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

[bivariant]

[ The longer she speaks, the more distinct it becomes that Jedao bleeds throughout her. The inflections in her tone shift, words drawn out into more of a drawl, something rich and controlled and consistent as the motion of her hands, untrained fingers given way to a little more flash, a little more subtle charm. It lacks the depth and wickedness of obsessive, paranoid Shuos tricks -- both because Cheris's frustrations leak through from time to time ( the flex of fingers, to curl into a fist; the huff of breath through her nose -- ) and because the both of them concede the point: Sebastian doesn't seem the type to be fooled by them. ]

Six is the currently favored number.

[ S/he commits, and flicks the top card of the spread over with a mild 'hm'. The Apple, the sixth card of the deck is displayed. ]

They were philosophers. Very much in love with the inner workings of the self, the complexities of the psyche, the deep, dark places where you hide away the nature of things. Cheris -- [ at that, Cheris starts, and the conversation flickers for a moment. Naming herself in the third person is enough for her to need a moment, to measure her control of the situation and find it lacking. Keeping up with Jedao is a difficult task, after all. Discussing heresy makes her teeth ache, her mind numb and slow, her heart burn with some sort of dread and fury. ] Cheris hates that I'm talking about them. There's a point somewhere in there. Here, [ and she taps the Apple card. ]

"Of the beast"?

[ Has s/he surmised correctly? ]

[cutlery]

Also fitting.

[ A bout of sixes or a thirteen and he would certainly feel amused at the coincidence. Or perhaps actual divination? He can't be sure, since that's a threshold of magical ability far too subtle for him to pick up on, since his own sensitivity to magic only goes as far as what's blatant. In any case, the designer's choice of six being an apple is an interesting one. He thinks to himself that if he has the time, he'll have to inquire about these cards, though that's simply a curiosity at their symbolism in a world long divorced from humanity.

He looks up again as the heretics are described, and he's somewhat surprised by the criteria, though it does make Cheris make a bit more sense, especially with her discomfort as that's what the subject moves to. In a place where philsophers were heretics, then the aims of COST would seem to fall more in line with that than the Regency.

How interesting. He has to wonder at times how COST decides to pick their recruits.

Elegantly, he gestures to the card. ]

"You will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil."

[ He's not sure if they'll recognize the passage, since its reach may not extend that far, but it's a wry half-answer to both the idea of philosophers as heretics and to the more direct question. Normally, he might simply leave it at that or dance around the truth more, but thankfully for all three of them, there's little need. His hands settle in his lap primly, and he nods. ]

I am hardly the serpent, but we are not dissimilar. I am a demon, though to be clear, not the sort prone to chaos. That may be self-evident, however.

[bivariant]

[ Or perhaps, in the end, it's a dead man with clever hands that continue to work from beyond the grave. One that Cheris fears she cannot contain, despite his value as a resource for both the hexarchate and COST. Even Jedao needs his recreational time, and there are few to pit him against that he would not eat alive. Which -- reminds her of the rumors, flowing from the stadium brawls. Something about how the man before her had done as their voracious hosts did, in victory. Consume, devour. Biting into Aranean meat as she might take a bite into an apple ( a tangerine -- ), the juice warm on her fingers.

The silence that greets Sebastian's elegant quote is not deafening, just calculating. Something in Cheris's face twitches, the curl of a smile on her unsmiling mouth. The muscle memory of the man surgically attached to her mind, peering through the veil of his undeath. It's evident enough that there is no sense of "god" in either of their memories, it simply is not an element of social consciousness that exists in the hexarchate, where faith was to be placed in the calendar, in the order of things. ]

Finally, we begin to meet the one behind all those clever masks. The pleasure's mine.

[ What happens, when a demon meets an avatar of war? ]

I think "god" sounds like a micromanaging prick, [ Jedao-through-Cheris laughs, tapping her finger on the card s/he's turned up between them. That sweet, golden apple that peers out of a spread that is not traditional to the Norn cards. This is not divination, there is no true fortune in this, no element of the supernatural will find its way into a Shuos spread, because like all things, there is a deliberateness to the cards he's laid out. This is one more degree of conversation, one more game within the countless games Jedao plays: ] Few things are obvious about you, Sebastian. But, order comes naturally to those of us who understand not only caution, but opportunity.

[ S/he pushes the card aside, turns the second over - exposing the face of the next "lie". The Helm.

Jedao-through-Cheris makes a curious noise, as though perplexed by the card: ] Huh. Mutability of identity. And here I thought the Apple was a blunt instrument.

[cutlery]

[ He seems comfortable in the silence, as if it's something he's accustomed to. It is not uncommon, after all, for him to be greeted by it once he reveals what he truly is. It tends to fall into one of two categories, even. There's a silence from shock, the sort of realization that people have when they realize they're sitting before something impossible and dangerous all at once. But there's also a different sort, and the one he thinks he's seeing here. For some, the stories they've heard of demons don't matter. They could know that they were vicious and manipulative creatures, but that paled in comparison in the face of the opportunity such a creature offered.

...Though he wonders how far those stories may carry, even so. His quoting of scripture hadn't garnered a reaction, and though it wouldn't be unsurprising to school one's expressions in front of him, he wouldn't expect it from that. It was meant to draw a reaction, and the lack thereof is telling enough. Not of anything directly useful, but simply interesting in a larger sense.

As the silence breaks, Sebastian laughs, and it's cool and pleasant. He bows his head lightly in a rather wry show of acknowledgement. ]

So indeed. With my apologies for being indirect, but it is rather difficult to discern how such a thing will be taken. It does not do for anyone if I am to be chased down by the misinformed and the righteous.

[ He says, as if he doesn’t deserve that completely.

But Sebastian doesn’t say much about it, nor does he comment on the matter of god. That’s quite the conversation in itself, and a demon’s opinions on god are easily enough answered with a sly smile. ]

That is what I hope for. When one has lived as long as long as I, you do obtain an eye for such things. Opportunity is often fleeting, but it is never obscure to those that know the more subtle or obscure forms it can take. [ And as if on cue, he cants his head lightly at the card with an easy smile. ] Is that the sort of thing you tend to see?

[ He's being purposefully vague here, and there's a sense at how he looks at both of them now that he's speaking to them in equal turn. As if he's having a conversation with two separate people, it's a question posed to each of them, and yet, he doesn't respond with his own thoughts to that card. He's no stranger to these careful dances of conversations, and just as much as he's curious about the answer, he's absolutely testing them Jedao's skill. ]

[bivariant]

[ The unknown causes Cheris to retreat upon tenants she comprehends and maintains, by virtue of being a soldier of the hexarchate. In direct opposition, when Jedao is met with something new, something unknown ( something dangerous -- ) he leans into it, leaving the two of them to juggle practicality and a voracious appetite for investigation. There is a reason she is Kel, and he is Shuos, and it is a thing that travels throughout them both, down to the core of their person. There is no scripture in their universe, only doctrine -- no devils or demons, only the calendar and heresy against it. Multifaceted, formless heresy.

( She doesn't perceive Sebastian as heretical, only exotic - in the way that she would observe an Andan contact. A measure of mistrust, a healthy dose of disregard. The Kel were notorious for their fanaticism and xenophobia, after all. Their lives and hearts and minds given only to the hexarchate-proper. COST is an extension of her empirical duties, that is how she has accepted her position among it. Her companions, then, are extension of herself. It all relates back, one variable at a time, to the root of the formula. ) ]

Neither of us mind what you are, Sebastian. Honestly, we don't understand it, either.

[ Cheris feels her fingers curl, habitual for Jedao, the way her stillness is habit for her. ]

You're our companion, for the moment. We'll get as much out of you as you'll give, and should the day come when your time with us comes to an end... well. It'll be an amenable parting, or [ Cheris's shoulders shrug, her mouth pulling into something like a regrettable smile: ] something else entirely.

[ Between them, the Helm looks more like an elegant crown - close to the one worn by Queen Thsh. It draws the attention back to it, as though Cheris has not just permitted the general to "dib" the right to throw his reputation as an unstoppable force against someone inhuman. Someone they do not know the limits of, but have already assumed to be difficult for even COST's resources to handle. By the way her hand steadies and her mouth pulls into a frown, it's Cheris who answers him first: ] Your conversation makes my head hurt, you both speak in mazes. Games within games atop games, Shuos tricks and... clever tongues. This place suits you both. Jedao's been drawing cards all night, so he's trying to say something about all three of us.

[ No wonder she lets Jedao's handling ride at the forefront. Fairly, he answers second, after what could only be conveying his words to Cheris -- who scoffs before conveying them to Sebastian: ]

She's right. I've been fondling this deck since the day I got it. The next card is the Dagger, the card after that is the Eye. We both want to know what the other's gleaning throughout this, after all. It's the eyes, [ and s/he tosses down the two cards, one after the other. The Dagger, the Eye. As promised. Behind Cheris, Jedao's shadow stretches. Burning eyes aloft, like a crown. ] and who observes the most, that walks away with the upper hand. This is... just all shit. It's a Shuos spread, won't tell me a thing about you that you don't give me.

[ And suddenly, as if offering the most tantalizing fruit: ] There's something we want to do, and... we need the best candidates for the job.

[cutlery]

[ It gives him a much stronger sense of the answer to the question he was quietly wondering, and the answer is fascinating. He’s old, impossibly so by what he has to call Earth standards by now, and that comes with a degree of routine. He’s watched humanity flourish, fall, and repeat it all over again many times, and they’re predictable in that. It’s a system he thrives in and profits off, because he can predict how humans will react with an alarming degree of accuracy.

However, COST does offer something new. There are people like Cheris (and Jedao) who seem to have existed separately from it. There are hints and commonalities, but it would be hard to ever imagine a human saying they don’t understand him. Granted, they never do, because demons are far more than stories and scripture could ever describe, but there’s a framework. They know that demons are vicious tricksters, and that’s enough. When that’s not so ingrained, it’s nothing short of fascinating because it’s new. ]

Ah, well. I cannot say whether you should mind or not, since I am biased in the matter, but understanding— [ He gestures gracefully, idly but wide as if welcoming ] You are always welcome to ask me whatever you wish. There are some things I cannot answer, as they come with prices I am not free to charge at the moment, but anything “free”? Certainly. I enjoy speaking with you.

[ With a wry smile, he nods to the shadow ] Both of you, as it were.

[ He settles back again for the rest of the reading, though the wry smile doesn’t slip away into politeness this time. It’s a perfectly true “prediction”, because this game of words may not be as loaded as one with an Aranean, but it’s still a game of information. He’s curious about them both, because there’s a familiarity in the situation he wouldn’t have expected. Sebastian reaches forward and picks up the Eye, and his appreciation of the artwork is genuine, but it’s also the quiet gesture of which side he favors of the pair.

And of course, his interest is piqued. Like dangling a steak in front of a wolf, someone asking for his help is a tantalizing prospect. He can’t “charge” for it, certainly, but it may just be a part of what he is. Sebastian shifts and crosses a leg as his posture shifts to be more casual. It’s disarming and amenable, and it’s something he’s acutely aware of. If he’s striking a deal, he wants it to be favorable. ]

My, then I am all ears. What did you have in mind?