| 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...
|
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.
|
|
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...
|
|
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. |
|
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
savmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2017-11-09 08:50 pm
no subject
He skims his fingers over a stall again, this time not as caught up in his own head.] Is that right?
You're not telling me you got wickedly dumped, are you? How many times you get dumped?
no subject
How many times?
[ Some of the more spectacular ones stand out. He pauses in his perusing. ]
It's been quite a few times. C'est la vie. [ He chuckles again. ] C'est l'amour, non?
no subject
Bummer. [It's oddly kinda funny to think of Erik getting dumped - humanizing? Shit, it's humanizing.]
Finding someone to date in space feels like five hundred times more complicated but I guess you miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take, right? [A pause.] Booth over there's got a bigger one - might look cool in the club.
no subject
Yes, that's... a word for it. You know, there's times when you are suffering heartbreak when you think you might actually die from it. [ He shrugs. ] You don't. Life goes on.
[ He looks to the lamp that Peter indicates. ] Good eye. [ He pats him on the shoulder as they go over to get a closer look. ]
Are you really having such a difficult time? Or are you simply not capitalizing on opportunity.
[ Erik's own circumstances have made him appreciate his own foresight in claiming a private room far away from everybody else. And his detailed calendar. ]
no subject
I guess... it's more like this isn't a permanent place? So it kinda sucks to think you or your date might disappear at any moment but I guess if you're not looking for a happily ever after, it's alright.
[Peter can get behind that, he thinks. Spoiler: He'll probably develop stupid feelings anyway, making everything 10x more complicated than it needs to be. But that's the risk, right? Maybe he can find some sick friends with benefits set up or something.
Or just die alone.] Shit was more complicated back home. Here I guess I have no excuse but to get out there.
no subject
Peter...
[ He trails off. How many times had he started the day, thinking he knew how it was going to end. Thinking he knew how the rest of the week, month, year, his life was going to end. And something happens. That bond he thought so secure it could withstand anything is irrevocably severed. That person he had given his heart to was gone. ]
This isn't any different. We don't know how long we will be here. We don't know how long a relationship will last. We don't know how long we will live. If that is the fear that is stopping you, I suggest you find some way to make peace with it. Loss is part of life. That hasn't changed just because our location has changed.
As for the rest. Love doesn't have to be everlasting to matter. Something doesn't have to matter to be worthwhile.
no subject
Guess you're right. It's better to do things... while you can? While you have the opportunity, right? [He asks, his voice - thinning, eyes again averting with a heaving sigh. He turns away to poke at a wall of floral arrangements, staring at colored petals. Inadvertently Peter's changing the subject, drawing this conversation to a different topic that is tangibly related.]
Does it count if there's something you should tell someone, but you don't know how to do it? Like, it could change everything and it makes you freeze up but you wanna do it anyway. If you have the chance to do it, you should? Risk or no risk of mangling up things?
no subject
But in terms of personal relationships? [ He sighs. ] Every time that I had something important to tell somebody that I cared about, and I did not tell them? I regretted it. Once they're gone, once you have missed that chance, it haunts you. Even if it goes badly. Knowing is always better than ignorance, in my experience.
no subject
His mother's words repeat in his head: It won't end well. Nothing does with him.]
I'm... [He stares blankly at the wall of flowers in front of him, bouquets and living pots from the ground to above his head. His fingers trail over a couple plants, pulling back from the leaves of one after they make his fingertips numb and he feels like stuffing it down his throat to keep himself from hoarsely trying to blurt out something stupid. He's ever so aware of Erik's presence behind him.
Peter closes his eyes, tightly screwing them shut as he mouths a few words in silence and struggles to find his voice. A deep breath, he finds it, but it's weak:]
You're kinda my father.
[Once the words are out of his mouth he doesn't know if they existed anymore; were they said aloud? Were they heard? His eyes dart side to side in a brief, hectic panic that surges through him like electricity and forces him to shift weight from foot to foot. He looks back at Erik slowly, turning on the spot with a scattered expression of anticipation mixed with fear at how he'll respond.
After all, there is a risk of mangling up things. As always.]
no subject
Well, you know what they say. Audentes Fortuna iuvat, "he who hesitates is lost", there's any number of proverbs advising action over an abundance of caution.
[ He didn't notice when the subject changed to a different sort of revelation.
My mom once knew a guy who could do that.
At this point in his life, Erik has become accustomed to bad news. As accustomed as anybody can be, that is. The sort of thing that rips the ground out from under your feet and plunges you into a chaotic grief that you think you might never recover from.
I'm here for my family, too.
He sets the lamp down and turns to face Peter, a riot of emotions fighting for dominance. Fear and anger surface first, as they are the most familiar. When he speaks the threat is clear. ]
If this is some kind of joke, it is an exceptionally tasteless one, Peter Ma--
[ He stops, his eyes widen. He had noticed the last name, of course. The echo of something put aside almost thirty years ago. He hadn't thought much of it. Names are names, and his own was much more common, once upon a time.
The air leaves him, and he is unable to speak for a moment. He takes a step and grips Peter's shoulders, looking into his eyes as if that would confirm what he's still afraid to hope for. ]
Your mother... Natalya? She must be... When were you born?
no subject
Fifty six. You, you... left before I was born. [His voice waivers, but he corrects:] Before me and my sister were born.
I didn't know back ten years back. I only... found out after. And then you were gone until Cairo.
[And we all know how Cairo went. Even Charles, with help from #CrutchesGate.] That's when I went looking.
no subject
[ He closes his eyes briefly at the wave of grief. You had another sister. I'm sorry. That can come later. He needs to focus on his son. His son! Alive, here, in front of him. ]
Peter, you need to understand: I didn't know. Your mother... we did not part on good terms. I'm sure she had her reasons.
[ He is angry that Natalya kept this from him. But now is not the time or the place. And besides... ]
I would not have been a good father to you. Not then. All I knew was anger, all I wanted was revenge. She knew that.
[ Not until he met Charles did that begin to fade. And even then, it was only killing Shaw that freed him from his mission of vengeance. ]
no subject
He gets it. He really does. But it still sucks to spend so much of your life not knowing who your father is. He kept that anger kindled for a while too, letting it go when he left home to sort things out for himself. And here he is- staring up at his father who is... finally seeing him?
This is weird. Peter's brain shouts "abort, abort" halfheartedly to the serious vibe.
He counters the situation with a strained sense of humor:] I don't know what you did, man... but yeah, she's not your biggest fan.
[He weakly laughs, barely a shake of his shoulders.] I did try to tell you before but...
no subject
Sorry, there's just so much... [ He touches Peter's face briefly, with just his fingertips. His son. His son! It's still so hard to believe. ]
It's alright. You don't have to apologize. I know, now. That's what matters.
You look so much like my Uncle Max. Except for the hair, naturally.
[ He looks around, remembering that he's in the middle of a marketplace on an alien planet. ]
Do you want to go sit down somewhere or get a drink or something?
no subject
Yeah, this is - this is hard to process.
Weakly:] Yeah? That'd... be cool.
[If he has something else to focus on he might be able to relax a little and stop feeling like he needs to bolt away from this conversation at the next possible second. He wants to hear more, learn more - share more?] You had an uncle named Max?
no subject
Yes. My uncle. [ He pauses. This story, like his story about The Brotherhood, ends in death. There are still gaps in his memory, but time and Charles' help has allowed him to reclaim more than he used to have. ] Uncle Max was my father's younger brother. There were others. We were quite a big family, actually. But I was particularly close to Uncle Max.
My father was... he had served in the Kaiser's army, a decorated officer [ the fact of that always makes the words bitter in his mouth ] during the Great War and was a hard man in many ways. Uncle Max could make him laugh. He had a way of making problems seem not quite so dire. Which was incredible as the problems became incredibly dire. [ To say the least. Erik smiles softly before continuing.]
He wanted to fight. They would argue about it. Father said he had a family, he couldn't risk... I think Uncle Max saw where things were going more clearly. Or maybe he was just frustrated. He came with us when we went to Warsaw and joined the underground. He died in the Uprising.
[ He is quiet for a moment. His uncle should have known his son. He should have known his son. His son! He's here, now. Alive right next to him. He looks at him again, still not quite believing his eyes. ]
There is so much to tell you. And so much I don't know about you. It's difficult to know where to start.
Were you... happy? Growing up?
no subject
'Was dad like me?' His mom's expression when he asked that question was not something he'd easily forget.]
Yeah, I guess? It was okay. [He gives an answer that doesn't answer much, skimmed off the surface while gears turn underneath and he thinks of how better to describe it.] My mom raised me and my sisters mostly on her own, I'm the eldest... not that it really counts when it's by twelve minutes, but still. We went through some rough patches but...
[Things looked up when he started stealing?? Okay so a lot of that was for frivolous personal gain but stocking the fridge so his family could eat was also part of the deal; it's not like anyone could prove he was raiding the produce section in 1970. Not something he wants to really delve into right now - so he sums it up with a shrug:]
Made it through.
no subject
I had money. I still do. A great deal of money. She knows this.
[ His mouth sets in a line. That money and how he intended to get it was what drove them apart. ]
When we get back, I will make sure that you and your sister have access to it. Whatever your mother wants to do with her finances is her business, but that money is your inheritance.
no subject
Dad's rich though, eh? Sweet.] Thanks, I guess. I don't really care about money, to be honest.
That's not why... [He loses his voice; glancing away.
It's not why he went looking for his father, but he doesn't know how to sum up why he did. To know? To let him know? To learn. Never to ask for anything, never to expect anything. There might be a small part of him that wants to demand things but it's just a remnant of an angry kid who didn't know better at the time.]
no subject
[ He puts his hand over Peter's. ] I know you didn't know about it. And it doesn't make up for anything. It's the best I can do under the circumstances.
no subject
He hates this feeling.
He really fucking hates this feeling?
The lightest tremble that runs from the tip of his fingers to the toes of his shoes at the touch of his father's hand and he stares at it for a moment before the itchy feeling arises and he watches himself pull back his hand. His fingers curl in and he stuffs them into his pocket, pitching to sit forward on the bench like he's a bird on the edge of taking off. Because he is. He really needs to have a good run to let all of this... settle.
But he didn't mean to make that abrupt, to end anything, so he looks back to Erik and it's not hard to notice the tremble's still in him by means of his bottom lip and how his gaze is jumpy. That and how his voice is a little off kilter.] Okay.
I mean. Thanks? [He closes his eyes for a second, scrunching them up. Nice, Peter.]
I don't know how to do this. It's kinda freaking me out but not in a bad way? But in a... 'there's a lot going on and even I'm not keeping up with all of it' kinda way. I want to know more - I've had questions for my father since I was like, ten. But I can't even think of any of them now that...
[He looks to Erik again after avoiding his gaze for those few sentences. How do you ask for a breather on a conversation you initiated? "Oh, let's reconvene after I stop freaking out over the fact you seem like you might care about me". How's that gonna go down?] Now that I get the chance to ask you. Y'know?
no subject
[ Erik doesn't know what to do. He can tell that Peter is struggling, and he wants to help that. But he is the cause of that struggle, and it seems that anything he tries to do to comfort him, his son, backfires.
He nods at Peter's words. ]
Perhaps it would be better if we... arrange some time to talk. You could even write some things down that you'd like to know, so we don't get sidetracked. I could do the same. Is that... acceptable?
no subject
That works. That works for me.
[He can have some time to digest this, to ask Jean or Wanda if they have any advice. Also to warn his sister that he's run his mouth so that she doesn't get unexpectedly wound up in this, either. But most importantly he'll have some time to stop feeling so freaked out. That'll be great.]
Couple days from now?
no subject
What does one do in this situation? What if he makes a mistake and loses him forever? ]
Yes, a few days from now would work nicely. And if you change your mind, please let me know. We can adjust our plans accordingly.
[ He keeps his tone carefully neutral, doing what he can to conceal his desperate fear that Peter will decide that he wants nothing to do with him, and whatever tenuous relationship they have now will be lost forever as quickly as it appeared. ]
no subject
I'll see you then? [Trying to make it sound more positive and hopeful as he gets up to stand, uncertain of how best to part ways.
He just lifts a hand in a half-hearted wave.] Later.
[The second he's out of sight he's going to try to smother himself with his hands over his face.]