EVERY LIVING THING PUSHED INTO THE RING,

[agogemod]

WHO? Everybody!
WHAT? Welcome to the arenas.
WHEN? Two weeks of arena time.
ANYTHING ELSE? Please warn for anything besides physical violence and move to a personal journal if it's beyond PG-13.

GUESS YOU THOUGHT YOU COULDN'T JUST WATCH;

no one's getting out

READ THE JHASHCH INFOPAGE.

THE ENTRANCE

COST and the Regency receive formal invites a week before the arenas open, requesting their presence at the opening ceremony. And not in just any capacity, but as guests of honor. Queen Thsh agreed to host these arenas, after all, as a show of power and confidence in that power; not only to spiderkind, but to those who would support or overthrow her.

The inner rings of Ythaway buzz in anticipation. Aranean architects and their workers put the final touches on the massive structure strung over the pits of Ymir, dedicated in equal parts to combat and gaming and court life. Carved from stone and adorned with wicked sculptures, it looks impossibly delicate, balanced on bridges only just wide enough for a single female Aranean. They are packed with spiders and their decorative servants on opening day, made more hazardous by the crowd and perpetual darkness.

The arena is lavishly decorated on all fronts; while the bulk of the audience only offers standing room, there is peculiarly decorated Aranean furniture along the perimeter of each area, set up high so even those significantly smaller than the average Aranean female can get a view. It's possible to find Aranean children tussling here and at the forefront of the crowds, with even the smallest already sharpening their backstabbing skills.

» THE CEREMONY

The opening ceremony is a grandiose affair, marking the beginning of a two-week event. The arenas themselves are hung with banners and trimmed by gold filigree that represents the Royal Family and each of the remaining Great Houses. Each house puts on their own show, displaying the best of their respective skills and resources.

Jankeh's is technological genius, featuring mechanical wonders and holographic projections that earn noises of admiration from the crowd. Shaiy's is pure luxury, displaying all the latest fashion trends and elegant in movement. Khah's is power, with elaborate dances that mimic military formations and tell tales of the Thshan Empire's victories. It takes the better part of two hours to display everything they have in full, each display more extravagant than the last.

And then, as fireworks go off, it's your turn. COST and the Regency aren't expected to do much, fortunately; you aren't the entertainers here, at least not yet. But you're brought on stage and introduced, expected to bow and carry out your pleasantries. It's short and snappy and the Regency exchanges derisive looks with any recruit who meets their eyes.

Once you've cleared the stage, a parade of uthcki and hhcho are marched out in neat rows perhaps a little too similar to the ones you just departed in. All of them wear the colors of House Chchai and they are, in essence, the last vestiges of the house. They're displayed proudly by House Shaiy, with Lady Thchnk's daughters standing at either edge as an honor guard. And then, at the sound of a rising cry from their mother, they turn as one on the genetically engineered creatures.

It's brutally quick and silent, save for the crack of bone, as each female Aranean cuts down the servants and pets of the now-dead house. Their teeth gnash and blood splatters against their carefully, lovingly crafted dresses. Part ceremonial and all power, they kill every last uthcki and hhcho until the stage is littered with remains and permanently stained red with blood.

As Lady Thchnk's eldest daughter and heir apparent delicately wipes her mouth of blood, none other than High Queen Thsh steps forward, to applaud the display. And, with her word, the arenas are officially open.

These are your battlegrounds.

» DIVIDE AND CONQUER

As ever, "conquest" is the name of the game in High Queen Thsh's empire. While you've made impressions and connections with noble spiders, this is your chance to show off where your loyalties lie. If you claim victory, you can dedicate it to your chosen monarch. While COST would like you to declare for the Queen, you can show your favor for Princess Chch or any other spider allies. COST will not reprimand you and Young, at least, spares Queen Thsh no love.

But note that, while you may kill competing Araneans and Regency agents here with immunity, the same holds true for them to you. To step into an arena is to forfeit any semblance of safety or diplomatic immunity. While there are rules—you still need to follow proper Aranean duel etiquette and can't wantonly attack anyone when you aren't participating in these arenas—they are few and far between.

COST and the Regency aren't the only foreign diplomats in attendance, either. There is a surge of new arrivals through the Jhashchan terminals, some humanoid and some not; if you can imagine it, you're likely to see an alien of that sort in the audience or competing in the arenas themselves. Of course...whether they're here willingly or not is another matter.

That said, for recruits who make a name for themselves: Don't be surprised if an Aranean asks you for a genetic donation to their labs.


THE ARENA

Upon entering the arena, the social niceties that encouraged the spiders to separate COST and the Regency dissolve. You are left to the darkness and your own devices, so don't get stabbed in the back, whether by an Aranean or the Regency operatives. While the three individuals in charge of the Regency—Khnum, Ptah, and Tatenen—icily engage Grothia and Young, the agents under their employ at left to your mercy and vice versa.

None of them are without their shabti; in many cases, when a Regency operative considers a challenge beneath them, they order their shabti to take it instead. It's yet another display of power to the Araneans, daring them to take offense. The shabti never protest; they execute their assigned duties with a minimum of words, uncannily blank faced and almost robotic in their motions. The Regency's unspoken point is clear; they expect the Araneans beneath them to bow just as their shabti do.

Mhic Nathair, earstwhile matron in Gallipoli, keeps her distance, though her shabti secretary occasionally flits through the crowd to get her mistress drinks. The shabti Mhic Nathair owns is a quiet, demure woman, who shies away from conversation as though she expects it to preclude physical violence. No one knows what Mhic Nathair is doing to her secretary, but it hasn't resulted in any bruises anyone can see. But, then again, she's always wearing long sleeved shirts and high collars.

Still, no agent is foolish enough to disgrace one of the Araneans at the top of the food chain. There's real deference in their treatment of the High Queen and Princess Chch; the observant might even catch a few meaningful glances between the princess and some of the higher ranking Regency agents as the Royal Family receives their guests.

It's a cool affair, before they wave everyone into the hands of the Great Matrons, ever playing politics. And the Great Matrons brush the duty off on their daughters, who are as disdainful as they are vain. After all, you haven't proven yourselves yet and the Matrons have their own duties; it's only under their watchful eyes that the arena logistics unfold. And there will be hell to pay if they don't go as planned.

Each of the Great Houses claims domain over one of the arenas. Rumors hint House Chchai would have dominated the court and dabbled in the games, but with the family exterminated, it's only hearsay. As it stands, House Khah exerts most of their influence over the game and the stadium, while Shaiy shows the most favor to the court, but does not hesitate to plunge into the other arenas. House Jankeh favors the stadium and then the court. This is done most transparently in the form of sponsorships, which they'll offer to victors with particularly impressive winning streaks, especially if they dedicate victories to the family.

And remember, even here the hierarchy is in play. But it doesn't always obey the simple layout outside the arena doors. Someone sharp of eye might notice that some challenges in different arenas are specifically gamed so one tier of the hierarchy dominates the others. So keep an ear to the ground and follow the spider gossip if you want to play to your strengths; sometimes the arenas are, without a doubt, rigged.

» THE LOGISTICS

You have the option of choosing the outcome of your arena exploits and tailoring them to your liking. But for those who are interested in a bit more risk...well, there's a bit more reward involved as well. If you'd like to RNG your battle, sign up here. Be warned: Losing may result in serious injury or death.

Of course, if your character dies, they'll be teleported back to BASE and will have to convalesce there for three weeks, although given the way BASE time lines up with everything else, well. There's a good chance they might get teleported back into the mission not long after they died. And they may also experience a strange vision, a magical glimpse into the future...or maybe that's just the excellent drugs Chiron has in Medical.

That said, the prize for winning is much more impressive. Win well enough and by a large enough margin and the loser (or the house of the loser) must give you whatever you claim as boon, within reason. If they own it, you can take it. Up to and including their very lives.

In all arenas, you can name enemy spiders, Regency operatives, and other NPCs; feel free to make up their personalities and handle them as you see fit, down to plotting their demise. If you need to contact an Aranean NPC for something that cannot be handwaved, please go here; to talk to Mhic Nathair, her shabti, or any other Regency NPCs, please go here!

» THE STADIUM

The most openly dangerous of the arenas, combat is for recruits who see strife as a way of life. While the setting varies—sometimes there are even simulated fields in the barren, boiling style of Jhashch's daytime landscape, modified so all lifeforms can survive it—often they're darker than the rest of the arena, so your assigned goggles may come in handy.

Fights take any manner of shape and form, from straightforward combat to competitions that test competitors' mettle in reflexes or speed. Opponents vary; some of them are ordinary humans whose luck has taken a bad turn, while others are aliens on par with your own cognition. Others still are monstrous wildlife, big or small but always deadly. Just remember: it's expected victory end in blood. If it doesn't, rumors inevitably fly.

There is no rhyme or reason to what kind of fight you find yourself in, whether pairing up with a friend or against said friend. You might even find yourself temporarily allied with an Aranean, the Regency, or another being. And recruits are authorized to carry any weapons they like into the arena; perform well enough and House Jankeh might sponsor you with their own arms.

Also, Princess Shai and Princess Aythy compete in this arena. Deadly and graceful, they're a sight to see on the battlefield. Arena encounters with the Twin Generals are only available via RNG and mean your character has an extremely high chance of dying, so tread with caution.

» THE COURT

As ever in the Aranean court, etiquette is key. Entertain, dance, and dine; in this arena, it's as much an artform as stressed by your training. Only here, if you make an error, a droid doesn't cutely—infuriatingly—glitter ball and inform you that you've been consumed. No, here it becomes reality. And these interactions are no longer reserved for Araneans; again, there are other species on the playing field, representing other factions of the Thshan Empire and all here to exercise that specific brand of Aranean diplomacy.

And, of course, there's the Regency. It becomes clear that the Regency is working to fill the power void created by the fall of House Chchai; there are candidates of all sorts clamoring for recognition in these arenas, which serve both foreign and domestic diplomats.

COST recruits receive a list of marks, with pro-Regency targets highlighted. While all members of COST are told to keep company with at least one other recruit, it holds especially true in this arena. The court may not be fast-paced outside of bursts of blood-bright violence, but tensions constantly run high. And, for the unlucky—or the lucky, depending on your point of view—you may encounter Princess Chch herself. While her mother derides participation—well loved as these arenas may be, they're a celebration of High Queen Thsh and don't merit her participation—the princess has her own agenda, so watch her closely.

» THE GAME

The safest of the arenas, by virtue of why it exists in the first place, there's no limit to what kind of games the spiders offer. As long as it has a bit of violent spice and a clear winner or loser, it's all good. Moreover, the night vision goggles you received at the beginning of the mission can interface with the VR equipment, provided you do some tweaking.

This is also the arena that allows interplanetary participation. As such, there are several players who appear as nothing more than usernames on a screen. The spiders in charge of this arena claim participation is locked only to diplomats and individuals with important political sway, as a way of paying homage to and fostering relations with distant stars, so rest assured you're gaming with someone very important.

...Probably, anyway. There are signs something is off about some of these distant competitors, whether through the muttering of spiders or their own silence. They never speak, sticking exclusively to text for communication, and at one point an entire group is banned from the servers. Which doesn't seem to be enough to keep them out; several return, taunting anyone who will listen. Trolls, perhaps; it's certainly how the higher ranking spiders like to spin it.

Prince Shch and a few members of his entourage observe, although as male Araneans it's derided that they participate. It's funny enough to female Araneans that male humans like video games; the idea of a male Aranean enjoying the pastime is preposterous. But he remains a silently ominous figure in the stands, bearing witness to your endeavors and showing understated favor to victors who somehow win his attentions.


THE FALLOUT

All of the arenas run the risk of being bloody. Physical confrontations are almost inevitable and brushes with them are inescapable. While it's possible to sweet talk your way out of them in the court or game arenas, there are a few things to keep in mind for those of you who try and don't succeed...or for those of you who want to be a big damn hero and come to another recruit's rescue with guns blazing. Your pick.

» THE ARANEANS

Araneans are as powerful as their size suggests. Their legs are only deceptively fragile; while their joints can be weak points, their exoskeletons are like armor. They're much faster than any human, with almost preternatural reflexes; they may not be able to deflect or dodge bullets, but in many cases they simply don't need to. Again: their exoskeletons are like armor. They can absorb pure magical attacks, though using bespelled items or elements can work. The underside of their abdomen is a vulnerable spot, but it also puts any targets at the mercy of their eight legs. It's highly unadvised for a baseline human to take an Aranean on solo.

Older female Araneans often go unarmored in the arenas, unless stipulated otherwise; if they're armed, they often carry spears. Male spiders and young female Araneans just stepping into their first arena often don armor. Originally designed as protection and an aid in mining duties, it's evolved with their culture. Designed in a plated style with futuristic trappings, it protects the abdomen and joints but affords the spider full mobility, as expected of a species that prizes agility and jumping. Male Araneans often use longer spears to make up for their smaller size, to give them the reach of a female Aranean, but you'll never see them carrying weaponry that elevates them above a female spider. Historically, that's a sight only seen in rebellions mercilessly crushed by Queen Thsh and her mother.

Their detection ability is a boon against artificial and magical entities—magical ones, especially, who they can sense in the very air. And, as always, mind their fangs. You only have three autotoxin injectors, but keep them handy.

» THE REGENCY

For recruits who endured Gallipoli, facing the agents here isn't too different. Only agents of high ranking have access to power nullification equipment, but they're all in beyond peak physical condition. It'll take at least two baseline humans to tackle one Regency operative, who have additional cybernetic modifications. Some of this is offensive, but it affords them a great deal of additional strength in all cases, depending on what's augmented.

Their actual weaponry varies between arenas, but they err in favor of what the spiders want to see and stick largely with melee weaponry; it earns more respect from the Araneans. They also aren't shy about sending shabti into combat in their place, should they see it necessary. Or if they're aiming for insult and injury.

The shabti are augmented just like their creators; while none of them have the cybernetic implants their lords and ladies favor, there's something preternaturally quick and resilient to each of them. If your timing is equally preternatural, you might see one kill an Aranean...or you might see an Aranean kill a shabti and devour their remains. While spiders are well aware of the Regency's intent behind the shabti, they're also quick to adapt to this hiccup in the hierarchy and treat them as little more than food and decor, just like their own servants. But that isn't to say they're to be underestimated on the battlefield.

» THE LAST FRONTIER

There are far more than spiders and humans in attendance. What they look like, who they represent, and what they're capable of is as variable as you'd expect in a meeting of interplanetary forces. You never know what you might find.


THE KIOSKS

When you aren't participating in the arenas, you have access to your quarters and the Siopai in the Second Ring. Really, you have access to (almost) all levels of Aranean society, should you wish to explore it. However, the sensation of being watched within the dark halls of Ythaway never disappears; if anything, with the arenas, it intensifies.

And the kiosks are no exception. While they're more affordable than the Siopai, they still aren't cheap. They predominantly sell kitschy trinkets and food; none of the latter is labeled outside of a vague description of what it is, so buyer beware. You don't know what's mixed in there, but it's definitely meat. Mystery meat that the Araneans devour ravenously, as if to remind you they once devoured their creators.

The kiosks—and more than a few other locations in the mines—are also overrun by the paparazzi, Aranean and otherwise. They demand interviews, detailing your latest win in the arenas. What's your date of birth? Is it possible to translate it into the Jhashchan calendar? Perhaps your star sign is compatible with a competing bachelorette.

It's going to be a long two weeks.

READ THE JHASHCH INFOPAGE.

NAV. NETWORK LOGS OOC MEMES PLURK

Comments

[horsepowered]

I. The Stadium (if you think we're gonna make it you better hang onto yourself)

[Chiron's own preference for weapons in the stadium lies not with the javelin that so many of the hosts favor, but with a bow and enough arrows to accomplish whatever the task at hand is. He would use his own, the one given to him as a servant of the Archer class, but it's a thing made of magic and thus here, it does not give him any advantage. It is a weakness, something he must discard.

He doesn't mind. The bow he has picked is reliable (he bought it in one of the shops, making use of the credits COST afforded him), and he has arrows. Everything else is down to instinct. For the matches where Chiron is paired with another COST member, he makes sure to stand by them in order to strategize as quickly as possible.]

Where do your skills lie, and do you wish to take the lead in declaring this match when we win?

II. The Game (Think about all of the strange things circulating round)
Chiron's no man inclined towards skill in video games, but he wants to obeserve the matter because it is the single event that allows interplanetary participation. It is, to him, the most obvious way to manipulate the system and if no one makes an attempt to do so, he will be extremely surprised.

He watches match after match with a cold air around him, his arms folded over his chest and eyes everywhere at once. He has no intention of getting eaten, and if there are signs of cheating, he wants to know so that COST can try to gain any ground lost.

But he notices something else as well. Time and again, Chiron's eyes return to Prince Shch, his interest, all of it, that is important. That's information that can be used, especially if the princess is bullheaded enough to continue to pursue any alliance with the Regency.

"How very fascinating," he mutters at some point, as the games continue. "If I'm reading this correctly, that is."

III. Kiosks + Last Frontier (Pushing through the market square)
[Chiron's preference for stepping aside from the arena is born of both a need to rest (fighting is still a strain of mana and he cannot push himself too hard) and some level of curiosity regarding all of the others attending the games. With the games being interplanetary, that means that there is opportunity to learn far more about this time and place than simply requesting more information about COST would afford.]

a) [Speaking with a woman who cannot be more than thirty, her hair stunningly elaborate like that of a Roman matron (sewn into place she says, a mark of pride in her voice at not only her status but at the skill of her hairdresser), Chiron hears tell of her own homeworld and how seeing this spectacle is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Chiron smiles at her, kind as anything, only for her to apologize, as she's late to meet a friend.]

Mm. I wonder how quickly word can reach within this empire, and how recent events have been reported.

b)There's no look on Chiron's face that has ever screamed HELP as it has in this moment. There are far too many boisterous paparazzi with even more legs surrounding him, making a polite ducking out all but impossible to avoid.

Some of the questions, How long have you been focusing on archery?; Is it a disadvantage to not use magic in the arena? It's quite obvious that's a part of your skillset; would you be prepared to move on to a different level of difficulty with an opponent? would be easy to respond to if they were being asked by one person. But the constant flow peppered with I've heard that there's a number of competeing Araneans who've taken notice; would you consider private meetings with fans; are you aware of the society pages that say make it all but impossible to get away without making an absolute ass of oneself.

"This is all very," Chiron tries to respond over the din. Raising his voice is not something he's keen on doing, but in about five seconds...

IV. Recovery (I'm so wiped out with things as they are)
It had been a fight that Chiron had engaged in. Impressive, terrifying, energizing, and lost. It was hard not to think of it in terms of a fight in the Grail War, one with a few handicaps given how much magic was a disadvantage here.

To sit in bed and rest was not something Chiron was inclined to do. Not when there were others who needed support, not when his own Master was still fighting. But to force himself to move too quickly would be a drain on that same Master's mana, and it would destroy her chances of success. That was unacceptable.

And so for two days, Chiron remained in COST's temporary lodgings, far removed from everything and what felt like everyone.

I

[doublejumps]

[ There's much about this planet that is foreign to Genji, and the arena is no different. Gladiatorial combat fell out of favor on Earth centuries ago, and so while much of Jhashch is advanced, this part of it feels antiquated. Still, fighting in the ring will earn COST more favor among the Araneans, and Genji knows that he's well-suited to it. He's done plenty of sparring, though this is on the other end of the spectrum when it comes to the risk involved. He's already seen competitors die in the ring, and that level of ruthlessness seems to be encouraged.

He's been paired up for this particular fight, which eases some of his anxiety, at least. In theory, if there's two of them their chances of winning will be better. He hasn't met this other COST agent before, let alone fought beside him, but Genji's body language eases slightly when he sees the bow and arrow.

He knows how to fight alongside an archer, after all.

His partner gets down to business, which Genji appreciates. He nods down to the wakizashi sheathed across his back. ] My skills lie with the blade. I can get in close and keep them busy, while you shoot from afar? [ A simple strategy, but an effective one. ] As for declaring, I don't mind.

[horsepowered]

That'll do nicely. I'll aim for the upper area of the body whenever you're working in the lower area, and do the opposite as required. [Chiron's voice is low, as to not reveal the strategy, but it is also going to be an obvious one when the fight itself begins.] Pick whomever you wish then, any dedication I have is to someone worlds away.

[If Chiron was to truly dedicate a fight, it would be for his Master in the Holy Grail War. He didn't wish to place her on the Regency's radar though, and so her name would go unspoken.

Chiron's hands remain steady on his equipment, although they're lowered as required for a fight. In truth, he had only seen Genji in the briefest of passings, but he spoke with authority when it came to fighting. That put him at ease.]

I'll begin firing the minute you start moving.

[And there was the signal to begin. The opponent this time around was an Aranean. She had no armor, and a swagger of confidence that was likely well earned.]

[doublejumps]

[ Someone worlds away? That sounds like something worth asking about, once they're done here. Genji's plan is simply to dedicate their victory to the Queen, as that is what COST has asked them to do. It seems like the safest choice, rather than showing preference for any other specific House or Aranean. That's something he can worry about once they've actually won, though. ]

Understood. This should be fun. [ It's life or death, maybe, but it's not like Genji hasn't fought with such high stakes before. The setting is different, but he doesn't mind the straight-forward nature of it. He lifts a hand to quickly salute to Chiron, then darts toward the Aranean that's entered the arena.

He runs in a zigzag, wanting to come in from an unpredictable angle -- which ends up being from above, as he leaps into the air and comes down on the spider with his blade drawn.

The main worry here is all those legs. Maybe Chiron can start whittling away at them. ]

[horsepowered]

[Chiron does not respond to the word fun. He remains straight faced, and as Genji departs, he prepares himself in earnest. Arrow ready, bow pointed, and the rest is all aiming and trying to predict where all of those limbs are about to go.

Genji's top down approach gives Chiron an idea with all of those legs, one that requires an inhuman amount of skill. The leg joints are a weak spot, but getting to them is a nearly inhuman task.

Thank the gods he's inhuman.

There is a flurry of arrows from Chiron's direction, the speed forcing their opponent to divide her attention between the menace on her back and the frontal assault. It's more than enough demands of her limbs that Chiron risks releases an arrow meant for her back joints, the ones supporting her rather than being used for defense.]

[doublejumps]

[ So serious! Yet another thing that Chiron shares in common with Hanzo. Genji has to wonder if the similarities stop there, but that's something that he can figure out once this fight is over and done with. For now, he needs to put all of his attention onto taking down their opponent. This may be two-on-one, but he isn't going to underestimate the fighting prowess of an Aranean.

He'd successfully landed on the Aranean's back and forced his blade down into her thorax. With no armor to protect her soft tissue, she's already started bleeding, although that hasn't slowed her down yet.

Genji focuses on the familiar sound of arrows soaring through the air -- and then hitting their mark. Both he and Chiron are being relentless in their attack, and as more arrows hit her, the Aranean hisses, mandibles twitching in annoyance as she swivels her upper body around enough to swipe at Genji with her own weapon, a long curved blade.

The blade catches against his armor, creating sparks, but it's going to take more than that to wound him. Genji slashes at her arm that's holding the blade; Chiron should have a decent opening to continue with his barrage. ]

[horsepowered]

[The sparks catch Chiron's attention like nothing else, and he takes a split second to try and determine Genji's damage. If there's blood, if the injury is serious, if anything must be adjusted, or else if the matter can be turned into an advantage.

The slashes say it all. This is a potential good turn, and to not take advantage of it would be foolish.

Sure and swift footed, Chiron begins to run, taking advantage of his own superhuman speed. Not towards their opponent, but to take advantage of another angle, to force her to look either at him or Genji and to struggle with whereabouts. As he does so, the barage of arrows are all aimed at the Aranean's joints, and if some of the arrows look like they're passing through one set of legs in order to strike the others, well. They are.

And one of those arrows finds it's mark, causing the Aranean's attention to whip around to Chiron.]

[doublejumps]

[ While Genji's sword cuts through her sword hand, so to speak, it doesn't matter. The Aranean drops the blade, but catches it midair with yet another hand. It feels a little bit like taking on a hydra, like in those stories. Cut off one arm, there's another to take its place.

They're working them down, though, and Chiron has plenty of room to let those arrows fly. They tear through enough of the Aranean's joints that she decides to refocus her attention, shifting around to stare down Chiron with her eight piercing eyes.

She thrashes then, tossing Genji off of her like a raging bull. She does it with enough speed and strength that he has no chance to hold on, and has to curl in on himself and roll across the dirt of the arena floor to minimize any damage.

The Aranean, meanwhile, races straight for Chiron, wanting to close the distance between her and his long-range attacks as quickly as possible. She's not moving as fast as she might be normally, though, due to the wounds she's already suffered. ]

[horsepowered]

[Chiron would laugh if he heard the hydra comparison, and then proclaim it to be far too true. After all, he knew of the damn thing. It was of his time. But there's no time to share such thoughts, not when there's a charging of a many limbed opponent at a speed that is nothing short of impressive.

There's no point in trying to run from her. The arena is much too small. Limited space means that he'll be cornered if he waits, and so Chiron makes a decision. He stops his barage of arrows and runs towards her instead.

The pattern is serpentine, and there is a look of concentration that suggests that Chiron absolutely has a plan. He's lost Genji in the fog of battle. But maybe that means the Arnaean has as well.]

I

[mylawn]

When we win?

[76 says that with a grin on his face, not entirely buying into Chiron's confidence--but if there's one thing he's good at, it's putting on a mask. He's in his full tactical gear down to his visor, overly-large rifle strapped to his back. Despite his apprehension, however, he knows there are worse COST recruits to fight with.]

If you can bring them down from a distance, I can finish it off in close quarters.

[By now, he hopes that Chiron knows where his strengths lie (read: not fencing). The Araneans don't exactly favor firearms, but he's brought the rifle more as a backup than anything else. It makes a good blunt weapon, but his own enhancements are what he'll be leaning on for a fight like this.]

[horsepowered]

Do you think we'd make it out alive if we allowed the word if to enter the conversation?

[Chiron's hand is already reaching back into his quiver, waiting for the moment to begin the fight.]

That's fine. Normally I would say to yell if you need help in close quarters, but the Araneans' ability to track magic is a bug rather than a feature for me.

[mylawn]

I'm just trying to be realistic.

[Or, perhaps pessimistic. His shoulders are already tense in preparation for the fight, and he stares out into the arena, trying to get the lay of the land. 76 nods along to Chiron's assessment before offering a word of assurance.]

But I've got your back.

[horsepowered]

Of that, I have no doubt.

[Chiron nods. There's the sound to start, and in an absolute flash, Chiron has not only grabbed an arrow, but let two of them fly. It's a demonstration of the marksmanship that 76 witnessed back in France, but also a clear reason why Chiron had wished that bows were in vogue at the time.

He knows what he's doing.]

[mylawn]

[76 doesn’t know who or what they’re facing off against, and he doesn’t really care. What matters is that he has someone competent fighting beside him, which increases his chances exponentially. He offers a nod before the signal to start, and then he’s off and running.

Their opponent is Aranean, which poses its own set of challenges. 76, for his part, chooses not to be intimidated, aiming to draw its attention before it has the chance to go after Chiron first.]

[horsepowered]

[By now, Chiron has an idea of what to expect from Araneans. It's an advantage of participating in the fights as frequently as he has, and it means he has an overall strategy developed. The question mark is what 76 will do, and so to understand that, Chiron's start is basic.

While it's appreciable that 76 is aiming to distract their opponent, it doesn't suit Chiron's weapon of choice. His own long range skills means that he's the better distraction, and to try and indicate to 76 that right now, he's got it, Chiron takes aim at the body of the Aranean in question, who has forgone armor as befitting her age. With the flurry of arrows, one or two are bound to hit. It's unspoken encouragement for 76 to do what he does best.]

[mylawn]

[It’s his own instincts kicking into gear, the inherent desire to put himself in the line of fire before anyone else that has him making the misstep, drawing the attention of the Aranean without stopping to think about how it makes her a harder target for Chiron.

Luckily, Chiron’s aim is true, and their opponent wheels around on him, moving with lightning speed in the direction the arrows were shot. 76 stays on the Aranean’s heels, moving in closer and aiming to strike one of her legs out from under her, an attempt to get her stumbling.]

[horsepowered]

[Perfect. Chiron's face remains stoic as he begins a hasty retreat, managing to fire at the Aranean as he runs backward. Never mind how he manages it (but having four legs would be such an advantage here), but the arrrows keep going.

They're all aimed upwards at the torso, meant to distract her while 76 focuses on her many, many legs. It's a solid plan from where Chiron stands, one he's happy to participate in.]

iv - welcome to tl;dr land

[dorzalta]

She attends every battle Jon and Chiron participates in. Stoic though she may be, Dany stands tall, doesn't flinch, doesn't look away. Not when they take blows, and certainly not when they slay their opponents. There's a flash of pride in the blues of her eyes when they win their battles, a smugness unmistakeable. If and when one of them catches her eye, she nods to them from the stands.

This match, however... no, no there's nothing good about it. She realizes that the moment the woman goes on the offensive. When Chiron reaches out to her through their link, part of her seems to freeze. 'Get out', she wants to tell him. Command him. There was too much at stake. They were too stupid for playing these games and risking their--

The stands roar all around her as Chiron falls. Her fingers tighten around the metal beam she's pressed against, and her throat constricts. Tighter and tighter. Chiron?

Chiron!

There's no answer.

. . .

It takes time to fight her way through the stands. Time she cannot spare as she shouted for him through their mental link. Time she does not use wisely to contact another of the Servants--Mordred's proven untrustworthy, and she does not know Siegfried well enough to speak of Chiron's sudden weakness. Strength is power, and gods, what if they'd turned on him the way the khalasar did Drogo?

No, Chiron is hers to protect, and she would protect him as fiercely as a mother would her child. She'd failed him once in Gallipoli; the same would not occur here. It takes time for her to escape the clutches of the arena, the crowds making it all but impossible to move lest she cause unintentional insult. Time that has her temper flaring, growing hotter and hotter the longer Chiron does not answer her. She's waylaid. Pulled aside by gloating Araneans who had betted against he and her.

Someone, she doesn't know who, eventually tells her that Chiron's been transported back to COST's lodgings.

. . .

Steady steps. Hard to tell how much time has passed, how much time was wasted in trying to escape. By the time she reaches the courtyard, she spares the entertainers no greeting, her focus honed on the stairwell which will lead to his room.

This is the risk that comes with having those one cares for on these sorts of missions. This is the risk of a war back home against the Army of the Undead. She could lose anyone at any point. She could die... to something as stupid as poison.

The door to Chiron's room is unlocked; she knocks regardless, waiting... waiting... and then allowing herself in when there is no answer. He's sprawled on the bed, sleeping. Oh Chiron... A flicker of emotion. Brows creasing and lips quivering as she steps closer. Someone's tended to the worst of his injuries, she realizes, carefully perching herself on the side of his bed.

It's where she'll remain seated until he awakens.

[horsepowered]

Chiron had no particular last thought before being knocked out cold. He had communicated to his Master what he needed to, and that was all. In truth, he considered the match a small mercy. Being against another archer who did not go the irony route, trying to strike him where the arrow that had caused his death had landed, felt lucky.

There is no active mental tug in their connection, but neither is there a loss of energy as there was in Gallipoli. That much is constant, perhaps more active now with injury being an issue. Chiron's still a thing of magic, meaning his own healing comes from no natural process, but from the knitting of magical tissue back together through that same energy that sustains him.

That same energy is the first thing that Chiron senses when he returns to consciousness. It's there, perhaps stronger than it ought to be (if he was awake, he'd be moderating it, of course), and that is all that matters.

Ah, are you--

He reaches out with that mental link first, before opening his eyes, before processing where he is. (Warm, with fabric over him, probably a bed, probably back where COST is residing for now).

He shifts, then opens them.

"Never mind," he says softly. "There you are."

[dorzalta]

Time passes excruciatingly slow. Her BCE notifies her of the happenings of their allies, something she reads and the forgets, uncaring of stupid and inconsequential jabbering. When it became clear he was not waking anytime soon, she'd cleaned him up as best she could. Didn't matter what she saw or didn't see--he was under her care.

The soft press of his voice in her head has Dany blinking back into focus, abandoning the BCE in favor of watching Chiron. Slow to move. Eyes cracking open. There's the hint of heaviness from fatigue, but she attests that to playing watch over him. Besides, it's so easily forgotten in the face of her relief.

A sharp exhale. "Here the second I could get out of the stands."

Not soon enough.

"How do you feel?"

What can I do, is what she means.

[horsepowered]

In truth, Chiron wouldn't have cared about what was or wasn't seen. It wasn't as if he wore clothing to cover up any part of his horse body in the past. What he was more concerned about was getting a feel for where he was at in regards to recovery, and how much longer it might take.

He made that assessment in a quiet moment. Not as much progress as he'd like, but perfectly serviceable all things considered. If he was fully mortal, the matter would be a very different story all together.

"Thank you," are the next two words out of his mouth. They need to be said, and they're repeated as Chiron shifts to sit himself up just a little bit better. The effort is not Herculean, and it is instructive as well. It's his sides that have taken the worst of it. That seems about right.

"The matter of feeling requires a few more minutes to ascertain and be certain of. Please tell me you've had food and water while sitting here."

[dorzalta]

She stills, hand lifting and hovering when he shifts. What does she expect to happen--that he'll fall over and she can catch him? He's in bed. But the reflex still stands, and it's a wonder it even occurs. Not many have tugged this side of her out; it's easier to keep their allies at a distance, after all.

"Thanking me," she hums, finally resting her palm on the mattress. She huffs. "That would mean I did something to warrant it."

She didn't protect him. She couldn't reach him.

"I've eaten." Jon's assuming he didn't die killing Kebechet lmao seen to that. "Worry less about me and more of yourself. I told you once before to take what you need."

[horsepowered]

"Fighting through crowds and ensuring that I would not wake up here alone counts quite a bit. And that you think that it's nothing at all says everything."

Chiron's words are delivered with a sort of even handedness that makes it clear that these actions are far more important to him than anything else. He made the right choice in Master, and he can only imagine that Fiore would approve of the contract as well.

"Good. I don't imagine that it was enjoyable watching me here and doing nothing." The question of how long is one that Chiron will get to in a few moments. He's able to ascertain his own mana levels now. "And before I can follow that command, I need to ask where you intend to be in the next few days in regards to these games."

[dorzalta]

He's always so composed. Even waking up here, battered from a battle she feared he may not walk away from, and he still holds that air of calm. Her brows crease and she glances down to her lap. Most of her court held their composure, but there were cracks. It was to be expected when they all grew so close, like a family. Looking back up at him, some of that calm bleeds into her own voice. "I do not abandon my people."

She lost one horse lord in the death of her husband, but she gained another in a spirit. It seems as if she would be inexplicably tied to them.

"Enough time to think." Something many of them haven't seemed to have a chance to do in this place, with the arenas open and Regency agents all about. "What's important is that you're awake. I'd not have left you in such a state alone. Not here, nor in Gallipoli."

But his question regarding the games has her finally rolling her eyes at him. Composure breaking for something a little more real, a little more huffy.

"Irriella battles for she and I." Meaning she would not be participating in court so long as he was injured. "Heal yourself."

[horsepowered]

"No, you do not."

It is a statement of acknowledging a very simple truth, but in that, in the far too put together tone, there is gratitude as well. All of it speaks volumes to Daenerys not as a ruler, but as a person, and is a reminder to Chiron that in finding someone for support, he could not have found anyone better in COST. He has known it for a long time, but never has there been so poignent a reminder.

"I am sure Irriella will triumph no matter who she faces." That is truth too. If Chiron was of a different temperment, he might have added and win no matter the cost, but puns have never been his game. "I believe I'll only need a day or two more of rest then, if she is the only one of us fighting."

The calculation is rough and something that might change, but as far as Chiron can tell, anything more will be a surprise. "But now I must ask what it is you were thinking about."