Your motive is first; survival. Second; escape.

Black. Pitch Black. Tani tried looking around her surroundings but not even the smallest glimmer of light nor reflection could be seen. Her body was currently on the floor with her wrists tied together behind her back and her ankles bound together as well. She rolled herself off of her back and onto her stomach where she tried to inch forward, but her forehead was immediately greeted with a cold, metal wall. She stretched out her feet a bit and they too met with another wall. She was trapped, and alone. She would have tried to scream if it hadn’t been for the collar restricted around her throat, allowing just enough air to pass through her lungs without passing out, but not enough to make any sounds. She wormed her body around until she was in an awkward sitting position, her back resting against the cool metal and closed her eyes. It had all happened so fast…

There was a sound of scraping metal and suddenly a stream of light entered the confined space, blinding Tani for a good while. She shut her eyes tightly to prevent any damage to her eyes and heard a couple pairs of footsteps clanging on the metal floor. Suddenly a pair of hands grabbed at her harshly, forcing her to her feet and then pushed her out towards the light. Tripping over her own feet, as they were still bound together, Tani collapsed out of the metal barge and out onto the soft terrain of her new destination. Dark brown mud caked to her blue face the moment she hit the ground as the entire area was soaking wet from the rain. It didn’t take long at all for her to get soaked as well, as the droplets were big and coming down hard. Another guard pulled her back to her feet, holding her forcibly by the neck around the metal collar still locked tightly around her neck and his second hand grasping a rod of some sort into her back. A second guard stooped over to unlock the metal bands that held her ankles together, and with a quick push of a button from the first guard, the end of the rod pressed into her back ignited into a high-intensity array of electricity. Tani tried to cry out in pain as the electrical shock coursed through her body, rendering her numb for a few moments but the guard pushed her forward, forcing her to walk.

She could feel people staring at her, and she knew exactly why. She kept her head down though, avoiding any eye contact with anyone save she might happen upon a certain race that had a personal vendetta against hers. She had been briefed on where it was she was going right before she lost consciousness in the barge, and therefore she knew why she was there. The rain did a steady job of smearing the mud off of her face and chest, though it only made her look messier. Still though, she continued to walk where she was directed; she’d do anything just to not have the guard press that button again.

A few minutes later, the guard had stopped which in turn caused Tani to stop. At first it was because she had thought that they had arrived at wherever it is that they were going, but when Tani looked up she had spotted what looked like a small girl, no older than eight. She was cowering in front of two of the guards, who apprehended her with force and started to strike her. Tani didn’t know what the girl did to deserve such treatment, and frankly she didn’t care. The larger portion of empathy in her heart tugged at her conscious and she could no longer just stand around and watch as the other races in the immediate area did; though some didn’t even do that, walking on by as if nothing were happening.

With the sound of what sounded like a hiss coming from her throat, Tani wrenched herself free from the guard and ran towards the guards with the little girl. Upon getting closer she noticed that the girl was of the Arian race. Light green skin, thick antennae, and known throughout the universe for their exceptional farming skills, a race that her own race was friendly with before their supposed extinction. Tani didn’t stop though, as the guard rose his hand to strike the girl once again, Tani rammed herself into his side, Earth football style and the two crashed into the mud. Her own guards had quickly caught up with her and pulled her back up to her feet. The guard whom she had knocked over stood up, wiped the mud from his uniform, pulled out what looked like a gun from his holster and point-blank shot the little girl through the head. Tani tried to scream in anger, though it was rendered useless and in fact made her feel very light-headed. She was then forced to what looked like a metal pole in the middle of the area and was quickly bound to it, her chest pressing against the pole and her back exposed. The guards exchanged orders to one another until one finally stepped forward with a leather whip with electricity sparking from it. The guard pulled back his arm, and began his assailing attack on the Rhevarian; the rarest race in existence.

The Ebolorians

A race of aliens that have been running an intergalactic entertainment show for nigh on centuries where species from all over the universe are locked in a variety of contests and battles. The species are very large, powerful, and extremely witty. Their numbers are vast and they are the sole masters of the universe and you.

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The Rhevarians

The Rhevarians are an exceptionally rare race thought to have been eliminated many centuries ago. The only proof of their current existence is a single Rhevarian recently captured by the Ebolorians. History tells us the race of Rhevarians lived on a cold climate planet of ice, living underground in vast colonies and thrived as scholars, being the first race to make contact with other 'alien' races. As the Rhevarians are smart, their combat skills are severely lacking. For protection on their planet, they always relied on their devices or technology to do the fighting for them. They have no powers and are very awkward with weapons.

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Humans

Humans are another incredibly rare sight; at least, pure humans are. Considered one of the weakest races in the galaxy as far as mind and body go, the humans were disregarded as ‘trash’ though they seemed to be good at one thing…breeding. The female human was able to carry the child of almost any race, therefore bringing in a slew of entirely new alien races of Humanoids. There have been a handful of pure humans enslaved on the Home planet, though they never usually last very long.

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Humanoids

Humanoids vary from a being having six arms and twelve eyes to a being that looks like a regular human, but has other alien-like qualities. Humanoids are considered the new ‘trash’ of the galaxy as they are not pure blooded in their own race and have pure human blood in there somewhere. Humanoids are the most common of the alien species however, which is why it is rumored that the arena was built to help eliminate the inferior races.

The Ebolorians use a former moon they hollowed out as a sort of a base for their mother ship that is simply called ‘Home Planet’ or ‘Home.’ The inside of the moon is home to thousands of biomes they can manipulate which they use as the arena to house their shows. In the very center a structure was made to hold the prisoners along with a center molten core that is controlled and used as an infinite power source.

There has been no up rise against the Ebolorian race, as the aliens have been able to continue to capture other aliens throughout the universe through government takeovers, taking prisoners of war or even simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Some species however pay them off to broadcast this show to them which they get a lot of support from and in turn don’t get enslaved themselves, so the demand for entertainment seems to be in a higher regard than the freedom of the alien races.

Although its considered illegal, murders of other players do occur and quite often outside the arena, sometimes people would get off easy with being jumped and only temporarily injured or possibly maimed. There is a surgical staff that will attend to those injured outside of the arena, though only half make it through surgery without an infection of some sort.

The lowest ranked are placed in cages and kept in a place known as the 'Underground' which is nothing more than a sewage system with cages of different sizes and shapes lining the ceiling and walls. More often than not a prisoner or two will manage to escape and break into the surface, although frowned upon this actually isn't illegal and underhanded tactics such as this to increase one's rank is encouraged. The overall goal of this city is to work from the Underground to the slums, building your rank and fame within the arena until you aspire to Class S which only has 3 spots. At this point you are able to contest one of the former S class for their spot or challenge all three for a chance at freedom.

Depending on how many fans you had scores your overall level, level and class are vastly different. Level places your approval rating within the audience which can help sway your Class or give you slight benefits during contests while Class is the rank in which the Order recognizes you at. Both can be improved by doing things the audience may remember such as brutal killings, tactical moves or something else that you can use to stand out. Some inmates choose to be very flashy, coming up with titles and fake stories for their characters while others simply view this as a living hell they're forced to live. After each match, the surviving contestants are put to sleep with a noxious gas before being collected and placed into the medical bay where expert technicians will help recover all they can and make sure the vitals are still strong. Contestants viewed as too weak to survive are placed back in the arena in a display of sacrifice, either to some unknown deity or simply for show.

Class C - Standard Prisoners, used to fill bulk in some competitions or simply placed as easy and more longer term matches particularly placed around gruesome deaths and savage-like weapons (ie. pieces of trash as bludgeoning weapons, rusted blades, throwing/sling based ranged technology. Most combatants are encouraged to use their hands. Most range between Level 100-85 with the lowest being a record level 79 who seems to choose living in the Underground claiming 'Down here they don't realize I exist.'

Class B - Slightly elevated, Prisoners here tend to live in either the Slums or a middle district. Some here aspire to become stars and this is the level which separates the men from the boys. More often than not the prisoners will be placed against unfair odds, this level holds the highest mortality rate simply because of the vast amounts of prisoners that attain this rank only to be put to death early on. Those from this level can range from 90 down to 45.

Class A - The 'Pro' level of competitions. These warriors are seen as something between stars and heroes, each have their own personalities and specialties which the Order takes into consideration when picking those of this level. Often those in Class A will be assigned team leader positions on large scale competitions or are regularly subject to brutal situations which focus more on the mental and physical stamina aspect of living instead of pure brutal combat. Unlike the former Classes, one must be at least level 25 to attain Class A.

Class S - The premium level of competition. Although they hold a special place in the eyes of the Order these figures are often kept as quiet as possible to keep a level of mysteriousness about them and to give them the element of surprise against anyone daring to challenge them. Those who've existed in the Prison for so long say this whole system is corrupt, the Class S are severely overpowered and mutated version of long forgotten inmates. Unlike other inmates the Class S hold their own Levels they share with no one which are 1 ,2 and 3 respectively.

Before the competition there could be a wall or chest of just gear and you're allowed to pick 1-3 things and move on. Maybe as rewards for winning you get an extra item or first pick, maybe you get to pick your team or influence who you want on your team

The Games can range from one on one to the death battles, to team group battles of a hundred each that play a brutal game of ‘capture the flag.’

I also like the idea of there being loot in the arenas. Possibly some kind of pod that holds a single item or piece of an item, ammunition or something like that? Maybe the more the Order likes you or dislikes you, they could control what items you get?

I totally think that the supernatural should be implemented, because of course there are vast different races and species of prisoners out there, so to that I say the possibilities are endless. Personally I may give my character a secret or hidden ability that she discovers while being there, but I'm not quite sure yet.

There could be a 'police force' of guards/enforcers for the Prison that could snatch women off the street for the prince or simply for themselves, others may just enjoy publicly humiliating or beating the prisoners.

Name:
Age:
Race:
Appearance (Realistic drawings or pictures only please)
Gender:
Height:
Abilities:
Skills:
Rank:
Brief Bio/History (of both your character and race):
Affiliation (if any):

Name: Ignrak the shunned
Age: 58
Race: Ebolorian
Appearance (Realistic drawings or pictures only please): HAHAHAHAHA I cannot draw for shit, so just imagine one, I'm sure they all look the same because warrior species cloning trope. A bit roughed up, from being beaten and broken for many years before the death games.
Gender: Male
Height: 7'8"
Abilities: Mad strong, but pretty weak for his race. I dunno... I imagine the Ebolorians to be like the Yautja (The predator species from Predator), so overall super-beings that can be overpowered by protagonists and many, many, MANY guns.
Skills: Pretty much the same as Abilities. He can juggle, too. And beat motherfuckers with other motherfuckers. Imagine it would come in handy.
Rank: C
Brief Bio/History (of both your character and race): Generic vat-born soldier, turned rouge, was captured and sent into his species' death games as an outcast. Hates everything his race stands for and wishes for the overall freedom of the entire galaxy. Doesn't know a speck of English, or common, or intergalactic standard or whatever superawesome megalanguage exists in this universe.
Affiliation (if any): Whichever organization he feels like, although generally whatever goes with his opinions. Generic revolution #34546423564713865934685623496, i suppose, or else he's freelance.