#tauhrelian nobility

[belafujoshisdead]

Each of the seven pillars belongs to one of Tauhrelian society’s seven ruling families. Tauhrelian society greatly values beauty, in the sense of living in beautiful places and creating beautiful things - so much so that it’s considered a ruling family’s duty to contribute to that beauty in some way, whether it be through patronage or curation or direct creation (and typically a combination of all three). Over time, this led to each family associating themselves with one of seven major art forms, the better to distinguish themselves from the other ruling families, eventually leading to the present, where each pillar region is essentially the capital of a different art form.

Below each of the ruling families is a group of seven subruling families that answers to, works with, or serves under the ruling family directly. Each group of seven subruling families oversees a further forty-nine noble families, each of whom in turn oversee a district of the general population. For each of these 1 ➡ 7 ➡ 49 hierarchies, the families comprising them style themselves in different ways, each relating to their pillar’s associated art.

Overview of the seven families’ regnal stylings and art forms:

Tauhrelil

Under the Tauhrelil family are the Seven Key-Bearers, named for seven obsidian keys received directly from the Tauhrelil family as symbols of their status. These keys are actually ceremonial obsidian scalpels, as scalpels are considered “keys” that unlock the secrets of the human body. Below the Seven Key-Bearers are the 49 Acolytes, who seek the same knowledge, but don’t have the same proximity to tauhreliili secrets given by the obsidian keys.

Their pillar’s art is body mods and organica. The Tauhrelil family have been at the forefront of body modifications and organic technology for nearly their entire traceable history, producing new techniques and innovations with every generation; by now, they’re so well-known for it that the word tauhreliili (initially only meaning “of or similar in nature to the Tauhrelil family”) has become a word to describe something as a stroke of mad genius. The Tauhrelil name dominates the scientific community, and their region is home to more labs, research facilities, and the like than any other in world (especially if all their field research stations and outposts are counted as part of their territory). It’s easier to count the number of Tauhrelil family members who haven’t pursued some form of science than it is those who have.

Ilisaf

Below this family are the seven Most Brilliant Facets of House Ilisaf, the families who best reflect their ruling family’s light and vision unto the rest of the world. Below the seven facets are the first forty-nine families listed in the Book of Radiant Names, whose own name is a veiled reference to the ‘stock’ of luminary families with names luminous enough to potentially replace any imperfect Ilisaf facet.

Their pillar’s art is hard light. It was an Ilisaf who developed the first version of hard light, and the Ilisaf family have a much stronger sense of ownership towards their art than is seen in other ruling families. In most generations of the Ilisaf family, the heir is brought up to continue the family’s political dynasty, while second daughters (or a first cousin, if the heir has no sisters) pursue careers in hard light science or artistry. Though both ‘sides’ of the family work well together, there’s still a sense of separation between them – enough that people speak of ‘political’ vs. ‘scholarly’ Ilisafs (but never in earshot of any Ilisaf family members).

Seket

Under the Seket family are the Seven Celestial Dyers, who claim descent from the first seven children of the union between Aira (mythical founder of the Seket family) and Au Melai Menari Otauriket (goddess of night, beauty, and the loom, with whom Aira is said to have founded their line, and through whose name the Seket family first claimed authority). Below the Celestial Dyers are the forty-nine members in the Order of the Painted Hand, noble families who claim lesser divine or semi-divine heritage from the mythology surrounding Au Melai and Aira.

Their pillar’s art is textiles, clothing, and fashion. Once, the Seket family crafted textiles themselves, using techniques passed down through their family and known only to them; however, they stopped doing so many generations ago, as they became convinced that that kind of manual work was beneath them. By now, no living Seket knows how to do what their ancestors did, and none of them care to relearn. The family remains influential in fashion and aesthetics, but they’re almost totally divorced from the craft of it and tend to simply pick and choose what they like from the works of other people from their region. These days, the family creates very little on its own.

Tekkar

The Tekkar family views their pillar region’s population as a sprawling tree of life, with their pillar - and, by extension, the Tekkar family itself - as the trunk which supports all other growth. Below them are the seven Great Branch Houses, supporting much, but still dependent on their trunk. Spreading from the Great Branch Houses are the forty-nine Flowering Houses, who display the region’s bounty and beauty to the rest of the world. (Uncommonly for this setting, Tekaari subruling and ruling families often dress in darker, subtler clothing, as if to set themselves apart from gaudier “display” nobles.)

Their pillar’s art is botany and horticulture. Breeding, growing, arranging, and shaping any and every kind of plant life, whether it be natural or man-made – in fact, most of the latter come from the Tekkaari pillar region to begin with. Tekkaari botanical innovations are highly advanced and frequently overlap with organic technology; applications range from culinary to aesthetic to medical to architectural. The Tekkar pillar houses many vast gardens, and the Tekkar family itself owns the most extensive collection of plant specimens in the world. The Tekkar pillar region produces more drugs than any other in the world – mainly the naturally-occurring psychedelics and hallucinogens that are already legal in Tauhrelian society, but the house of Tekkar has always turned a blind eye to its region’s thriving network of illegal production, and some family members actively participate in it.

Sadehr

Under the Sadehr family are the seven Archcurators, followed by forty-nine High Patrons. It’s the Patrons’ job to find talent in the general population, fund it (both themselves and by petitioning funds from higher-ranking families), and then each year present a body of work to the Archcurators, who then decide which works (if any) are worthy of the ruling family’s eyes.

Their region’s art is the visual, which in practice is generally recognized in forms such as paintings, light displays, installation pieces – things made first and foremost to be stood before and beheld. Even so, ‘visual’ is the broadest of the seven arts, meaning a huge number of people flock to the Sadehri pillar hoping to find fame and patronage as artists – or else as patrons in search of talent to sponsor. Competition on the Sadehr art scene is vicious, and many simply can’t take the stress. However, those who do make it are essentially guaranteed lifelong success, the allure of which (and of living in a world full of beautiful art and high-class patrons) ensures that there will always be enough newcomers to replace those who leave. Sadehr family members tend to critique, collect, and curate art more than they create it; their influence is so great that even a passing comment from a Sadehr can make or break an artist’s career. The few artists that the Sadehr family personally sponsors are the nearest thing to gods in the art world.

Omatican

The Omatican family presides over the Court of Seven Masters, each of whom in turn oversees seven of the forty-nine Listeners Attendant (who serve as representatives of the forty-nine ranking families). These Listeners Attendant hear both the orders of the Seven Masters, and the words of their informants, who serve as the Listeners’ ears among their own people.

Their pillar’s art is music, which over time has expanded to include most sound-based art. Many great singers and composers are either from the Omaticaani pillar or studied there at one point. The Omaticaani pillar offers schools for music and composition, but also for public speaking, acting, speaking in code, and other, more esoteric forms of sound as art. Some artists create sound-based experiences so complex and layered that they border on architectural, while others work not with audible sounds, but in vibrations and resonances. Some create sound-based installation pieces or interactive exhibits on the scale of Zadar sea organ.

Nuremid

The first seven names below Nuremid are those of the Seven Immortal Authors, followed by the forty-nine Inkblood Scribes. The so-called Immortal Authors are an exception to numeric naming traditions among the seven ruling families – they alone count names continuously instead of in cycles of seven. The Nuremid family claims that this is to make it easier to distinguish between authors from their region.

Their pillar’s art is written work, especially literature, playwriting, and poetry. However, if it’s related to writing, then it has some kind of presence in the Nuremid pillar. Calligraphy? Speechwriting? Legal contracts? Yes to all of these and more. This variety means that just about anything that’s ever been written down finds its way into one of the pillar’s digital or physical archives at some point. (The Nuremid library is a massive column at the center of their pillar, known as the Pit of Infinite Letters.) Because of its store of knowledge, the Nuremiidi pillar region is a hotbed of historical and sociological study. If anybody needs to know something about history, genealogy, myth, ancient literature – there’s bound to be someone in the pillar who has the answers they need.

Performance arts, especially theater and executions, are considered universal art forms in the pillar cities and aren’t associated with any one family over another. They’re believed to be a fundamental part not just of community, but of human life, meaning that not even a ruling family could get away with “claiming” them. To many, the arts practiced by the seven pillars are seen as those regions’ contributions to the greater, all-encompassing art of theater.

[belafujoshisdead]

Among Tauhrelian nobility, marriage is a market for inter-family alliances first and foremost. Most members of the nobility marry at around twenty to twenty-two years of age. Marriage for Tauhrelian nobility is a rite of passage, considered a noble’s first major “adult” political act; marriage is the moment when most older highbreds start truly considering younger ones to be adults. (Those who have reached the legal age of adulthood but haven’t yet married occupy an awkward middle ground – no longer considered children, but not seen as full adults, either.)

The noble and ruling class marriage brokerage scene is a dating site run like Wall Street. Instead of dating profiles, people make marriage candidate profiles, detailing what they’re looking for and what they have to offer a prospective partner. Information points include:

Name, bloodlines, and family history

Photos and a short, initial self-description (and, if they can afford it, an uploaded 3D scan of their entire body, which can then be projected as hard light or a hologram so that anyone viewing the profile can have a detailed, full-body look at the candidate) (CLOTHED in case that was not clear the holoforms are always clothed. 3D projections are just preferred because they’re considered more accurate / comprehensive than 2D images)

Whether they’re looking to bring someone into their family or to join another family themselves through marriage

Which families and/or social tier they’re aiming to marry into

What they want from their marriage and, conversely, what a prospective partner would gain from marrying them

Which genders they’re willing to marry, and/or whether or not they have any preferences in that regard

Personal preferences regarding a potential partner’s personality, interests, appearance, etc.

In current Tauhrelian society, the construction of these profiles has become its own industry. Professional profile reviewers, consultants, negotiators, photographers, programmers, organizers, matchmakers – the list goes on, and if you’re good enough, any of these fields can become a full-time career. However, those entering the marriage market are expected to do most of the work of constructing their profiles and selecting potential partners themselves. If one’s family members or a third party do too much of the work for them – or at least, if they’re too obvious about having hired someone – it damages that person’s reputation (and, by extension, their family’s as well). Arranging their marriage is expected to be their project.

If they come across someone whose profile is compatible with theirs, they’ll contact that person and invite them to discuss a potential marriage. This is the getting-to-know-you phase, where they work through a large number of potential partners until they’ve narrowed it down to a small handful (usually three or four), in a process that can take weeks or months. Once they’ve narrowed it down to their final handful, the person looking to marry sends each candidate a formal invitation for a face-to-face interview (physical invitations, not digital, mailed to the interviewees’ home addresses). Social, political, and economic concerns have generally been hammered out by the time things reach this stage; these interviews are mainly about personal compatibility, a more in-depth discussion than what exchanges they might have had during the previous stage. In addition, it’s not uncommon for the two participating in the interview to try out physical intimacy to see if they’re compatible in that regard.

After these interviews, all that’s left is to make the final choice and then propose, often done after a long talk with one’s parents and heads of family. How much of a say the person making the marriage has in the decision depends a lot on what their family is like, and on the kind of relationship they have. (For example, Orisai chose Vene herself, while Asaau’s family chose Reica for him in advance and then put him through a charade of marriage brokerage to keep up appearances.)

Among the upper and ruling classes specifically, once both families have agreed to the engagement behind the scenes, a procession takes place that serves to publicly, formally announce their engagement to society at large. Assuming a heterosexual marriage, the woman, accompanied by an entourage of close and extended family members, proceeds to the house of the man’s family. The family members accompanying her will number least fourteen, with that number increasing in multiples of seven for larger processions; the more family members accompany her, the greater a sign it’s considered that her family supports her choice in marriage and that they want the man to become part of their family. Some members of the procession carry metal or glass bells/chimes, which are struck rhythmically as the procession moves forward; harmonic metallic or glass-on-glass sounds are believed to attract good influences and dispel misfortune.

After the procession arrives at the man’s family home, but before announcing their arrival, some members of the procession unfurl lengths of black silk, linen, or other high-value fabric suspended on poles to create a temporary passageway that serves multiple purposes. These include invoking Tauhrelian cultural connotations surrounding the color black, in order to invite these concepts to grace the impending marriage; creating a ‘path’ for the man from his current home to his ostensible future home with his soon-to-be wife; making the engagement itself highly visible, a statement event. The fabric is traditionally then gifted to the man’s family to be used in making his wedding clothes (with all the potential for unspoken communication through amount and quality of fabric that that implies).

Many families try to lay the foundations for marriages they want in advance by introducing two individuals at a younger age, or even having them grow up together. Some nobles form the relationships that later become their marriages on their own, before debuting on the market. In situations like these, people will go through the motions of brokering a marriage, but it’s little more than a formality (though plenty of relationships have been ruined when one person found someone else on the marriage market).

The marriage market really only exists among the ruling and noble families, as well as some wealthy non-noble families who choose to get involved. Most people just fall in love, or marry for whatever other reason without the intercession of a marriage market.

[belafujoshisdead]

The Tauhrelian ruling class claims to idealize cool-headedness and grace under pressure; what they promote, in practice, is the ability to lie remorselessly and no matter how intensely you’re questioned. They claim to idealize rationality; what that translates to in practice is cold-blooded calculation of who should be murdered to advance your family's interests and who should be spared. You’d never catch a member of the ruling class praising out loud the specific quality of being able to lie, or to be ruthless, but the lessons and social conditioning that most children of the nobility receive growing up instill these traits. (Any ruling-class parent would rather have a child who’s good at lying than one who isn’t.) It’s How Things Are Done, and any child (especially an heir) who doesn’t do things The Way They’re Done is at a disadvantage in Tauhrelian ruling-class society. And if one family member is at a disadvantage, then they’re putting their whole family at a disadvantage by extension and risk damaging the whole family’s reputation. Every member of the ruling class is a representative of their family first and an individual second.

[belafujoshisdead]

The further one goes up the ranks of Tauhrelian society, the fewer paired humans one finds in proportion to population. The higher up one lives on a pillar, the more effort it is to make the procession to a pale spire, especially when considering that noble and ruling families would feel the need to turn that procession into a show of status by making it bigger, showier, more elaborate. The political theater among the noble and ruling classes is also so treacherous that its members are loathe to depart it for even a few days. Pairing is still considered by many to be a form of power, and so the ruling classes compensate for that both with the inherent wealth and power of their position in society, and also by disseminating the idea that spirit-human pairings aren’t as valuable or important as they were once believed to be; that blood sacrifice, particularly executions, are more important for maintaining the symbiosis between the physical and spirit worlds.

Which of course isn’t the case - spirit-human pairs are true bond that holds the worlds together, while blood sacrifice is an augmentation at best and should never have become the main method. And people - as in the general population, the ones most harmed by this - are aware of that, but have been conditioned by their society to believe, on varying levels, that nothing can and/or should be done about it. Some don’t realize there’s anything wrong with the way they live; others think, for whatever reason, that this is simply how the world has to be; others just know that the ruling class can unleash bioengineered plagues on the public if they so choose.

(Which is why when Virenina II 'can level a city with her partner’s power, easily' Tauhrelil happens, many among the general population start seeing her as a manifestation of godly vengeance against that exact pattern of devaluing and discouraging spirit pairings, against all the reasons that devaluation was done, and against the violence resulting from or committed in pursuit of it.)

[belafujoshisdead]

of the seven ruling families and seven associated art forms, the nuremid family has claimed curatorship of the written word. which of course means that they also have the biggest library out of all other pillars, and i Really like the idea of that library being one giant column/shaft that goes straight down the center of the entire pillar, and for god knows how long under the earth after that. a collection of written information that dwarfs any other in the world. a library with its own gradation of climate and atmospheric pressure. the pit of infinite letters

[belafujoshisdead]

Nina is a world-famous celebrity, and body modification technology in her setting is ridiculously advanced (you could go around with, for example, a cracked-open geode for a head if you really wanted to). This means that Nina can get away with having her double rows of fangs and luminous white pupil, because everybody assumes it’s a body mod and doesn’t give it another thought, but Nina’s debut into fame kicks off a trend of people getting their teeth modded into fangs to emulate her, and Nina – whose teeth are like that because of Ai Naa – has to deal with people around her mimicking this physical proof of Ai Naa’s influence on her as a fashion statement. Where fashion trends are a thing that come and go – especially in high society, where Nina spends most of her time – which means that Nina will see most of those mods undone within a year, while she has to live with it for the rest of her life. It’s possible that some especially clueless rich idiots even try to emulate Nina’s missing left eye (whether by actually removing it or just modding its appearance in a way that makes it obvious what they’re going for), and then either go around acting as if it’s not a super gross, tactless move (bad), or actively show it off to Nina and expect her to act flattered (worse).

That the ruling class is so removed from the possibility of genuine injury to their person, and has such a profound lack of empathy for those who still face that risk that they inflict those kinds of injuries on themselves for mere aesthetics’ sake - I mean of course a bunch of rich people would do this come on

[belafujoshisdead]

Traditional warfare doesn’t exist in current Tauhrelian society; law enforcement and executioners are the closest there is in the pillar cities to anything resembling a military. Most ‘battles’ are fought with words and information (debate, media campaigns, council meetings, lies and manipulation, blackmail, etc.), and any killings either are carried out covertly and in ways that technically doesn’t spill any blood (poisonings, germ warfare, ‘accidents,’ etc), or happen when two executioners duel one another to settle the issue (think trial by combat).

Executioners are supposedly public servants, which means that supposedly anyone can demand that their grievance be settled through a duel. However, in reality, most people belonging to the general population wouldn’t even dare petition an executioner in the first place. Speaking generally, Tauhrelian society inculcates its members with the belief that it’s a grievous breach of decorum for someone of low standing to demand that a member of the nobility (who make up the overwhelming majority of executioners) lay down their blood or life for them. Tauhrelian law may say they have that right, but everyone living under that law knows the truth, which is that anyone who did such a thing would be punished for it one way or another, as would their family – possibly for generations. Possibly forever.

The general population’s best chance at successfully getting an executioner to champion them is by rallying a large group of supporters to amplify their voice and strengthen their cause. This gets them taken seriously by the nobility, who are well aware of the difference in numbers between classes. The less socially powerful someone is, the more supporters they need for their cause in order to secure a duel. Conversely, most members of the nobility only need to convince each other in order to secure a duel, and so they don’t need anywhere near as many supporters.

Because of this disparity, different classes tend to have very different motivations for trying to secure a duel. The general population is more likely to pursue a duel while trying to defend their rights or gain new ones, seek restitution for wrongful treatment at the hands of the upper classes, preserve ancestral property. The greater difficulty they face in getting themselves heard, as well as the inherently greater risk of death or injury that comes with belonging to an oppressed population, means that they take the idea of sending another human to fight, bleed, and potentially die for their cause much more seriously than the nobility do. Nobles, for their part, are much quicker to call for a duel, and typically do so for smaller, more personal reasons, such as disputes over inheritance or political conflicts. Duels don’t carry the same weight for the ruling class, partly because of the natural sense of entitlement that comes with being born into the ruling class, and partly because the nobility encounters death and bloodshed mainly in the form of safely ritualized popular spectacle, which leaves them unable to fully appreciate the life-and-death gravity of it all.

Whether or not one’s petitioning an executioner succeeds is heavily influenced by an executioner’s character. For example, Nina is much more likely to fight for the general population’s causes, because she’s much more likely to perceive those causes as righteous. Asaau’s infatuation with Orisai and Orufei’s blood relation to the Ilisaf family mean that both are inclined to support Ilisaf causes. Vela is obsessed with upholding the reputation and power of the Seket family, his family by marriage; Irinai is naturally drawn to the side that he thinks will maintain the status quo, equating it with peace and stability; Yaravi is concerned with maintaining popularity and influence. Lira is almost never asked to duel for anyone, and honestly prefers it that way.

Executioners have the right to refuse a duel, though of course they also have to consider the potential risks that refusing could do to their career, reputation, and/or family name. If no executioner will back a petitioner’s cause, then the duel never happens. If the petitioner can get an executioner to agree to fight for them, but the opposing side can’t convince an executioner of their own, then the duel is forfeit and the first party automatically wins. The opposing side can also refuse to accept the demand for a duel in the first place, though they have to be able to provide convincing grounds for refusal and, like an executioner refusing a duel, can potentially face negative consequences for doing so. Then again, a petitioner whose demand is refused may face consequences as well. Whether a duel is accepted or refused and whether both sides can get an executioner to champion them, and the consequences thereof, depends on a complex interplay of social class, politics, personal and familial honor, the issue at stake, and the personalities and moral codes of everyone involved.

Not every duel is to the death, since that would be a waste of the time and resources that it takes to train and elect new executioners. Some duels are only to first blood, while others are to knockout, to a certain level of injury, to exhaustion, or to the point of one executioner’s surrender. It all depends the nature of the conflict leading up to the duel, the terms of combat (which have to be agreed upon by all parties), and on what’s at stake in the duel itself.

Duels aren’t used to settle every legal grievance; they’re used when someone wants to force an issue into the public eye and lend it a more dramatic, emotionally charged nature. It also brings a ritualistic aspect to the matter, since duels evoke executions. When someone calls for a duel, it’s always done in order to make a statement to the rest of society, whether it’s the general population demanding justice or the nobility demonstrating how easily they can play with life and death.

Duels can happen between two parties who live in the same pillar region, or two parties from different regions (citizenship is determined by one’s home pillar region; technically, nobody is a citizen of the Opaline City). Duels called between parties from the same region are more common, but are rarely fought to the death. Duels called between parties from two different regions are much rarer, are one of the closest things this setting sees to a declaration of war, and are far more likely to be fought to the death.

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The Opaline City, as the unofficial eighth pillar region and “capital” of the other seven regions, also has its own style of fashion unique from the other seven regions. Opaline City high fashion makes frequent use of airy layers made from lightweight silk and linen, or from hard light textiles. Organic technology is also used for extra luminescence, moving jewelry or clothing, clothes and accessories that change in response to the wearer’s environment (ex. temperature, light levels, or humidity), and other extra effects.

Nudity is almost totally desexualized in Opaline City fashion, at least in part due to the region’s hot and humid rainforest climate. In the Opaline City, upper-body nudity says more about social rank than it does anything sexual. Daily full or partial toplessness, like Orisai or Asaau’s outfits, is a status symbol. Orisai can freely wear clothing exposing her breasts because she doesn’t have to do the kind of labor where your breasts might need to be physically supported, or kept out of the way. Asaau can freely go shirtless most days because, like most other members of the noble or ruling class, he doesn’t work in any conditions or with any substances hazardous enough to require covering his body. The association of exposed skin with status has grown so strong that it’s also taken on connotations of formality; show up to a formal event at the Opaline City with too much skin exposed, and you may be considered overdressed.

Members of the Tauhrelian ruling class are all but guaranteed to be wearing their family’s colors, at least when in public. Tauhrelian high society gatherings are often a riot of color, as many such gatherings take place in the Opaline City and involve many families from multiple regions. While it’s not an ironclad rule, generally speaking, noble families from a particular pillar region will have family colors that don’t stray too far on the color wheel from those of their ruling family. Apart from a few outliers, you could sort most noble families from one region into a spectrum by their family colors if you wanted to.

Commonly, one of a ruling family’s two colors will be at least slightly iridescent. This is another status symbol, reserved for ruling families exclusively and meant to indicate royal status (as opposed to mere nobility).

Ruling family colors:

Tauhrelil - black and cyan, with red and silver as unofficial secondary colors. Yellow is an unofficial tertiary color (the specific shade of yellow used in-setting to indicate biohazards). The Tauhrelil family bothers with iridescence the least out of the seven families, but when using it, will apply it to black in their family colors. The Tauhrelil art form is body mods and organica. Black is the best color for hiding bloodstains.

Ilisaf - deep magenta (iridescent) and gold. Yellow and orange (the two colors are considered the same in the Tauhrelian rainbow) can serve as gold-equivalent colors in fabric. Darker shades of purples and pinks are often used as secondary colors. The Ilisaf family intentionally chose colors reminiscent of the rising and setting sun, to echo the family’s hard light artistry.

Seket - the Seket family is an exception to this trend; the family’s art form is fashion, originating from their history as weavers and makers of dyes. As a result, the Seket family is more likely than any other to incorporate non-family colors into their outfits. However, the official family colors are violet (iridescent) and night-blue, frequently accented with gold and black.

Tekkar - light green and peacock turquoise (iridescent). The Tekkar family, as well as the seven Tekkaari subruling families, favor a darker and subtler style of dress than the Tekkaari region’s forty-nine Flowering Houses. They tend to work their family colors into outfits on a spectrum of brown, black, and dark blue, teal, and green, underscoring their home region’s art form of botany.

Sadehr - rose-gray and muted dark blue (iridescent). Unofficial secondary colors of charcoal and silver. Though not as frequently as the Seket family, Sadehr family members may wear non-family colors - for example, if dressing to attend a gallery opening, or the unveiling of a commissioned artwork from one of the artists they patronize. Whether a Sadehr prioritizes wearing their family colors or not clashing with the art shows their opinion of the artist’s work.

Omatican - bright true blue and dark green-blue (iridescent). Omaticaani fashion involves many layers, veils, and dark sea/water colors. The veils and dark colors - covering one’s eyes and “dimming” one’s visual surroundings - are part of how the Omatican family expresses the importance of their region’s art form of sound and music to others.

Nuremid - gray and burgundy (iridescent). Burgundy is said to represent the unending bloodline of human history (tying into the Nuremiidi art form of the written word, including the region’s Seven Immortal Authors and forty-nine Inkblood Scribes), gray the ashes of ages past.

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The exaggerated height common in Tauhrelian nobles means that many members of the upper and ruling classes don’t fully finish growing until around age 25 or so. It's also common for them to experience very intense growing pains - especially compared to the general population - since their height isn’t strictly 100% natural (height among the ruling classes is an intentionally selected trait, helped along with a hefty dose of Tauhrelian fantasy science). There’s a common “step on a crack, break your mother's back” type belief that the worse your growing pains are, the taller you’ll be when you’ve finished growing. Tauhrelian noble child’s caregiver putting them in a warm bath and then rubbing them down with the Tauhrelian equivalent of tiger balm before telling them to get some rest and let’s measure you in the morning to see if you got any taller

[belafujoshisdead]

Theater is the most popular form of spectator entertainment in the pillar cities, especially the Opaline City. With the in-world mastery of technologies such as hard light and organic nanotechnology, possibilities for set design, costumes, and special effects are almost limitless; as a result, modern theater in the pillar cities is every bit as spectacular as film productions in our world, and in some ways more. Getting to see the actors in person and physically be in their presence; scenes playing out and effects going off directly before the audience’s eyes; lines delivered live rather than secondhand through recording – all of it gives the experience of theater an intimate, visceral nature that film (at least in most Tauhrelian audiences’ minds) can never quite reach.

Theater has always been one of the threads stringing together Tauhrelian human history – the theater of early religious ceremonies, of reenactments of myths, of family histories, of stories for the sake of stories – a fire around which people could draw together and build community. As smaller, older societies began merging into larger, newer ones – as the shape of humanity began to change – theater changed alongside it. Politics were one of the first things to become dramatized; execution and theater were always, always linked. (If a sacrifice happens offstage, with no one to witness it, is it still a sacrifice? Execution was the first form of theater.)

As time went on and most of humanity gathered at the pillar cities, theater remained a mainstay of society. As the system of bloodline-based hierarchy became further entrenched and certain bloodlines took on more and more political power, their lives became increasingly politicized. The more their personal lives became intertwined with their political ones, and the more politics became intertwined with noble and ruling interfamilial drama, and the more intense this drama became as it was further politicized and developed ever-higher stakes – eventually, theater and politics in pillar cities became inextricably linked. In the present, politics and criminal justice are cornerstones of the entertainment industry, which is why executioners and people like Orisai are treated as celebrities and entertainment figures as much as (and often more than) political actors. Politics and law have become so synonymous with entertainment that – as an example – people convicted of murder can actually receive lighter sentences if they commit it in a dramatically satisfying enough way. While it may not be written into law, it’s such a strong cultural expectation that judges can damage or even lose their careers over handing down too harsh a sentence on a ‘good’ murder.

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Height is a potent status symbol in Tauhrelian society. Though originally regarded as nothing more than an attractive physical trait, eventually the upper classes – simultaneously bound up in and creators of societal conventions of beauty – developed the resources to intentionally breed for height, leading to an inextricable link between height and social status.

As a result, height differences are a much bigger deal in the pillar cities; the nature of classism in pillar society means that there’s a real and material basis for why Mu is 5′2 while Nina is 7′5, her mother is 7′2, and Asaau is 7′0. People living in the pillar cities tend to automatically associate height with sociopolitical power…and Nina is really, really tall. Even by ruling class standards, she’s considered statuesque. Nina being a full five inches taller than Asaau; three inches taller than her own mother; seven inches taller than the ‘average’ highbred woman’s height of 6′10; nine inches taller than her father – is its own source of power, and one that Nina never hesitates to make full use of.

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Nina’s full name from birth through the first 17-18 years of her life was Orialu VII Ilisaf. When she changed it to Virenina II Tauhrelil, she did so legally as well as socially, causing the numeral in her name to change from VII to II (since she went from the seventh person in the Ilisaf family named Orialu to the second Tauhrelil named Virenina*). This differs from name changes caused by marriage, where the person changing their name keeps their original numeral, and technically their original family name (to an extent) – for example, Vene’s name goes from Vene V Tauhrelil to Vene Ilisaf V Tauhrelil.

*In recent/semi-recent history, not for all time. Names among ruling and noble families traditionally cycle through in sevens, so that the count resets after each VII name. Additionally, because of the in-world cultural weight of the number seven, giving a VII name to one’s child is basically declaring that that child is destined for greatness. In fact, it’s common for the run of a name within a family to stall at VI for a while due to the unspoken pressure. Noble and ruling family heirs tend to receive a VII numeral more often than anyone else.

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Although most are in desperate need of it, the Tauhrelian ruling class actively discourages its members from seeking therapy. To ruling and noble families, the idea of one of their own divulging their secrets and “weaknesses” to someone outside the family is unthinkable. The ruling/noble reaction to the idea of therapy is largely along the lines of “You want to reveal this family’s inner workings to an outsider?! Why don’t you just admit you want your entire bloodline to fall into disgrace for eternity while you’re at it.”

After all, what if a rival family bribes or pressures a therapist into telling them everything? What if a therapist sells confidential information to the media? What if, what if, what if – in the end, it all comes down to the underlying fear that any issue requiring therapy could potentially damage the family name. This, in turn, could damage said family’s social standing, political power, marriage prospects, etc. – which is, of course, unacceptable. (Note that the lower one goes on a pillar, the less prevalent this attitude becomes and the more widely-accepted practices like therapy and mental health help are.)

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It might seem counterintuitive for people from a planet with a largely wet and rainforest-like climate to have a widespread tradition of burning their dead, considering the difficulties that such an environment would present in starting just about any kind of fire (let alone a big and hot enough one to cremate a body); however, for those who practice cremation (which is much of Tauhrelian society), the effort is the point. The construction of a funeral pyre is considered a labor of love and a sign of respect for the deceased family member. Cremating the body was historically seen as a means of freeing the deceased’s soul from the earth-and-water bonds of their physical body, allowing the soul (supposedly the body’s air-and-fire counterpart imbuing it with consciousness, thought, and feeling) to depart the physical world and join the stream aetherial in the spirit world.

Even if a family decides to break with tradition and not burn the deceased’s body, they will still destroy it in some way. Destruction of the body is seen as a necessary step in death; if the soul remains trapped inside the body, how will it reach the afterlife? This belief is so strongly ingrained in Tauhrelian society that leaving a dead body intact is seen as a form of corpse desecration (which means that practices such as coffin burials and graveyards are out of the question). There’s also a practical aspect to destroying bodies – in a society where most people live more in densely-packed clusters rather than spreading out over the whole planet and most everyone shares a finite amount of existing living space, it’s a lot easier to keep a bit of ash/vial of blood/small bone/lock of hair/etc. than an entire corpse. The space issue crops up both low and high in the cities. On the lower levels, most people have little extra space to dedicate to the dead; among the ruling class, family trees are so extensive and go so far back that they feel the need to use grave space efficiently – they’d rather have smaller graves for each family member than have to dispose of any ancestors’ remains.

If a family chooses to keep some of the deceased’s ashes, they keep only a small portion; the rest are scattered into the wind, river, or sea. That the ashes be borne away as they’re scattered is vital; it’s the final step in freeing the soul from its physical anchor.

Generally, graves in the pillar cities resemble small shrines more than headstones (and a proper highbred family gravehall resembles a small city of shrines). The centerpiece is an artistic rendition of the deceased, under which is written their name (and title/s, if any) and their birth and death dates. These depictions can be inkings, paintings, small carvings or statuettes, holograms, hard light constructs – whatever lies within the family’s realm of artistic and/or financial possibility. However, using a photograph for the grave is taboo; it’s considered too akin to having an intact body, since it’s an exact physical depiction of the deceased. The remains of the deceased are placed directly in front of and just below the depiction, and are always protected in some way – placed in a wooden box, encased in glass, suspended in biostasis – whatever is within a family’s means (and sense of aesthetics). Descendants make small offerings to the grave every day for seven days, and then every seven days after that, in the form of incense, dried herbs or flowers, or other items that give off fragrance when burned. It’s meant to echo the funeral pyre, and to be an offering that takes the form of air and fire.

Due to living space constraints, the general population is unable to keep the remains of their entire families. How many generations they can keep depends on a combination of how high up they live in the city and how large a family they have (which determines how much space they have); however, no family will ever keep fewer than seven generations. When a family needs to let go of an older generation’s remains, it’s effectively a second funeral. The deceased’s name, birth and death dates, and a short biography are entered into a permanent written record kept by the family; the remains are mourned again, and then burned a final time, after which the ashes are scattered into the wind, river, or sea. Families with very little space may have their ancestors’ graves set on a shelf or into a wall, while those with more space might give over a partial or whole room. The general population is more likely to keep ash or bones for remains, since they’re easier and safer to keep over a period of years.

Noble and ruling families have multiple chambers, or even a wing of the family compound, given over to grave space. They keep a grave for every family member for as far back as their bloodline can be traced; the oldest bloodlines (for example, the Seket family) go back thousands of years. In a society that values ancestry and bloodlines as highly as theirs, the ability to keep graves for an entire bloodline is an enormous status symbol and demonstration of privilege. Noble families are also more likely to keep blood samples as remains, since they can afford the technology to preserve it. You can tell how far back you are in the graves of a ruling family not only by the dates, but also by what kinds of remains are kept at the graves.

Among the upper classes, many families’ gravehalls are so extensive that the family has servants whose sole duty it is to maintain the graves and make the burned offerings in their stead. Most noble families only make the offerings themselves once a year in what’s basically a holiday.