driftfleet | tug-of-war the undertow

Who: Mantis and all

Broadcast: Yes

Action: Planetsidat the Arena

When: Today

A – Action at the Arena

He carries in a large pole which gets planted into the ground. People cheer him on and boo in equal measure. It is his place. His new kind of glory. When he looks up, the scrap metal pig’s head gleams in the sunlight and he is proud of himself for having commissioned it. It was a small price to pay for the kind of credits he got every time he stepped in for a fight.

At the other end of the arena, he can hear the roar of some strange new beast that has been plucked up out of the ether. He knows not to kill it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t make it regret getting up in the morning. Mantis steps away from the pole and holds out his arms. The swell of the crowd fills his bones, his skin, his pores. He is powerful here. He is the king here. He is so going to like this. Just before the beast is released, he tightens a cut of red fabric around his left shoulder.

The beast is set free. He darts to and fro in the arena and a song of sorts starts to resound as he dodges swipes from clawed paws. This is what people come to see and he is glad to give it to them. Bits of rock and metal around the arena start to fly up and strike the beast without any indication of how they became airborne. It’s angry. He wants it to be angry. After a devastating dive, he leaps up and lands on the beast’s back, holding tight to the back of its head and laughing loudly.

He keeps his grip like this for nearly a minute, his laughter carrying on as the beast tosses itself around, until the beast suddenly slips on the floor of the arena. It falls onto its side. It pants loudly and tries to get up, only to fall again. Mantis is likewise panting as he slowly stands up upon the creature and stares down at it. He scratches the creature behind the ear and looks up at last at his people. He throws his hands up and feels alive as the voices cry out in joy and frustration all at once.

As he half stumbles back to his pigs’ head on a spit, he can hear his name being called out over the speakers in the arena. It isn’t completely okay to bet on himself, but he has a lot more credits than usual waiting for him. Anyone there to watch the matches can come say hello as he collects the pole he planted before the fight and moves out of the arena. Fans surround him and beg him for an autograph, how does he keep doing that, can he teach them…

Mantis, stands in the mass of voices and smiles behind his mask. He’ll be glad to have a conversation after a match like that.

B – Broadcast

Later on, in the day, Mantis is lounging in a rest area for arena fighters. He’s laid out on a couch cobbled together from scraps of metal and fabric alike. Very rarely is he one for being quite so comfortable in public, but he trusts the people on this planet and their desire to protect their entertainment. He waves vaguely at the feed and sighs happily.

“If anyone wants easy money, I win my fights at the arena. They’ll bet on anything in there.”