FLashback - 'Slate' - Iacon Hall of Records
Jun 1, 2012 11:15:47 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 1, 2012 11:15:47 GMT -5
"Soundwave does not say anything he is not assured of," Megatronus replied flatly, optics steadfastly forward and fixed on the marred floor of their commandeered training room. Certainly not Orion's own, painfully bright optics. "I looked into it, and it appears that he has been arranging the groundwork for vorns without my knowledge."
It cost to enter matches in Tier 3, the level at which all new would-be gladiators entered the Arenas. The first match was, typically, paid in part for by the winnings made or written off by death. Debt was quick to rise, and there were mechs who made their living buying the lives of those so desperate they would willingly fight to the death to earn the credits for fuel. The Syndicate owned dozens of gladiators as a part of their collection of living assets, a necessary evil in the sub-tiers that Megatronus had spent a long time relying on to function. Credits earned in wins were divided between himself and the debt of his life to the Syndicate, forever maintained by the cost of repairs of a modified and fuel-hungry frame, energon and housing.
Owning mechs in the lower tiers was legal - contracts were negotiated and renewed, ledgers kept and polished clean by easy bribes to similarly unsavoury regulating bodies. It was a nigh-impossible system to escape from once ensnared, and Megatronus had made a profession out of acting and rebelling as he wished whilst remaining in the constraints of the Syndicate's power over him.
This escape, this potential freedom that had emerged out of the background to the revolution, was not something the gladiator had yet fully processed. His shoulder armor twitched upwards in a shrug, though his frame remained still. "It is not a straightforward process, and I still have... obligations to fulfill, but..."
It cost to enter matches in Tier 3, the level at which all new would-be gladiators entered the Arenas. The first match was, typically, paid in part for by the winnings made or written off by death. Debt was quick to rise, and there were mechs who made their living buying the lives of those so desperate they would willingly fight to the death to earn the credits for fuel. The Syndicate owned dozens of gladiators as a part of their collection of living assets, a necessary evil in the sub-tiers that Megatronus had spent a long time relying on to function. Credits earned in wins were divided between himself and the debt of his life to the Syndicate, forever maintained by the cost of repairs of a modified and fuel-hungry frame, energon and housing.
Owning mechs in the lower tiers was legal - contracts were negotiated and renewed, ledgers kept and polished clean by easy bribes to similarly unsavoury regulating bodies. It was a nigh-impossible system to escape from once ensnared, and Megatronus had made a profession out of acting and rebelling as he wished whilst remaining in the constraints of the Syndicate's power over him.
This escape, this potential freedom that had emerged out of the background to the revolution, was not something the gladiator had yet fully processed. His shoulder armor twitched upwards in a shrug, though his frame remained still. "It is not a straightforward process, and I still have... obligations to fulfill, but..."