WILL YOU WALK INTO MY PARLOR—

[agogemod]

WHO? Everybody!
WHAT? BASE training, between investigating the fish.
WHEN? Still outside time and space, in the aether between dimensions.
ANYTHING ELSE? Please warn for anything besides physical violence and move to a personal journal if it's beyond PG-13.

I want to wring out your evil thoughts;

I want to eat out your bitter heart

READ THE JHASHCH INFOPAGE.

OVERVIEW

A couple weeks into exploration, recruits receive a bulletin on their BCEs.

@SCOUT | @ALL

report to the foyer at 0600 hours tomorrow for a briefing; it'll be a couple weeks yet, but you're headed to jhashch, circa 382.92

you'll receive a datapack that goes over the location in detail, but we're still acquiring location-appropriate clothing. you'll receive your equipment in full before departure. until then, you've more than a little training to accomplish.

the commander will lay out your regime tomorrow. don't make her wait.

Anyone who arrives early will catch the end of an argument between Grothia, Chiron, and Young. Or, more accurately, Grothia and Young.

If you listen carefully to Grothia's raised voice and Young's collective jeer over Chiron's calm, placating tones, you'll learn Grothia and Young are required to attend this summit, in a show of good faith. And it's a matter Grothia has only addressed with your scout now. She storms from the room in a flurry of white feathers and the crows sulk for the rest of the day.

Needless to say, she is furious. She is not a fan of spiders.


THE MAIN FOYER

The foyer has been overhauled. The walls are dark and impersonal; while not terribly different from their usual steel, they're slick and clean in a way BASE is not, so polished you can see your distorted reflection. And this sterile surface is only a backdrop to architecture reminiscent of the height of the Baroque period: decadent, dark, and sometimes pointlessly opulent.

Many of the rooms are only gently lit, leaving long shadows, and sometimes you might spot movement out of the corner of your eye. It's dark and cool, almost like a cellar, but by no means even a fraction as musty. It's as well ventilated as BASE can ever be. And, while some rooms simply acclimate you to your upcoming surroundings, others serve clear purpose.

Much of the furniture is odd in shape, casting swooping silhouettes and made for creatures much larger and rounder than humans. But what is meant for human use is just as opulent, decked in rich fabrics and carved wood.

A few rooms along the foyer's rim are bright, with large "windows" (high definition screens, much like the ones in your rooms) that display the rusty landscape of Jhashch. It's possible to see various lifeforms wandering the jagged terrain, hyper realistic, though the images will loop if you watch long enough. Sometimes, you might even spot an undisguised Aranean.

Welcome to your training grounds.

TRAINING

All recruits must train extensively in each of the following categories. This is emphasized and revisited again and again, until it is drilled into memory. But this time, it isn't like the shooting and running of the Great War. This is a little more...refined.

However, it's not as easy to tell when you've messed up, so COST has repurposed some Dactly droids. Each recruit will have one droid assigned to follow them; when a mistake is made, it will hurl a glitter bomb at the person and cheerfully inform them, "You have been consumed." 🎊 The glitter is just as difficult to remove as you'd expect.


ETIQUETTE

Etiquette is split into several key elements. Recruits are repeatedly reminded: if your etiquette is poor enough, an Aranean may eat you, diplomacy and goodwill be damned. They take poor form deadly serious.

» POSTURE

Araneans see power in perfect posture, whether sitting or standing. You are always expected to be at your tallest and most intimidating, with shoulders straight back and hands placed in your lap or on your glass or cutlery. It's poor form to turn your face down or away when someone is talking to you; Araneans favor eye contact. It is advised to look at the largest, middle two eyes of an Aranean.

» CONVERSATION

Be interesting; this is no place for wallflowers. Speak with authority on topics you know or, at least, can fake. What matters is confidence, aggression, and dominating the conversation. Recruits will compile three topics that they can speak of confidently at length.

» ENTERTAINMENT

Characters should choose a skill to hone into something presentable in the Court. This can be anything, whether art, music, shooting, sword fighting, etc. Something they can show off and demonstrate, that they're sure they'll dominate in. And note: While dominance and cruelty are powerful in their own right, there's something to be said for anyone who can distract and charm another to their doom.

However, don't go in swinging your hardest. Always keep an ace up your sleeve, just in case.

» DANCE

Like most warrior cultures of the past, Araneans are obsessed with dancing as much as appearance. Their whole purpose is an intricate display of steps and motions and memorization of positions. For people with fewer than eight legs, it is mercifully a little easier.

A little. You still have to learn at least three common dances to satisfy your Dactyl droid.

» DINING

Meals are taken very seriously by Araneans, with a set order and customs that are observed almost obsessively.

• SKULGA: All meals start with a glass of alcoholic drink, chosen carefully by the hosting family. This is to ensure no drink or glass has been poisoned. As such, all meals begin with every guest skulling a glass.


• CURATH-MIR: The first person to eat is always highest in rank. To eat at the same time is to challenge them and attempt to take their place...or that of the food on their plate.


• LAMBRAT: A napkin of sorts, but one you bring to match your outfit. It is tied to the left wrist and used during the meal like a typical napkin. They are usually of very expensive and boldly colored material, which you can use to motion servants without looking at them. You don't want to break eye contact with your conversation partner.


• COLPATHA: A dish that is the first course of every banquet. It is raw meat of a choice cut and presented in a bowl over open flame on hot coals, with appropriate utensils. You have to cook the meat yourself. It is also expected to be something of a spectacle, by doing tricks with how you cook.


• CUTLERY: There are no forks here; only a series of intricate, specially curved knives. And no, you can't use your hands.

» BOWING

Spiders are prone to display. For an Aranean, bowing involves extending all limbs of their upper body and bending at the main knee of their legs, all whilst keeping the upper body stiff and face forward; after all, eye contact is still key. It's somewhat reminiscent of this little spider, though with the raised limbs spread wider, like a ballerina.

For humans, it's more difficult to execute; we have fewer limbs, after all. Instead, both men and women step forward, extend the dominant leg back, lift both arms and bend at the knees. It is, quite possibly, the most precarious balancing act you've done in a while. For men, only one arm is lifted and the other tucked behind the back. For women, well...

» DIPLOMACY

Recruits are encouraged to help each other grasp the art of backstabbing; COST understands it is a nebulous art and carefully honed with time. Better to allow the experts to educate, than to muddle along without that spark.

That said, if you encounter diplomats from other groups, you're expected to conduct yourself as you would around an Aranean...which, unfortunately, includes the Regency.


GROOMING

Araneans are obsessed with appearance, grooming, and presentation, if the etiquette wasn't enough, so it's time for COST to take a ~spa day~. At least here you won't get lice.

Another series of repurposed droids are now your hairdressers, manicurists, and personal groomers. It's nothing truly dramatic and mostly intended to get everyone up to standard, with optional courses in makeup and hair-styling for full banquets and other occasions. Hair can be styled to taste, as long as it's neat and isn't too labor intensive; recruits are expected to maintain it and the rest of their appearance afterwards.

From here on out, no one comes to breakfast or dinner without a shower, their hair done, or nails cleaned. Presenting yourself as a mess is disrespectful and will be similarly as punished.

Also, COST is far too broke to get you actual maidservants, so it's important to remember what is realistic for a single person to accomplish.


LANGUAGE

When conversing with humans, Araneans will speak in a language the BCE can translate, but names will remain as they are. Aranean custom doesn't attribute meanings to names, since so many children are born in a single clutch of eggs. But it's impossible for humans to make the sounds necessary for their language, so Araneans will tolerate screw-ups—to an extent.

There are recordings of Aranean names, pronounced by an Aranean speaker (it sounds like a series of hisses and clicks) and then the nearest approximation by a human, which is middling at best and involves a pale imitations of those sounds.

Here are some examples of what human-spoken Aranean sounds like, to give you a vague idea: Jhashch, Thsh, Chch, Shai, Aythy, Shch.

Also, you should always use a spider's title. Whether a noble lady or lord to the High Queen herself, failing to use a title is a sign of wanton disrespect...or a challenge. Either option is inadvisable when COST is trying to garner respect and curry favor with the royal court.


COMBAT

For general combat training, the gym and armory are open and available. A large mechanical spider sits in the former; Chiron has activated it for the recruits' use. Roughly the size of a male Aranean, its armor is reminiscent of Aranean plate and possesses similar weak points. The most striking of these is the abdomen and their comparatively fragile joints. The robot is unintelligent, but moves as an Aranean does, with agile leaps and viciously quick strikes.

It also fires lasers, which is less than accurate, but pay that no mind.

» DUELING

The rapiers recruits receive serve a purpose. It's time to learn renaissance-style fencing, as they are the standard dueling weapon for the Aranean people. Unlike the stamina building exercises of Gallipoli, everyone will train for agility and precision. This will cover everything from sprints, lunges, when and how to strike human and Aranean opponents, and—most useful of all—how to maintain your balance. Training lasts for three hours every morning after breakfast. It's heavy on leg and shoulder work.

It becomes very apparent why some people spend their whole lives devoted to the sword: This isn't a skill you pick up overnight. Characters who know a different style of swordwork will be better off than those who have never trained before. A poor man's weapon this is not.

Then there are the duelist courtesies and rules:

• To issue a challenge: strike your opponent lightly with an open palm across the cheek.
• To accept the duel: strike your challenger back in a similar fashion.
• To refuse the duel: bow and step backwards.

When a duel begins, the duelists will meet at an agreed time and place. After meeting in the center of the room, they will hold their weapons up with two hands, so their opponent can see no one has tampered with the weapons; after the inspection, they take three steps back while still facing each other, before turning back to their starting position.

Matches last until the first serious injury, rather than first blood. The ideal is to in some way incapacitate your opponent. The droids will be the judge of that in training; they'll shower you in glitter should you lose and cheerfully intone, "You have been grievously wounded."

At the end of a duel, both sides will bow (if able) and then be led—or carried—off the floor, holding their weapons in front of them.

» RITE OF SUCCESSION

There's also the bare-handed brawl, which is the peak of Aranean dueling. However, bare-handed brawls are matches to the death and an absolute way to settle a dispute without killing a whole family. As such, it's the usual method of succession amongst family members.

» GAMING

There are lectures on video games as fine art, famous Aranean gamers and game designers, and pioneers of different genres. But besides thorough education on common terminology, game training mostly consists of, well, playing video games. There is an entire room dedicated to the art, with multiple screens connected to consoles of all types.

The ultimate goal, in the briefest of terms, is to learn not to suck.

For veteran gamers, practice is encouraged and experience with genres you ignore in favor of your favorite titles is all but demanded. Spiders have it all, from shooters to rhythm games to role-playing to virtual reality. As long as it's got that extra bit of violent spice and has a clear winner or loser, it's all good.

So don't be a scrub and play the damn games.


FIRST AID

First aid features a crash course in toxins popular in the High Court. These are primarily neurotoxins; the most popular variety is imported from the people of the Fafnirian System and known as Drip Venom. It is almost always fatal to Araneans, but requires a higher dosage to meet the same effectiveness on humans; if you find yourself poisoned by it, you may very well survive if you administer an antidote quickly enough.

Necrotoxins are primarily used when the goal isn't to kill, but to maim. They're intended to destroy the receiver's beauty and social standing.

Characters will learn how to use the antitoxin injectors in their inventory by practicing with an empty shell and simulating injections in their thighs. The nanites contained within the injectors are powerful and will neutralize most varieties of toxins. They will at least help counter male spider bites (females can inject much higher quantities of venom, which may make a single injector relatively useless) and extremely mild Ymir poisoning.


HIERARCHY

All recruits have their place in the Aranean hierarchy and will learn to weaponize it to the best of their ability. However, since COST is lacking in Aranean senses, this training relies on the identity recruits claim for themselves (though, if needed, you can assume Grothia told them to train in a specific category; she won't have anyone jeopardize the mission).

It is also stressed that there is no guarantee that anything you do or say on Jhashch goes unobserved, whether by Araneans, their servants, or their spies. To an Aranean, everything is about power and displays of power. To be complacent is to be weak and, consequently, prey.

Using the Araneans as a guide, now might be a good time to adopt a false hierarchy you can fall into when "alone" with other COST members. In this framework, female characters of artificial origins rank at the top and male characters of magical origins sit at the bottom, but there are likely more than a few gray areas for members of COST.

But better safe than sorry. In the High Court, there is no such thing as being too paranoid, because these are apex predators who always hunt the weakest first.

READ THE JHASHCH INFOPAGE.

NAV. NETWORK LOGS OOC MEMES PLURK

Comments

Felix | ota

[mcscouty]

i. ETIQUETTE

a - i'm here for your entertainment

[ Aggression and dirty tactics are nothing he's unused to. If that's the order of the day? Hell, he'll make out better among these spider-things than he ever did around people. Maybe that's commentary on him as a person, but he doesn't think so. The spiders are probably just more honest about what really turns the wheels.

That said, being a spectacle comes easy. He likes being looked at, and he knows what he's good at, what to ply in conversation with these guys. Meanwhile, part of the game is artfully engineering other people's failures, isn't it?

So for at least a portion of the proceedings, expect him on the fringes, waiting for an opportune moment to trip you up. Or at the very least to smear someone who looks a little too clean with a handful of glitter.

All for the sake of the mission, of course. Don't hate the player. ]


b - carry on, carry on dancing

[ This. Is. Bullshit.

He's a goddamn ninja when he needs to be. He's stayed alive in fights thanks to his speed and agility. So why are a couple of plodding, boring-ass dances so difficult?

Maybe it's because he's spitefully allowing himself to be distracted. Maybe because he keeps mouthing off, complaining loudly to anyone who will hear about how he didn't sign up for this Renaissance Festival bullshit. But inevitably, he misses a step, or doesn't turn the correct way, and finds himself once again cheerfully covered in glitter by his little helper-bot.

About the sixth time it happens he wheels around on the thing in fury, a blistering string of obscenities rolling off his tongue in the space of seconds. Finally he takes a breath, but it doesn't seem to calm him any. ]

You do that one more time I am dropkicking you for distance, you little motherf--



ii. GROOMING

a - we're painting your trash gold while you sleep

[ Okay, so spider fashion sense is absolutely bonkers. That's a given, right? Half of this looks like it belongs to some japanese fantasy rpg, and he's rolling his eyes before passing over some of the more outlandish clothing.

Getting primped and polished, he doesn't mind. The attention paid to clean up his haircut, to manicure his nails and basically spoil him for style, that he's just fine with. This part was always going to be the more difficult line to walk, because while this isn't to his taste, it isn't necessarily about his tastes. To play the game effectively, you gotta play by their rules.

Which means picking something out of this mess that he can live with.

Lips twisting in a crinkled line of displeasure, he starts rifling through the selection before peering at the person next to him, to see if they've found anything reasonable. It's not like it's a test and this would be considered cheating, right? ]



iii. COMBAT

a - ten paces and turn just for fun, son

[ He's always going to prefer his knives, when it comes down to it. But he's got a reason to want to polish up his skill with a sword when he gets home. Not that he's planning on sharing that with anyone here. So while dancing class was a struggle that still leaves some smears of glitter on him as punishment, he's actually putting some focus into learning this whole fencing thing.

That means watching, at first. But soon enough it's time for him to step up with a partner. He's still got a loose, confident swagger to him as he moves out onto the floor, flashing a toothy grin. ]

So, just getting it out of the way now, this is all a learning experience. No hard feelings when I kick your ass, alright? Alright.

[ Unfortunately, he's as sore a winner as he is a loser. ]


b - invite sent, hop on vent

[ How long has it been since he had an actual system to play on? This is without question the most awesome part of the training, and despite advice to start out with his weakest links, he throws himself first into a few rounds of the first FPS game he can get his hands on.

Of course he cycles through most of them. The puzzle games turn out to be his weakest link, mostly due to being slow and boring and Felix becoming easily frustrated by lack of progress. But he's happy to entertain comers for everything else. Dance games -- better than any of the dances they were learning earlier -- real-time strategy, team matches, racing games, and anything in-between. Everyone needs all the practice they can get, right?

He'll just stick around here for a while, thanks very much. ]

iii b

[byfist]

[ She loses the match. Quite terribly, in fact, obviously her fault in how badly she was playing. Might even be on purpose too, but who knows how having one eye might make that game get worse. Unlike the rest of the recruits, she was dressed in her all-black uniform. Still their Commanding Officer.

But it doesn't stop her pegging the controller at his head when she loses. Hurling it across the room at his head that - definitely on target, at least, depending on whether he gets out of the way of the incoming projectile.

Testing recruits might be the most fun she's had in years. But of course, she keeps her face blank, her tone emotionless and her shoulders stiff. ]

You play like a man. Pathetic.

i b

[doublejumps]

[ It's not as if Genji is that practiced with dancing, but he is practiced in controlling his body, and in enacting complicated sets of movements. The most difficult part about learning the dances is the memorization required to know what order the steps go in. That, and not having a partner to practice with.

Not that there's much in the way of good prospects for that at the moment. When Genji hears another recruit start cussing out one of the droids, he frowns to himself and walks over.

(There may be a part of him that can't help but be bothered when he sees someone abusing anything robotic.)

He approaches the pair, waiting until the man has stopped yelling before he speaks up. ]

Screaming at it isn't going to help anything. May I be of assistance?

ii a

[ergosphere]

[Fashion was certainly not his forte, despite the obvious talent from his mother's side. Kylo had been happy wearing the simplest clothing possible, and chose his later wardrobe based on how it might intimidate people. It still hadn't exactly been inspiring, but it had been functional, and put him apart from all the identical officers of the First Order.

Now, he was trying to find functional and not frivolous, but was mostly sticking to color schemes. He pulled and inspected nearly every black tunic, and had eventually started amassing anything with red trimmings. He stopped when he noticed Felix looking at him, and stared right back.]

What?

[cutlery]

[ Much to Sebastian's pleasure, this new mission seems perfectly up his alley. This is the sort of thing that's as natural as breathing to him, since a Faustian demon is well-suited to the particularities of a vicious noble court. He spends a few days learning everything he can about Jhashch, and he's pleased to find there's very little he isn't already quite experienced in. As such, the curiosities of where they've landed for the time being are all but abandoned, since he instead turns his focus to preparing for the next mission. Or probably more accurately, helping everyone else prepare... ]

i. conversation

[ It's mealtime, so what better time to practice the idea that they should be quite conversational. It's probably a bit of an odd contrast, since already, Sebastian seems to have taken to these strict etiquette standards, but he's still very much dressed in the utilitarian clothing rather than the finery they'll be wearing soon. But still, as they enjoy (?) their meals, Sebastian's eyes are very much on your own. ]

a. his area of expertise

This is a prime opportunity to refine the skill of conversation, is it not? Considering we are to present ourselves as experts of a field, I imagine it important to decide on those topics well beforehand.

[ He takes a sip of his drink thoughtfully, but seemingly still quite natural pause. As he sets it down again, there's a cool smile of interest, and Sebastian nods. ]

I do not wish to bore you, that said. So may I ask first— Are you familiar with Earth?

[ Unless Sebastian already knows you are, in which case the question will instead be "are you interested in history?" ]

b. your area of expertise

[ But as the conversation naturally starts to trail off, Sebastian gestures politely as if prompting. His smile is easy and amiable, but unless you're a smooth talker yourself, you're very suddenly on the spot. ]

So, what about you? Tell me something interesting about yourself. This may be a somewhat direct way of learning about my new coworkers, admittedly, but it is a chance I will gladly take. It is a setting far more allowing of it than muddy trenches, certainly.

ii. danse macabre

[ Trying to get your dactyl droid to leave you alone about dancing lessons is difficult to do alone, so finding a dancing partner might make the process easier. It's the area that Sebastian is probably most happy to help in, since much to his surprise, the dances are already ones he knows. It isn't exactly often he's gotten to use them (such dances aren't quite fashionable in 1889 anymore), but luckily, demons have quite sharp memories. Even if it's been a century or two since he tried the steps, he has the advantage of perfect memory to help.

So if he happens across someone attempting to pick up the steps on their own, he'll quite politely step in. ]

Pardon me— Would you like a partner to dance? It makes it quite a bit easier to learn.

iii. time to d-d-d you know

[ Personally, Sebastian is glad that their next stop isn't all high society. Those blood-thirsty hints appeal to him greatly, and really, he thinks he might actually like Jhashch. Being "prey" may not be ideal, but the challenge of it definitely appeals to him. He's used to fitting into the role of a dangerous lesser, so this is really just a more exciting version of it. But. That at least hardly matters among recruits. It's time for dueling training after breakfast (though as usual, he eats as little as possible), and happily takes to picking up the elegant sword.

After the ritual slapfight, he takes his position and holds up his sword with both hands for inspection. Though as he does so, he does peek past it to look at his opponent. ]

Out of curiosity... How familiar are you with dueling like this?

[ There's definitely a tone in his voice that seems like he's trying to decide whether to take it easy on you or not... But don't worry, he's really not going to. You're welcome? ]

iv . ragequit

[ But if there's an area he's decidedly not experienced at... it's video games. This is the one part that he's not nearly as skilled with, much to his own frustration, though there's quite a learning curve. Even with being exposed to so much more technology in COST, he's still coming from the point in time where steam engines are rather novel. So you have the rather unfortunate luck of being teamed up with Sebastian in a co-op game a lot like Grand Theft Auto V. This would probably be a lot more fun if you weren't playing through competitive modes with the equivalent of your grandpa that barely knows how email works. ]

Ah, dear.

[ It's not the sort of thing you want to hear, especially since your character's health suddenly takes a sharp nosedive as a rocket powered grenade blows up suspiciously near your character. This isn't the first time it's happened either. Is he doing this on purpose? It's hard to tell, since he looks at his controller with a puzzled look. ]

This is... more difficult than it looks.

[ don't let your Gamer Rage take over. or do. whatever is most fun. ]

v . wildcard

[ The usual! Choose your own prompt or plot a special one with me. I'm happy to accommodate any ideas you might have, so feel free to hit me up. Alternately, if there's a particular area (minus the vidya) that you'd like for Sebastian to be a "tutor" for your character, just leave a comment with which one and I'll write a custom prompt! I didn't want to write a prompt where I'm godmodding someone into this, so consider this another option that I need your input on. i'm so not kidding this is his fuckin jam yall ]

iii

[horsepowered]

[Chiron's used to a far rougher approach to swordsmanship - gods knew that fights like this were common enough in his own time and place - but he is not above learning completely new styles. The emphasis on precision placated the part of him that was every part the archer he had been summoned to the Grail War as, and it could possibly help speed mastery along.

He'd have to see.]

This style? Completely new. Swords overall? I taught others.

[Chiron's response is honest and forthright, and he's more than ready to get into it.]

travis touchdown | ota

[crownless]

1. GAMING; i love it when the people go wild for me

[Travis Touchdown is covered in glitter. Like, Edward Cullen kinda subtly shimmering at all times covered in glitter.

If he seems to be upset about it at all, it’s not immediately evident: he’s completely engrossed in the game he’s playing. (And so is his droid, cherishing the brief respite from glitter-throwing.) His eyes are glued to the screen, thumbs tapping and whirling controller joysticks wildly. For what he’s lost in good posture, good manner, good dancing, pronouncing spider-names, and... most of the other Aranean specialties, really, he’s made up for in being a gamer with far too much time on his hands. It may actually be a saving grace if he can’t figure out the rest of the things they’ve been assigned here.

Speaking of. Without looking up from his current training session—]

Hey. Quiz me on somethin’ while I rip this dude’s spine out. [Sure enough, the opposing character’s spine... gets totally ripped out on screen.

Travis’ droid whirrs and raises its arms, uttering a humming noise that’s nearly a sigh of relief. (It was almost out of glitter.)]

2. GROOMING; baby i’ve been trippin off em

Motherfucker.

[Though, between the trenches and now, Travis’ close-cropped hair has had some time to grow out, it’s still been a very long time since Travis has worn his hair this short. He can’t really deal with the unfamiliar, and slightly awkward, length, especially not since he’s also got to look neat too.

He’s skulking around base, hands nigh-obsessively smoothing down his hair and clothes, and checking any and all reflective surfaces that he passes with a scowl resting firmly on his features.

It’s the tidiest that he’s looked in years.]

How much are they expecting me to do without any goddamn hair gel?!

[But it still sounds like somebody got scolded for messiness.]

3. FENCING CATCHALL / FUN #TRAUMA PROMPT; i just want a space with my old best friend

[Learning new techniques is far more his style than anything that happened in the last mission. Though he’s a novice in comparison to those who’ve started with the traditional forms, he’s both a quick and eager learner. And the way that his rough-and-tumble swordsmanship begins to clean up is a sure sign of that.

From the pace at which he picks up the forms, to the light in his eye while his rapier’s held fast in his hand… win or lose, he’s having the time of his life testing himself against robot and teammate alike. Months of being out of his element with COST seem to break their streak at last.

Until training is over for the day, that is.

He should sleep. He should, at least, stay within the confines of his own quarters if he can’t. But sleep doesn’t come, and though nightmares haven’t quite settled into his head, restlessness has gripped him more than it has in years. There’s an anxious energy to Travis as he paces the shadowy foyer in the dead of night, quietly rehearsing footwork, sword strokes, against invisible partners over and over, relishing in the comfortable mindlessness of routine over and over, until, finally, the exhaustion breaks through his insomnia.

It’s a wonder he makes it back to his quarters in time to fall asleep on his own bed. Or, maybe, he doesn’t-- perhaps tonight, he’s found wherever it was most convenient: hunched with his back in a corner, a white-knuckled grip still tightly wrapped around the hilt of his weapon.]

4. WILDCARD; lock me in your cellular, won’t elevate again

[Hit me with a starter of your own! Feel free to private plurk me at smithsyndicate or message me at fyrestone#2955 on discord to plot.]

fun prompt :|

[handsomefoil]

[ The upside of having a map that can locate anyone who's dumb (or confident) enough to leave their location and vitals on public is that he doesn't have to make much of an effort to look for them. Even though right now, it's the dead of night, and yet again another sleepless night. Sometimes he falls into a deep, if a bit anxious, sleep. Sometimes, like tonight, not so much.

He has the map tacked onto a wall. It had been there the day he received it, so even with the move, it had just stayed there. Glancing up at it from his bed and even through the dim lighting, he can see Travis's marker. Something does feel a little off, like he can feel the stirring anxiety from his brother and with a tired sigh he rolls out of bed.

It doesn't take long to find him, and with his own weapon in tow (habit), he makes sure his presence is known as to not startle him. No telling what accident might occur if he did. ]

Can't sleep, eh? I think you woke me up.

[horsepowered]

Dancing
[For most of the etiquette requirements, Chiron was quite fine. Posture and conversation were things he was more than adept at, although the latter was far more powerful than the former. Either way, he could get through quite skillfully, especially if someone asked him about say, teaching theory, in which case he was good for hours and hours at a time. Weapons was fine, and he could indulge in mythology with authority in a way that probably was too close to the truth.

But dancing was a new thing, something he was working on. It wasn't exactly slow going, it was slightly harder without er. Well, more than one person. He looks around, frown on his face.]

Surely I'm not the only person who needs to refine their dancing abilities.

Grooming
"See? This is quite fine, and it saves you work."

Chiron hadn't been used to arguing with anything that was non-human before, and so getting into a spat with the droids was a novelty for him. For Chiron, one of the advantages of being a Heroic Spirit meant that he could manifest and still maintain his appearance from before, which in this case he suspected was useful for the droids. He was exactly as they had fussed with him moments before, and he had flickered in and out of view to test their handiwork.

Thankfully, the droids in question seemed to agree. He smiled down at them. "There'll be a few of us with a similar skill set, so don't be terribly surprised if someone else pulls the same trick."

Dueling
[Rapiers were never Chiron's weapon of choice. He was an Archer, not at Saber, and so that meant his skill was never fully with the blade. But he taught plenty of boys to wield a sword, which meant that he had far more than the basics with him.

More than that though, Chiron was fast, perhaps suspiciously so. Working with dummies, it was clear that for him, this was learning a variation on something he knew deep, deep in his bones, and precision wasn't a struggle either.

In looking for partners to duel against, Chiron always tried to remain friendly and affable in appearance, first asking:]

Do you feel up to a practice fight?

Hierarchy
[This is the one part that Chiron didn't like with regards to the mission. All the cleanliness, the expected manners, that was fine, but the hierarchy was far too dangerous for him. Being made entirely of magic was going to be like walking in with a sign saying PLEASE DEVOUR ASAP! Not good.

So he sits with a page of notes on the hierarchy itself, muttering.]

What would be best would be to have at least three back-ups beyond my primary partnership, just in case something extremely stupid or otherwise foolish should happen.

[He huffs, perhaps more equine than usual.]

And that's excluding all of the bits regarding Ymir...

heirarchy

[dorzalta]

Iēdrosa gīdāpa, [ she murmurs, sewing the pieces of her dress together. She's not one to take from her home gowns, but fashions something appropriate for the court as per what she's read thus far. ] It means 'calm as still water.'

[ Nearby, Irriella clicks at them both. Now reaching the height of Dany's shoulders, the Day-One is far from easy to hide. ]

If one chooses to attack, you will battle. Claim it as a show of strength. A challenge you could not back down from.

John Constantine | dc | ota

[inconstantly]

GAMING

[John Constantine has always been terrible with technology. Back home he's lucky to have a phone most days as he's consistently losing it and his laptop is held together with tape. Only in the past year has he acquired a smartphone and even then barely knows how to use it. He's fine with being adept at vending machines and leaving it at that.

But now the mission calls for video games, and for the first time in his life John holds a controller in his hands as he sits in the middle of a couch. He selects a game closely resembling Tetris. It's supposed to be easy. Anyone can do shapes.

Within five seconds his brick runs into the wall with pixelated blood covering the screen and an almost gleeful GAME OVER.]

Well that's a bit much.

WILDCARD

[Kind of taking it low key since I still have BASE logs going on. If there's something else you wanna do go for it or hmu with plotting!]

prose before bros.

[thingpuncher]

And Midnighter is right there, leaning over John's shoulder with some clean, fresh, filtered bottled water in his hand. He's clean in general, recently showered, hair slicked back, no longer covered in dirt and blood and bruises. Though he did get a nasty crick in his back after trying to fit into a shower capsule with another grown man. Those things are small as shit.

But whatever, he's just that much more in a good mood after killing an almost six month dry spell. He grins, sharp, but friendly. "Your reaction time is for shit."

Dorian Pavus | OTA

[excelsus]

Etiquette

✹ Entertainment

[Dorian is a nobleman and well aware of how most of this courtly etiquette nonsense is supposed to work anyway in spite of the small differences here or there, the mechanisms are all the same. Saccharine sycophants playing at a particular game that the mage had drummed into his head since before he could even speak. There was something about it all that reminded him of his childhood, pain and black licorice, or maybe it was the strict nannies?

Regardless Dorian passes up most forms of etiquette: posture and conversation are given a pass dinner and bowing he gives a modest amount of attention too, just enough to pick up the ticks, but having the foundations he needs little more than cursory details, entertainment was another matter completely. Were they really supposed to provide? It wasn't a problem really, he was a mage and he could do flashy things...he idly wondered how appreciative a bunch of spider people would be of fire balls ricochetting off of the walls?

He'll settle on an instrument that looks vaguely like a lute...lute-ish...something like it, he has a modicum of skill with stringed instruments, particularly the kind you pluck with your fingers...it's all a matter of finding the right notes. He's not a play it by the music sheet sort, but by ear from songs he's heard before, and once he finds the right tune he'll sing. He doesn't do it often, it's not a primary interest of his, but his voice is so smooth that it seems like he's been doing this sort of thing for a very long time. Not that he'll sing in any sort of discernable language, but it is very easy on the ear:]

Tui e mea, e tua, madore.
Omne a rei via ti rei na
Tu rei na do rei na

Tui e mea tua, madore
Omne ore via ti na adore
Tu rei na do rei na

Domna miri solia si da alli.
Domna miri solia si re da mi?
Domna miri solia si da alli.
Tu rei na do rei na

Tui e mea, e tora na adoro.
Omne reme a di re na
Tu rei na do rei na

Domna miri solia si da alli.
Domna miri solia si re da mi?
Domna miri solia si da alli.
Domna miri solia si re da mi?
Domna miri solia si da alli.
Tu rei na do rei na

[Perhaps a song that would go over the heads of their future hosts which is why Dorian stops after just one try at it and reconsiders the fireballs.]

✹ Dance

[That is the furthest thing from a proper ballroom dance that Dorian has ever seen, it was a great deal of hopping about and holding hands. Something fit for a peasant's celebration perhaps, but it had nothing on the intricate steps involved in a proper waltz. If they were going to be forced into this nighmare of merrily gamboling about, then the mage would have no part in it, more than happy to sit back and leave this bleak excuse for dancing up to those who were less self-aware.

In the meantime he's more than happy to criticize the steps or give some appropriate lessons in dancing, not that they would be at all useful...well as entertainment maybe? Perhaps these creatures haven't seen a real waltz in action...or maybe they were incapable due to their spider physiology, who knows. The mage also knew dirty dances as well, but he's not about to bring that into court, not without the right kind of spicy punch anyway.]

entertainment

[byfist]

[ She stands impassive to the whole song - it is beautiful, isn't it? She likes it, Chiron would want her too, to enjoy whatever and whenever she could.

But for the time being: she has their training to attend too. To test and push and make sure her soldiers were up to the task, no matter their backgrounds. He was granted doing better than most. His skills in refinement were not in question at least, even if he had to learn these particular ones. ]

I didn't know it was possible for one of your kind to sing so well. I was expecting to be bored.

[ It's a monotone drag - her face blank. Seeing how he responds. ]

76 | ota

[mylawn]

i. clean up pretty nice (etiquette/diplomacy)

a. [76 does ostensibly clean up pretty nice, all things considered. He’s still looking a little scruffy and exhausted from Gallipoli, but the dactyl droids have done what they could. He doesn’t show much interest in maintaining himself, but after the first glitter bomb he wises up, going through the motions simply because he doesn’t want to sparkle at all hours of the day.

In fact, most of the etiquette training seems to involve 76 going through the motions. It’s clear, on some level, that he knows how to conduct himself in this kind of environment (or at least, an Earth equivalent of this kind of environment), but he lacks any real enthusiasm for it.

And then he’s just. The worst. At the dancing. Possibly an intervention is necessary.]

b. [The most difficult part, hands down, is simply getting this guy to talk. Though of course he understands he’ll have to pick his three topics and speak at length about them, it seems he would largely prefer not to. Same with diplomacy—though he’s willing to offer some tips about meeting with Very Important People (kind of weird that a hobo would know how to do this, right?), he stays away from doing it himself, at least for as long as he can weasel out of it.

It seems he has one fairly effective stalling tactic.]

You can practice on me, if you want.

[Anything to stall having to do it himself.]

ii. a sword is just a very long knife (dueling/combat)

a. [Anyone who has known 76 for more than five minutes might guess that the combat aspect of this training is more in his wheelhouse than anything else they’re doing. Those people would be right, and he can easily be found facing off against the giant mechanical spider, both with his gun and without it. His full abilities are on display here, and he moves like a man half his age and then some, deftly maneuvering around the spider’s legs and staying one step ahead of the laser blasts.

He can’t do this forever, not when there are so many other aspects of training to take care of, but it seems he likes to return to the robo-spider when all the etiquette training gets to be a little much for him.

76 is even amenable to co-op. Doesn’t that sound like fun?]

b. [The one glaring exception, however, is dueling. He’s not completely in the dark—despite the fact that his weapon of choice is a very large gun, 76 is still trained to use a combat blade, and knows his way around a knife fight. This only offers him minimal advantage, however, as a sword (and a rapier, especially), is an entirely different animal. The refined forms are sort of beyond him, making for an altogether clumsy training session as he tries to marry footwork with the precise movements of the sword.

This is something he knows takes years to master—being asked to do it in such a short amount of time is a little much, even for him. Still, he tries, even if the effort is less-than-refined.

It’s not quite as bad as the dancing, but might require a similar intervention.]

iii. wildcard

[I’ll do whatever you want. Hit me up on plurk at whitticus. I’ve complied 76’s spider stats over here in case you have a thing your character is good at that mine is not, or vice-versa.]

a - dancing

[byfist]

[ If this was another occasion, or she was capable of the expression, she might have doubled over laughing rather than what she needs too. He's a model soldier in just about all other ways.

Except for dancing - and he will get worse for this. ]

Unacceptable.

[ She isn't prone to mercy, even if she is glad he knows how to move through most of these motions. There is too much at stake to spare him that. Instead, she waits for him to stop moving in the steps. ]

You discredit me, you discredit the other couriers. I should strike you for this insult but you are not worth my hand to touch you after such a display.

meliorn | shadowhunters | OTA

[verumdicit]

i. ettiquite - bowing;
[ He may be just a knight but he's still part of the court - and while he's well aware that his Queen probably keeps him close because of his past transgression, he's still well acquainted with intricate societies and higher ups. It doesn't means he's familiar with things like strange traditions. Take bowing, for example.

Meliorn has at least mastered that in little to no time. Dancing, too. He's graceful naturally, and something like this, as ridiculous as it looks, requires a surprising amount. Perhaps you're passing him in the hallways, or in the mess hall - regardless, expect a deep bow, eye contact steady and confident. In truth, he just wants the damn droids to leave him alone. ]

ii. ettiquite - (failed) dining;
[ The more the days press on, the more Meliorn most certainly wants to use one of the droids as a soccer ball of some sort. Today is no exception, but it is, in fact, worse than usual. Mainly because he's covered in glitter, the robot following him having (almost cheerfully, he swears) told him he had been consumed.

Give him a bit of time to keep sitting at the table, just to wallow in how incredibly undignified this is. Also about how his food is ruined, but mainly about how he's never going to get this glitter out of his hair. His eyes are closed, and it looks like how he meditates - most likely because if he doesn't reign himself in, he's going to throw a dagger right into the stupid little droid that covered him in sparkles. ]

iii. grooming (himself);
I do not like them.

[ It doesn't matter who's walking by. Meliorn speaks plainly and out of annoyance, sitting cross legged but out of the way, running a brush through blue streaked hair. The disdain is palpable, and if there's a way to feel energy, he has extreme hatred coming out in waves. He's beginning to change his opinion about technology. ]

iv. locked to Arthur;
[ He recognizes a COST member from cards. The other had been playing them, and later on a network post. Meliorn's friends in this place are few in number - two, perhaps three - and it's something he's painfully aware of. Not that he's the sort to make friends, no, but if he's to be bringing back information to the Seelie Queen, a bit of his old self has to shine through. He steps in line with the other the moment he spots him walking down a hallway, matching his pace with ease, hands clasped neatly behind his back. ]

Your friends disappearance must be hard.

iii

[dorzalta]

You will not douse me in this sparkling mess again, do you understand? [ Comes the echoing voice of a clearly vexed queen, her droid and Day-One (as tall as her shoulders now) in tow. ] I said that I refuse to bow. A queen does not bow.

Lady Mother, allow me to eat this creature. [ And that is Irriella, hot on the droid's heels. ] Or remove it from your presence. I am strong, now.

They'll send another. [ Louder now, as they turn the corner. ] And we'll likely be attacked with more of--

[ She stops, both in walking and in speaking, when her eyes fall upon Meliorn. He sits and sulks off to the side, but she just catches what he says, earning a tilt of the head. Glitter streaks her braided hair, her cheeks, sits atop her robes, making black fabric sparkle. ]

I see you've been 'consumed' as well, [ she says to him, by way of greeting. ]

Daenerys Targaryen | Game of Thrones

[dorzalta]

[ Closed starters, hmu if you want an unhappy queen! bubblytangerine ]

Mordred | dancing

[dorzalta]

Dancing is one of her weaknesses, she will admit. There had been no opportunity to practice during her exile in Essos, not even as a girl growing up on the run. The lords who housed she and Viserys had not entertained many guests during their visits--not enough to warrant dancing, anyway--though they were quick to brag of their aid to the Targaryen children. No, and Viserys saw little need to teach her these things when he was far more focused on their survival.

It's a foreign concept, to be sure, and learning these steps earns her many blasts of glitter and happy 'you have been consumed!' announcements from her droid. After the fourth blast, her outraged snarl echoes: "Douse me again in this and I will personally see to your disassembly."

By the time she approaches Mordred, she's managed to wipe most of the glitter from her face. It hangs in her hair and on her clothing, however, and it's clear Dany's in a mood. There's a withering, warning look to the droid who seems to be preparing to blast her again for not bowing, which actually seems to stop the scrap metal from declaring her death.

"Dance with me." And before there can be protests or denials, she's looping their arms together and leading them to the dance floor.

[prizeneck]

I. Training & Grooming - Look at all these chickens!

[Maybe you have arrived at 0600 as ordered, or maybe you have arrived a little earlier than that. Regardless, Mamoru is already there, or on his way, but he's slightly sweaty, hair unruly, the bottle of water in his hand already half-full [half-empty?]. This isn't his "I woke up like this" look, either - the grooming droids did a number on him, shaving his stubble and trimming his hair, as he refused anything too fancy - his reasoning that he would not be able to maintain it, as he can't really check any mirrors, but really, he just felt like he was wasting time. As is, if it weren't for the scar tissue and the shades he wears, he would actually look a lot younger.

He gives you a jerk of his chin in acknowledgment if you look at him long enough, even if a grooming droid starts rolling up to him to ask him to clean up again. Sup?]


II. Here we are now, entertain us.

a. » POSTURE, DINING, CONVERSATION & LANGUAGE - basically sit pretty and ohohoh your way to domination

[While Mamoru easily fits the look of a guy who didn't have a fancy upbringing, rough manner and eating up syllables in his speech, his shoulders roll back and low easily, his back sets to a straight line surprisingly, and his axis remains steady. It turns out that is actually his default and not the opposite. Years and years of obsessive training in Kendo and other martial arts delineated his posture to something that turns out actually useful in this mission.

He still looks like a guy who you wouldn't want to meet in an alley with. If anything, due to the fact that he finds everything just so unnecessary and impractical. He finds rules okay, but there's such a thing as too much. So he keeps complaining about the stupid napkin on his wrist because if anyone or anything suddenly decides to attack or needs some kind of quick motion, it will be a hindrance. While he seems to know what needs to be done and manages to deal with the cutlery with ease, he's already full of glitter because of it.

So you find him twirling one of the curved blades in his easy fingers at the droid, menacingly. Great! Good intimidation skills! it chirps, stopping the rain of flickering confetti over him.

Which is something he's, not so surprisingly, good at - being relatively intimidating. However, when the droid prods him to start any type of conversation that isn't fighting, or when they ask him to pronounce a name correctly outside of the heavy Japanese accent, the rain begins again. Someone help this guy. Or save the droid. Anything.]

b. » DANCING & BOWING

[He... actually doesn't suck at dancing or bowing. He does get the motions right, and there seems to be some actual grace to him - as much as his 6'1 frame allows. He actually can move his body well, and it's easy for him to follow the choreography and memorize it. Apparently, all of those varied fighting styles managed to bring something similar to dancing skills out of him.

That will not make him stop from grumbling about it, though.] Tell me, why is this necessary?

c. » ENTERTAINMENT

[So apparently this court needs some sort of party trick, and sword fighting could be one of them. He doesn't really feel like showing off too much about it, though. He likes playing his cards close to his chest, does not announce or explain his attacks, hell, he barely even speaks when he does fight. He wants to keep some aces up his sleeve - and by the glitter on the floor, there may be a lot of moments where he's going to need them. But, he does need to pick something to show off.

So when he decides on something, he calls on you and guides you to help him practice. I don't really know how to fight with swords, you may say, but he merely hands you a handgun, and walks over to a wall, sword at the ready.]

No need. Shoot me.

III. COMBAT - AKA If this video doesn't make you want to punch something then idk what will, man.

a. » Lana_Del_Rey_Turn.gif

[Mamoru doesn't even try the video games due to the fact that he can't see. Still, it doesn't help that whenever he walks by or past the area where the recruits are training, the droid that scooters behind him decides to shower him in a very steady flurry, covering his back, the top of his head and everything around him with glitter anyway. And yes, because he is blind, the droid even decided he needed a little extra fanfare to the "You have been consumed!", too. GG, man. ]

b. » Dueling

[While the rapier is so much different than the sword he usually carries around, it's not very difficult for him to get the hang of its differences. He is still training to make use of its advantages and disadvantages, though, dueling and exploring the different weight, the way the metal bends and snaps, the way different jabs give you varied intensities.

Still, he's a very quick learner, and finally, the droid hasn't even spewed one bit of glitter at him yet. He's so at ease here he actually feels playful. For my next move, I'll draw a Z on your chest, you may hear. But he's more focused on helping others who struggle a bit.

Old habits.

He presses his fingers - gently, go figure - to your trapezius muscles, guiding them with not much effort, just using the weight of his hands.] Lower your shoulders. You don't want your strength here but in your hand.

IV. WILDCARD

[Anything you want, you got it / Anything you need, you got it / Anything at all... You know where I'm at if you need me! mikefoxtrot and jackuzis#7200 on disco. Here are Mamoru's stats if you want. Happy to work on anything that hasn't been approached yet! He needs help, guys.

Also feel free to prose at me as this is only my default but I'm happy with either.]

c

[thoughtimight]

[ The gun feels heavier in her hand somehow following the request. Dolores holds it as instructed but does not follow through with the request. ]

Um.

[ She tightens her hand around the grip. It's familiar and comfortable, but her mind is still trying to connect the pieces. It takes a moment for her to figure out how to ask what stops her. ]

Why?

Kylo Ren | OTA

[ergosphere]

Etiquette
i. Fine dining, posture & conversation
While it was a part of his life Kylo sought to not only forget, but remove himself from, his mother had been a princess and a senator. He knew all too well the trappings of etiquette, and what it meant to fail in the face of someone whose favor you were seeking. Of course, his screwups had been largely forgiven -- he’d only been a child, and senators had doted on him, expecting him to exceed his mother’s standing if he didn’t follow in the footsteps of his uncle.

All of it was a bad memory, and he’d long since let his posture go to hell and his earnest attempts at pleasantry and niceties had been given up on long ago. Only in combat did he correct his posture, for maximum accuracy and brutal efficiency in his strikes. Currently he was fighting to keep his back straight while going through the motions of understanding the cutlery. There was no point in trying to master them one at a time when they were all connected, after all. Already he looked too wooden while sitting like this, and he didn’t want to have to split his attention when they were actually surrounded by murderous spiders.

One part of this, at least, he was actually good at: the cooking. He was no stranger to be served fine foods or scrounging for game himself, but he did prefer to cook for himself. Colpatha was something he could actually excel at, so he worked on keeping his posture correct while using two knives to flip the meat in a neat arc, without launching any juices on his neighbor.

“Do they expect the meat to be cooked all the way through, or hardly at all?” Did it matter? He assumed, maybe incorrectly, the spiders would like to see their guests eat something that was still bleeding.

ii. Dance
Again, this was another bad memory. The dance style wasn’t quite the same as what he’d known back home, but that had been fairly limited. The galaxy was a big place, after all, and different cultures and different species moved in different ways. This seemed tame and reserved for a race of giant spiders, he thought.

It was even more pointless, he decided, when he first got nailed with glitter after missing a few consecutive steps. That put an end to his patience for the day, already frustrated with playing at proper and poised. Trying without any success to shake the glitter out of his hair with his fingers, Kylo stormed back to his room, where he could sulk about it in peace.

It wouldn’t be his last attempt at dance -- he just moved a bit more slowly and deliberately after his first lesson. The scowl on his face would have to be corrected if he planned on being any good at dancing, though.

Grooming
For years he’d hid behind a mask, glad to hide his face from people that knew him or wanted to know him. He had more than a few vanities in private, though, and leaving Gallipoli had a been a relief… for his hair. The braids had held up well enough, but after weeks of mud and pestilence and lack of showers or anything resembling general hygiene, this was a nice change. He’d spent a lot of time, more than he’d admit, brushing out his hair after his first shower on BASE.

He didn’t allow for much styling from the droid, deciding he wanted it down rather than approach Daenerys again to have it braided. This was easier to maintain, especially since he wasn’t going to be jamming a helmet on his head all the time now.

“Staying clean should be less of a chore this time, at least,” he said, inspecting his nails. It was irritating letting a droid do it, and it would really be a challenge to maintain it. Unless they were allowed gloves as proper dress?

Combat
i. Dueling
Like the colpatha, Kylo had once again found something he could do with relative ease. He took to it quickly, though the initial attempts were haphazard at best. Kylo was not used to moving so lightly, and despite his own regimented work out routine, his thighs were burning by the end of the day and sore the next. That didn’t stop him from launching right back into it, though, adapting his own style to match the new one.

The footwork reminded him of the dancing, and the more he trained for swordfighting, the better his attempts at dance became. Just with the etiquette, he found most everything expected of them bled into one another. It was a lesson to be mindful of, at least.

Half of time, mostly just because he could, Kylo used his lightsaber instead of the rapier. The weight of the weapon was completely wrong, and he had to hold it differently. It was for the sake of transitioning, was what he’d tell anyone that questioned him. It was a terrible choice, as there was nothing elegant or refined about his saber. The hissing cross guards had long since taught him the importance of holding a sword properly, though, and this did help train him for a new posture.

On rare occasions, when he was taking a break, Kylo would observe the others training with a rapier and offer assistance. It was less out of the goodness of his heart, and more because it was painful to watch someone screw up the steps so badly when he thought it simple. Besides, the less glitter in the air, the better.

ii. Gaming
Out of everything else so far, Kylo found he had the least amount of patience for gaming. The flight simulators he’d started with had been exceptionally easy, and after only a few attempts to familiarize himself the controls, he was confident the rest would be simple.

He’d been wrong. When a loss resulted in glitter, Kylo often savagely kicked the machine or threw down the controller, barely containing his rage. It was hard to get better at these simulations when you were blinded glitter and an ever rising sense of failure. Imagining getting eaten by a spider after failing to make pixels perform correctly was just too much.

Eventually he figured out a rhythm: if he couldn’t master one game, he’d go back to the flight simulators, which seemed to calm him down or at least temper his anger enough for him to try again. It wouldn’t be uncommon to see Kylo, covered in glitter, staring intently at a flying a game with the controller creaking in his vice grip.

[ooc: feel free to wildcard as well, and I will match action or prose!]

gaming

[neutronium]

[ooc: he did rise through technological terror, Ren. Hux is gonna wreck your ass.]

"...you know, they aren't going to let you just play the flight simulator, if you are going to play at this. Especially if they find out you've been a pilot." Hux, for his part, seemed to be covered in very little glitter. While he hadn't been experienced with their 'games', technology--he could do that. And while he may not have seen the purpose of some of these games, he had used simulators to perfect his stormtroopers.

It wasn't that different, as long as he changed his mindset.

...watching himself do well while Ren floundered was something special, as well. He was never going to be a true dueler--but this? This he could do. It required a fast mind, fast fingers: he had those.

He wanted to say something about Kylo abusing the controllers, and how he probably shouldn't...but he refrained, for now.

"What game are you struggling with the most? Perhaps I can assist."

kel cheris | ota.

[bivariant]

[ What follows after her fairly intense network announcement is an early morning, and a long day spent training under the watchful eyes of the repurposed dactyl droids. Neither she ( nor the general she shares space with ) are diplomats, though her visible errors skew towards her quiet struggle with her physical coordination and poor entertainment value outside of her enthusiastic dueling. ]

( I. ) [ Her first order of business is to sort out the issue with her dueling. Cheris puts herself through the motions of the duel, working with the rapier assigned to her to ensure it balances the way she needs it to, that it compliments her shorter stature and reach, rather than hinders her. The longer that she works with the sword, the worse off she seems to become -- her footwork flagging, her swordwork shaky, and the expression on her face grows darker and darker.

Clearly, she's warring with something. ] Stop it. I'm aware that you're the better duelist.

[ This completely takes her out of the duel, and she holds up a hand to her opponent. That'd be you. Is she talking to you? If she is, the droid just shot glitter all over her and announced her demise, but she doesn't seem to be paying it mind this time. But by the way her eyes flick to her shadow, dark and full of glowing, unblinking eyes, she's having it out with the general.

Better now, than later? ] I'm sorry. [ NOW, she's looking at you! ] Could we begin again?

( II. ) [ Cheris can certainly skull a glass, and she seems to follow along perfectly well with the progression of an Aranean meal, at least until it comes to the very first course, colpatha, where she stands over her cooking meal until it's begun to char and break apart back into the black gelatin that's fed to COST, and she completely blanks out. Mouth dry, she turns mournfully to both her nearest teammate, and to the droid accompanying her: ]

I, um. I know food as a necessity, not a spectacle. What do I do?

[ The dactyl droid knows what to do, for certain -- it immediately bathes her ( and her poor unsuspecting teammate ) with a flurry of glitter. ]

( III. ) [ There is, at least, a stray deck of cards to be found around BASE. Which means that Cheris can indulge Jedao, rather than bickering with him during dueling. While the dactyl droids are cutting her hair and cleaning out the grime from Gallipoli from under her nails, and attempting

attempting

to put a measure of makeup into her hands for her to use ( no thanks. ), she's cutting cards with hands that shake and scatter them across the floor before her, forcing her to bend down and collect them again. Stubbornly, she cuts them again, against one of her thighs, moving them with her thumb and forefinger as though -- oh. She's trying to stack the deck. ]

Do you have a moment? [ As she thumbs one card to her knee, she makes a frustrated noise and the droid accidentally tugs on her hair. She shuffles the deck one last time, and then fans it out between both of her hands: ] Draw.

( VI. ) [ Obligatory wildcard option! Want to mentor or be mentored, hmu. Want a closed starter? PM this account, or PP me @ forzare. Alternatively, just leave a comment and I promise I'll come up with something. /jazzhands! ]

vi / option ii but with clothes

[decisions]

You're missing something, you can't go out like that unless you want something to douse you in that wretched glittery mess.

[ she almost looks untidy with an open neck. there's nothing wrong with it, per se, but percy knows a missing element when there is one, and that missing element is the thing she's so stubbornly tucked into her pocket, half of it hanging out from its length. he reaches forward and plucks it up like he owns the damn place, winding it with a sense of familiarity about it. ]

Lean forward a bit if you would, Cheris.

percival de rolo / ota.

[decisions]

→ O N E / COME ON AND SLAM

[ the music wafting through the air is not a jam.

or a bop.

or anything remotely in between.

if you squint your ears (!) hard enough, you might be able to pick out a slightly discordant tune coming from a separate room in the mock training areas on base. seated at the far end of a room that is apparently serving as a sort of practice room for entertainment is one percival de rolo seated at a harpsichord-esque instrument. sure, percy has other talents he can polish up, but call it just a little bit of nostalgia.

you never appreciate music lessons as a child, not when they're forced on you.

he's recalling some old tune from one of his teachers, and it goes fairly well for a few bars before a suddenly very wrong series of notes eek themselves out of the instrument. it'll go on like this a while, maybe in hopes that somehow he'll catch onto the melody.

no such luck, unfortunately.

by the end of it, there is a repeated chorus of "YOU HAVE JUST BEEN CONSUMED" with every wrong note, and a pop! as the glitter dispenses itself all over him. and to think he was being patient about it too. ]

I get it, I get it, you wretched thing! Stop it -

[ more glitter. ]

Before I take you apart!

→ T W O / [ your dance montage goes here ]

[ if there's one thing that percy does take to, however, it's the crash courses in etiquette, posturing, and dancing. while it's sort of like trying to squeeze back into ill-fitting shoes, somehow percy manages it with a fake, talked-up grace that seems even more obnoxious than usual. his posture gives off an air of something that he'd left behind in whitestone on purpose all those years ago, picked up only now and again to take advantage of how sometimes the noble bearings make a person or two balk.

here of course, it doesn't quite matter as much, but it does keep him from getting glitter bombed, so he'll take his victories where he can score them.

particularly on the dance floor, where he (and you) are practicing one of the few assigned dances of the araneans.

posture when it comes to this kind of dancing, foreign as the steps may be, is not something he wants to really be stuck teaching, but the more steps they get right, the less of a chance of a face full of glitter there is. ]

If you miss that left step again, I'm turning you into a human shield for the next ball of sparkly shit that comes our way.

[ someone's a little frustrated.

alternatively, maybe your dancing lesson is actually going pretty well! world's your oyster. just depends on whether you want it sweet and cute or hilarious and terrible. ]

→ T H R E E / WILDCARD

[ dueling? grooming? fine dining? applying make up?????

hit me up @ shibes on plurk if you want me to write you something specific for a separate top level! ]

2.

[duskmeadow]

[ Percy's frustrated and Vax is too stiff, tense in the aftermath of Vex'ahlia's explanation. He's sure Percy knows. There's no reason for Vex not to have shared Vax's amnesia or inexperience or whatever it was. Vax should be telling Percy himself, but instead he's focusing entirely on keeping from stepping on Percy's feet. The task at hand is a fairly good distraction from the topic he's trying very hard to avoid broaching.

Though that being said, observing Percy adopting what must be an old, well-learned courtly affect adds a dissonance to their interaction that isn't helping Vax's attempt at distraction. It grates. Vax needs the help with the dancing and knows it, but the same urge to leave the room is weighing on him here as it had sitting beside Vex as she'd told him about Emon. ]

You're out of step. I'm compensating for you, Percival.

[ Which is not actually true, but Vax snaps back defensively regardless. There's splotches of glitter down his back, enough so that Vax could probably argue he was already playing the role of human shield between the pair of them. ]

henry cooldown ★ no more heroes ★ ota

[handsomefoil]

Ｉ．IT'S KILL OR BE KILLED____

Henry can recall his fencing lessons from when he was a kid. While it wasn't mandatory in schools, nor did they offer academic fencing in Ireland, he did get a lot of training from other instructors out of country in learning proper form and skills. So, it finally comes in handy for this particular mission, he thinks with some amusement. Perhaps some of the hardest times of his life, it was a grueling lifestyle that was strictly disciplined for a couple of years, one which he was more than happy to leave behind once he had completed his lessons.

If you're someone that's struggling with fencing and keeps getting blasted by glitter, he'll take notice and approach you with a casual twirl of his rapier.

"Need help on something specific?"

Are your lunges not lunge-y enough? Frequently missing your targets? Need a real life sparring partner? He's your guy.

{ or }

While skilled enough with his light saber (and traditional swords), he hasn't done actual fencing in a long time. He ain't perfect. So as he's practicing, he'll occasionally get blasted by glitter. While the glitter itself doesn't really bother him, the abrupt disruption of the sparkles in his line of sight is irritating. He tries not to look too put off by it, though.

"Bloody droids..."

ＩＩ．PHILISTINE____

Coming up with three interesting topics wasn't the difficult part. Coming up with three interesting topics to a race of violent spiders is, however. He knows it doesn't necessarily have to be super riveting, but he can't help but want to impress. Might as well have three tiers of Interesting, just to be sure.

"We have a game on Earth, specifically in the city I had currently lived in until a couple of months ago. It might be quite unsavory and downright immoral to most of us...but may prove to be interesting to our arachnid company."

{ or }

"What's your poison? I'm quite partial to whiskys and scotch, but I like to think my tastes are rather versatile."

{ or }

"Do you believe in the supernatural? I never was much of a believer, but some things I'd seen on my home planet were just too tangible or obvious to dismiss as an illusion or a rumour."

{ or }

"Maybe you can start us off first, if you haven't had the chance to practice with your topics much?"

ＩＩＩ．CASHMERE CANNONBALL____

He cycles through different hairstyles to keep things interesting, but not too much upkeep. A different hair part for one style, smoothing it back on another, and maybe softly spiking it up with some wax for the final look... whatever style it might be, you'll see him obsessively fussing with it in a mirror. The droid helps, busying itself by combing at the back of his head and getting the hairs in place. Buffing his nails. Straightening his pant leg. That sort of thing.

Admire him? Help him fix (or pluck) a stray hair that either of them missed? Make a joke at his expense?

ＩＶ．DISASTER FOR SALE____

Wildcard; there is so much i want. throw anything at me please, idec what. dance, fight, eat-- i got u fam.

I.b

[deem]

Though 9S is minding his own business and generally avoiding glitter, he gets the occasional collateral dusting nevertheless. It's not the first time, and it won't be the last, when he sputters and brushes at his black uniform. Whatever this substance is, it seems impossible to be rid of it.

How he misses his dress module...

Giving up with a grimace that says just how much he appreciates this sparkly mess, 9S turns in time to hear Henry's comment. It's sufficient to make him look at himself once again, though this time, he's looking for something quite different. "I don't see any blood..."

Jon Snow ✥ Game of Thrones/ASOIAF

[northerndragon]

[I stuck Jon's TLs for this log over here!]

Morrigan | Dragon Age

[courtintrigue]

[ Her spiderland mission stat meme is here and you can shoot me a pm or pp gratuitousmagic if you'd like something specific. As always, cool with brackets if that's your pref! ]

[ swing your partner ]

Between her own vanity and the desire to shed Gallipoli as much as possible, Morrigan cleans up nicely. The scent of soap rides her well-scrubbed skin and her fingernails have been picked of all the dirt and grime. Despite stray locks around her face, the bulk of her hair is held up in a way that passes for intentionally artful.

But her chest and arms shine with telltale glitter, her face freckled by the last bomb. As much as she likes shiny things, this is tedious.

Contrary to what her mother told the Wardens, she has not danced under moon in years. And when she did it was with only the creatures of the wilds as company. This is completely different, as pointless as it is joyless, and requires far too much hand-clasping. She has suffered through learning two dances and apparently she is expected to learn a third?

It seems like a shame her droid will not appreciate it when she insists in admirable human-spoken Aranean that she would rather kiss a templar.


[ nerf this ]

Video games are by turns interesting and painfully ridiculous. If there are manuals around she does not read them, choosing to throw herself in and learn to swim on her own. She quickly finds that she can deal with puzzles and rhythm games, even wastes nearly an hour draped regally across a couch and playing a sorceress battling her way through an army of sword-swinging skeletons.

When challenged to a fighting game she goes on a losing streak that stings her pride enough to have her scowling at the screen in front of her and everyone in the vicinity until she starts to figure out button combinations that lead to more powerful attacks.

"Once more."

There is nothing enjoyable about this game, but now that she starts to understand it she cannot leave defeated.


[ kiss of the spider woman ]

Training with the antitoxin injectors is her last trial and arguably the simplest of the day's objectives.

Though she is more accustomed to antidotes one can drink, she understands the need for a quick reaction time when poisons have been introduced to the body. On her first test run she deftly withdraws her injector from a makeshift thigh holster, primes it, and presses the empty shell to the area advised.

Her next run has her repeating the short routine from its beginning, this time on her sitting partner. As her injector meets her partner's thigh a generous sprinkling of glitter from her hair falls over the knees of their pants.

"You have been saved," she announces dryly.

venom.

[duskmeadow]

Like Morrigan, Vax is more familiar with antidotes that come in a bottle or at the hands of Pike or Keyleth. But being poisoned in the midst of a battle is different than being poisoned in the kind of atmosphere they're about to descend into. Of course antidotes are as complicated as the rest of it.

He's glitter-streaked, having been cheerily informed by the droid that he's dead more than once today. Morrigan's contribution is observed and sighed over, but hardly the worst. His gaze flicks to the ceiling, then back to her as he grins.

"My hero," he replies, matching her tone. "Unless I had the bad luck of pissing off a lady."

Which isn't such a stretch, considering the track record he's coming off before his arrival here.

"Care to let me return the favor?"

heine rammsteiner | OTA

[whitehair]

i. ETIQUETTE - best to keep things in the shallow end

►#ENTERTAINMENT

[ Something to show off, huh? Heine doesn't have a lot of skills to speak off apart from what he'd been taught, which involves a lot of weaponry and it's just to wreck general havoc and ruin shit for everyone involved. He doesn't think that's going to go down well, especially here, where they're supposed to be on their best behaviour and gain some favours with these spiders. ]

--Hey, [ if you're nearby, Heine will call out to you, a series of throwing knives laid out on the table in front of him. And an apple. Guess where this is going. ]

Can you go and stand over there with this?

[ can he really do this or is he just bluffing? he's got a big, shit-eating smirk on his face as he says it. ]

►#DINING/POSTURE

[ it's no easy feat trying to train someone who's actively tried to live as freely (read: sloppy) as possible. it's pretty evident in the way that Heine has clumps of glitter in his hair already after only an hour in, the pale hair shining iridescent like he's tinkerbell or some shit. his droid is very nearly out of glitter bombs, or that's what he's counting on, at least. ]

What makes you think this helps with anything?

[ he means how he's currently sitting in the high-backed chair, a scarf tied across his front to prevent him from slouching in any way - it keeps his back straight and his shoulders thrown back, which is probably what the droid intended, but it also means he can't really do much of anything else. After several attempts at trying to reach for one of the long knives laid out (in order) on the table in front of him, he turns for some non-droid help. ]

Pass me that knife.

ii. COMBAT - ignore the smoke and smile

►#DUEL

[ This is more up his alley than the other parts of the training, and it shows in the easy way he tosses the rapier from hand to hand, testing the weight of it. He hasn't really used a sword, though he must have been trained in the basics of it - this blade in his hand reminds him of the sword-cane that the Bishop uses, but more refined kind of steelwork. But heck, what the hell does he know about swords? Nothing much beyond that you use it to cut or stab, probably. ]

So are we gonna fight or not, or do we start slapping each other?

►#GAMING

[ Video games, again, are another one of those things that Heine is confident in, fingers moving dexterous over the controls as he sits hunched over in front of the screen, the previous training on posture completely forgotten. Still covered in glitter that falls onto his shoulders occasionally as he jerks his head, but Heine doesn't seem to care anymore... Until the droid decides he's had enough catharsis for all the suffering he went through, and reaches to prod him onto other agenda of their training regimen. ]

Cut it out before I break you to pieces. [ he mutters under his breath, eyes glued to the screen even as he frowns. is he talking to the droid, or the combat game, or even you as the opponent? who the fuck knows. ]

iii. WILDCARD

[ HIT ME UP IF YOU WANT ANYTHING ELSE!!! dancing? bad table manner bonding? haircuts? fighting the laser spider? some other stuff? i'm available through PM or sdat !! ]

entertainment

[deem]

[9S halts when he's spoken to. He glances at the man, then the array of knives and one piece of fruit, and back at the man again. Whatever this combination is supposed to tell him, he certainly doesn't know, but he does want to be useful to the others. So far the information he's presented with suggests there aren't much difficulties for an android such as himself.

Aside the bizarre concept of being on equally low terms alongside humans, in the eyes of spider-people. No accounting for taste, he supposes]

Um...sure, I can do that. Why an apple though?

closed to arthur.

[duskmeadow]

[ The rapier isn't Vax's weapon of choice. It's light in his hand; it's insubstantial, as if it'll shatter on impact if he isn't careful. It seems to Vax that it's requiring a restrained, mincing approach that certainly won't draw enough blood to end a fight.

Misgivings aside, Vax occupies some middling ground with the weapon. He has enough skill with blades to balance out his unfamiliarity with this style. Arthur, on the other hand— ]

Better, [ Vax tells him, spinning his rapier lazily as he half-steps backward. ] You're just still...

[ Describing Arthur's style is difficult. Vax pauses, uncertain, before shrugging. ]

You're too stiff. Try to relax.

[ While Vax prods at him with a sharp object, because that's relaxing. ]

comes in 100 years late with starbucks

[pointedlook]

[ Rapiers, he's decided, are a load of shit.

Sure, they look fancy and nice, but give him a nice handgun any day of the week over this nonsense. Or something more substantial that doesn't feel like aluminum foil attached to a hand guard. Arthur's been practicing, of course, because he's nothing if not determined to understand all the details of this upcoming mission. He's a point man, details are what he does. Not being moderately proficient in every area is just going to make him anxious. ]

I am relaxed.

[ Okay, maybe not entirely. He can practically hear Eames saying of course you are, darling with that insufferable snicker. Sighing, he drops his shoulders and rolls them, trying to free up the tension that gathers there by default. ]

Why did anyone think these things were a good idea?

Rey | ota, I'll happily match your format so pick anything!

[garbagepilot]

[Dining]

Things are not going well for Rey. She raised herself, after all, and was entirely alone for her whole life, so she never bothered with things like table manners or posture. She would sit herself out in the sand for her dinner, which she ate with her hand, mouth wide open as she chewed.

And then she'd lick the plate, because no one ever told her not to act like a savage.

It's easy to gravitate towards the food section of this, but every single thing she's done so far has earned her a blast of glitter for how wrong it's been. She picked up her food with her fingers? Glitter. Slunched over while reaching for her drink? Glitter.

When she'd bared her teeth in a threat the droid had made a happy little chiming sound, but it had been quickly overwritten by another shot of glitter to the face when she'd started to say something to gloat with a mouth full of food.

Now, though, she's just given up. Her plate is piled up with the raw meats, she's cooking them herself and stuffing chunks into her mouth, and when the droid starts to wind up for another volley of glitter, her leg comes out.

Almost delicately, she shoves the droid over with her foot, watching as rolls over like an egg and shoots glitter up into the air. She's grinning around a mouthful of meat as she watches the glitter rain down on it, and when it declares sadly that she's died, again, she snorts.

"Says you."

[Entertainment]

While it's not something that Rey shows off... well, ever, there is one skill she has for this mission that isn't combat based. It's the one thing that makes the droid shut up for five minutes, glitter cannon finally forgotten.

She's got a pretty good singing voice, it turns out, and the droid seems a little bit captivated as she picks through what she remembers of a folk song that she'd heard in Niima Outpost. There were happy moments there, little celebrations that took place every few years that she happened to accidentally catch parts of, and after she'd heard the song the first time she'd taken the time find out the words, try to memorize it.

Her first instinct was to try to find some quiet corner to practice in, but if it's something she might have to do in front of large groups when the pressure is on... well, might as well get used to it now.

[Dance]

At first, she observes.

It takes her all of five minutes before she looks down at the droid that's been tailing her and says, with no hesitation, "I'm not doing that."

And, of course, the droid can only do one thing. It sprays her with glitter, and she doesn't even try to dodge this time.

"Fair enough."

[Language]

Now this, Rey is invested in. She takes her time, plays each recording and repeats the sounds she hears, hissing and spitting and a little amused to find that it's more aggressive than Teedospeak, but not by much. None of the sounds that came out of a Teedo were very nice, so she feels like she's got a good head start here.

So don't mind her, growling spider names over and over until her pronunciation is just right. Maybe it'll save us all one day.

(entertainment)

[whitehair]

[ heine's not entirely familiar with singing. it's not like he hasn't heard it, of course, snatches of music in restaurants and absent-minded humming, yes, but he's never paid much attention to it; he had better things to do, after all.

Having to come up with a 'talent' to show off is frankly too much of a bother for him so he's just been fucking around, trying out things just enough to pacify his droid so he doesn't get shot with glitter. Things just don't stop, does it? First it was living in the trenches knee deep in mud, then it was some weird space island before he could even stop to wash off the dirt, and now it's off to some place with spiders three times your size. He isn't very impressed with these choices, here.

Rey looking around for someplace to practice in draws his attention, mostly because she doesn't seem like she has anything with her; what was she trying to show off? Despite himself, he's curious.

Curious as to how badly she'll fuck up, maybe, but nobody wants to get eaten by a spider. But then, she could probably hurl them away with her weird magic thing. ]

What are you gonna do?

[ only because he's stuck for ideas. ]

lena oxton ☼ overwatch

[desynched]

COMBAT

like fighting Goliath with a toothpick

[ Lena was one of the most effective agent in Overwatch, the most prestigious peacekeeping organization in the world before its dissolution. Front-line combat, back-line sabotage, one-on-one fights, resolving hostage situations. Her experience is a drop in the ocean compared to some of the other agents' but she approached every mission with an unflinching resolve and a willingness to give it her all.

She's willing to do the same for Jhashch, but most of it is far outside of her skill set.

One-on-one combat with a spider woman who will literally eat her and Lena with only a rapier to defend herself, for example. Overwatch overlooked that potential situation.

For someone used to using rapid-fire pistols, a sword is foreign to her. She can't just stab and slash the way she did with a bayonet back in Gallipoli. No, this is about precision and patience. Oh, and years of experience. No matter how much she practices, she ends up covered in glitter by the end of her training sessions. After one particularly bad session, she snaps at her dactyl droid: ]

What do you expect me to do with this bloody toothpick?

[ The dactyl droid says nothing, of course, so Lena sags and tries to dust some of the glitter out of her hair. ]

DANCING

most importantly: don't forget to smile!

[ Dancing isn't nearly as far out of her depth as the other skills she has to learn. It's all about rhythm and timing, both of which she's quite good with. She takes to it enthusiastically, jumping and twirling with vigor. Lena smiles the whole way through, and her dactyl droid seems to be enjoying the break.

Anyone who seems in need of help or perhaps just gets too close will get a bright grin and an invitation: ]

D'you wanna partner up? Promise I won't step on your toes.

GAMING

windows flight simulator 207X

[ Like most kids from her era, Lena has played some video games. It wasn't a big hobby for her, but luckily some of her skills translate over. She's pretty good at shooters, but loses interest quickly. Lena gravitates more toward rhythm games, dancing her way through the levels of space DDR (despite only having two legs).

But her most impressive skill? The flight simulator. It's not an exact replica of an actual plane-- it's adapted to space travel, of course. But after a few false starts, she's figured it out. Lena glides through asteroid belts, makes perfect take-offs and landings, and even does a few tricks just for fun. It's the one game where she gets a perfect score every single time. This was her bread-and-butter back home, before the Slipstream incident. More than anything, she seems to be enjoying it. ]

WILDCARD

do what you wanna do

( Just drop me a PM or grab me on plurk at starpaths )

dancing... lord

[ryuji]

[Ryuji's got all the markings of a wallflower for this specific training. He's got some moves in him, can keep step in time and even bust out a few tricks, but certainly never with anyone else. Certainly not near a girl. Confidence smashed.]

Uhh... I mean. I don't think my legs can keep up with what you're doin'!

[But he approaches anyway. It's no big deal, right? Right. Stop him, Lena.]

Yo, maybe we can work out a routine or somethin'?

minatsuki takami ( ota )

[jailbirds]

i CONVERSATION

[ Minatsuki is a new face around here, so if this is the first time you're meeting her, you might find her to be quite a charming young lady when you strike up a faux-court conversation. she's polite and articulate; she smiles, bows, and laughs in all the right places. it doesn't seem like an act, either, because she isn't stiff, never hesitates or stumbles — maybe she's just exceptionally lucky and this is her natural element.

and then her pleasant expression vanishes mid-conversation and she groans. ]

Fuck me, this is so boring... [ her droid fires a shower of glitter at her for breaking character and she immediately shrieks at it: ] OI!

ii ENTERTAINMENT

[ something she's good at, huh... lying and fighting are about the only things she's needed in her arsenal since she ended up in Wonderland. even before that, Minatsuki the regular middle school student wasn't anything special. she can fake the etiquette all she needs to, but when it comes to this, she feels kind of — hollow. like she's suddenly realising how many things make up a "normal" person that she's lacking.

so she's talking it out with her reliable consultant: an armadillo that she's holding up in both hands so she can see him face-to-face. ]

Y'know, you're the one that does circus tricks here. [ he squeaks at her: kyuu! ] But you're such a dumbass you'd get eaten in a second if I took you with me...

[ the droid is waiting for her, and she looks at it with a scowl. ]

I'm thinking. If you shoot me with that fucking glitter, you're gonna be the first tin can to feel regret.

iii DANCING

[ this is ridiculous. she's not clumsy, not by any means, and she's always prided herself on being the most agile of her fellow Deadmen, but dancing is just fucking stupid. playing a part is one thing; she can't remember all these steps and positions, the precise posture, and she hates dancing with someone else, hates being touched, keeps flinching away every time someone tries to put a hand anywhere on her—

YOU HAVE BEEN CONSUMED!

the glitter hits Minatsuki in the back of the head and she rips herself away from her partner with a snarl. ]

—Aaaaah, that's it! I'm sick of this bullshit! Come here, you piece of shit, I'm gonna—

[ she lunges at the droid and slams it up against a wall. the poor thing just keeps shooting glitterbombs in her face helplessly and chiming YOU HAVE BEEN CONSUMED! YOU HAVE BEEN CONSUMED! which is doing nothing to soothe her anger. ]

iv GROOMING

[ after all of that, she seems the most peaceful having her hair done in the afternoon before dinner. she sits there painting her freshly-manicured nails in pink while a droid does her braids for her, and the armadillo she's been carrying around is on his back in her lap, squeaking at her and kicking his stubby little legs. ]

I can't pet you, dipshit, my nails are wet. You want me to paint you too? [ she holds the brush up threateningly, and then winces when the droid pulls her hair a little. ] Watch it! Ugh, this would have been better before Doc took my hair.

v WILDCARD

[ obligatory option!! there's nothing for combat here but she's more than happy to fight if you want to practise with her. if you want something in particular, feel free to hmu @ dragonstrike ]

iv

[reillumination]

Use your wrist. [ the suggestion rises from her left. if she turns her head to look, she'll see a young man who is entirely too immaculate to be in here to begin with, idly crossing one leg over the other as he watches the armadillo's squirming. if she's quick enough, she'll catch a temporary softness lingering at the corners of his features, made up in ways that emphasize the blue of his eyes and the subtle downturn of his lips. the droids don't seem too interested in him, beyond the one that gently files down one of his nails — the rest kept too well to be bothered with. if there's a reason why he's in here, it isn't a stretch to say it is because it is — was — quiet.

as he continues, he doesn't glance up to her face. at least, not for long. it's only just long enough to relay: ] And don't pull back, there's enough glitter in here already.

[ it isn't precisely meant to be helpful, but ryo's seen this happen plenty. he's sick of the usual fits people have following the inevitable shower of it and he's sick of it being stirred up by others recruits coming and going to rest against his hair, his skin. it at least seems to... suit him. somehow. go figure. ]

ignis | ffxv | ota!

[cookeries]

dancing;

[ Ignis knows court life like the back of his hand, and even though this upcoming court venture will be much different from his past experiences, he's feeling comfortable with their objectives.

But like any good study, Ignis has carefully looked over the dances and has agreed to partner with another member of the team. He's not much for dancing in the first place, but if it will be an integral part of the mission, he knows it is better he learn as much as he can now. Which, unfortunately, isn't going to go very well. Though he knows the moves, when to turn and when to join hands, he can't see very well without his glasses.

And he definitely steps on a foot. In a group dance. He squints down at their feet when they start the next sequence. ] My apologies—[ And when they turn again? Whoops, there goes your foot again. ] This is absurd.

combat;

a. [ Having to fight with a rapier is not unfamiliar to Ignis, but he finds the weight of it wrong in his hand. He's far more accustomed to daggers or a polearm, something that offers the option of distance when fighting.

If the court favors fencing, however, he needs to brush up. Which may well be why he's accepted a challenge. (Though being unexpectedly hit on the cheek hadn't exactly been expected). He readies his stance, a little too stiff and a little out of practice, but it will do. ] Are you prepared? [ He does not wait for a response, only to see that his opponent has raised their blade before he lunges forward, a quick jab to one side.

He doesn't have his glasses, but if he's unable to procure any before this mission begins, he'll have to adjust and make learn to adapt to everything he does here in training. Good luck, opponent. ( He might miss. ) ]

b. [ Likewise, wander by the gym later and you'll find Ignis fighting opposite the mechanical spider. He carefully dodges the arachnid's swift attacks at first, familiarizing himself with the way it moves and behaves before he darts in to attack, a pair of throwing daggers in each hand. He's come a little too close when he realizes the robot is about to start firing a laser at him, and manages to sink one dagger into the thing, but the laser continues to charge. ] This is a shocking turn of events.

[ Help a guy out? ]

grooming;

[ The Aranean style is certainly bold. Ignis spends his time carefully choosing his attire, every piece selected with a clean, uniform look in mind. He does not want undue attention on him for his clothing, but finding something a little more reserved is proving difficult.

He scans down the line of clothing, when he spots another person trying something on. ] I'm afraid you've gotten it backwards. [ Tunic? Trousers? Waistcoat? Either way, it's wrong. He's helping. ]

dining;

[ While cooking had originally been a skill learned from necessity, Ignis takes enjoyment in the craft now. Taking a small break from training over a meal seems like the perfect way to close a tiring, trying day. Getting used to life at base will take some time, but the idea that he can enjoy a meal with others will provide some measure of peace for them. Or so he thinks.

The raw meat over the open coals gives cause for concern, particularly as he watches some leave their food miserably undercooked. Ignis on the other hand is delicately cooking his, using the strange, curved knives to spear the meat and form a skewer of seasoned, cooked meats. He doesn't need his glasses to get this right, and even flips the meat artfully over the coals.

He offers one of the skewers out to the person beside him. If they are mid-bite, he carefully takes it from them. Sorry, he's doing you a favor. ] You might try this instead. [ It's not a suggestion, it's a statement. And like it's no big deal, he turns back to expertly flip the meats over the coals, a nice sear on one side. ]

wildcard;

[ Find Ignis wandering the corridors, stop and chat at him, or point him in the right direction. Feel free to toss a random starter at me or find me over at cyclical or disco sey#9725! ]

dining!!

[jailbirds]

[ next to dancing and table manners and all that bullshit, this is hardly the worst thing they have to do, and even so, it's just as unfamiliar to Minatsuki as everything else here. she wasn't the caretaker at home with Yoh to look after her; she never bothered to buy ingredients in Wonderland because what was the point, when she could get quicker meals for less CP? but — they have to do this for the stupid mission. so fine. she'll do it. maybe not particularly well, since she has no idea what she's doing and nobody ever taught her basic cooking lessons, but surely she can cook meat on a fire.

or, she was trying to, and then someone took it out of her hands. she turns to Ignis indignantly, and kind of looks like she's about to grab him by the collar or stab him with the knife he handed her or something. ]

Wh— Hey, I was—!

[ —but a droid whirrs behind them at the first sign of her temper, and she freezes in some kind of Pavlovian response after being pelted with glitter for days now. when she goes back into motion, it's like a switch has been flipped — that flash of anger is gone and instead she's perfectly pleasant, sitting in place with a sweet smile and her words clipped, careful, polite: ]

Don't you think that was a little rude, you presumptuous bastard?