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

[bivariant]

I was never the most agile in my class.

[ Ever honest, she admits to it with both a measure of embarrassment and a heavy undertone of frustration. Never the most agile, but a passionate fighter nevertheless - she had clawed her way to the rank of captain by merit and hard work. She was barely able to hold her chopsticks, before she was sent into COST's services. Back into a supportive role among the frontlines. The fluctuation of her social positioning has been jarring. ]

The general's reflexes are better than mine, and we both know it.

[ Her voice, almost a grumble, adjusts to something more mild. A schooling of the attitude, a return to center. ]

Our muscle's memories are at war with one another. He's better, but it doesn't mean I'm not without my pride.

[prizeneck]

[Tilting his head carefully as he regards her posture, finds the fluctuations of her tone in her voice, he frowns. When the BCE dictated her "warning", of sorts, it got him curious enough to listen carefully to whatever the others asked, and how she replied.]

In a fight to the death, you use whatever you have to use. Pride was what brought some of my opponents down, got plenty of us killed. [He won't linger too much on the use of "us" there.] Would your body react correctly to his reflexes, though?

[bivariant]

I'm aware of that.

[ she doesn't need two people lecturing her about the methodology of fighting, especially when survival is part of it. what she needs is a moment to gather her thoughts without jedao giving her the run down of why she cannot rely on her mediocre skill over his. it's practicality over pride, right now, and it's only making her testy. defiant in ways she never has been. ]

He's taller than I am. Wider gait. He focuses faster on vulnerabilities to exploit.

[ she wraps her fingers through the elegant scrolling of her rapier's handle, testing it for weakness or instability ]

My body reacts correctly, if I don't think about it. You wield a blade, you understand acting and reacting on instinct, rather than conscious thought. It's just like that.

[prizeneck]

[He tilts his head. It's not just with bladed weapons that you need to react on instinct. He's seen fingers knowing instinctively when to wrap around and when to rest beside a trigger, wrists twisting by knowing when to block and not to counter.

He nods, taking a breath.] To react without thinking, you need to practice time and time again for your body to remember, not your brain.

[It's his thing, after all. It's why the trees had wilted so fast around his grandfather's house, Makabe's dojo. As if each hit of his sword drained their sap to fill out his own.] There's no way for you to block him, is there?

[bivariant]

It's muscle memory. The longer we're together, the more naturally his motions come to me.

[ and since they're together for the foreseeable future, it at least means she won't fumble her damn chopsticks when she eats. or be unable to run in a straight line because her legs think they're longer than they are. the motions will naturalize, she assumes. she'll think less of it, and jedao's memories will fill her limbs. except, she doesn't want that. he's already in deep, letting him deeper would be irresponsible. ]

That is what I am doing. Thinking, as much as I can, so that I can hone myself. Not rely on the general.

[ She frowns, because she has come to rely on him -- to say she hasn't would be a lie. ] To not rely on him so much, I should say. I fear my autonomy would be threatened, even if he cannot take control of me. Isn't that what anyone would fear, having to learn a skill while made vulnerable? Fearing one's own vulnerability?

[ The tone of her voice clearly suggests she's referring to Mamoru's state, as much as she speaks of her own struggle. ]

[prizeneck]

[He swings the rapier so the thin flat of the blade rests against his shoulder. He hears the metal scrape the ratty t-shirt he's wearing - he's been using and washing his clothes so much and so many times they're starting to reach a lamentable state.

Because it's part of what he does every day, really. It became part of him. The moment his eyes could no longer reach light, as if that white-hot flash that burned his flesh had been the full quota of what he would see in a lifetime, shortened to an instant.

Except he hadn't really been given much time to be afraid when he was blinded. Even then, he's not even sure that it was fear that came later. When they wouldn't allow him to leave the sick bay of the military compound he had been carried to after the mission. That emptiness that he had felt when he was ten years old, lying in his grandfather's house, the full moon glaring at him, louder than the cicadas that summer. It came back with a vengeance, making up for the lost time where he forced himself to think about anything that required his complete focus. Slipping between the cracks, while he ran what had happened in the mission in his mind - what had failed, what could've been, what that guy would've done instead. Sneaking where he had no visual aid to his memory, only relying on sound, temperature, kinetics.


When he speaks, the voice is low, but it carries easily - it's as if he's used to speaking in places where he shouldn't be heard. ]

What do you think fear is?

[bivariant]

[ What does she think fear is.

She thinks it's seeing companies turned inside out on a field of battle, their ribcages crystallizing under heretical exotic effects, corpses dripping a black sludge that was formerly composed of very distinct elements: braided golden accents against black armor, scarlet blood inside of bodies. She thinks of the weather machines, of a bitter cold so deep and invasive that every breath causes her lungs to tighten, to freeze over, and she knows if she does not think faster and smarter, she will suffocate on her own body and then who will guide her battalion?

She thinks fear is the look in her battlion's eyes, when she told them they were breaking up the company. Unsure, dismayed, lost.

She thinks fear is the shape of her shadow. A madman's silhouette with brightly-gleaming eyes that she dreams about, as the hexarchate's greatest madman opens a formerly-unseen mouth and swallows her whole -- and she is lost, her heart and loyalties swallowed by a THING that was formerly a man, whom she knows she respects as much as she has been taught to fear and loathe him. ( She thinks fear is returning to the City of Ravens Feasting, to the arms of her mother, knowing that they haven't spoken the same language with equal skill in years and years. ) ]

To not belong.

[ She lifts her blade from where it rests at her side, pressing the flat of it across her palm. ]

No. Fear is "standing still". Easily combated, [ she steps forward, and her rapier rings through the air as she lunges towards him once more. ]

[prizeneck]

[The clash of their blades sounds very differently from what he’s used to, but then again, in the past couple of years, he has been rarely fighting against other sword-fighters. Still, the metal seems to clash as if using the pedal of a piano, the ringing lingering in the air as the thin blades bend and wobble at the motions.

He locks the angle of them as he takes in her form, casually resting his own stance to no opening for a counterattack.] Fear is your instinct creating enough chemistry for you to respond to something. It’s up to you to figure out how.

[He pushes the blades and the both of them apart, flicking his wrist. He can’t help but pull the corner of his lip for a second. ] But that’s something you already know, isn’t it?

[bivariant]

[ the rapier is a light blade, not unlike her calendrical sword. thinner, with slightly more flex should she hit something solid, but it sits in her grasp like something familiar. her stance is imperfect. practiced and professional, but not anything to be surprised at. the way she locks her angles is calculated, however -- she appreciates a good angle, and a better arc, waiting for her should she sweep. ]

Intimately.

[ this time, she doesn't drop her rapier, drawing herself into position once more. a hand behind her back, arched on her toes, prepared for a countdown that will inevitably come and a challenge to set her teeth into. the araneans would not be this patient with her, in a duel. as much as she wishes to do it herself, she has already been willing to give up much to someone with far more practical experience, why not this? ( because, she tells herself, she is passionate about this -- where jedao is clinical, and for once, she wants to teach him. ) ]

I'm responding now, am I not?

[ her motions, formerly choppy and frustrated, skilled but battling with something, have begun to smooth into something else. ]

-- have you been an instructor for long?

[prizeneck]

[He gives her a tilt of his head. A slight narrow of his eyes, taking in the posture, the incorrect position of her feet which he can tell comes from another exercise or another way of fighting - his first thought goes to the boxer he had to fight not so long ago, always on the balls of his feet, ready to jump; but he knows it's not that. Not really.

The intent, though, that he can read from her in waves. He likes it, even if it makes her movements slightly predictable, it's progress and he definitely appreciates that.]

And that is an observation of your own, huh?

[He blocks the swipe of her rapier smoothly, but with enough force to make it clang loudly across the room. He owes that determination a little flare, at least.] Haven't been one for a long time.