[b]After the match[/b] The end of an arena match always involves some cleanup and a chance to calm down and think through what happened. When the fight is done, the pilots need to leave the combat zone. If they can all fly out under their own power, that’s done easily enough. If they can’t, there are smaller ships and tugs to get things out of there and in the worst cases the scrap will become material for the arena itself to reuse in the future. Many pilots find the flight back a good opportunity to cool down and collect themselves, though plenty also use the time to go over the details, get their AIs working on new tasks, and sometimes simply beat themselves up with their alone time. Sometimes, you have to give your opponent a lift. One way or another though, what’s left of both combatants needs to get to a hangar so they can rest and depart the planet. The Arena itself, made as an achievement of Zaldarian nanobot manipulation, is ever-shifting but it always leaves room for copious hangar bays in each region. Sometimes they’re hidden via caves and tunnels. Sometimes they’re just below the surface. Sometimes they’ll simply be out in the open in sections of the arena outside of any combat zones. There are always directions to them once a match is over. However they appear, every hangar is going to smell of metal, grease, and heat from the constant work. Every mecha needs its own dock: a place to refuel its crystal fire drive with dense heavy element fuel that can be converted to energy by way of the strong nuclear force, to repair and recharge its armor and shielding, and to do retrofit work. On top of that, work in the Arena simply cannot be entirely automatic, so every hangar is going to have space for shuttles and courier ships to bring in and rotate crews, attached living space for temporary stays, and storage for all the tools and materials. The result is a constant hum of activity, the merging sound of metal, power, and bustling people creating a general din and liveliness to any Arena hangar. Once you reach a hangar, there’s the repairs and departure. Services are free, but many pilots are picky and will bring their own mechanics. Besides, modifications are permitted in the time between matches so long as you lock things in and allow your mecha to be inspected the day before the match. Very few pilots stay on the Arena itself for too long. It’s not the best place to sleep and the facilities are minimal. And after a match there is always a night to celebrate or drown your sorrows and then a day to sleep that off. It should perhaps be noted that day and night are a bit abstract when dealing with the positions of three distinct planets orbiting the same star, but each planet in the Akar system makes an effort to accommodate shared time around the arena matches, so whether it’s light or dark when you come in, there’s time for a party, time to sleep, and time to deal with the physical and mental repairs and preparations needed to enter the next match. *** [b]The opening night festivities![/b] Following this season opener, there’s a gala special event on tap for everyone who wants to be seen. [i]La Plataforma[/i] is hosting a fashion show on Akar Prime! [i]La Plataforma[/i], originally founded in the Terenius Secundus system, is one of the largest fashion magazines in the galaxy. They distribute reviews, pictures, patterns, and juicy gossip on the latest trends and trendsetters throughout the known systems and they’ve recently expanded from TC space into both Hybrasilian and Zaldarian space with minimal objection. Couriers run their neural meshes from planet to planet, and you can also get files for both biological species and AI assemblers to make their patterns or just view their catalog of the latest styles in any form you can manage: high or low tech. They’ve calculated that the combination of huge crowds for the matches, potential buyers from across the civilizations, and the chance to attract the pilots to sponsor designer clothing lines makes hosting a fashion show during the Arena season a winning move here. If they’re lucky, a popular pilot will maybe even appear in one of the fashions in the next match, causing it to really take off and cementing [i]La Plataforma[/i] themselves as the trendsetting visionaries of the known galaxy. So they’ve made a big deal of it. A really big deal. The kind of big deal that involves renting out most of a city block of some of the most populous and desirable real estate in the galaxy. The kind of big deal that means throwing out news of this thing on holovids for the past month, doing a cross-promotion with the Akar Prime travel bureau to put up adds in the arrival hangers for the planet and in all the civilian shuttles, and putting up actual, honest to gosh physical banners about this thing all around the spaceport. People will be singing the jingle for the fashion show ads for decades. The core of the production is being hosted at the Jungle. They’ve rented out the entire building both bar and rec center, and brought in their own crew to clear out the recreation area to act as a huge dressing room and runway, while the bar serves as a viewing area (and also still a bar, making for a lively crowd!). The stage is set up on the far side of the building from the door in a kind of T-shape with the models able to line up on the long section of the stage while the thinner runway ramp is still wide enough for several people to be coming and going at the same time in a constant rotation. The whole thing is raised up over ten feet with every kind of lighting you could imagine. Rather than try to fight the aesthetic, they’ve gone all in on the Jungle’s Hybrasilian theming: the stage is decorated along its base and lower walls with curling wide-leafed ferns. The center walkway and main stage are open, but the leaves wind their way up the sides of each wall and curl in towards participants on the ends. Vines dangle from the ceiling and the lighting has been cunningly done to mix in with the vines to create a diffuse glow from above along with the usual spotlighting, giving the whole space an ethereal air to it with only the stage itself clearly lit so everyone can see the clothes. Partially concealed in the area to the left of the stage is a lower and smaller stage setup for the DJ and sound techs. The Jungle’s regular DJ apparently was good enough to be hired for this and she’s got a Hybrasilian fast beat girl group playing for the guests even before the models are going to get everyone ready for the final setup. In front of them is the VIP area for the photographers to make sure they can get all the appropriate close up shots. The bar itself hasn’t moved, but the tables and chairs have been cleared out and put into storage so that the entrance is a huge open room where people can mix and congregate. Wait staff offer champagne and wine, while the bar has bottles with liquor in every imaginable shape and color, some even gleaming and sparkling in the ethereal light. The only furniture items are a few covertly placed drink drop-offs around the sides of the room and a small section of chairs set up to the front right side of the stage reserved to account for elderly or infirm guests who wanted to attend. But wait, there’s still more! The upstairs section above the stage has been opened up and turned into a two tier balcony viewing area with yet another set of photographers, VIP guests, and its own bar specially set up for the space. Stepping away from the balcony railings offers a space with standing tables lit by deep purple uplights to allow for people to relax, chat, and step away from the glamor for a moment into the shadows. Not content with this full out building setup, there are also two overflow rooms in the building next door and cameras are set up to locally broadcast the whole event. The overflow rooms are getting a perfect 3d recreation in real time, while everybody else is getting whatever their home setup allows for. When this is done, neural meshes of the event and impressions from the top critics will be shipped out of the system and across the galaxy. Outside the buildings, guests are lined up on the street and the area is full of life, light and noise from all the traffic. A route has been set up for small shuttles to ferry people directly to the venue as well via a second-story entrance. The smell of sizzling street food fills the air as local vendors have set up at the entrances to the block just away from the lines and they’re making a variety of barbecue buns (meat and veggies of all types and all constitutions) known to be an Akar prime specialty. As for the show itself, well, it will be a party through the evening. The first hour is specially reserved for up and coming designers who entered a [i]La Plataforma[/i] contest to have their work shown. Models are being provided for the young up and comers for free from the more established houses, and this offers an opportunity for several rising new artists to show off their clothing lines. Styles were selected on the theme of “shatter the norm!” so the expectations are for the outlandish and wild to start things out. For the second hour, multiple major designers are premiering new lines tonight. Three major TC fashion houses are present to offer contrasting perspectives from the most populous region of the galaxy. One from TC Prime that specializes in ball gowns, one from Shiki that emphasizes more elegant and old-fashioned dresses for both afternoons and evenings, and one from Styx showing off a modern witch style that emphasizes long sleeves with form-fitted bodies. One of the Zaldarian hold artisans from nearby Marinus will be showing a new line of sleek body-fitted designs with nanobot shifting technology that allows for constant pattern adjustment in response to light and movement. These are meant to contrast with the more old-fashioned Zaldarian hold style, which emphasized longer robes with lots of fabric as a sign of wealth and nanobot control. Finally, it’s rumored that the final line premiering will be something new from the elusive designer Mayze Szerpaws. When the whole thing is all done, the designers and the models will join the party still wearing various outfits from the show to allow for discussion, questions, closer inspection, and general festivities, and finally sometime late at night after everyone is satisfyingly drunk, they will all go home and pass out while the techs work feverishly until morning to get the whole experience imprinted onto neural mesh templates for distribution. *** [b]Mirror[/b] Valentina De Alcard has dressed to kill for the night. Despite her tiny mecha, she’s not a tiny woman by any means. While not a giant either, she is a sturdy five foot five (seven in her heels), made longer by a long neck accented by sparkling diamonds and absolutely nothing else. Her black hair is up in a thick styled bun, and her dress is shoulderless, revealing the two-tier rows of diamonds upon her olive neck and bare skin down to her half-revealed breasts. The dress itself is a purple lavender that’s lighter at the top and darkening going down to its pleated base. The upper rim is bordered in black, outlining her breasts and the curve of her back, and the bottom darkens almost to midnight to match her high-heeled black leather boots. You’d think she’d be throwing her weight around with a look like this, but she’s aimed for a look of reserved and dignified poise to start the evening and is giving you deference despite you being the tiny catgirl in this situation. How are you appearing for the evening? *** [b]Dolly[/b] “Ai! There you are!” shouts an irate Angela Victoria Miera Antonius. She’s found you in the shadows of the upper balcony, among several other Hybrasilians who love the plants and the perch. You got a VIP pass of course, given your premier match and you actually need to be hiding a bit from the solicitations to accept free clothing. But Angela came and found you through it all. She’s wearing a fancier dress than her mecha might have offered. Long and black with a train down past her legs and a low cut neck that accentuates her height. It’s sewn with thread that sparkles and glitters in the dim light as she moves, and her hair too has been worked with glitter and is down and loose around her glasses, so that each step she takes it’s like a rainbow playing across her. But now she steps quickly and with purpose, pulling a thin neurofiber from her gold-trimmed handbag and thrusting it in your face, close enough that you can start to see the words imprinted within it. Goddess Gags Haughty Heiress and oof, you know that one’s gotta sting even without her thrusting it in your face with knuckles that look like they’d be just as at home at a boxing ring as they would with that delicate handbag. “What’s the meaning of this, huh? You put on an act to embarrass me? You hold back and you flaunt and you rip up my mecha, and and AND you make fun of the name, huh? You think you can get away with this? Tell me your game, Dolly Hunters!” She drags your name out too, like she’s not even sure if that’s part of the trick or not. You’re in trouble. *** [b]Isabelle[/b] You’re at the show with an entourage. Everybody wants to be seen with you, all the designers want to hire you, the photographers want to shoot you. But you’ve also got the VIP treatment. People are here to fetch you drinks and make sure they never run dry. You’ve got your pick of tables, food, and conversation before the show. You can talk to nearly anyone in the room (save the mysterious Serpaws, who makes her own mind subject to no one’s fame.). This life is an odd sort of freedom and jail all together. You have nearly complete freedom of choice, but every choice you make is subject to attention, to judgment, to fandom. What’s it like? What’s your choice for the show? Do you hold yourself aloof, or show favor to the designers? Do you pick a favorite? Do you take gifts or spurn them? Tell us all about yourself. *** [b]Solarel[/b] A hot meal and a long rest might have sounded good at the end of your match, but you're in a land of wonders and mysteries everywhere and tonight there's a bigger one at the Jungle than anywhere else to be found. You've pulled yourself to the bar and the wait staff are being careful (Zaldarians may be recent on the galactic stage, but they've had a few years to practice their agility and get used to the requirements). You've barely had a chance to take in the sights and sip your first drink when a thick, heavyset tiger of a cat walks up to you and punches you square in the chest. "That's how your people do greetings, right?" She grins her cat grin, secure in the knowledge that she cannot possibly be punished for her crimes.