agogelogs | WILL YOU WALK INTO MY PARLOR

WILL YOU WALK INTO MY PARLOR—

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

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[His nostrils flare at a sharp sniff, and he turns to look at the meat. Clucking with his tongue, he reaches for the meat with a quick motion and places it on his dish.

He sighs, displeased and angry at himself. The one thing he hates more than losing is wasting good food.

He's about to say something, mouth open when his droid has the lovely idea of puffing out a burst of glitter once again, covering even the inside of his lenses.

And slowly, very slowly, Mamoru's grip on the cutlery turn knuckle-white, his shoulders square impossibly wide, stomach clenching and the air around him almost heavy enough it's about to crackle.]

Thanks. [He manages to grit out.]

[Prompto lets out a nervous laugh, unsure if he's supposed to find this intimidating or funny. Because it's both. It's definitely both and, even though Mamoru's response isn't directed at him, he has to consciously remind himself not to lean back.

If he's learning anything from etiquette lessons, it's that.]

You're welcome? [He isn't sure if that was directed towards him or the droid, but, well, the droid isn't going to answer.] Good thing it didn't get the glitter on the plate!

It may as well, the steak is ruin--[You have been consumed! has never been said so happily.

Such happy last words, as a couple more droids take away the newly-deceased robot for... repairs, maybe. And bring a new set of cutlery while Mamoru is still rubbing at his jaw and chin and making sure he doesn't have glitter in his mouth.

It's a good thing the droids shaved him, or he would have glitter stuck to his stubble. There's an upside, he supposes, even if he tells himself that he could not have avoided the latest onslaught of glitter because there was no intent to read out a droid.

He sighs, taps his own shoulder with his fingers.] You're tense here. Relax your shoulders away from your ears. The idea is that your shoulder blades should be pinching together.

[He sounds tired. He could deal with Yakuza, international crime lords, a heavy-armed army.

But it's etiquette. Goddamn etiquette that is wearing him out.]

Edited (lmao wrong icon) 2018-04-16 22:20 (UTC)

[omg... RIP, droid. Prompto may not have much affection for them in current circumstances, but the look on his face says it all. Listen, the droids are sorta cute? In a robotic way.

In any case, he starts when Mamoru gives him instructions, frowning as he hitches his shoulders.]

Pinching? [He's not sure he gets it, but he tries, even as his droid douses him with another shower of glitter for poor eye contact.] Are you serious—can you even tell if I'm looking at you?

[He shifts from talking to the droid to Mamoru mid-sentence.]

[He tilts his head away from the glitter even though he's pretty sure it wouldn't reach him. After the lastest bursts, he doesn't want to get bombed again. It brings some sort of memories he doesn't like, especially when he can feel the sparkles stick to his brow.]

Yeah, move together by bringing your shoulders back. Like this, [he rolls his shoulders forward, then back.]

And yeah, I can. I'm using these. [A touch to the red lens sunglasses.] Plus your gaze feels very blatant.

[Prompto starts to tilt his head to the side, only to stall the motion almost immediately when the droid edges closer. He gives it a look as he mimics Mamoru, but doesn't get glitter bombed again. Small mercies, he guesses.]

What d'you mean by "feels blatant"?

[He gives Prompto a nod. While the motion of rolling back your shoulders isn't really perfect unless your back muscles are used to that kind of movement, Prompto is actually managing to make an acceptable effort.

He can't help but wonder how long he'll be able to keep that posture, though. It's a vicious cycle: you slump forward in a bad posture for so long that when you're trying to correct it, it's too much of a strain.] Ya ever felt someone staring at you? Or know anyone who can feel them?

[The answer is "not long". Prompto's posture isn't the worst or even that bad, all things considered, but well, he just sucks at staying still for long periods of time. He's holding still now, but it's taking waaay too much effort.]

You mean the creepy feeling of being watched? Sure, but I dunno how accurate it is for me. Most of the time it's just in your head, you know? Unless you're getting tailed by daemons.

Huh, yeah, I getcha.

[He picks up another piece of meat, carefully places it in the bowl, listening to it fizzle as it touches the hot surface. He glances carefully at the droid, who hasn't burst yet another cloud of glitter into his face since they started talking about this subject. Maybe this was an acceptable subject?

This world they're being sent to is odd, but whatever.] Some people sense more than others, and in those that feel the most, there's a percentage that feels something that isn't quite there. Some people call it insecurity, or even paranoia. I think it's just misdirected.

[He flips the meat to sear it. The cutlery is easy to deal with, after all, when you're used to blades and you practiced enough.] Even before I went blind, I could read people enough to figure out what they're doing when I'm not looking. On good days, I can figure out one or two more steps forward.

Knowing how to feel a person's watching is just mandatory doing what I do.

[It's a good thing Mamoru is the one cooking. Prompto is...not great at it (what a shocker, something else he sucks at doing). There's a reason he mostly gets stuck setting the table in his friends' camping endeavors.]

You mean the suspicious criminal activity?

[He should maybe sound more judgmental about this, but nope.]

That's pretty cool. Seems like a lot of people here have powers or something to help them along. [Prompto might rank somewhere on the artificial spectrum, but it sure doesn't give him superpowers.]

The—sunglasses. [He taps next to one eye, like he needs the emphasis, but quickly drops his hand with a quick sideways glance at his droid.] How much detail can you see with those things, anyway?

[A snort.] Martial arts, kid. I wasn't always doing this.

It's not a... special ability like many people here seem to have. It's just part of learning how to read a person. [He slips the tip of a blade under the meat and tilts his head to hear the sizzle. Still not the way he likes it, which is medium rare.] Reading your opponent, getting into their mind. Better than to block an attack, is to prevent it from happening. And it all starts with the eyes, really.

[He manages to glance at the motion and hurries to pick up the meat, place it on his plate. The (new) droid does nothing, which is a win.] They allow me to see surfaces through a 3D render. I can't see colors or your irises, for instance, but after I got used to it I can tell when someone shivers.

[A beat, and he removes them, and unseeingly points at blade at where a plate of the droid joins with another, a clear threat, ["points for intimidation skills!" it titters] as he leans forward and hands them out to him across the table.] Try them out. [A smirk.] Careful, they're expensive.

Well, excuse me for not knowing your full backstory. You didn't exactly come with a guide.

[Maybe don't talk about people like they're video games, Prompto. But while he isn't a stranger to fighting at this point in his life, he's pretty sure he didn't learn close combat like this; he'd remember it, because it sounds like it should be in an anime. Never mind he doesn't remember his two-week crash course in Crownsguard training super well in general... Or that he still kind of sucks at it, completely outclassed by his friends.

But his eyes go wide when Mamoru offers him the sunglasses, obvious from his voice.]

Dude, can I? [Like he isn't already reaching for them. His own droid hits him in the back of the head with a glitter ball, disapproving of his posture—Prompto half lurched to his feet in excitement—and he gives the droid the stink eye and himself an irritable shake before flopping back in his seat. Well, at least the shades are glittery already so he doesn't have to worry about that...]

So are they like really high tech VR? [He asks as he puts them on.] Just not virtual, obviously.

Think the term is AR, for 'Augmented'. But I ain't really a specialist. [Mamoru shrugs, and picks up the grilled meat and places it in the plate. He's almost expecting to hear the slight gush of air that precedes the glitter, but hears nothing. Hm. Good test on his muscle memory at least.

He leans forward, hears the slight threat of a whir to his left, the droid checking if he rests his elbows on the table - he rests his forearms instead.]

It helps me identify people, guns, among other things.

[A pop up shows up if Prompto looks at Mamoru, though. Not that it's very informative

Name: 土方護 - HIJIKATA, Mamoru
Team: BLADE
Subsidized by: [CONFIDENTIAL - Need Clearance]
Observations: Custodian of [CONFIDENTIAL - Need Clearance].
Alias "PRIZENECK";
Bounty: $100.000.000.
Status: [UNKNOWN].]

They zoom in and out, and needless to say I don't really need any light to walk around. It can connect to other bits of tech like a computer, but I think it's not compatible with our comms system.

Huhhh, sounds right! I didn't know it had readouts, too.

[It's a little distracted and he hums in response to Mamoru's more detailed rundown as he looks at the popup hovering nearby.]

One hundred million? [There's a beat and when he speaks again he sounds confused instead of incredulous.] They tell you your own bounty?

[He laughs.]

Harsh. Sold out by your own eyewear!

It helps out with ballistic trajectories, too. Comes in handy if people try to shoot at me.

[An eyebrow shoots up. They do?] I don't know. Ain't like I can actually take a look at myself. If I look at a mirror, it only shows me a surface, not the reflection.

[An afterthought.] Probably from my usual employer's database.

For real? That's cool as hell. Noct can warp, but I've always had to stick to old-fashioned dodging... If you can call it that. More like accidentally being in the right place at the right time!

[He nudges the sunglasses up his nose, turning to look at the nearby droid threatening him. As someone who specializes in machinery and firearms, this is way cooler than sliced bread. It's somewhere up there with video games.]

But ok, dude, gotta ask: Why would your employer have a bounty on you?

[The excitement isn't just audible, it's palpable from across the table. Mamoru leans back.]

Ain't no thing like a constant accident. You got shot at a lot?

[From memory he picks up the napkin on his wrist, uses it to clean the blade of the curved cutlery in his hand.]

They aren't who put the bounty up. But I figure that if it's there when aimed at me then it's some sort of safeguard if I ever had to be put down.

Uhhh, so-so?

[He makes a back-and-forth hand motion, before remembering Mamoru can't see it. His droid makes a clicking noise.]

Kind of hard not to get shot at when the Empire keeps sending dropships after your bestie. Or, like, a grade A asshole insists on ruining your day by chasing you into the middle of nowhere so he can cart you off to a lab. And then there was Gallipoli...

[tl;dr: Yeah, he's been shot at a lot. How is he alive, honestly.]

But that sounds pretty messed up! You'd think they'd at least wait until after you do something dodgy to put a bounty on you.

[He had had barely enough time to know why Noctis was such a gravitational character that pulled people from both his world and others, but he knew that the kid had some sort of influence anyway. But another thing calls to his attention:] Why would an asshole want to get you in a lab?

[Slightly amused, he gives Prompto a chuckle. Low and raspy, but not exactly mean or malicious.] Once again, you’re assuming I haven’t done anything dodgy before.

The bounty is messed up, I’ll tell you that. [He between thumb and forefinger, he feels the edge of the knife pensively.] Another “grade A asshole”, as you call it, wanted the kid I was protecting. So he placed a bounty on her, alive for 250 million. He knew I had to get out of the way so he placed another on me. So it’s not like I’m anyone of importance.

I think my employer let it stay in my record as a reminder to the institution I worked for that I have a purpose for being in it. But I’m kind of a wildcard. It wouldn’t be the first time if the guy I’m working for told me to do a job, and that if I didn’t succeed, that he’d hand me over to the authorities for the shit I pulled.

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WILL YOU WALK INTO MY PARLOR—

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hey i've been a disaster i'm sorry

No need for sorry's I've been hideous

fistbump of solidarity

fistbump!