Forced Obedience

The water is cold, an icy bite that makes Lelouch's scalp feel like it's shrinking to half it's size. They'd confiscated his Zero costume; no doubt to serve as a some sort of war trophy. He even heard that Suzaku would be promoted to a Knight of the Rounds for this heroic feat of betrayal. Whatever they do to Nunnally better be worth your idiotic sense of justice. He scrubs the rusty streak of dried blood off of his face, avoiding the eye patch he was forced to wear. When his three precious minutes of allowed shower time are up, he ignores the audience of guards and puts on the crumpled heap of white fabric, noticing from the straps that what he was wearing was a straightjacket similar to C.C's. Heavily armed guards seize his arms and march him away, no doubt to his awaiting cell.

I wonder if they're permitted to torture me. The cement hall is silent except for the snuffling of other inmates and one of the guards watching TV, the laugh track not fitting in with their surroundings. Lelouch's stomach gurgles rebelliously, but the last thing he'll ever do is beg for food. An unmistakable reek of urine and sweat covers everything, and the sparse furnishings are almost collapsing. He thinks that at least a few hours have passed, and wincing inwardly as the filthy cement touches his hands he tries doing a push-up but doesn't want to make a fool of himself and sits back down. How the straps were tightened forces him to kneel again, and the cruel floor sends waves of agony through his knees. Lelouch's breath was slightly restricted from the tight fastenings, and he couldn't move his arms very easily. He hated to think of how scared Nunally must be, and his cool demeanor didn't betray how he was nearly frantic with worry. It didn't help how the Black Knights had been struggling in battle when he'd fled, and that was most likely where Kallen had disappeared to. Running out of songs to hum, he was unknowingly succumbing to the sneakiest method of breaking captives.


The guard had abandoned his sit-com and TV static begins to grate on his already frayed nerves, and Lelouch closes his eyes with the hope of maybe getting some rest. But the guards won't hear of it, and they clang the door open and surround him before he can resist; using the shiny straps of his jacket to force his hands behind his back. The guard placed a metal tray of something on the floor with a smash, making sure the smell could reach Lelouch's face.

"Dinner, your majesty." he smirked, making sure the restraints were still doing their job. A few of the other prisoners paced behind their doors, them and the other guards probably prepared to see him grovel for his food or attempt to eat without any hands. A fallen prince is a treat, and they're sure to have vendettas against the royal family. Instead, though his mouth watered at the prison slop Lelouch kept his head up; trying to give a defiant stare through his one uncovered eye. When they didn't get their show, one of the soldiers kicks the tray. Untying Lelouch he gestures to the splattered goop. "Eat it."

When Lelouch does nothing he gets a forceful smack on the back of his head. "I told you to eat it! Now do as I say, or you'll end up like the little girl."

That struck a nerve. "Nunnally... What's happened to her?" Please have her be safe...

"None of your business, scum. Now do as your told and tell me how the floor tastes." His face was forced to the ground by unforgiving hands, and rather than licking it as instructed he closes his lips into a apathetic kiss. Black spots grow on front of his eyes as the straightjacket collar is tightened to almost choking, the spectators snickering at his reflexive thrashes. "What's this? Got some fighting spirit in ya..." He felt hands close around his ankles and the next thing he knew was his cheek being dragged along dirty floor, getting a nice view of everyone's shoes. "Sir Kururugi can take care of you from here." Sure enough, who he assumed to be Suzaku entered the room.

Remembering his former friend's face contorted with anger Lelouch spat out. "How does it feel to be a dog of the empire?" The kick to his stomach was probably the answer.

"Pretty damn good, if it means taking care of...people like you." He finished lamely, rolling back his sleeves. "Now show some respect, the Emperor has requested to see you."

"Trying to get a badass reputation, huh?" Rivalz set down his helmet, carelessly fluffing the blue waves of his hair. "Why else would you join an illegal gambling ring?"

"Maybe it's a better use of my time. Have you seen Rolo..."

On his bed sat a strange orange object, and a closer examination it revealed it to be a blobbish plushie. Lelouch wondered if it was Shirley's, and made a mental note to ask her about it later. Rolo sat at his desk, no doubt to lecture me about gambling. The bright lights and competitive atmosphere did seem appealing, and Lelouch dug around in his dresser, searching. "Hey, Rolo...Have you seen my wallet?" the younger boy sadly shook his head.

"Sorry brother, but the Shirley and I thought it would be best if I held on to it for a while you don't relapse. What's it going to take to make realise this isn't good? You've missed so many classes and everyone's worried about you."

Rivalz didn't help by adding in. "Not to mention just spending about a week in jail-"

With his back still turned Lelouch's fingers brushed a stack of paper bills he kept hidden for emergencies like this. Closing the drawer with a snap he pasted on a false smile. "You're right. But speaking of class isn't that where both of you should be? Rolo?"

The younger boy made to exit. "I just wanted to make sure you got back ok...glad you did."

Smirking to his friend Lelouch tossed Rivalz the plushie. "Give this to Shirley for me."


"It's hers, isn't it...? Your record may be squeaky clean but you don't wanna start cutting class like big bad Lelouch-"

"Fine. See you next period." Shoving the orange object in his bag Rivalz finally left, and Lelouch tucked the money in his pocket, absolutely sure what came next.

Luxurious carpets and dinging machines soothed him, a farmiliar place to let loose. Snagging a drink from one of the waitresses Lelouch emptied it in the closest planter, and grabbing shot glasses from a vacant table arranged them so it appeared he had drank them all. A couple of women caught his eye, no doubt wealthy from the diamonds that weighted heavily on their necks. His long fingers stroked the soft paper in his pocket; something he'd pilfered from a secret hiding place. Eyeing the crowd Lelouch thought they looked like a particualorily dull bunch, for he could spot all the predictable mistakes they were making at their various stations. This was were he lived, excitement fueling each turn of the game. This was the part that required no effort...waiting for his next opponent.