Post by Deleted on Jun 1, 2022 8:33:04 GMT -5
KEEL

Power Level: 14,205
Suppression: -
Antisense: Off
Transformation:
None (x0)
Post WC: 1,584
Thread WC: 1,584
Suppression: -
Antisense: Off
Transformation:
None (x0)
Post WC: 1,584
Thread WC: 1,584

An attack on the nobles in the arena had resulted in all manner of states of alertness and security upheaval. With harsh treatment, gladiator lockdowns and strict schedule adjustments were enforced, as information was rumored to involve them in the event somehow. Entire groups of fighters were kept in their rooms, behind barred doors, and the guards had been doubled throughout the Ludus of Lord Lúcuma. There had been rumors that those responsible had been gladiators themselves, or at least a few that were involved, so a high degree of suspicion had been cast toward the servants as a result. Not to mention the state of alert the nobles remained in, especially Lord Lúcuma and his estate. And then there was the issue of the noble's pet Saiyan, the once-prized gladiator who had become a liability...
The small room that was Keel's home was dark, as only the faintest rays of afternoon sun passed through cracks in the rough, rocky wall and he sat motionless in chains around his wrists and ankles. The Saiyan sat on his bed, which was flat on the ground, the padding removed since his return from the arena after the battle against Courge. In fact, a lot of the privileges Keel had been given had been taken away, likely owing to the fact that Lúcuma had lost care of investment in a has-been and troublesome gladiator. The revelation of more Saiyans in the universe, the decay of loyalty, and the standoffish behavior had come to a head, and now Keel's lifetime of achievements had been forgotten, as the fighter was reduced to little more than a tool for whatever final uses Lúcuma had.
For Keel, it was a bolt of lightning, sudden and unexpected, one that changed everything. His life, everything he had been told, the people he knew, the small semblance of status and glory he had carved out for himself, was all gone. He had been escorted from the arena several nights prior, chained like a common criminal, held at stun pole point like some lunatic ready to react, and kept in his dark and cold room - or cell, really - awaiting the whims of a master who probably preferred if the Saiyan just died. It was certainly a far cry from what the once-prized gladiator had been, compared to what he was now, but there wasn't anything Keel could do about it.
I should have tried to escape during the attack, Keel thought, as he looked down to the empty metal plate at his feet. The days food at been dry bread, the instructors weren't even wasting nutrients on him anymore, so he kicked the plate aside with a clatter. If I'd have died, it would be better than living through this hell.
The guards came for him soon after, when it started to darken more. Two, specifically. They had a bucket with a sponge, and demanded Keel wash and prepare. He did as commanded, though the chains made it more difficult, and eventually was cleaner than he had been. A fresh pair of gladiator clothing was thrown his way, typical to Keel's attire in the arena, and he changed as instructed. Eventually the familiar voice of Rimoya was heard, as the old Canistelean appeared with a chest harness in hand; he approached and waited until Keel outstretched his arms, which allowed the thing to be slipped into place and locked.
"You're fortunate, slug," Rimoya muttered, as he pulled Keel's covered hands to his chest and secured them like a cross over his heart. "You get to enjoy some true noble hospitality tonight, even though you deserve a quick death for your insubordinate and treasonous behavior. But, Lord Lúcuma, in all his mercy has held true to his plans to hold an evening dinner with you present..."
Keel looked at the trainer from between his wet hair, which hung over his face. There was nothing but hate on the blue-skinned alien's expression. Clearly Rimoya had made up his mind, much like many others, and Keel was now an outcast of outcasts. There was a sting from being abandoned by everyone you knew, of course, but there loomed a larger threat that began to dominate Keel's mind - that after tonight, after he was used to prop up Lúcuma's status with nobles, there was no knowing what to expect...
"Let's go," Rimoya said as he gave the Saiyan a once over. "The transport is waiting..."
And once on the transport, Keel was left to his thoughts. He didn't know what to think of it all, however, as at present the Saiyan was kind of numb. There was a foreboding sense of dread, as though once this requirement was fulfilled, that would be that, and Lúcuma's full wrath would descend upon him. Or, maybe, Lúcuma would be pleased enough to give Keel some privileges back, and to resume his fights in the arena, so he could die with some dignity... but, really, it was the uncertainty that was the hardest, of not knowing the outcome or decision Lúcuma had in mind.
A nearby voice, opposite Keel in another seat that faced him, brought the Saiyan back to the moment:
"You listen to me, monkey," Rimoya leaned in close, his lip curled in a sneer, as he gave a harsh whisper. "I'm going to be beside you the entire evening. If you so much as look at a noble funny, I will end you. No hesitation."
Keel grunted, as he continued to stare at the transport floor panel. Seemed the old Canistelean wasn't done:
"I believe Lord Lúcuma is making a terrible mistake this evening, especially allowing you any kind of hand freedom to enjoy a lavish dinner at his own expense," Rimoya's words dripped with venom, a hatred expressed that the Saiyan had never seen before, which helped put the magnitude of the situation in the right place for Keel. "And just so you know... my acquisition team is already scouting for more of your disgusting kind. And once this dinner is done, I'll be joining them, to grab another monkey to train to dance for our master."
Rimoya seemed pleased by the reaction, as Keel glanced up at him.
"Something to say, slug? Go on."
With a scoff, Keel merely looked back down with his dark eyes, and resumed glaring at the metal panel in front of his feet. For a few moments Rimoya remained, but then stood and walked to the forward part of the transport, likely to check on arrival time. The other guards seated nearby remained alert, despite the fact Keel wore a chest harness - with his arms chained to that same metal vest, which restricted his length of movement - and his hands were angled toward his own face. That tended to lessen the attempts at using Ki to blast the hand coverings away, for fear of taking one's head along with the attack.
"We're almost there," Announced Rimoya as he walked back toward the group. "Two minutes. When we touch down, all hands will surround and escort the monkey, and then we walk him to Lord Lúcuma's dining hall... all eyes remain on him," Rimoya glanced to Keel. "At all times. No excuses. If he makes any move that isn't given by me, you take him down."
The guards nodded and confirmed, before they stood and prepared for arrival. The pilot of the transport brought the ship down toward the private landing pad of the Lúcuma Estate in a long, slow turn. It was probably to give any guests watching a chance to glimpse the ship arriving from inside the hall of the large manor. Finally, though, the ship touched down on landing struts, and the rear ramp-way descended to allow the group to walk out into the cooler evening air.
"Okay, walk," Rimoya said with a shove of Keel. "I hope you give me an excuse to end you... I really do."
Keel grunted, as he began to walk, the guards forming up around him. They each held weapons, looked alert, and were ready to act. Ahead, more servants - those of the more publicly presentable variety of the manor - opened the grand gates, but then motioned to a side entry for the arrivals. Keel was escorted to the side of the manor, where he entered through a servant door, and was finally brought through the kitchens, however before the group went further, Rimoya called a stop.
"One last thing, just to make sure things go smoothly," The old instructor reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a sedative. "Don't move."
The small jab delivered a mild dose. Not enough to zone Keel out, but certainly enough to make him slow down and feel fog in the brain. The tension, the suppressed anger, it remained - but the impulse to act or think on it had lessened. In fact, Keel's expression softened from the scowl he usually had, and he seemed calmer. When Rimoya was content the sedative was in effect, he motioned with a hand, and had the escorts continue toward the public corridors of the large home. It wasn't long before the escort arrived at a very grandiose doorway, and Rimoya knocked twice, then all waited.
An order came from within to enter.
The large wooden and carved doors opened, and the procession - with Keel in the center, eyes a little vacant and chained - stepped through and into the waiting hall...