight, human. I am only tolerating you because you are possibly my only chance to escape. As much as I loathe the idea, I need to work with you. Help me escape and you will escape too. Second I don’t trust you. Your breed exists only to destroy and slaughter. The slightest hint I get that your trying to betray me and I will kill you. And third why the hell are you so complacent!? Why are you not fighting to escape!?” It was the most she’d spoken since their meeting but Esha needed to lay down the lines and needed to know more about her situation.
 
He listened to her yammer on and on for what seemed like hours. A casual glance at the sun mid sentence told him otherwise. "Just don't piss him off. Or it's the last for both of us now." The curse of partnership was that small fact, encouraging, they called it, to work together and avoid mistakes. Might not be the first time partners had killed each over such a thing.

Her demands made him smile, a slight grin that grew into a cheeky smirk and beyond. So many rules. Esha would learn quickly he felt, or they'd both die from the lash. As much as he didn't want to have to beat it into her, he may have to if that stubborn attitude was to gauge.

"All you're talk, it'll do you as much good as grox shit here in the pits. So let it go. I'm the closest thing to an ally you're gonna get. If you're lucky, might even throw myself in harms way to save you, you've got that spark of life that's hard to be seen let go. But here it's as good as gone if you act like that.." His tone was calm and collected, sitting aloof against the iron bars.

"And I quit trying to escape because half the city will try to hunt you down. Fighters aren't cheap. And rewards are easy money if the property isn't too damaged. Don't take my complacency for laziness, cat. I miss my home more than anything.."
 
Esha narrowed her eyes on Tarsus as he spoke, a sarcastic smile creased her round face as he mentioned throwing himself in harms was for her. “So kind of you.” She remarked though she was unsure at the moment if she’d do the same for him. After thinking about it she thought that it would probably be best if she did since she needed an accomplice and ally. But then he mentioned her to forget escaping. Her eyes widened and she stared at him a moment and wondered how long he’d been caged and forced to fight like an animal. So long apparently that he’d given up. She started to feel sorry for him.

“Then I will take out all that stand in my way or die trying. To die for freedom or protecting something you care for is the greatest honor, but I will not die honor less in some forsaken pit.” She said as she studied him. “I am not an animal to be caged and fought for pleasure… And neither are you.” As she finished her words both Steve and Russ lumbered their way towards them once again, this time without the dwarf in sight. Esha didn’t know but they were about to be moved back to Ironbeard’s home, or rather where they’d be housed.

She gave a hiss but didn’t move defensively at first but as Russ came closer the bottle at her feet gave her an idea. Tarsus said not to piss off the dwarf. He said nothing about his lackies, not that she remembered anyways. Grabbing the bottle she suddenly jolted to the edge of the bars, letting out a cougar like roar. Her aim was to startle the man, to scare him. Steve stood straight and in a defensive pose, his hand moving back behind him to pull out the whip.
 
"We're all animals to them, cat." Came his grunted reply as he drug a dirty hand down his face. After the fight with that thing he felt in severe need of a washing, some heavy scrubbing too. He could only imagine how her insides felt, even after taking the medicine. "No one's managed an escape. An' if they have, they wouldn't let us know about it. Those that keep trying, are killed. And since you're my partner, you screw up. I die." The tone was grim as he never let his eyes wander from the cat as he spoke, at least until the bulk of the bumbling brothers came back.

The two stood on either side of the cage, eyeing the pair within. A stupid grin on either of their faces, a problem Tarsus wanted to rectify too quickly. The glimmer in the gladiator's eye was met with a sudden crack and lash of the whip from the one he couldn't see.

That he hadn't expected. What made it worse was the irony of it being a cat-of-nine-tails, bits of sharp metal attached on the end, or in this case, glass, though he wasn't quite sure as it tore across his face. A cry of surprise left his mouth as he clutched his face with one hand and reached for a weapon that wasn't there.

"You idyoot! If ya' go an' blind him then the bawss is gonna tan our hides!"
"They were talking about escapin'!" His retort was met with a sudden thunk on the head and a yank of the whip away to keep the oaf from using it again. Soon the pair left to gather a pack beast, an ugly thing that was all leg and even more mouth, a colossal iron muzzle on it to keep it's maw shut while they hooked it to the cart.

Now the gladiator lay on his back, holding his face with fire burning in his left eye. Briefly lifting his hand the wound wouldn't blind him, but it had torn and cut his face from forehead to chin rather deeply. In a hissed whisper he looked to Esha with that one eye. "Fine. We'll try."
 
Esha had watched them approach but only warily eyed the whip. For being cumbersome oafs they were quick to move, an arm lashing out with a loud crack and a cry of pain from the human caged with her. So quick was the lash that she didn’t have much time to react. The feline jerked back and coiled herself against the back of the cage, her orange eyes wide as she darted them to Tarsus. Pain and anger took over his eyes as the smell of blood hinted in the air. She worried he’d just been blinded but from her alpha warrior she knew that didn’t mean he was weakened. Still in these conditions an infection would be fatal. She growled as the lumbering dimwits argued and shuffled off.

Esha waited till they left to speak to him again. Realizing how dangerous it could be to speak again about escape unless they were completely alone. Moving slightly towards him she tried to look at the damage. She winced as he lifted his hand, the cut was deep and long. Guilt hit her like an elk stag and she could only feel a moment of compassion for him at the moment. She briefly looked for something to give him to staunch the blood flow but obviously came up empty. She nodded to his words but didn’t dare speak should the two brutes turn their attention to the beast they were moving.

Hours passed but Esha remained quiet for the remainder of the time. She had curled her knees to her chest with her arms wrapped around them as she waited. Every now and then she looked over at the human locked with her. Asking Tarsus if he alright was redundant. His wound didn’t look alright and it had been her fault that he’d gotten it. She had started to numb out the sounds of combat, only paying attention to when someone came too close to their cage. Eventually three familiar forms started to make their way towards the cage. Hissing in defense as they approached. “Made good coin today.” He rambled on to his lackies as he sauntered his way to the cage. But upon seeing Tarsus’ face he froze.

His first response was to eye the feline in the cage with him. “Tha hell you do to him?! Ya didn’t try to git frisky with the kitty did you Tarry boy?” He laughed tauntingly, unaware that Steve have been the one to nearly blind his prized warrior. “I didn’t do anything to him.” Esha replied coldly. Her voice seething with hatred. “Your ogres did that.” That stopped the laugh from the dwarf. He turned to look at the much bigger men with fire in his beady eyes. He expected an explaination.
 
The pain had eventually grown to a dull throbbing as the blood dries quickly in the dry heat of the day, at least their cage was covered and a constant breeze kept him cool. Naturally it made his face swell from the wound, though not nearly as bad as it could've been. Every so often his face lay against the iron bars for the meager relief they offered. Even so he let his eyes meet hers during the passing time, blame couldn't be laid against her for now. So he felt no animosity despite the crippling silence.

Sounds of the familiar dwarf coming closer brought his attention up finally, wanting to doze in the heat was normal for him. The comment made him chuckle at least, it would've been quite the excuse. Even the oafs chuckled at it, though their tune rapidly changed as the dwarf grew irate.

Bumbling and tripping over each other's words for an explanation before the less stupid of the idiot duo managed to speak. "They were talking about scapin'!" It was blurted and surely going to earn them a dock in pay this time for the medical care Tarsus might require.

"The new ones always want to run." The gladiator spoke, glancing at Esha with a neutral look. "Give her time to adjust. Better that then death against a post.."

Protecting her wasn't his motive, more it was trying to dissuade the dwarf from giving either of them further beatings. Perhaps even looking over a bad habit or two for a bit longer. Some tolerance.
 
Fire burned in the beady dwarfs eyes as he narrowed them on his Tarsus. “They?” He questioned looking at the warrior with disbelief. Hadn’t he beaten him enough to get it through his skull that he wasn’t getting free? But the neutral look and his following words seem to sooth the rage building in the stout man. Ironbeard crossed his stubby arms as he looked at Esha, then Tarsus and finally back at Steve and Russ. The still silence was the calm before the storm however and he soon lashed out with his cane, cracking both lump heads in their knees. “What tha hell ya lash him in tha face for you idiots?! If she was the one talking about escaping you should have lashed her!” He bellowed at the men.

The sudden movement made Esha jump in her cramps quarters. Sitting up to a defensive position just in case she needed to defend herself. She had just been wondering why Tarsus spoke up in defense of her though those thoughts were abruptly shut down by Ironbeard. “Tha cost ta fix him is commin’ outta BOTH yer pays!” He bellowed as he gripped his cane as he turned back to his pets. “Course they do…” The lingering of his word were the gears in his head moving. The protection Tarsus cast on the cat was not lost on the dwarf. However that didn’t save her from punishment. “But..” He started as he pulled some type of liquid from his satchel. A bottle of moonshine. Shuffling to a bucket he poured the substance in. “She still needs to learn that there be no escaping. That I OWN her now.”

Tarsus would see it coming as this was something that he’d done before to him. The moonshine was more than Ironbeards favored drink. It also cleaned wounds. But most of all it felt like acid, burning rather painfully when poured onto a wound. Esha of course was clueless but still defensive as he walked towards the cage, eyeing her with intent. She hissed deeply but was quickly silenced as he threw the bucket onto her. Her hisses turned to gasps and screams of pain as the moonshine soaked into the lash wounds she got previously. Like a wild animal she panicked and tried desperately trying to get the vile smelling burning liquid off her but it only made it worse. Wild orange eyes darted to the dwarf as she gasped and trembled in pain. She lunged at the dwarf in vain yowling like a pissed off cougar as she tried to land a swipe on him. But Ironbeard was just out of reach, laughing. “You gotta soft spot her. I can see it. So I’ll make you a deal. You tame her, or I will.” He warned Tarsus.
 
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It was almost comical how both men instantly seized their knees to try and stave off the growing bruises that would form there, what wasn't comical was seeing that irate dwarf pull out the flask. Not the first time someone had been doused in the stuff, Tarsus' knew it's burn far too well and tensed up at the recollection of memory. All of his muscles coiled and flexed as he adjusted how he sat, waiting for the inevitable burn and imagined hissing of the clear liquid hitting the gash upon his forehead.

When that bucket was filled and picked up Tarsus knew what was coming, steeling his nerves and gritting his teeth against it. The splash didn't impact him but instead it was Esha, he'd have let off a sigh of relief had it not caused her to writhe and scream, not the worst agony he'd seen someone in, but it was different when they were to be someone you needed to survive.

The murderous look never made it to the dwarf, if it did he'd likely earn a splash in the face as well. Instead his bare knees slid against the wooden floor, earning him a few splinters in the process, as he got across the enclosure to the catkin. "Quit strugglin'. You're making it worse!" The first attempt nearly lost him his eye as the shifter flailed. Tarsus' second had him pushing the mixture of water and booze off her back, like wicking the water off oneself after a bath. That process got much of it off, but wouldn't sate the burn at all.

The work needed to tame her wouldn't be easy, and as the droplets that spattered his face and began to burn on his own wound he knew, if she could keep fighting then so could he.
 
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