October Training

[godsoffortune]

Who: Everyone
What: Information and Training
When: September 4th
Where: Meeting Hall, the Far Shore
Summary: Training and informational sessions for newly arrived gods and shinki



In anticipation of the latest round of new arrivals, Heaven has partnered with the new gods and shinki to organize a very helpful informational reception.

It seems Bishamon's temple is unavailable this week due to business, although she has generously allowed a number of her shinki to go on with their usual tasks of passing out pamphlets and assisting the newcomers to settle in.

Gods and shinki arriving at heaven's meeting hall are, should they allow it, guided kindly towards a traditional-style dojo and banquet hall towards the back of the meeting hall itself. The gods and shinki are free to take their time during this day to learn about the details of their new life from Amaterasu's shinki or from the many veteran new god and shinki volunteers.




God Training

Newly arrived gods are escorted into a banquet hall for an informational meeting covering the basics of proper god behavior, although the minor deity conducting the meeting is in too much of a rush to take questions afterwards. They are encouraged to discuss the information with each other and ask questions of more experienced gods, as well as instructed to guide their new shinki appropriately.

Shinki Training

Various volunteers are stationed around the dojo, passing out helpful informational pamphlets. There are many shinki, including Bishamon's and Amaterasu's, who will be more than happy to train in using the borderline as well as offering a lecture on the basics of what is expected of a shinki and the importance of teamwork with other shinki and with gods. Shinki are encouraged to work together to practice what they've learned and discuss their perspectives.

The garden is available for borderline practice, and a few of the last training's slightly tattered crayon-drawn borderline targets have been brought back out and pinned to bales of straw to make a practice area. One of Amaterasu's shinki is drawing replacements with a large inked calligraphy brush. His targets are simple but elegant, but somehow, before they make it over to the target bales, they're ending up crayon-scribbled into much brighter colors. Maybe it's the child shinki who are in charge of putting them up? They do seem to be giggling a lot, and Amaterasu's artist shinki is looking more and more annoyed...

Physical Training

The dojo is stocked with a wide variety of practice weapons, traditional and modern, to offer some practice opportunity to gods who, for example, find themselves with a sword shinki but are at risk of cutting off their own toes. It's also useful for veteran new gods wishing to train with their current partner shinki.

There's an additional task that the hosts are more than willing to ask for help with. The Meeting Hall seems to be suffering an invasion of cute soot sprites. Although they're harmless little spirits, they leave smears of ash and soot wherever they go, and the shinki are running themselves ragged trying to keep the hardwood floors and white walls clean! They're handing out cleaning rags and flyswatters to squash the soot sprites flat and scrub the resulting smears away -- and, for the softhearted, butterfly nets: although they implore anyone with a net to be sure they let the soot sprites out again far, far away.

Rest and Refreshments

The meeting hall's facilities are less modernized than Bishamon's: there are rainwater barrels set out by the dojo with fresh towels for hardworking gods and shinki to wash their face and hands. The water is ice cold, so it's very refreshing, too-- brr!

By lunchtime, the banquet hall where the gods' informational session was held has been cleaned out and re-set with cushions to sit on around long, low tables. Gods and shinki who come inside for lunch will be served a plain but hearty meal, with soup, rice, fish and pickled vegetables to refresh them for the afternoon's training.

The hall will stay open even after the lunches and tables have been cleared away, so that those who want a quieter space to talk with their new partners can find somewhere in the room. Hopefully the occasional stampede of soot sprites won't be too distracting.

In Summary:

• Get all the information you can handle
• Veteran new gods and shinki are welcome to volunteer showing the ropes
• Get in some training
• Help catch soot sprite pests
• Spectate if you want
• Have fun~

Comments

[junkyarddog]

Physical Training

[Are other things happening here? Are other people even present? Ken really wouldn't know. Almost from the moment he saw the soot sprites, his predator instincts have taken him over completely. They're small, quickly moving targets; it'd be harder for Ken not to chase them, and he's not even trying.

As a result, he's streaked all over with soot, and his arms are already black all the way up to the elbows. He's not even trying to kill them, really; he's more like a dog chasing insects, doing it for the fun of catching them more than anything else. And he seems to be having a blast, even if he's getting filthy.

...actually, maybe it's partially because he's getting filthy.

He's not really chasing them to, or away from, anywhere he's supposed to be chasing them. He's just chasing for the thrill of it, and paying next to no attention to his surroundings. Has he just chased a soot sprite through an area you just cleaned, leaving a trail and big sooty handprints on the floor? (Yeah, he may be running on all fours a lot. With a lot more coordination in doing so than would normally be expected of someone supposedly human.) Has he just dived between your legs and knocked you over? Has he, by accident, chased out some sprites you were trying to get rid of and made himself actually useful? It's all entirely, and equally, possible.]


Rest and Refreshments

[Ken definitely hasn't bothered getting himself cleaned up after his exercise. He's walking in absolutely covered in soot, looking hungry and eager. No doubt Chikusa will intercept him at some point; do you want to put a stop to this modern-day Pigpen first? Perhaps before he gets too close to the food?]

prisical trainpring

[priforprince]

HUUAGH!

[ Hibiki narrowly avoids getting hit by an absolutely filthy dog, springing to one side (and dropping her teacup, which smashes on the ground) as Ken bounds past. Then, realizing who she's just been exposed to, she reaches behind herself and fumbles for something.

Cutphones....cutphones...

Her hands are shaking as she tries to get these large black headphones into place in time. ]

[junkyarddog]

[The scream is so loud that it actually manages to drag Ken's attention away from his quarry, and he stops to stare at Hibiki. When he realizes who it is, he doesn't exactly look pleased to see Hibiki, but the recognition isn't displeased, either. He stays crouched, head cocked as he looks at her.]

What're those, by - [And then he actually remembers, and stops himself.]

[priforprince]

[ --he stopped?

Hibiki freezes in the midst of putting the cutphones on, surprised. The sudden respite gives her the opportunity to stand up straighter and drop her cutphones around her shoulders, where they hang like some sort of hipster necklace. Or one of those little neck pillows. (She also owns one of those little neck pillows.) ]

Insurance.

[ Also, if he's going to watch his words, and she can therefore speak to him: ]

Clean yourself. You're unsightly.

[junkyarddog]

[Ken looks down at himself, then snorts.] What for? I'm just gonna get dirty again, b - [And, once again, he checks himself; the headphones around Hibiki's neck are a good visual reminder.

Still, it's annoying to have to remember, and he's not shy about saying so.] This is a pain. How come you hate 'byon' so much?

[It may not really occur to Ken that...he just said it, while asking her why she hates him saying it. But, on the other hand, he didn't use it as a sentence ender in this context.]

[priforprince]

[ That may not have occurred to Ken, but it sure does occur to Hibiki. Who flinches away as if she'd just been stung. ]

Sentence enders are poisonous.

[ ....so, really, she had. ]

[junkyarddog]

Words can't be poisonous, that's dumb. [Ken scoffs.] Besides, it doesn't bother anybody else. [And a thought strikes Ken, and he points a triumphant, clawed finger at Hibiki.] You're allergic.

[He seems both pleased with himself at having realized this, and like he thinks it's kind of hilarious.]

[demonsheath]

[ That is one messy... teenager. It's definitely a teenaged boy, right? The way he's moving and acting, it's almost questionable. Getting one of the towels from the rain barrels, Hannah moves to intercept- holding it up in front of him. Though really, it might be the fact that she doesn't smell human, even by shinki standards, might be as effective a stopping point. ]

I believe most people would prefer you clean up before joining them.

[junkyarddog]

[Ken isn't chasing soot sprites anymore, which means he's much easier to reason with; a stranger approaching him would have stopped him in any case, if for no other reason than wary curiosity. But the smell of this particular stranger is indeed unique enough that it's definitely a factor, and it inspires a much more questioning look than someone else with a towel might've provoked.]

What're you, byon?

[Impolite in a straightforward, thoughtless sort of way - as good an introduction to Ken as any.]

[demonsheath]

[ If that wasn't a question that Hannah had been dancing around the idea of for a while, she would have displayed far more confusion and surprise than she had. A little curious on what made him ask that particular question before anything else, but reigning it in with an uneasy smile. ]

I'll let you know when I've figured that out.

[junkyarddog]

[Ken cocks his head at this unusual reply, but he seems to more or less accept it at face value. If she doesn't know, then she can't actually tell him, right?

Of course, that does invite the natural follow-up question.]

How come you don't know, byon?

[demonsheath]

Because I'm a shinki. There are a number of things I don't know about myself.

[ It was a simple enough answer. Even more, it was the truth.

This is when she holds the towel back up, however. ]

I do know that you should clean up before going near the places where food is, however.

[junkyarddog]

Oh...I just kinda thought it was the sort of thing you'd arrive knowing about yourself even if you're a shinki, y'know? Like how we remember our names and how to talk and stuff. [In short, intrinsic personal knowledge and learned experiences even if they are shorn of their context, though Ken can't articulate those concepts very well. Still, he gets the idea across well enough.

When she holds up the towel, Ken makes a face.] I don't have to take a bath, do I...? [He's significantly more dog than most humans ever could be. He's allergic to bathing in the context of getting clean. Which is to say give him a sprinkler, a body of water, or rain, and he's perfectly happy because he's not even attempting to get clean in them.]

/remembers my dumb ass didn't respond to this, swears

[artificialrose]

[In defense: Garry's legs are obnoxiously long, with at least 25% more leg than a normal adult man would have. With such a wide opening between them, it's no wonder that a sprite would go zooming through.... or the feral dog child that's chasing it.]

[TIMBERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR]

[Yelping as he goes crashing down to the ground, Garry pushes himself up onto his elbows.]

Ken?!

[junkyarddog]

[Hearing his name, Ken skids to a stop, peering over his shoulder.] Oh, hey. [The greeting is completely casual.] How come you're on the ground, byon?

[Ken was so laser-focused on his quarry that apparently he didn't process that he just bowled Garry over at all.]

[artificialrose]

[ c h i l d ]

[That someone can be so narrowed in on chasing a tiny little sprite that they don't notice smashing through someone's legs is frankly stunning, and Garry needs at least a few seconds of gobsmacked staring before he can shake his head.]

Ken.... Those were my legs you just dove under.

[junkyarddog]

[Ken plays back the last few moments of his chase in his head - one can almost see him going through it step by step, by the movement of his eyes as he stares off into the distance - and then blinks as he finally puts it together.] Oh.

[Then he huffs.] You oughta move faster, byon!

[I mean, if Garry expected anything else from Ken, one might wonder why.]

[artificialrose]

[Patiently, Garry waits for Ken to puzzle out his own memories, shaking his head slightly in exasperation. It's not often that people actually miss him, after all....]

[And then, of course, there's that response, and he heaves out a sigh.]

And you could have not gone through the middle of my legs... why would you do that, anyway, instead of going around them?

[junkyarddog]

It was faster, byon. [Ken's reply has no hesitation, and only minuscule amounts of remorse.]

bathing time now

[kokuyoyo]

[Spoilers: Chikusa is intercepting him now.]

[With Ken's nose and ears being as sharp as they are even with no channeling, it's probably easy to pick up the scent of Chikusa (and his blood underneath his shirt again) along with the giveaway shuffle that are his feet barely leaving the floor. Once he's close enough, there's no hesitation as he reaches over to take the back of Ken's neck.]

[Congratulations, Ken. This much filthiness is enough to have Chikusa emoting, his eyebrows twitched downwards and his mouth twisting in a frown.]

You're filthy.

[Never has such heavy judgment sounded quiet.]

[junkyarddog]

[Those words tend to be synonymous with a statement - if not a demand - that Ken should shower, and so they're like alarm bells to him. Under other circumstances, he'd begin protesting, maybe even try to flee until the bath threat has passed.

But today, there's something way more important demanding Ken's attention. Even without a channel, his senses are sharper than a human's, and blood is a pretty distinct smell to a predator like Ken. His nostrils flare, and his eyes widen.]

You're bleeding. How come you're bleeding? [It's almost an accusation.]

[kokuyoyo]

I was sparring with someone.

[Which, apparently, isn't the same as an actual all and out battle, but Shun sure hadn't seemed to mind. It's not really important to Chikusa right now.]

[...Although, judging by how Ken is looking at him, maybe it's important to him.
Chikusa makes sure to add something else.]

It's stitched up and taken care of, so it's fine. Now come here.

[junkyarddog]

I wanna see, byon. [Ken demands this, scowling.] What kinda sparring were you doing where you got bloody? It's not like you were sparring with me, byon.

[Because Ken and Chikusa have sparred before, and Ken has absolutely caused some bloody wounds on Chikusa before. But it's different when he does it. He can accept Chikusa losing to him. He can accept Chikusa getting bloody because of him.

This is a definite shift from a few months ago, back when they'd been Axel's shinki. Back then, Chikusa had been the exemplar, had flaunted that inherent superiority in Ken's face while Ken insisted it didn't make him all that great - and they'd only had the one god, who was rarely around. With Axel, they'd been jockeying for position and pride, competing for the limited affection of an absentee god. Back then, when Chikusa would get one-upped or hurt, Ken probably would have laughed at the failure of the supposedly 'superior' shinki, and would have taken advantage of that to try and prove himself more worthy of Axel's favor. But their shared abandonment and changed circumstances have done an incredible amount to bring them closer in a short amount of time.

Now, Chikusa bleeding is no longer delicious schadenfreude. It's an affront. Worse, it's frightening. A Chikusa that can bleed is a Chikusa that can die, a Chikusa that might leave him behind.]

[kokuyoyo]

No. [The answer is immediate and simple.] You're filthy.

[Which isn't really wrong, at any particular moment. Saying Ken is filthy is like saying the sky is over their heads. It's basic fact that only changes sometimes, like when one is standing on their head, or Chikusa has hosed his partner down. Right now it's especially important for two reasons. The first is that Ken has surpassed his usual amount of filthy by tenfold. The second is that a still fresh wound, even if treated, doesn't need exposure to that kind of grossness.]

[And Chikusa doesn't doubt that there might be grossness. Ken is very... handsy.]

[Still... He stares into that scowling face, trying to puzzle something out, before his hand lightly nudges at Ken's neck.]

...After you clean yourself. Then you can look.

Anyway.... It was just sparring with someone who knows how to fight.

[junkyarddog]

[Ken huffs.] If they know how to fight, then they oughta know how to spar without hurting you bad enough to bleed, byon.

[He glances around at their surroundings, then up at Chikusa like a dog being held by the scruff of the neck and wondering what's next. Which, for better or worse, is pretty much exactly what he is.] How'm I supposed to clean off? [There's a very begrudging tone to his voice, but he's not actually fighting getting clean. Making sure Chikusa's wounds aren't bad is...important.]