thisavrou_log | November World Travel

Entry tags:

November World Travel

Who: Anyone and everyone
When: Nov. 9 and onward
Where: Kaittos
What: A new path opens up

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...

Art, Culture and Trading

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.

The Culinary Quarter

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...

The Forest of Renewal

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.)

The Temples

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.

[While the Trials themselves are intended to be logged here, an update will offer more information on the Awakening experienced by the successful. This will come out on November 23rd! For questions, please head to the recent mod update.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Yep, more awkward. He scratches the back of his head and ruffles his hand through his hair, eyes briefly averted. What d'you say after it becomes apparent you're from the past and if you evened out timelines you'd be some old geezer around a cute chick? Sigh.]

Yeah? I'm not sure I'd know more than a handful of songs - but I've been improvising already, so. It's not like they're gonna call me out on it, eh? I like this plan.

[ Don't worry, Peter. She's distracted by thinking about how close they are to the age her dad was when he died. ]

We could practice. Most of what I know are pretty simple anyway, so long as you had the chords close enough that would work. [ She grins, cautiously but still. ] I can make sure it's all old shit so you'll know it.

Thanks, you're so kind. [He snickers, all too aware of how much music he's missing out on. What's Rush's next album? What's gonna top the charts in 1984?]

You play any instruments? Or are you gonna stay vocal breadwinner for us.

What can I say, I'm a giver. [ She smirks. ] Plus like, the new stuff is way harder and I don't know if you could handle it with all the arthritis.

[ She eats more of the fruit. She needs to find more, Adam would probably like it. ]

No, I don't. Wanted to, but lessons and instruments cost money. [ She shrugs. ] I'm not an amazing singer but if we pick the songs right I won't embarrass us.

[Peter laughs again, clearly one for well timed jabs.

He rolls his eyes and gives a little nod.] I'm self taught, so if you pick the right songs I'll hopefully not embarrass us either. I can teach you guitar sometime, if you don't mind a slightly unorthodox method of learning. And by that? I mean "Peter teaches you with no rhyme or reason how to twang a note because he's no formal teacher" kinda learning.

Edited 2017-11-20 22:00 (UTC)

Most of my learning has been unorthodox.

[ She picks up a stick and snaps it into pieces, flinging the bits on the street in front of her. ]

It's not like the L.A. public school system was all that great, you know?

[ Or that anybody ever gave a shit how she did in school. Or if she even showed up. Until she got the gig and then people actually needed her to do stuff and do it right so they showed her how. ]

I learn best by doing, anyway. It'll be fine. Oh, do you read tabs? Because I can write tabs.

Shit answer: yes, no and maybe so? [He's got a general smattering of knowledge that will cover his bases but not without an error every so often. He laughs though, sitting back a bit and tapping his fingertips against the base of his guitar.]

I'll teach you what I know, you teach me what you know - at some point we'll have an even harmony going on. Deal?

[ The idea that she could have something useful to teach somebody in this weird place where everybody knows or can do so many amazing things is pretty great. Kelly Ann ducks her head and smiles, tucking a lock of hair back behind her ear. ]

Ok. It's a deal.

[ She's not really confident in her ability to teach anything to anybody but she offers her hand to shake on it. ]

Sweet, good - it's official then. There's a bunch of other instruments too but aside from a short stint on the drums, I stuck to guitar. My mom threatened to wring my neck as a kid for being too loud - typical snipping of an aspiring drummer's dream right in the bud, you know how it is.

[Not that he's all that disappointed.] Anyway, wanna take a break and explore a bit? My sis got some good sweet stuff from somewhere around here and I need to track down the source.

I dunno. I've known a lot of drummers. You're not a drummer. Though I bet you could do some sick speed metal, if you didn't get too worked up about telling them to keep it down of course.

[ She hops to her feet and offers a hand to help him up. Because his knees aren't so good anymore. ]

Sweet stuff sounds amazing. Maybe we can practice some of the Unplugged set to earn it.

[ She had heard some of Nihlus' lecture, after all. ]

[He takes her hand after giving her a look, because the old jokes? Oh, don't think he's not catching them. He gets up to his feet, threading the strap of the guitar over his shoulder and slinging it to rest against his back. He looks behind him to make sure he doesn't leave anything, dragging a backpack by the handle and nodding his head to suggest she lead off.]

It's Kelly Ann, right? Do I say the Ann every time or like, is Kelly cool enough on its own?

[ Oh. She knows. But what's he gonna do about it?

She leads, aimlessly because this is still pretty overwhelming, but keeping an eye out for more fruit. It's the least she can do for Adam. ]

It's Kelly Ann. Or, um. I mean Pistachio is my nickname.

[ There's a stall that has something that looks like fruit on the road leading toward the water. She turns in that direction. ]

Aren't nicknames supposed to have less syllables?

[He tilts his head in thought before repeating:] Pistachio. Cute, though. Where'd you pick it up? Gotta be a story behind it, right?

"Quicksilver" has three. "Peter" has two.

[ She glances away and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear to cover the faint blush, and then looks at him sidelong. ]

It's um. Kind of a long story. You sure you want to hear it?

Okay, touche - but... alright, I have no excuse. [He laughs. Fuck.]

Hit me with it, I've got a lot of time on my hands.

[ She takes a deep breath and lets it out. ]

Ok. You asked for this, don't forget.

Right. So I'm a roadie, you know? Or I was. [ Her lips screw to the side. Who knows if her job would still be there when she got back. ] Anyway, when I started with the Staton-House Band, my manager was this guy named Big Phil. Now, Big Phil was a legend, right? He met Lynyrd Skynyyrd when they came to buy tackle at his dad's bait shop in Florida and just went on the road with them. He had been around forever, totally murdered like two guys but never got caught for it. All that stuff.

So then this guy, Reg. [ Talking about Reg still gives her a lump in her throat. She looks ahead and swallows it. ] He ended up firing him because turns out Big Phil was like, defrauding Hurricane Katrina victims. And Big Phil pulled a gun on him. And I wasn't too mad about that because Big Phil never knew my name. Kept calling me Kelsey Lee or Bobbi Jo or just whatever he thought was close. It's Kelly Ann it's not that hard. And I wanted a nickname but like a cool one like Big Phil or Wes Coast or Milo. Something that meant something. You know?

Anyway at the end of the tour Big Phil came back for a bit. After he was done with the Swiftworld tour and like, back on Earth. We had this corporate gig for a rubber company and that kind of sucked. [ There was more good, with Reg. When she started to think things might actually work out. For once. At least for a little.

What a joke.

She doesn't think about that and continues. ] And I was talking to Big Phil and then like, I mean we were just talking he wasn't mad or anything. But he had a heart attack and died. And I was the only one with him when he died and the last thing he said, he looked right at me and said "Pistachio".

And I didn't tell anybody because I couldn't. Like. They all wanted something... meaningful. And what the fuck was that? So they kept wanting it and at the memorial concert I gave one of the eulogies and I told them all. And then later his son he, um. He told me it was the name of the horse Big Phil always bet on.

[ She shrugs. ]

[Peter listens attentively, raising his brows here and there like he's listening to someone state what they were imprisoned for inside a tiny elevator mid prison break. No judgment then, none now, even though he really wasn't expecting that finish for the story. He was kinda expecting a whole "I ate a lot of pistachios as a kid and my parents told me I'd turn into one" kinda deal. This, though? Better.

He can't help it though, he laughs.] So what, they started calling you it after that? Or did you just wanna outshine the poor guy's horse by stealing its name?

[ He laughs and she dips her head. Adam didn't react at all when she told the story. Laughing is worse. It meant a lot to her but she can't really get across why. Big Phil kept saying he understood her. She won't ever know what that means, now. ]

Yeah they started calling me it after that. You can't give yourself a nickname. You have to earn it.

Shit, I'm out of luck then. [He says, giving a moment of pause because he's not Great and gauging responses or responding appropriately.]

I think it's cute though, that you keep it going? If you really hated it you could've ditched it but you didn't? I'm uh, sorry about Big Phil though. [Even if he sounds like quite a character, he also sounds like he meant something to her.]

Don't be sorry about Big Phil. He was an asshole.

[ Her breath hitches. He was an asshole. But she keeps looking for him, any time she can hear somebody in the hall ahead of her or turns a corner where she hears people talking. She looks for Big Phil and Reg and Wes and Bill and Shelli and Chris and Puna and Gooch. But they're not there. All she finds is strangers. Some of them are nice, but none of them love her.

But isn't this what she was going to have to deal with anyway, when she went to school?

She clears her throat and becomes very interested in some books written in a language she can't read. ]

Should probably give it up. It doesn't mean anything here, anyway.

Edited 2017-11-28 08:44 (UTC)

Nah, it means something - even if it's just to you. [Okay, reel it back in Peter and use more tact this time. Apply liberally directly to the forehead. And while you're at it, do not pass go and collect any money 'cause you might've just made a cute girl sad. And she's the type of girl who shouldn't be sad, it's just a vibe gets off of her.

He shifts where he's standing.] You told me the story so it means something to me now, too. Pistachio.

[ She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and just breathes until the urge passes and the lump in her throat goes back down. ]

Thanks. It's just... A lot. And I miss them. But if they were here I'd be complaining about them, so. Maybe I'm just supposed to learn to appreciate what I have. [ She shrugs. ]

Thanks for listening. [ She gives him a faltering sort of smile. ]

It's cool. [He says softly, returning her smile gently and reaching out to pat her back.]

I miss my family too. It's kinda that thing where you don't realize how much you took advantage of seeing them until you can't anymore.

[ It's weird to be touched. At least on purpose. Incidental bumping and that kind of stuff happens when you're working and living in close quarters. Which she hasn't been since she got to the station.

The whole thing is leaving her feeling raw and vulnerable in a way that she did not want, ever, and definitely not like this. Luckily the bookseller distracts her with insisting on her taking a book for the gift of her story. ]

Uh, thanks. [ She sticks it in her backpack. ]

Yeah, well. It's not like they're dead, right? [ She hopes not. ] So we will see them again. Eventually. If they're not too pissed about us running off for however long we're stuck here.

[ She sighs. ] I should probably come up with a story starting like, now, to explain all this because there's no fucking way anybody will believe me.

[He retracts his hand after a moment, listening to her with a resurfacing grin as he flicks his eyes off to the side.] I still don't know how any of this works. There's people here I know who've been here for years, others that don't remember the last ten years... timelines are a disaster.

Makes me kinda wonder how going home is - what if whatever brought us here sends us somewhere wrong? It's too sci-fi for me, man. But if my mom does notice I'm not checking in for too long I'm sooooo getting an earful next time I see her.

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