[h3][color=B2A5D5]Isai Sutor-Armaseptus[/color][/h3][sub][@MacabreFox] & [@spicykvnt][/sub][hr]
Truly, the bombardment of what had come was unexpected. The vulture woman, Deia – [color=B2A5D5]“A pretty name,”[/color] Isai remarked – seemed to place more importance on demonstration of power as magicka cracked and sparked in her hands. Wherever she came from, might made right. [i]Still didn’t exemplify the use of her tongue in undoing the lock, though.[/i] Then the cathay-raht, in his grandiose posture, indeed postured as he pushed his way through the cell like he could part the sea all but confirming the rumors he always heard about prison, that the biggest did indeed seem to run the cell block. He thought might made right too. This “Kiffar’s” size was such a thing of awe that his own words were overshadowed by him, as he had treaded the borders of Anequina, the Rim, and Reaper’s March and but never dared to cross that border given Elsweyr’s conflict with County Leyawiin, and he had no interest in being abducted by a cartel or the Renrijra Krin. During that time, he saw many khajiit, but never came across a cathay-raht in person. If anything, his zoo-like novelty outweighed anything he had to say, as his mastery of language was better likened to one of Skyrim’s giants than any of the well-read alfiqs he had the privilege of meeting. Indeed, at that size, Isai supposed it was hard [i]not[/i] to measure the value of something by its susceptibility to being stepped on or eaten.

Deia, however, seemed keen to interject and saw him just as meal-worthy and dissected him with hungry eyes as much she did for himself, calling his bluff and rising to the open challenge Kiffar had made. One's might measured against another's, and the rightness that would prevail. The way she engaged in banter made her feel more popsy than crone, were it not for her demeanor. Then came the bosmer, and not just any bosmer it seemed, but one from the Deep Green, untamed unlike the wood elves found here in the Heartland. It was obvious to him by the measure of her sharpened teeth, antlered head, scarred and painted, the braids in her wild hair, the animal-derived attire — the whole nine yards. Nothing was missing from the caricature of her people. She had a delightfully savage and wild manicness in her face, as much a predator as the cathay-raht, but she followed him in his shadow like a remora that stuck itself to the belly of a shark. Even so, he wondered if she cowered under his shade, or if the khajiit was but the tall grass for the snake to hide in.

Even a young man from across the cell block, barely a child, seemed attracted to whatever was occurring here with his address to… either Deia or the bosmer, he wasn’t entirely sure, since he seemed he returned to his conversation and story-telling right after. Either way, he delivered some toilet humor that thankfully wasn’t in reference to whatever that initial charlatan said that spurred much of this on. Sure, there was a dirty taste in his mouth, but it didn't taste anything like... well, he didn't really want to continue that assessment in case he was wrong. In any case, the arena event was a world wonder in the right that it attracted so many from around the Empire! And here they all were, crammed in these quarters.

Still, there seemed to be quite a few people out for his head already — quite a feat, considering that he hadn’t even slept with anyone yet. Or talked to most of them. Isai deflated a bit.

Then came a trembling. His own? Heavens, no, surely he’s been through worse. He looked down to see Verena at his side, apparently interposing herself between him and the crowd. He barely even noticed that for the solid minute he spent looking around, watching everyone in his fascination and preoccupation with his own emotional self-inventory, that he barely noticed the homeostasis he felt — that he wasn’t being shoved around by the masses of people anymore. 

[i][color=6B8E23]“I keep my faith in you, Isai.”[/color][/i] She said, [i][color=6B8E23]“You have seen us through the most unusual quarries. Perhaps when we leave this place, I would make us both some eidar cap.”[/color][/i]

Isai paused for just a moment, as if to process what she was saying. Her eyes spoke of a pain not heard in her words. He felt something melt away, though he couldn’t name what in that moment, as he could only think of giving her a pearly, reassuring grin. 

[color=B2A5D5]“Quarries? Ah, [i]quandaries?[/i] Well, no worries my dear. Truly. I’ve always attempted adherence to one principle, which is never to trust how one feels about life after nine in the evening. Look at them — look at [i]us[/i] — [i]all[/i] locked together, but were these cages permanent, they’d have not [i]keys[/i]. [i]I[/i] propose that our differences be seen in how hardship is endured and continue our belief in the carrot before the stick… agreed? Besides…”[/color]

Isai looked over his shoulder toward Deia and the little bosmer woman.

[color=B2A5D5]“...Twas not the first time I was threatened with devourment and, gods willing, it shan’t be the last.” [/color]