| 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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He shifts where he's standing.] You told me the story so it means something to me now, too. Pistachio.
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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. ]
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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.
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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.
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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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I really hope not. Nobody else here has ever heard of the Staton-House Band. What if I get sent to somewhere they never existed?
[ She's quiet a moment. The idea of never having the music is too much. She can't even begin to approach it. ]
Actually, I probably would have gone with Wes on the Pearl Jam tour. Maybe I could have kept him from getting fired from that gig.
[ God only knows what Wes is up to, now. She really hopes he isn't going to jail over his dumbass "guitarden". She glances up at him. ]
Your mom still keeps tabs on you?
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And then... awkwardly laughs.] Well - I lived at home for like, forever? And then I took off to do something stupid that my mom told me not to and I'm sure she's gonna think something catastrophically bad happened to me if I don't check in.
I know, what kinda loser lived at home 'til his late twenties? This guy. [Self depreciating thumb point at himself.] Though I bet she's damn happy I'm not at home anymore.
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[ She shakes her head. ] Dude. Everybody lives with their parents. You're just doing ti before it's cool. I'd probably do it, too. It just... you know, wasn't an option.
I bet your mom misses you. [ She isn't exactly sure what that is like, but it seems like the sort of thing a good mom would feel. Peter is the kind of person who's easy to miss. ]
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And... thirty years of music? Dude. Duuuude. Please, hook me the fuck up. [He smiles - legitimate joy going on rn.] If you have any RUSH post '83 you will be making my day, week and year. I'll show you my tapes when we're back so you can maybe give me some music recs once you know my vibe?
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So what's the long story? If it's dumber than mine you can make up something cooler.
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He gestures for her to follow him, nodding off to a grassy patch of land to the side - facing a fountain are a few benches, a trellis full of blossoms to the side. If he's going to get into this whole backstory shit they might as well sit down again. He rests his guitar against a potted plant and sits on the bench, rummaging through his pockets for some small pink fruit that are almost identical to tangerines - offering her one of the three he pulls out.] But yeah, story time.
I grew up with my two sisters and my mom, who raised us on her own. And like you know, my twin sister and I are kinda... shall we say special? But like, whatever - we make it through but in my teen years I kind of got recruited by some other guys to help break into the Pentagon and break out a prisoner. Total prison break. So I tag along because I'm seventeen and that sounds like fucking fun, yeah? Wanna guess what the guy was locked away for?
Guess. Go on. [He has too much fun telling these stories - and he wonders if the truth will sound fabricated after she's given him the allowance to dress it up.]
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Is your sister fast, too or does she do something else?
[ The story takes a turn she wasn't expecting as she is lifting a segment of fruit to her mouth. She pauses. ]
The... They have a jail in the Pentagon? So like. Max supermax? He'd have to be like some kind of serial killer terrorist. Like literally bin Laden. If bin Laden was also Ted Bundy. Why the fuck were they busting him out?
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But uh, yeah. Like the most secure prison I've ever heard of. He was a mutant they needed the help of and used to know? He was uh, there for JFK. Allegedly. He didn't do it... but still, like. Shit, right?
[He's excited and talking fast, sorry Kelly Ann.] He can control metal so that's why they booked him. And why his prison was nothing but glass so he couldn't escape. At least 'til I helped bust him out with the other three guys - anyway, he went off to nearly kill another president and basically become the most wanted fugitive in the US of A back home.
But wait. There's more. [He pauses tho, for questions and a dramatic hand motion.]
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Ok. Metal. That. Ok. That could be helpful for stuff. And hard to keep him in a normal prison, I guess. I thought Lee Harvey Oswald killed JFK?
Are you sure he didn't do it because if the first thing he does after getting out is another assassination attempt or whatever that's kinda damning.
[ She puts the fruit in her mouth finally and blinks because it sort of tastes like jalapeño but not spicy? Her lips twitch a little in amusement with how much he's enjoying his show. ]
Ok. What else?
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The part where I decide to go track this guy down as soon as I get a lead on him? I actually went looking for the guy who recruited me in '73, ended up getting more involved than I bargained for - but I wanted to find this guy, y'know? And I figured his ex-best friend would be the guy who'd know where to find him.
[Another pause.] 'Cause Mr fugitive's my dad, I found out.
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Dunno he might have had the right idea about Nixon. Not sure an ex-bestfriend would be the best lead but whatever.
[ Quietly. ] Wait, for real? Did they know he was your dad?
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And I didn't dent the car or anything - I might like to run but I do know how to drive. [He finds that amusing, considering it a mild detail in the overall absurdity of his story.]
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[ She keeps eating the fruit, wondering if it will get better if she keeps going. ]
I guess she cut him out for a reason. Like, getting-jailed-under-the-Pentagon kind of reason. I mean, even if they framed him for JFK, it's not like you get on the list of patsies for presidential assassinations just by like, jaywalking.
[ She shakes her head. The fruit is getting a little better. ] God. That must have been so weird to realize it afterward. Sometimes I wonder if like, I've seen my mom somewhere. But if she's in jail it's not for anything like that. More like. Normal junkie stuff.
So did you find your dad? After you left your mom's?
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I might get another chance though. But I know what you mean - until I knew, I didn't know. And I'd always wonder if I was gonna like, walk by my dad at the grocery store and never even know it.
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Mom left. So did Dad, technically. But Mom could have come back.
She rubs Peter's shoulder. ]
I don't blame you. I probably would have chickened out, too.
Do serial attempted assassins even go to the grocery store? Can't really imagine like, John Hinckley at Ralph's.
[ Did Mom go to Ralph's? Was Mom still alive? ]
Did he like, know about you? Like you busted him out of jail and he didn't say anything? That's... seriously cold. Maybe it's better if you don't say anything.
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He didn't know - doesn't know. About me or my sister. He let my mom before I was born and she didn't tell him... for all the reasons I'm sure we can brainstorm. Don't know how I feel about it but there's not much I can do now, y'know? Other than take what I can into my own hands and... figure it out.
I spent a lot of my life... not doing a lot. I'm still working to shake loser-status.
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[ The fruit wasn't tasting like jalapeño at all to her anymore. More like... papaya? ]
Well, like. What'a loser? I know plenty of seriously successful people who completely suck as human beings. And I bet if you knocked some girl up she wouldn't hide it from you because she was afraid of what you might do to her kid, so you're better than your dad already.
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I mean it'd be cool and all but I'm soooo not at that level of responsibility a kid deserves? At least not yet. I know what they say is that you never are until you have that kid and you step up to the plate but still. I'm not even confident about adopting a dog. [Is he talking about kids too much now? Fuck.] Shit, now I miss dogs. Why don't we have more space dogs.
Purple, six legs, maybe three eyes... I could get behind space dogs.
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Dude I live on a bus remember?
[ The talk of kids has made her feel really weird. And think of Donna, with her baby in NICU. Or Shelli and her decision to not even try. Or her own mom. God. ]
I can't even have a goldfish on the bus. [ She sighs. ] It would be nice to have a dog. I never got to have a pet like, ever. It always seemed fun? But it doesn't look like you can get a dog here.
[ Her eyes widen and she grabs his arm. ]
What about those little dinosaurs?
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They're cooler than space dogs. And they're here.
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