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[This is written in a fairly neat handwriting, in a language that may look roughly similar to Arabic to those familiar with it. The paper on the bulletin board has a small note on top, with a lot of space on the rest of the page for people to fill in as needed.]

Since we're all from different worlds and cultures I think there are a few things we should probably get sorted out as a group. First thing should probably be how to address each other. Go ahead and write your name/title/what you want to be called, your gender identifier if that's important to you, and pronouns to use for you.

Kai, he/him

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[wait hang on]

You don't get any choice in your culture?

[that is... somehow even more bullshit than the Arike.]

No?

They... when they're hatched, slings tend to all look the same, so are raised as a cohort. Then when we're about... eight, typically, the molting process reveals differences. Size, fluffiness, and color tend to be the most noticeable differences. Aside from a few outliers, that tends to be the criteria everyone's separated on. Sometimes a male might be larger, or duller in color, or a female might be smaller and brighter, but it's not the norm.

So it's based on features of your bodies? What if you do not feel suited to the role your gender would put you in?

It is, yes.

Sometimes females might leave. One of my sisters... she didn't really fit what a drider female was expected to be. So she left. To... the Surface I think? But she's not allowed to return. Males don't really have that choice. If we're ill-suited, our mothers likely would have simply eaten us at some point. Or perhaps our siblings would have, depending on the clutch.

[what]

I'm sorry, eaten them?

Oh! It's... well someone else mentioned that isn't a thing in most humanoid species. I'm a drider. Arachnoid, I believe they said? But yes. Mothers might eat their young if they're ill. Siblings might eat each other if competition is allowed to become that heightened. A female will almost certainly eat her mates once they've sired a few clutches.

I was... somewhat safe from being eaten growing up. The eighth child is considered lucky. I still had to be careful of course, but at least Mother didn't try and make a snack of me.

[he doesn't know what to say to any of that.]

I see.

This might be a strange question to you, but what is the purpose of it? I think I understand the competition angle, and perhaps the illness, but why a mate after there are children?

Well, once a male's sired a clutch, there's not really much more need for him. Some might wait- if a male is from a line that sires desirable traits or tends to father higher numbers of females, they might be kept for longer. Or if a female genuinely likes their Consort they might wait to eat them until they're no longer able to sire more- that's a bit more romantic though.

Most of the time now it's considered a bit wasteful to only get one clutch before eating a Consort, but traditionalists still might on occasion.

ok but

why eat them at all?

why not just let them live?

I don't know, honestly. I think... in smaller settlements it might be a matter of too many mouths to feed. Aside from that, simply tradition? And if a sibling murders another in competition for power, it's a waste to let the body just rot.

I... wasn't really allowed to ask about things like that.

[oh, that he's familiar with. he remembers Dahin telling him something similar, when he was still young.]

I've never understood that. In the first family I lived with, if you asked questions they just sent you to the elders to learn useful things.

Males aren't supposed to ask questions. It's not... seemly.

[well that's stupid]

I've found that it's usually more about control than people caring what is 'seemly.'

But obviously I don't know much about your culture.

[he still thinks it's probably about control.]

It's... not supposed to be. I think?

[But then by definition he's not one of the ones in control, so how would he even know?]

The Mothers all are supposed to look out for us. Make sure we're strong. A healthy part of the Unending Weave. That's... what we're told, anyways.

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