| Without warning, the silvery light that appeared to bring new people from other worlds and old items from home appears once more, and this time it lingers, forming portals as tall as an average human near each of the three Ingress shrines. The location does not appear to be a coincidence; this time, the portals are translucent, revealing the destination on the other side. Instead of taking Avagi's residents to the future, it will take them to another world.
If they step through the portal, travelers will find something far different from where they've been living this last month: Kaittos, a peaceful world containing one large land mass and a scattering of lived-on islands across a clear blue ocean. On the mainland, a large city-state occupies the central region and southern coast and resembles what some travelers from some versions of Earth might know of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.
Bustling and lively, the city is clean and well provided-for due to the temperate climate and the bountiful natural resources found on its northern side; orchards, farms and forests extend into the distance, butting up against a small mountain range. The technology level is low compared to Avagi, with carriages and candles in place rather than cars and electric lights, but the craftsmen of the world have managed some very impressive mechanical feats.
Kaittans, the local residents of the world appear somewhat humanoid, but the bipedal race has hooves rather than feet, silvery skin and three eyes with vertical pupils. Although there is no sign of any other sentient species in the world, the locals are nonetheless excited to meet their guests, rather than suspicious or afraid; for some reason, they are not surprised that aliens exist, merely that they are here.
In the weeks to come, the stabilized portals will provide a respite from the more confined lifestyle aboard Avagi. Travelers are warmly welcomed and encouraged to explore the land. Some things they'll find include...
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With all their material needs taken care of, the civilization on Kaittos has come to highly value cultivation of the mind. The city itself is full of what can only be generalized as culture. Theaters, art galleries and sizable libraries can be found on every tier, but what they offer is not contained by their walls. Street musicians appear on every other corner, artists are easily found sketching at beautiful viewpoints or interested passersby, and people are as likely to find themselves pulled in to participate in a scene or improvisational performance as they are to witness one. Public debate and rhetoric are also valued, with credit given for style and clarity as much as substance. At the center of the city, a large conservatory teaches lessons in many fields to anyone who cares to study.
This love of culture is so encompassing that visitors who wish to acquire items or resources will find that culture is also the main form of currency. To get something, they will have to give something. Those with skills that fall into traditional arts and culture could offer a piece of art, a music lesson or participation in a debate with other philosophical scholars, perhaps. But visitors will also find that the locals have a deep hunger for information and wish to learn about other worlds; if they can offer nothing else, sitting down with a scholar to record a tale of folklore or an adventure from their own. Lessons in whatever skills they possess are likely to be eagerly sought after, although the aptitude to learn them may not be there.
For those who wish to gain resources or make purchases, a bartering economy does exist to a degree, but it is difficult to break into, as there is little that the locals would truly need from their visitors. The exchange of knowledge is much more prized. Keep in mind, though, that while the Kaittans are not ungenerous, they have an eye for value—the more precious something is, the more travelers will have to offer to earn it, and individuals have their preferences. What might be just the thing desired by one could be pooh-poohed by another.
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While many on Kaittos see food as the fuel that keeps their bodies going so they may better cultivate their minds, others see cooking itself as an art. This is especially prevalent in this section of the city, located deep in the heart of the city, where chefs toil over new recipes and experiment with new ingredients, serving meals free of charge—unless you consider sitting through a lengthy survey afterwards to be a payment, of course.
Although some meals are unpalatable or even dangerous to human bodies, most can be enjoyably consumed. However, around one in five chefs make extensive use of a particular herb that is incredibly delicious—and somewhat addicting. Those who begin to develop a dependency will visit again and again, and the more they consume, the more they may not want to leave at all...
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Spoken of in hushed voices, this section of woods is regarded with great caution. A space of around ten acres is home to many natural springs that form natural pools between copses of trees, many of which hang dropping branches with deep blue leaves over the surface of the water. If asked, the locals will say that this place is where some very old Kaittans—which are an extremely long-lived species—who have decided they've studied everything available in the world and mastered every skill they can, go to "renew" themselves. They prefer to speak of it in vague terms, as specific discussion of this choice is seen as something of a faux pas. If greatly pressed, it is possible to learn the details ahead of time—but difficult.
The truth is that the water of the springs, when mixed with a chemical secreted by the fallen blue leaves, represses memories of those who drink it. Not to the point of complete amnesia; a sip might do away with the recollection of a particular book that was enjoyed, while multiple glasses might hide the memory of a longer period of time. However, there is no control over what is forgotten, or how much is too much. The Kaittans who grow too frustrated with what they view as stagnancy drink to forget so they may have the joy of learning all over again, but the lack of control makes it a risky choice—and some continue to return to drink after they otherwise would have, as they have forgotten what they wanted to forget.
(Of note to those of the psychic persuasion: memories affected by the spring water are not utterly obliterated, but merely deeply sublimated. It is possible to retrieve them, but it would be a challenge, especially if the placement of the memory gaps are not obvious.) |
| While Kaittos’ architecture and culture includes plenty to admire, a few points of interest stand both literally and figuratively above the rest. Three large pyramids tower over the landscape, shining the brilliant metallic blue of a local ore. Over the coming weeks, these structures will be adorned with temporary murals and hangings—apparently, a yearly celebration is approaching.
What kind of celebration? The kind, fortunately (?), that visitors are welcome to join in! November 23 marks the anniversary of what they call the Great Awakening: a visit by a powerful spirit that opened their people's awareness to worlds and cultures outside their own. For the next few weeks, the temples offer welcome to anyone who wishes to participate in their trials. On the day of the Awakening, all who succeed will experience a remnant of the spirit's gift. While descriptions of the process vary, all center around heightened awareness: of each other, and of worlds and places far beyond their shores. Those who decide to make this attempt may choose which temple—and which trial—they would face.
Trial of Life
A test for warriors and scouts, this trial is not recommended to the casual. On entering the temple, participants will find themselves in a maze of obstacles and passages, struggling for survival against dangers both mobile and environmental. To succeed, they must pass inside with no more resources or weapons than can be carried in two hands, and survive for a period of five days. The attackers and hazards within the space are phantasms generated by the temple: solid enough to harm or kill, but prone to re-appearing even once a region should be cleared.
Needless to say, extensive warnings will be given to those expressing interest in the trial. Most who attempt do so in groups, and teamwork among participants is readily encouraged. Those who need to leave early are welcome to do so, but fleeing does count as a failure.
Trial of Communion
The inside of this temple is divided up into a series of open booths. Participants are assigned a station, and will be approached by members of the local population with various disputes that require arbitration. The purpose of the trial is twofold: to assist others with their problems, and to test those making the attempt—in patience, debate, and their skill at resolving conflict through the use of words.
No authority is granted to those taking this test. None of those who come before them are obliged to listen. The participants will be presented with conflicts that have been saved up through the year, and required to work out a solution. This can include anything from property disputes to marriage arguments to literal children's squabbles. Breaks are allowed for food and basic rest, but otherwise, those taking the trial will need to spend five days in continual discourse for the sake of others. Those who give up on any problems brought before them or resort to violence in solving them are considered to have failed the trial.
Trial of Healing
The third temple presents no dangers, whether to one's life or to one's sanity. Instead, it serves as a medical center. Those stepping inside will experience a strange peacefulness and sense of comfort—one the full-time staff confirm has helped many patients to recover. While this temple is open throughout the year, the weeks preceding the Awakening are nonetheless a time of gathering: when healers of all disciplines will come together to assist those in need.
While doctors or healers are welcome to share information with their peers, no special skill or training is required to attempt this trial. Instead, participants are asked to spend a period of ten days doing whatever work is required to assist the sick. While most of the ailments brought to the temple are longer-term in nature, it also functions as a triage center for those harmed in the Temple of Life. |
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thisavrou_log2017-11-09 08:50 pm
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It is. Particularly for us, seeing as we have no currency. Unless I can find an intergalactic currency exchange that accept Chilean pesos.
[ He smiles slightly at the compliment. Making the figures had been more enjoyable than he anticipated. ] Thank you. I thought they could be of scientific or artistic interest.
[ The recipe cards catch his eye. ] Are you a chef?
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[And then there's some hesitation, his cheeks puffing out with a slow exhale of uncertainty as he works out an accurate response. Is he one? He doesn't feel like it, though he suppose as a technicality he just was.]
I enjoy cooking and I suppose I was one on Kauto. I ran a diner. Now I just would like some food that's not just blue cubes so I'm trying to stock up. [He's really been feeling the lack of variety. He's plenty fine with sustenance, but he will absolutely opt for flavor if he can.]
I've been playing music for them as well, mostly my own songs, writing out copies of famous poems. Unfortunately I'm not much of a visual artist, so my payment options are a bit limited.
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I've had worse. But there is something... so aggressively bland about it that it ends up being more offensive than one might think possible.
[ He rubs his chin. ] In the culinary quarter, they will offer payment just for giving them your opinion on the dishes. It's more involved than it sounds, but possibly of interest to you.
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I've been. I managed to pick up some spices while I was there, too.
Haven't found any good wines yet, but I would take anything at this point. As long as it's better than what's in the bar.
[Which he can handle a lot of contemptable drinks, but he has to admit the vinegar there was karma inflicted upon him ten years too late. Offering a pretty woman liquor she resented followed him like a curse until Avagi, he just knows it.]
ftr he's talking about Widowmaker
[ He grimaces at mention of the bar. ]
Even those two weeks when the bar was stocked, it was sub-par. Although I did manage to find at least one acceptable bottle of merlot, and a rather lovely young woman to share it with. [ He smirks. ] If I find any wine, I'll let you know.
What sort of spices?
Who is indeed a very hot lady.
[While Kaz has never been terribly picky about his wine, other than "not poisonous", he does think fondly back on Cecile. He's had a lot of reminders of her, lately. His Parisian.]
I knew a woman who would have appreciated that. Luckily my current partner isn't picky when it comes to his drink. I just... wish he was a little pickier about his food. [And maybe that he'd dress up for him sometimes. You know. Just to do something nice. But his train of thought is getting derailed.]
Have you seen anything worth buying around here? Spirits, that is? [He's sure they have their own special brand of drink.]
she even thought some of his jokes were funny! it was a great day
He's not at all sure what year the man may have left, but the glimpse of the possibility of that sort of culture is enough to make him feel as if a weight has lifted, one that he has been fighting so long it had embedded in his skin. It's a kind of joy, and a small though undeniable amount of envy. ]
Be careful what you wish for. My previous partner could be exceptionally picky. Eventually I had to just not tell him what I was making so he wouldn't start subtly trying to ask if I was using the pink salt or the gray salt.
[ He frowns thoughtfully. ] I haven't found spirits, no. Personally I've been looking for garlic. I understand there's a cow on board, and garlic butter would go a long way to making a great many things more palatable.
[ Something catches his eye. ] That stall has glass bottles, have you checked or shall we try our luck?
no subject
[Some people couldn't help who they fell for. He more than knew that.]
I could use some garlic, too. Yeah. Or the nearest equivalent. Let's have a look around.
[Oils. Real cooking vinegar and not the accidental stuff from the bar. All of these things would be valuable. And a shopping buddy who has some idea of how to cook would do wonders.]
I'll also keep it in mind. About him being picky, that is. While sometimes I wish he could fully appreciate the work I put into cooking something, I think he does in his own way. [He's always seemed to appreciate all of Kaz's hard work.]
take all these stories with a grain of (Himalayan pink) salt. Erik's not above exaggerating.
[ Erik laughs softly and shakes his head. ] There is a happy medium somewhere, I'm sure. Between the man who is pleased by everything, so it feels as if your efforts are ultimately pointless. And the man who is so exacting that every time you manage to please him it feels like a huge victory. With whom traveling is a nightmare, I might add. There was one time when we had to charter a private jet instead of taking his private jet. You would have thought we were taking the bus all the way back from Cairo.
[ Erik tastes some of the oils and begins setting a few aside. ] That one tastes like a truffle oil. A bottle that size could last years. And you know, it would have to be bulb garlic. Something like a scape would work just as well, and may be easier to cultivate.
no subject
Cairo, huh? Been a long time since I've been there. A few years at least.
[He picks up a bottle of oil and sniffs it, before the next. Some are so bizarrely alien that he can't quite think of a likeness. But he picks one he's willing to try, before picking up the recommended truffle oil.]
Grasses are so common that I imagine that they should have something not that dissimilar from garlic. On Kauto I found plenty of near equivalents to cook with. [Funny. Now he thinks back to the day while they were all on the lam, and he stole from a store that he used to do business with. He ended up eating stuff directly off the shelf as he was grabbing supplies. At the time, he'd felt a little guilty. Now it just reminds him that was the last time he had fresh vegetables before this.]
no subject
Erik hates quantum theory. ]
Good thought on the grasses. If we're lucky we could find lemongrass as well. Do you know anything about horticulture? There are some things that would be helpful to have on-hand in the greenery, but I have no idea how feasible any of it is.
no subject
I was there as part of a protection force for two Shura Council members, since it was still being established and there was quite a bit of resistance. So there wasn't a lot of sights for me, either. But it's another case of sometimes missing the food in the region. Or the drink.
Or the sun.
[Because the artificial lighting on Avagi doesn't do it for him. The sun had been nice in the Caribbean too.]
[As he talks he pulls off his glove to use his bionic hand to pick up a spined fruit. The semi-transparent fingers still feeling the prickle, but not getting agitated as his normal hand might.]
no subject
[ He starts haggling for the oils. He can always make more figures, but there's a limit to how many resources he wants to fritter away over creature comforts. Once the metal leaves the station, it's not coming back. He manages to drive a decent bargain and collects what they chose, handing the other man the ones he had chosen. ]
Yes, escaping the fluorescence for a time is beneficial for all of us, I'm sure. I'm Magneto, by the way. I don't believe we've met.
[ He notes the bionic hand, but does not gape at it. ]
no subject
Kazuhira Miller.
[Kazuhira itself is spelled with Japanese kanji that form the word "Peace". A purposeful choice on the part of his mother. Desperate war survivor that she was, a victim of the Tokyo bombings, it's the hope she had in him.]
And I don't believe we have. [He holds out the prosthetic hand to shake. Which has the give of a normal hand- but does feel a little like clasping air.]
Maybe.
I'm not sure how fond I'd be of being the station's cook. But I might be tempted to put the food to the most efficient use possible. Looks like you know a thing or two.
no subject
Oh, I have no interest in cafeteria cooking. When I do, it's for a select audience. [ He frowns in thought. ] We don't know how long the portals will stay open. It could be permanently, they could close today. We should have coordinated some kind of plan to resupply.
no subject
[And the workaholic in the man starts to show. The man that writes his own songs and cooks and studied military history and teaches survival techniques and guerilla warfare. He's eager for another task. He needs another task. Because if he stops, he slows, his mind begins to wander back to the aches in his body and his heart.]
[Like cracks in his emotions, constantly needing patching with labor.]
What have you been doing aboard the station?
[He's asking, but then he realizes he needs to pay for what... a dozen bottles of oils and vinegars? He's been offhandedly picking things out and not offered up his payment yet. So he puts down his duffle bag so he can position his guitar from around his back and into his arms to play it.]
no subject
It is also important to remember that with all the food brought on board, we may bring in or encourage pests of various kinds. Although I believe Widowmaker said she was handling extermination.
[ The energy Kaz displays when thinking of projects is one Erik recognizes. The tireless toil to an unreachable goal, fueled by whatever terrible things he's trying to avoid feeling, or thinking about, or remembering. ]
I have... [ He pauses and points toward the guitar with an inquisitive look, a wordless do you mind if I answer while you play? before continuing. ]
I built a workshop. I don't plan to run it, just routine maintenance and maybe teaching some classes for interested parties. I'm starting to work on a nightclub, and after that I have some personal projects for the rest of my deck. I like building things.
no subject
[Good name, though. A hell of a lot better than 'Quiet'. (He might be biased, though.)] That's true. We had some contamination problems when we brought in African stock back home. We eventually developed a good system in R&D for decontaminating the food and drugs, but it wasn't easy.
[He doesn't seem bothered by the conversation while he plays. He does it almost effortlessly. A relearned practice, but not one that requires all of his concentration. Especially in the presence of an audience so easily impressed.]
Teaching? You're an instructor, too.
I wouldn't mind getting back into the practice, but I'm constantly surprised by the talent the Ingress [or the remnants of it] seems to choose. If ranked on ability, everyone here is S and beyond. Even the children are exceptionally talented. It's as if it's consciously choosing resourceful people... [And holding them in a class all to themselves, if recent evidence holds.]
no subject
[ Erik makes a note on his A.C.E. to mention it to Nihlus or Shepherd, though it's possible they already have coordinated a team to address it. ]
"Instructor" is generous. Mostly I'm interested in keeping the youth occupied. A gang of unsupervised, bored young people is never a good thing. If that means I have to teach them how to fix toasters, then that's what I'll do.
[ Erik watches Kaz play, not so distracted that he doesn't hear what he's saying ]
It worries me that we don't know more about our... [ People tend to get upset when he says "captors" ] hosts. There has to be some reason for all this largess, and in bringing us here in the first place.
Have you considered teaching music? I'm sure there are some who would appreciate it.
no subject
[He could go on and on about Cecile. But Cecile is out of his life by a decade, fond as his thoughts are of her. And he would never want her to know what he became.]
Well, if you ever need to confer on information? I could help. And I actually was teaching history. Yeah, I know it changes between worlds, but learning the history of places we encounter is-
Well... I had a pretty good idea of what the intermediaries were and what they'd do pretty quick.
[He's not learned the history of this place. Not yet. There's been no need.]
no subject
[ Erik laughs softly. ]
Oh, I'm not personally involved with the school on the station, so I'm not entirely sure what is necessary.
[ It's a deflection he will cling to for all that he's worth, despite the fact that he most definitely is involved with it. But that goes into messy attempts to adjust to change and create some idea of a boundary between him and Charles which has been difficult to establish and maintain. ]
Charles Xavier and Clara Oswald are the ones working on organizing everything. I don't believe they have a dedicated history teacher as of yet, but I could be wrong about that. Either way, I'm sure they could use the help.