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

[agogenpc]

The room he steps into with is dark save what floods through the door frame, that illuminates further, stretching shapes and distorting shadows. The smell of stone and earth heavy - though it is dry. Not damp, but airy. An effect perhaps, of the Ymir, how it dries the air out of moisture.

But another smell lingers, that of old blood. Long since dried and washed away, but still, it sits on the back of the tongue. A warning that perhaps is on purpose as the pillars of twisted figures. Warning that becomes obvious when one, long, white sleek spider leg emerges from the depths. Unlike so many of the court, High Queen Thsh does not don a human form over all of her body. The human face remains as it emerges at the peak of her great height.

Then her hand, lifting in a grace that borders on inhuman, as of course, she is. "Welcome, Kern." The fingers curl up and her fingers snap, and light - floods in.

A light that has no source, but it gives a warmth of firelight. It exposes a room that is more a cave of heavy stone slabs. Big and broad, impossibly huge. With many doors dinner amongst its corners. In the middle, sits a long table that has been laden with food and jewels, pearls as big as a curled human fist that hang in ropes, diamonds that fall like a tapestry of stars. Meat, raw and cooked, laid out between sweets.

Then she steps forward, stretching herself out like the predator she is to her full ten feet of height. Her body hung with a lace-like dress that covers her but hides nothing of her body. Human upper body and spider lower body. The many arms and legs that Aranean's hid away.

"Will you join me?"

[cutlery]

The first thing that sticks out to him is that heavy, metallic scent, since his eyes are able to quickly adjust to the darkness. It sends quite the message, but it isn't as if that message is unexpected. If anything, he has to continue to almost admire the Araneans for how unsubtle they were with certain things while others were such a delicate dance. However, it helped very much that this was all in line with his personal aesthetic. He had mentioned it off-handedly to a recruit or two before, but the Araneans would be perfectly at home in the company of demons. And vice versa, naturally, since as she gives her welcome and light floods the darkened room, he straightens with an easy smile.

He doesn't seem offput by any of this, from the lavish setup to her appearance being displayed so openly rather than hidden for the convenience of guests that may not take it well. But little of it is different than interacting with his brethren. Lavish affairs were commonplace, and considering his own appearance at the moment is little more than a mask for something else, he almost feels more at ease to be seeing an Aranean as they're meant to be. Though as one thing that's the Araneans certainly have over demons, it's their better manners. To say that most demons don't share his enjoyment of rules and elegance would be an understatement...

"It would be an honor, Your Majesty."

Sebastian walks closer, and he gives slightly more than a passing glance to the setup on the table. Technically, none of it has any appeal for him, but he certainly enjoys the raw beauty of it. A spread of meats, gems, and sweets seems perfectly fitting from what he knows. However, the attention doesn't linger long. He's well aware that he's in the company of someone dangerous even to him, so his attention returns to the Queen once he expresses his appreciation. Still ever following her lead as is polite, he'll make no more to sit at the table until she does.

"I must also express my thanks for the invitation. It is quite gracious, and I am pleased to speak with you," he says, and he dips his head lightly with a twinge more of a smile, "I thought it may be rude to be so presumptuous at the banquet."

[agogenpc]

The splendour of the room glitters on her irredescent skin, pearly white, inhumanly so for all she dress quite literally in their skin. The fine webbed lace that makes up the draping material of her dress fluttering as she moved an arm to settle. Her great form being what it was, so little could be so much, with a new comer especially, so she opts for slight movements, as not to startle.

"We are most pleased with your performance in our name, there is no presumption, here and now between us. Do, sit. Then we shall drink. What shall you have?"

Her hand lifts beckoning a servant that until now was doing their best impression of a shadow. "Wine, or something richer?"

[cutlery]

Graciously, he takes his seat with a delicate nod of his head. His attention briefly flickers to the servant, but it's only a slight acknowledgment of their presence. For how his attention stays on the queen, they might as well have stayed shadows.

"Richer?" he questions curiously, but his smile slips towards wry, "That would likely be my choice regardless, but to ask all the same... Richer how?"

It isn't as if he dislikes wine (far from it), but considering Aranean culture, he has a feeling that "something richer" is probably more to his tastes. Any kind of food or drink doesn't really do anything for him, since a demon's diet is more ethereal, but a demon is still a demon. The more dark and decadent an offering is, the more likely they are to enjoy it.

[agogenpc]

The servant steps forward. For a servant, she is well dressed, of course - a member of the royal household, and to serve the Queen personally, why would she have something ugly in her sight? A delicate, thin-skinned creature that offered first ice, a cool handful that she dropped into Sebastien's glass, in the centre of the little frozen of pebbles sat jewels of many colours.

Then her arm, risen up and held over the glass and a silver blade. A line of cuts that said what was about to happen before she lifted the blade to a spot just below her elbow. Now with one more, as she pressed the blade to her skin. Slicing one neat, practised line that bubbled blood at the surface, spilling down in the glass. Rich, red, and dark. The jewelled ice floating to the top.

From her seat, the Queen lifts her fingers to her lips, watching his reaction. Curious, pressing, waiting for the curl of disgust or appreciation. "I do so prefer it fresh. With your display, it felt only right to treat you to something similar."

[cutlery]

Beautiful.

He really does find the Araneans and their ways beautiful, but there really is something exquisite and savory about this scene. A servant offering her blood so freely and without hesitation to fall in a crystal glass of ice and jewels is just the sort of thing that a demon would dream about. Granted, he doesn't have the taste for flesh and blood that others might, but it only means his reaction is one of reserved appreciation rather than hunger. He's not sure how, but he thinks that if there was a way for Araneans to summon him to service... He would very much enjoy truly being a part of their machinations rather than an outsider playing his part.

He takes the glass in his gloved hand once it's "full", and just as if it were a glass of wine, he brings it to his nose first to smell it. The rich and metallic smell is just as pleasant to his sense as a glass of wine would be, but when he looks up to the Queen again, his eyes have a different quality. Whether it's something intentional or not is hard to tell without knowing him better, but rather than a more natural, human amber color, his irises much more closely match the blood. They're a vibrant, deep red that almost seems to glow with its iridescence, and his round pupils have narrows into slits. While the change doesn't carry any more magical sensibility with it, it's as clear a marker of any of his inhumanity.

"Then you have my thanks," he says as he raises the glass lightly in a polite, if subdued toast, then takes a sip of it. Not too much, since he'd hate to have a drop slip onto his clothing, much less to waste it. And just as much to express it further without giving platitudes as to slip into convesation, he continues, "To consume freely is not often an opportunity I am afforded. It draws far too much attention, since generally speaking, humans do not approve. To say the very least, I am sure."

[agogenpc]

She croons with it, lifting the glass of her own as it is filled just the same by her servant. Filling it in a trickle from the other arm, splashing into the depths of the cup before the Queen lifts it in turn.

Then at once - watching him, it is simply too much. The shift of magic on him, the way it slides over his skin, changing him. Her teeth bared, open set fangs. "- Wait. Hold yourself."

An order, but breathlessly given. Her cup balanced in her fingers. "We drink, together." Custom to be observed, manners to be upheld. Would not do to let them go so early in the evening.

[cutlery]

The order is immediately followed without so much as the wry smile that he wants to crack. It's definitely dangerous to toy with her in such a way, since COST had warned him of the very real danger that he could be eaten by the Araneans, but millenia of arrogance do a lot for your self-confidence. He may not underestimate them, but he still feels comfortable enough to push at every rule set out before him. After all, he understands the hunger of having a delicacy on display before you. He wants to see how the most refined of Araneans would deal with such a temptation.

"Ah, do pardon me," he responds smoothly, and the apology in his tone at least sounds perfectly genuine, "I forget myself to other manners."

He gives her a smile that's perfectly charming, but with another slight tilt of his glass, this time, he waits.

[agogenpc]

"We would hate for this... to get away from ourselves so early in the meal."

Her black eyes glitter, her fingers wrapped cooly around the stem of the glass as she lifts it - up in the practised motions of the toast with the sharp bark of Skol. The order given for the meal to begin.

Though her eyes do not leave him as she knocks back the glass of the fresh blood. Rich and heady to the last sip. But she knew she would enjoy it - it was him she was more curious about.