restrained {opened

[Maria I. Sanchez]

Makes me that much stronger Makes me work a little bit harder Makes me that much wiser So thanks for making me a fighter 880 WORDS open~ standard, old stuff that's probably falling off her Hope this is okay <3

Her father had once told her, “Eres una luchador.” She was a fighter. He meant of the days when she was in clothes too big for her - clothes that had been handed down by her cousins - and red gloves that were too tight. She didn’t think he could have imagined this sort of hell. He would be so disappointed in his daughter nowadays. One only had to look at the brunette to know she wasn’t a fighter. It wasn’t for a lack of trying. She knew that she would be punished if she didn’t at least try to get the audience amused. She knew that several of the other mutants hated it, but the petite teen almost wished someone had been kind enough to extend a contract to her. The memories were sometimes nightmare inducing, but they were manageable. Perhaps she could count the number of friends she had on her hands, but she wasn’t lonely. How could she be when Santa Muerte was always there to keep her company? Even when the bigger and stronger mutants managed to whale on her, she was comforted by the skeletal hand that rested on her. That wasn’t to say that Maria enjoyed any of it She hated violence. She hated the arena and hated fighting with every fiber of her being, but she wanted to live. She had to live for the off chance that she’d be able to see her family one day. She wished that she could say that she dealt a blow for every one that was given to her. That wasn’t the case. The Mexican was small - amongst the smallest of all the mutants in size and power. It didn’t matter that they were all constantly and forced into different situations. It didn’t matter that she had a couple of muscles on her; the others did as well. And, whereas Maria hesitated to really knock them down and ensure that the crowd liked her best, it was very rare that the others spared her such a delight. The best she could do was cover her face and kick at the people who drew too near. At least that way, her face would be fine. She needed it to be. That’s how she managed to attract people to her. She didn’t even know who she was fighting. He wasn’t much bigger than her. At least her opponent wasn’t one of the powerhouses of the Underground. She’d let herself crumble to the ground. Sometimes, Maria would lay there and let her opponent think that they had won. Sometimes, she just didn’t want to fight and would let the night go on and remain hungry. Perhaps it was mistaken, but she felt better on those nights than the ones where she won. Still, she was starving. It wasn’t as if she could afford to lose any weight. No one wanted to buy a skeleton. She waited until her opponent was near her. Not until they were close enough to punch her anymore, no. She waited until they were close enough that she could uncurl and tackle them from below. It was easier to climb on top of them and pin their arms down with her knees. This didn’t always work. Maria had plenty of bruises on her back and stomach from where they managed to get out and flip her over to beat her. It was risky, but sometimes it payed off. She supposed she was lucky that this was one of those few times. She didn’t stop jabbing until she was sure that the mutant beneath her was unconscious. She pulled herself off of him as fast as possible, feeling the tremors in her skin. She looked around the arena - not for the guards, although she saw them headed in her direction. There. “Hola.” She greeted softly, eyes wandering around the new phantom-like figures that were standing over the mutant protectively. “It’s okay. I’m leaving now. I won’t be near him again.” She wouldn’t, at least. Not for a while. She let the guards drag her away with their hands wrapped around her sleeves. They had long since been told not to let their skin touch hers. She wondered if they knew why. “You know, I’m really hungry. Do you think that was enough for some bread at least?” She asked the sunken frame in front of her in Spanish, knowing that she was pressing her luck. The guards grunted and tightened their grip on her arms. She tripped over her own legs, but she was lucky. She was standing in front of her cell already. It wasn’t much energy on their part to throw her in. Maria slumped against the wall, her hands reaching out to catch her from falling on her face. Muerte was gone already, as were the figures. As if that would keep her from speaking to herself. “Wait,” She swallowed the dry lump in her throat and turned around to latch onto the bars of the cell. “Wait, please, do I get pan?” It was too late. They’d already disappeared down the hall. She could only hope that they’d come back. She wrapped an arm around herself and leaned back against the wall with her free arm wrapping itself one of the bars.

HAYANA OF CAUTION 2.0