HOME | DD

Description
AN: Written after RPing something with TaintedTamer and xXAngelxFireXx.
Warning for mention of sexual abuse and rape and violence.
Currently unbetaed and unedited.  Sorry for any mistakes.

When he was brought to the arena, he was a slave.  Bought and sold, kept in a small room with four others.  They started to call him Siren, because all the gladiators knew when someone was using him.  He would scream so loudly that every other gladiator would grin and talk about when they get to use him next.

The night he didn't scream was the night he took down the arena's best fighter with a piece of his thin armor sharpened.  He was beaten until he couldn't move, shoved into a tiny cell, and kept there until he was shoved out into the arena, execution by gladiator fight.

All of the bots in the crowd went silent when Siren brought down his "executioners" within a few breems.

Siren's young face wasn't seen again for many cycles, not by the observers or the other gladiators.  So it was a surprise when he showed up in the arena again with better armor and actual weapons.

He continued to fight against the other gladiators, mainly defeating them but leaving them alive.  The few times that a bot pinned him against the ground, the match would end with the mech dead on the ground.

Siren continued to fight in the arena, winning and losing, though his death was never asked for.  Siren had become a favorite to the crowd, especially to the ones that knew how he started out.

The mech knew that his time had come when he was winning more than he was losing, even in fights against multiple gladiators.  So, after he got his next payment, he disappeared.  Slipping past guards, getting through locked doors, no one knew what happened to Siren.

He adopted a new name and changed his armor, going as far as to change his optics and helm.  And then he went back to the arena, watching the fighters, making note of bots that grew in strength and rose up in power, of the bots watching the fighters and in silent contemplation when the rest of the crowd cheered for death.

That was where he met an undercover bot, there to do the same as him.  The bot was friendly and likeable, but each time he made a move closer to the other, the former fighter shied away, never letting a digit touch him.

The undercover bot took him to the Autobot base, to the leader who silently listened to them describe the gladiators, telling him how Megatron became the strongest fighter and had been seen with a crowd of bots around him, talking with him as if they were comrades and not fans.

When the undercover bot was dismissed, Optimus asked him of his own story.  Despite never talking with anyone of this before, something prompted him to tell the leader.  Of his beginning on the streets to being sold at the gladiator arena, and how he was noticed and rose in power.  Optimus seemed rather interested in his description of his escape and how he knew what to do.

What shocked him was when Optimus offered him a position.  A room of his own, unrestricted access, free to come and go as he please.  All he had to do was use his optic for detail to see the gaps that bots can slip through.

It took him a few days to decide, but when he came back to say yes, Optimus simply nodded and handed him a datapad with the information he needed, sending him away to get settled down before he started his shift the next.

He enjoyed the privacy of his room, walls thin enough to hear bots walk by, but strong enough that no one could break in.  He was able to install his own lock program, making it harder for others to break in.  And the military grade lock was so much better than the apartment he had stayed in.

After what had been the first full night of rest he could ever remember, he got cleaned up, got his energon, and nearly ran into a much larger mech.  He tensed, old fears and pains rising to the top quickly, though he was disarmed by the mech's chuckle.

"Sorry," he said with a charming smile.  "I've been trying to catch up with you.  Optimus asked me to help you around today.  My name is Inferno."

Blue optics flickered down to the offered hand, taking it slowly.  "Red Alert."

Description
AN: Written after RPing something with TaintedTamer and xXAngelxFireXx.
Warning for mention of sexual abuse and rape and violence.
Currently unbetaed and unedited.  Sorry for any mistakes.

When he was brought to the arena, he was a slave.  Bought and sold, kept in a small room with four others.  They started to call him Siren, because all the gladiators knew when someone was using him.  He would scream so loudly that every other gladiator would grin and talk about when they get to use him next.

The night he didn't scream was the night he took down the arena's best fighter with a piece of his thin armor sharpened.  He was beaten until he couldn't move, shoved into a tiny cell, and kept there until he was shoved out into the arena, execution by gladiator fight.

All of the bots in the crowd went silent when Siren brought down his "executioners" within a few breems.

Siren's young face wasn't seen again for many cycles, not by the observers or the other gladiators.  So it was a surprise when he showed up in the arena again with better armor and actual weapons.

He continued to fight against the other gladiators, mainly defeating them but leaving them alive.  The few times that a bot pinned him against the ground, the match would end with the mech dead on the ground.

Siren continued to fight in the arena, winning and losing, though his death was never asked for.  Siren had become a favorite to the crowd, especially to the ones that knew how he started out.

The mech knew that his time had come when he was winning more than he was losing, even in fights against multiple gladiators.  So, after he got his next payment, he disappeared.  Slipping past guards, getting through locked doors, no one knew what happened to Siren.

He adopted a new name and changed his armor, going as far as to change his optics and helm.  And then he went back to the arena, watching the fighters, making note of bots that grew in strength and rose up in power, of the bots watching the fighters and in silent contemplation when the rest of the crowd cheered for death.

That was where he met an undercover bot, there to do the same as him.  The bot was friendly and likeable, but each time he made a move closer to the other, the former fighter shied away, never letting a digit touch him.

The undercover bot took him to the Autobot base, to the leader who silently listened to them describe the gladiators, telling him how Megatron became the strongest fighter and had been seen with a crowd of bots around him, talking with him as if they were comrades and not fans.

When the undercover bot was dismissed, Optimus asked him of his own story.  Despite never talking with anyone of this before, something prompted him to tell the leader.  Of his beginning on the streets to being sold at the gladiator arena, and how he was noticed and rose in power.  Optimus seemed rather interested in his description of his escape and how he knew what to do.

What shocked him was when Optimus offered him a position.  A room of his own, unrestricted access, free to come and go as he please.  All he had to do was use his optic for detail to see the gaps that bots can slip through.

It took him a few days to decide, but when he came back to say yes, Optimus simply nodded and handed him a datapad with the information he needed, sending him away to get settled down before he started his shift the next.

He enjoyed the privacy of his room, walls thin enough to hear bots walk by, but strong enough that no one could break in.  He was able to install his own lock program, making it harder for others to break in.  And the military grade lock was so much better than the apartment he had stayed in.

After what had been the first full night of rest he could ever remember, he got cleaned up, got his energon, and nearly ran into a much larger mech.  He tensed, old fears and pains rising to the top quickly, though he was disarmed by the mech's chuckle.

"Sorry," he said with a charming smile.  "I've been trying to catch up with you.  Optimus asked me to help you around today.  My name is Inferno."

Blue optics flickered down to the offered hand, taking it slowly.  "Red Alert."