No justice here, no liberty, no reason, no blame
There's no cause to taint the sweetest taste of blood
And greetings from the nation as we shake the hands of time
They're taking their ovations
The vultures stay behind.
There's no cause to taint the sweetest taste of blood
And greetings from the nation as we shake the hands of time
They're taking their ovations
The vultures stay behind.
— Tom Waits, Bone Machine, "In The Colosseum"
You honor the arena with your combat. May your swords and shield preserve the peace.
— Raanu, BIONICLE
Never had so much blood drenched the arena. How could this be followed? The crowd cried out for more. There could be no end to the spectacle now. Then Lelith herself strode into the arena. The crowd hushed at the very sight of her beauty and elegance. Her flesh bared as if to taunt the blade to draw her blood. Her hair loose as if to tempt her adversary to grip it and to strike the death blow. This was the way she liked to perform: so calm, so confident, so cold. The crowd gasped as she brandished her chosen weapons: a flashing of ice-cold silver, the kiss of death. Then the aliens were released into the ring. Not one, nor two, but ten assailants at once. Lelith danced with them, gifting each with a single choice wound. The crowded roared their approval; the entertainment would last long into the bloody evening!
You are now all officially gladiators, and it's my job to whip you into shape so the fine people of this empire can watch you all be killed, gruesomely. Now listen closely, because I'm about to tell you how it's going to be in this hellhole for the rest of your short, miserable lives.
First, I'm going to line you up and shout at you. I'll belittle you, call you a few names, and repeatedly mention how you are probably all going to die. Actually, that's the part we're doing right now, so we're running a little ahead of schedule.
Then you will be allowed to wander the common area, where the other prisoners will snarl at you, steal the peices of bread that are being handed out, and generally act like insecure schoolyard bullies. At that time, one of you will defend a weaker prisoner from said bullies, possibly giving him your own bread. This will create a close friendship between the two of you, most likely with strong homosexual overtones that will not be fully explored.
Later, the weaker gladiator will be killed in the arena, and then you will kill the one who killed him in a big climactic match. Oh, and before I forget, you will remain stripped to the waist with your muscles oiled at all times, for no apparent purpose. See the Oil Steward if your skin becomes dry for any reason.
First, I'm going to line you up and shout at you. I'll belittle you, call you a few names, and repeatedly mention how you are probably all going to die. Actually, that's the part we're doing right now, so we're running a little ahead of schedule.
Then you will be allowed to wander the common area, where the other prisoners will snarl at you, steal the peices of bread that are being handed out, and generally act like insecure schoolyard bullies. At that time, one of you will defend a weaker prisoner from said bullies, possibly giving him your own bread. This will create a close friendship between the two of you, most likely with strong homosexual overtones that will not be fully explored.
Later, the weaker gladiator will be killed in the arena, and then you will kill the one who killed him in a big climactic match. Oh, and before I forget, you will remain stripped to the waist with your muscles oiled at all times, for no apparent purpose. See the Oil Steward if your skin becomes dry for any reason.
Hail, Typhon! We who are about to kill, salute you!
—Vampire: The Masquerade - Clanbook: Followers Of Set
The game is called “Devil Dance.” A living human is placed in a cage with one of these creatures. Our human has with him only a small blade, perhaps eight centimeters at most... Will he survive his waltz with the living corpse? If not, how long will it last? Bets are taken for these and all other variables... We keep a stable of them, these fetid gladiators. Most are turned from the victims of a failed match. Some we take from the street... we pay their families well... God have mercy on me for this unimaginable sin.
—Jean Beart Lacoutour, The Zombie Survival Guide
Constantine: Hullo, I'm from the League Against Cruel Sports.
Papa Midnite: Ah, Constantine. You don't approve of the entertainment? I didn't take you for a squeamish man.
Constantine: Well, chum, seeing two guys beat each other pulp with baseball bats doesn't really turn me on.
Papa Midnite: Nor I. The violence is merely a symbol to release the energy of bloodlust. No more than may be seen in any movie or newscast. Except here, they can smell it!
Constantine: Rough on the actors.
Papa Midnite: Tcha! They are nothing. Zombies. Dead already.
Papa Midnite: Ah, Constantine. You don't approve of the entertainment? I didn't take you for a squeamish man.
Constantine: Well, chum, seeing two guys beat each other pulp with baseball bats doesn't really turn me on.
Papa Midnite: Nor I. The violence is merely a symbol to release the energy of bloodlust. No more than may be seen in any movie or newscast. Except here, they can smell it!
Constantine: Rough on the actors.
Papa Midnite: Tcha! They are nothing. Zombies. Dead already.
—Hellblazer: A Feast Of Friends
"Listen all! This is the truth of it. Fighting leads to killing, and killing gets to warring. And that was damn near the death of us all. Look at us now! Busted up, and everyone talking about hard rain! But we've learned, by the dust of them all... Bartertown learned. Now, when men get to fighting, it happens here! And it finishes here! Two men enter; one man leaves."
—Dr. Dealgood, Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome
"Thunderdome's simple. Get to the weapons, use them any way you can. I know you won't break the rules, because there aren't any."
—Dr. Dealgood, Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome
Kabbu: The Colosseum is MASSIVE! Even the Anthill Palace does not quite reach this scale.
Leif: Such a large building, just to celebrate fighting...
Vi: What's wrong with that? Showing off your cool moves is great!
Kabbu: I guess it'd depend on how willing the fighters are...
Leif: Elizant...we wonder what your thoughts on this building were?
Leif: Such a large building, just to celebrate fighting...
Vi: What's wrong with that? Showing off your cool moves is great!
Kabbu: I guess it'd depend on how willing the fighters are...
Leif: Elizant...we wonder what your thoughts on this building were?
"What happened to my manners? I haven't properly introduced myself. Come on. Follow me. My name is Grandmaster. I preside over a little harlequinade called the Contest of Champions. People come from far and wide to unwillingly participate in it. And you, my friend, might just be part of the new cast. What do you say to that?"
—The Grandmaster, Thor: Ragnarok
"Kneel, lowly dog! You are in the presence of Darkseid! You exist only for his amusement and today you will fight for your life... in the Terrorium! Your killers are among the foulest creations in all of Apokolips! Grown in the Gestatron Labs, fed only the flesh of infant children stolen from the streets and back alleys of Armagetto. Prepare to die at the hands of the Gladiortrons!"
— Granny Goodness, Superman/Supergirl: Maelstrom
