Pop Princess of the Wasteland (Alpha and ElitheaBombing)

How long had it been since the world had descended into madness? One year? Three years? He had stopped counting, or maybe it had just mattering. Not long after things had gone sideways he had been deployed along side the rest of his regiment to try and help the civilians, get as many as they could to designated evac sites around the country. Three days after their deployment the government collapsed along with the chain of command, by the end of the second week him comrades had all either turned on each other or abandoned their duty. He was never able to decide which he had hated more.

From there he salvaged whatever kit he could, weapons, ammo, rations, and struck out on his own. He didn't know where he was going or what he had planned on doing all he knew was that he had to do something. It wasn't long before the raiders started appearing, violent and insane, murdering and stealing their way through the bones of the world following the orders of self appointed warlords battling for domenace. He did his best, trying to help people, defend them from the sadists and psychos that preyed upon people. Days turned weeks and the only thing that remained constant was the killing. Soon enough he found himself targeted.

A skinny raider with flied teeth and tattoos covering his face shoved Max down a passage way, "You better put on a good show today chumo." he sneered, shoving him again with the butt of his rifle, "The Queen is watching tonight."

A heavy mechanical door at the end of the corridor screeched open on rusted hinges, the low rumble of an engine hidden somewhere giving way to the roar of a crowd. The raider caught him by the shackles that bound his hands removing them before shoving him through the door.

Max stumbled in the dirt as the door swung shut behind him, raising one hand to shield his eyes from the harsh bright lights. Neon burned around edge of the ring, declaring that this was The Arena.

Max straightened to his full 6'1" and lowered his hand. The raiders had taken his gear, leaving him nothing but a grubby tanktop which left his well defined muscular frame well on display and a pair of cargo pants. His sandy coloured hair as a shaggy mess, tied back loosely with a strip of leather and his beard kept short,trimmed using the edge of knife.

All around him from the high stands people cried and cheered. But for who, he still couldn't tell.

Even before the bombs had fallen and given way to a new era and a tougher, harder generation to follow. Katy had always been known as a bit of an eccentric in a new, and not quite popular form of music that had come to wash over the younger crowds of the day. Her antics on stage, and some of the rumors off stage made her quite the stand out figure during her time, and even more so after the bombs had fallen.

Whether it was the effect of a strange mutation, or just a natural charisma that came to her. Katy was able to attract a large following to the area where she hunkered down after the bombs had fallen, becoming a defacto ruler almost over night. The glitz and glamour of the life she lived may have disappeared before in a flash of nuclear fire but she was now leading a large section of a city that she used to sing in.

Around her the bright neon lights, the music still playing, people going about their own lives as if the bombs had never fallen. Traders, caravans, it all stopped by her small part of the world. And lately to curb the violent tendencies of her subjects she had instituted a new way to punish criminals and slaves, gladitorial games of all different manner.

Above the crowd in the stands below her, she was given the best seat in the house. She watched the fights before, and eagerly awaited the next showing speaking to the various members of her "cabinet" gathered around her.

Quilt was a short, chubby man with small, watery eyes and a flat noes who stood just behind the queen, his gaze fixed upon her raident beauty. Around them the crowd roared and cheered not only in anticipation of the violent specticale to come but because they where in the presence of of their living godess. Quilt inhaled deeply, smelling the sweat from her skin before reluctantly turning to survay the cheering crowd and the man in the pit below.

"They await your address my lady." he whispered to her, his nazily voice stolen away by roars of the crowd, "speak to them, show them your favor."

In the pit below Max survayed the open space around him, feeling his body tense, hec knew something was comming, and he knew it wasn't going to be good.

Katy leans over in her seat to better hear Quilt. Nodding, she flashes him a smile and stands holding her hands upright infront of her. "Quiet!" She calls, giving the crowd and their roar a moment to calm enough to where she can address them. "We've seen quite the flow of blood today, something that fuels us. We've seen mighty fighters enter our arena and fall to our warriors!" Another brief cheer arose as she looked down at the still closed gates.

"Another round awaits us, a final round this evening!" She says aloud, motioning her hand to the closed gate below. "Witness our next challenger!" Katy says to the crowd. "A man caught on our borders, brought here to face his justice after slaying one of our own." Katy says with a big of despair to her voice, all practiced theatrics of course. "Now he faces our warriors again in the arena! Open the gates, Marshall of Ceremony and let him face his death!!" Katy drags out the last word, to the roar of the crowd.

The sudden silence that fell over the crowd was more deafening than the thunderous cheers that had filled the air and for a moment. The change had come so suddenly and was so complete that Max thought he had lost his hearing. But then he heard someone speak, a woman egging the crowd on, promising them his death for some crime. He craned his neck trying to catch site or the speaker but with no success.

The roar of the crowd retuned and it wasn't hard for Max to figure out what happened next. The same unseen motor rumbeled to life and gate opposite Max began to open.

It was at that point after the speech that anyone wouldve been correct to imagine a massive creature lumbering out of it's cage into the sandy pit below. Katy lifted her hand giving the signal to open the doors to the entrances on either side. From the raiders side came something that could almost be scoffed at.

A thinner man, tattooed and jittery walked to the center of the dusty arena. Blood already staining the sand from the days prior fights. A mask, with small eyeholes cut out and tubes running out of it a gentle smoke rising from around the corners of the mask as whatever drug the man was on soaked in. His skin seemed to twitch, his fingers and hands never still as he waited for his challenger.

Max shifted his stance, planting his feet shoulder width apart and raising his hands into a defensive posture. He moved slowly, causiously towards the man who had entered the arena, gun metsl grey eyes never waivering from his target.

Without warning the other msn let out an inhuman shriek and rushed forward, his arms flailing wildly. The crowd surged back to life in a thunderous corrus of cheers as the thin man closed distance. Max's reacton was instant, reflexive. He side stepped his charging attacker with a casual grace caught one of the hoses with an outstreached hand. The man's head snapped backwards, the momentum of his charge csrrying his feet forwards until he was horizontal in the air. Max drove him down to the dust the brought the heel of his boot down on this throat.

A wet crunch reverberted through the arena, silening the crowd.

Katy had seen a lot in the time that she had been ruling these people, and even more so the number of incredible warriors that had come through her arena. She turned to the Marshal of the Games and gave him a nod.
Below the sands of the arena the clattering of machinery reverberated as an elevator to the side of the arena raised, lifting a larger man through the opening as the doors slid open, the rusty metal fighting against the rails that held them. "We will see how he does against something more than a drug addled mind." Katy says to those around her, watching the two below her make their small circles in the arena. The crowd gaining a steady rhythm again.

The cheers if crowd where different now, a steady chant like the beat of war drums. He took it as a que, timing his steps to it as he and the hulking brute began to circle eachother, the opening steps in what would become a violent dance that would leave one of them bloody in the sand.

The combatants came to stop, the steady chanted beat continuing on, or maybe it was Max's own heart thunder the in his ears. The giant lurched forward, arms thick as tree trunks reaching for his opponent's heads.

He was fast, faster than Max would have given him credit for and he was just barely able to duck the grab before taking a quick step forward, driving his fist into his opponents gut.

Which did absolutely nothing.

The Gaint smiled an ugly smile and brought back one arm, backhanding Max hard enough to send him flying several feet back.

The fight was already not going Max's way.

He scrambed back to his feet and rushed forward.

The gaint lurched forward and grabbed for him. He was quicker this time, sliding between the lager man's legs before springing back to his feet and leaping onto his back, locking his arms around that bullneck.

The gaint flailed, like a bucking bronco, trying to dislodge the smaller man from his back but gradually he began to slow before collapsing to the sand with Max still clinging to his back.

Katy frowned as she witnessed the slow battle and the ending that brought about a rather anti climatic death of one of her tribes greatest warriors, she really had expected more out of him.

Katy stood for whats the second time for this one combatant. Raising her arms to quiet her upset thralls. "Weve lost two of our warrior brothers to this man!" Katy cries out, motioning to him in the pit below.

"Maybe perhaps we should avenge our fallen warriors? Maybe we should watch him sacrifice one of his own!?" Katy asks the crowd to a rising call much like a heartbeat within the arena. "Lift the platform!" Katy demands, as thr elevator on e again lifts but this time a man is there with two heavily armed guards.

Chains locked around his wrists, ankles, and a thick caller around his neck. Tugged along into the center of the arena. "If you wish to leave this arena alive, than wash yourself of your guilt against my people with the blood of those who accomopanied you into our territory!"

Max watched as the prisoner was dragged out into the arena the looked up towards the highest seats in the stands where whoever the hell was leading this madhouse was sitting, issues orders to bloody thirsty masses. He had killed plenty of times since the world had gone to hell, taken his enemies by surprise, sometimes in their sleep. But those had been murders, raiders, psychos, the kind of people who killed for fun. But he refused to kill a civilian.

But these screwhead's didn't know that.

He stalked forwards the small group, eyeing the guards quickly. One carried a rifle, an old semi-auto hunting number from the looks of it, the other held the chains in one hand, a sawed off shotgun in the other. He came to a stop in front of the hostage, glancing from one to the other.

The thug with the shotgun gestured towards the hostage with gun, egging Max on to kill the whimpering man on his knees. "You expect me to do this with hands?" he said, gesturing towards the sidearm worn by the guard with the rifle. The two men exchanged looks, unsure how to proceed.

Max rolled his eyes, "If you don't trust me, eject the mag and leave one in the pipe dumbass."

Again they looked at each other, then looked towards the upper stands. Max turned, feeling his boot hit a large rock buried in the sand before following their gaze up towards their leader. He spread his arms to the sides, shouting up towards upper stands, "REALLY! YOUR BOYS TOO STUPID TO DO ANYTHING WITHOUT YOUR SAY SO!? HOW'S 'BOUT YOU STOP FUCKING AROUND END THIS SHIT!?"