RP Log: Delonine V - Proof of (Alien) Life
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| 2025-11-14 21:12 | |
- "'Market <Delonine V>
- The open market runs for a hundred meters in each direction, with stands down the middle in places and booths lining the sides. Business is good today, as there are a lot of people at the shops looking at their wares, and haggling for the best price.
The market isn't as busy as it was the first day, maybe things are slowing. Potentially not as many items to buy will be available too.
Cristobal pauses at the entrance to the market, letting his eyes and ears and nose take it all in before he moves further in. And before he moves? First things first. He looks around the area closely, looking for signs of the written word. Of security. Crime. Police. What, exactly, are these people doing, and are there any signs?
Viari pauses as Cris does, looking sideways at him to see if it's due to alarm or not. Seeing that it's not, she simply walks forward, looking around at the vendors that remain. Her own interest is in literature or anything that might seem out of place, though her definition of 'out of place' might not fit what is ACTUALLY out of place.
Aside from the odd arguments about price, or agreed upon prices, everyone in the market is relatively friendly to one another. No one acts superior to any other Uaye, they are all on equal footing. This is apparent in their clothing as well. Some might have newer clothes, but they are all of a similar price margin, those of a worker class, and certainly noone is wearing anything lavish. There are no signs of books or written materials at this end of the market. The market extends quite far, eventually leaving the city center to the north.
Cristobal looks over to Viari, murmuring lowly to her. "I think we should simply buy some grain and bread and food, keep them as samples, and move along until we see some sign of a place we might get more information. Thoughts?"
Viari hrms softly, arms loosely crossing over her chest when she doesn't find anything specific that she's looking for. She tips her head in Cris' direction to listen to him before nodding slowly. "I think so. Buy the things we've found so far, and then keep going. Have we had a chance to see the entire market yet?" Her head turns, bobbing in the direction of the market as it extends to the north.
Cristobal looks around at the sea of people and vendors and goods, however lessened they may be. "I think that would takes months, to do in detail." He shakes his head. "For now, let's get the food samples, then start with the questions?" He looks to Tilar for any sign of disagreement, and starts walking towards whatever direction seems most promising if there is none.
Your experience in the market so far has been relatively near the alley. There are several stalls further away towards the outskrits (not actually to the outskirts, not yet) that may have what you need.
"Why don't we check the full length of the market to see what is here? I can't imagine there's only one food vendor," Viari points out to him. "If there is, then we can stop there on the way back, and then we don't have to keep carrying it with us."
Cristobal moves over in the direction of the outskirts, nodding his agreement to Viari and her plan. Mostly, he is watching people closely as he goes. This time, he really seems to be evaluating them, and closely. "No serious arguments. No fistfights. No threats." He looks to Tilar. "Dozens of species, all with different levels of prey and predator drive and evolutionary history. Does ANY of this make sense to you?"
As he walks, he's looking for a food or grain stall.
As you near the northern end of the market, there are a couple different vendors fitting your needs. One sells a number of different baked goods, while the other sells a few different types of raw and processed grains, like flour, oats, and sugar.
Viari shakes her head slowly, offering a quiet reply. "None whatsoever. The odds of them naturally evolving here like this border on the impossible." She clasps her hands behind her as she walks, humming thoughtfully. One hand rises, gesturing to the vendors with foods. "That might be a good stop. I still haven't seen any literature, though. We might want to go looking for other kinds of buildings if there are any."
Cristobal nods to her. "Well. Like all journeys, Vi, this is just another step." He grins to her, looking pleased as punch. "You know what people like to do more than trade?" The question is pretty clearly rhetorical, because he answers himself immediately. "Chat while they do it."
And, with that, he moves to the stall, raising a hand in greeting just like he's seen others do. "Greetings, friend. My friend and I are making a meal tonight. I was hoping you could help us with both some simple fare, and something more....luxurious. It's a special occasion, you see."
The merchant smiles at the couple, "All I have is here", he waves an arm over the display, "What is it you are looking for?"
"That's because you build rapport and people are more inclined to pay higher prices," Viari points out to him with a smirk. Then he's moving over to the stall, and she follows him over to look at the wares that he has on display. "Ooo... these look good." The comment is made mostly as an aside, most of the interaction left to Cris for the moment.
Cristobal grins to Vi, then points to the food item she's pointed out. "Apparently, a few of those, to begin with." He laughs, smoothly. "Also, some flour and maybe some unmilled grain for staples. But also, friend? We wanted to try something new, but neither of us have a good idea on what to try. Any ideas, friend?"
The merchant continues to smile, "These are fresh baked this morning, and still warm." He points at a scone with dates in it. "How much flour and grain are you needing? They are 1 dinar a cup."
Viari straightens up and grins over at Cris. "Maybe a couple cups of each, and we can experiment with some recipes...?" she suggests, looking over at Cristobal to see what he thinks before looking at the vendor. "Do you grow your own grains, or do you get them from elsewhere?"
Cristobal listens to Viari ask her question, nodding his own interest in the answer. Then he winces. "I only have a din, my friend. Can you make change....?" He flicks a din coin into his thumb and forefinger, holding it up for the merchant to see.
Presently, his eyes go to Tilar, and he smiles, while he still holds the coin up. "My wife is much younger than me, alas. And she's the curious sort. We are from far away from Muddah, you see." He looks over, still holding the coin. "She has many questions. Maybe...we could trade the change for some answers?"
The merchant replies to Viari, "Our farm is to the north of the city, we grow what we need and sell the rest." He turns to Ramirez, "Only a cup of each? You won't get much made with that little, but if you insist." he measures out the product and gets the change, "What questions?"
"Two cups," Viari says with a smile, holding up two of her fingers. "I figure that should be enough to make a few SMALL things, and then we can come back for more of what we like?" Eyes shift sideways towards Cris at his mention of her having some questions, skipping right over the whole 'wife' part. It's a good enough cover. "I was wondering if there was someone I could talk to about history. It's a wonderful way to come up with stories to tell. Tie in a little bit of truth with the tale, and it becomes a better story."
Cristobal nods to Viari, slowly, as if her notion is an interesting one. With a shrug, he looks back to the merchant. "It took as many weeks to walk here. We are from the middle of nowhere, and we know so little about, well, anything. We want good stories to tell when we return home." His eyes go back to the merchant.
The merchant smiles at the increase and dolls out the extra of each. "History? Like of Muddah?" he shrugs, unsure. He finishes packaging up the ware and holds a hand out for the din, "There is a woman, just on the outskirts who will talk your ear off about things. I don't really know how much of it is true, and how much of it is her imagination, but it sounds like she might be what you are looking for?"
Viari gives a laugh at the mention of the old woman at the outskirts, clasping her hands together in front of her. "Yes, I think that sounds about right. It's okay if it's her imagination; the people I talk to certainly won't know the difference." She grins over at Cris before returning her gaze to the merchant. "Do you happen to know her name so that I find the right person?"
Cristobal lets a heartfelt and genuine smile spread across his face. For that is precisely what it is: genuine. He lets the din touch the merchant's hand, but doesn't /quite/ let go of it, yet, though he gives every indication that he is about to do so. He seems to be waiting for the woman's name.
"Oh you can't miss her, or at least she never misses me in passing. I don't know her name though." The merchant scowls ever so slightly at Ramirez, "We have a deal, if you won't complete your end, I will inform all the other merchants not to do business with you."
"Pay the man," Viari tells Cris, taking a sterner tone with him. "He's been very helpful." She turns to the merchant, giving him an apologetic look. "You HAVE been very helpful, thank you. Once we've decided what exactly we want to make, I'll make sure to return. I wouldn't want to change the end result by using the wrong grain, after all." A grin is given to the merchant. "And maybe you'll get home a bit faster if the woman is busy talking to me when you pass."
Cristobal releases the coin, nodding his head to Viari. It's like some question was answered for him. The din is released. "Of course, I am no one to go back on a deal. Never let such a terrible thing be said of me." He pauses, and adds, "You've treated us very fairly, on that note. For myself, I will tell everyone of your fair-minded nature."
He looks to Viari, brow-ridges lifting. "So. Shall we?"
The transaction completed, and the grain and flour handed over, the merchant turns to another customer. "Enjoy your conversation."
Viari takes the goods that are passed their way, leaving Cristobal's hands free just in case. "That almost went sideways," she murmurs quietly in his direction, giving him a small smirk. "But we have a lead now." She seems pleased enough, walking through the market in the general direction of their next stop.
Cristobal snorts. "Not really. We actually learned something." He looks over. "THERE'S the mechanism that keeps order, Vi." He nods back towards to the merchant as he walks. "That was a threat. The social enforcement mechanism would appear to be reputational damage." He grin to Vi. "You're welcome. For when you write the paper." And, with that, he heads north. "Let's see if we can find this talkative woman."
"That would explain why we haven't seen much by the way of law enforcement." Viari frowns a bit at him, flicking her eyes sideways. "Which... actually, the room we're in right now... is she someone who has lost reputation? Is that why she is in that situation? Are we going to run in to complications by associating with her?" More questions. No answers yet. That's a Later Problem. For now, she just walks with Cris, heading north.
Cristobal shrugs as he goes. "It's not like we're living here the rest of our lives. We would learn something, if it shook out that way." He looks over to Vi a sidelong snap of his eyes. "Like any good line of inquiry, more questions get raised with each answer.
Viari shakes her head slightly. "My main concern is that, if that's the case, people may stop talking to us," she tells him quietly. "But it's also possible that it's based on individual merit. As long as we stay honest, things will be fine." She looks down at the grains in hand, studying them. "We also learned that the soil here is healthy for crops. At least grain crops, and whatever else was on that pastry."
Cristobal nods. "Oh, have a field day with your analysis." He looks over, shrugging. "I mean. I can actually help with the grain and soil analysis. If you want a hand." He seems slightly unsure in even asking, but there it is.
The merchant was right, as not long after new prey come out of the city, a woman in her mid-40s, judging by her appearance, approaches waggling a hand in the air, "Hello, hello" she calls cheerily, "I've not seen you two before. having a good day?"
"Well. If you WANT to..." Viari trails off, letting her voice dip lower for his ears only. "Once we're done here, there will be time for a full in-depth analysis. And we can work together to blow the dust off that part of your memory. Or you can review the samples in your down time."
Then they're heading north and seeking the woman who apparently talks a lot. Which is exactly what Viari wants. Spotting the woman, she offers a smile and lifts her free hand in greeting. "Yes, we are. So far, at least. Is your day going well?"
Cristobal looks over to Tilar, chuckling at something, and then turns his gaze back to the mid-40's woman. A hand is raised in greeting, but he doesn't interrupt Viari. Only after the UnTrill finishes speaking does he interject. "For myself, my day is going well." He says nothing else, letting the other woman set the pace.
"Splendid, splendid." The woman replies, "You two look like a happy couple, just married? I've been to all kinds of weddings, let me tell you. There was the time my cousin got married, such a happy wonderful occasion. Lovely story."
"Yes, just recently," Viari says, playing along with the tale Cris has already established for the day. "Weddings are lovely, but I was hoping I might be able to get some stories about the history of this place." Her free hand gestures about, somewhat broadly. "This is the first time I've visited this specific area, and I'm hoping to learn more so that I can tell my own stories when we return home. How long have you lived here?"
Cristobal glances to Tilar. "Er, yes. Our marriage is a VERY new thing." He looks back to the old woman, shrugging, and goes quiet.
The woman smiles, happy to have an eager audience, "Oh I travel some, mostly between here and Sulan to the north. I have family in both cities. I could tell you about the time there was a brawl at the market", she points back down the road, "It was so strange, but an argument over price got out of hand. A remarkable story."
"We don't travel a great deal, so we haven't seen too many things yet. It's one of the reasons I'm trying to learn as much as I can. Is Sulan much different than here?" Viari tilts her head curiously, genuinely interested in the answers that she might get. "The market here has a lot of things, and we didn't see too much arguing about prices. Some negotiating is natural, of course, but no real fighting."
Cristobal's reaction is much stronger. "A brawl? In the /market?/ People came to /blows/?" He looks shocked, SHOCKED! "Surely you overstate matters. I've never heard of such a thing." He looks over to Tilar, then back to the other woman.
"How long ago WAS this?"
"It was a few years ago now." The woman continues, "I had never seen the like either, everyone was talking about it for days after. Eventually the parties involved were separated but, a remarkable story." She smiles at Viari, "Sulan is the last place the", she looks around, "protectorate visited.", she asks, before wanting to offend, "How do you feel about the First?"
Viari follows the woman's lead, looking around presumably to see if people are listening in. She steps just a little close, letting the volume of her voice drop. "Well, I don't offer prayers myself, but I know that there are still quite a few people that do," she says, weighing the woman's response. "For things that are so important, surprisingly few people are willing to talk about the protectorate. But you don't seem to be the fearful type, unless I'm getting the wrong impression. You seem incredibly well-traveled to me."
Cristobal glances towards Viari, his motion...careful, somehow. His brow-ridges lift. Picking up the thread of her conversations, he says, "I, myself, am far to young to have seen the protectorate." He shakes his head. "And while I am not a pious man, I am a curious one."
He pauses and adds, "Neither me nor my wife ever saw the protectorate, or even heard much about them where we are from."
"No, you wouldn't would you. Even those in Muddah would have been young the last time they were here." The woman replies, "Sulan was the last place that I know of they visited, even then it was a decade ago. They visited regularly then, Quires spreading the word." She faulters only briefly, gauging your previous response, "You'll hear /that/ phrase far more often in Sulan, are you of the N'Vol. I believe in the First myself, but in my own way. There was a time, or so the stories go, handed down through the generations from my mother, and her mother before her and so on, a time before the protectorate." She adds one last gotcha moment, "My mother wasn't even born on this planet, now that's an exciting story."
Viari's eyes widen slightly. "She wasn't born on this planet? How is that even POSSIBLE?" She looks around the street before glancing to Cris and then back at the woman. "Can you tell me that story? I've never heard anything like that before. Is there a place that we can sit, maybe? I'd love to hear some of those tales. They'd make great stories to bring home." One hand lifts, waving in the air like an invisible banner. "The Otherworldly Wonder, The Beginning of the Protectorate... then maybe The Last Protectorate."
Cristobal doesn't jump, exactly, but there is clear excitement in his eyes at the woman's final sentence. He looks over to Tilar, nodding quickly, and then looks back to the talkative woman. "Sulan has many of the N'Vol?" He pauses, shaking his head. "Never you mind. Please tell the tale of your mother!"
The woman continues her tale as she leads you over to a nearby wagon where you can sit, and are no longer in the middle of the road, "Tavilla, that is the name of the planet she was born on, and according to her, generations before her weren't even from there. I don't know the name of our ancestral home, other than home. It just wasn't a thing people needed to know, why would you? You never expect to be taken from it." She looks up at the sky, "The protectorate have ships that can fly through the sky and go from planet to planet. Magical machines. You may not like this, but I think all of our ancestors were from other worlds, at some point, long ago brought here. But why, I don't know."
Viari follows the woman over to the wagon, listening attentively to the tale she begins to tell. She settles down to sit nearby, watching with interest. "I certainly couldn't imagine being taken from my home by a magical sky ship," she says, looking up towards the sky. "Magical machines that take people away from planets to come here by the protectorate?" Then she frowns and looks back at the woman. "I wonder why they would do that. And then to just leave everyone here...? Do you know why they left?" Viari shakes her head a bit, offering the woman a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I have a lot of questions."
Cristobal laughs, his tone light and cheerful. With a vague motion to Viari, he says to the other woman. "Can you see why I married her? Her curiosity is so intense, like the noon sun!" He shakes his head. "Magical sky ships." He considers, then asks, "What did they look like? The Protectorate?"
"Some are really tall beings with glowing orbs above their heads, while others are spiders and bats." The woman replies in all seriousness, "There are many stories on why they left, many mourn their absence, fearing their connection to the First will fade."
"The beings of the protectorate all look different?" Viari asks, head tilting curiously to one side. "Just like the people around here all look different?" She grins over at Cristobal as he mentions her curiosity, giving a small shrug of her shoulders. "The best stories hold grains of truth. And I can't learn about the past unless I ask, right?" Then she looks back to the woman. "What did they do when they came? Bring people? Talk to people? Teach people? Why do YOU think they left?"
Cristobal wonders out loud, though he nods along with Viari's questions. "Why do /you/ think they left?" He looks to the woman, shaking his head. "And what of the Quires? What are they doing, now that the Protectorate has gone." He considers. "Sulan was the last place they were seen? Is that the city that bears the old road and a giant monument to the Protectorate, that they used to land their magical skyships upon? We heard a story about that."
There is another pause, and he thinks something through. "Your mother. How did she describe Tavilla? What was it like?"
The woman shrugs, "I never thought about it, maybe they brought people, maybe they took people too, that makes for a good story. Yes, I think you are right, they would bring people here and take others elsewhere to help spread the word of the First, it must be." She gives Viari a questioning look, "Of course everyone looks different, they always have. Here, on Tavilla, it is the same, we are of the N'Vol" "Why do I think they left, they saw faith dwindling, and could no longer watch as the faithless numbers grew." She sobs and looks up to the sky and prays.
Viari gives the woman a sympathetic look. "Just because the faith is quiet doesn't mean that it's gone," she says quietly, shaking her head. "I'm sure there are people who don't believe, but I'm just as sure that there are people who do. Just quietly. In their way." Her eyes shift sideways to Cris as the woman offers a prayer up to the sky, before she returns her attention to the woman, waiting patiently for her to have her moment of grief before speaking again. "What is your favorite story about the Protectorate and The First?"
Cristobal seems content to remain quiet, now. He clearly listens, intently, but does nothing to ruin the flow of the older woman's story.
It takes a long few minutes before the woman is responsive again, "When I was little, a Quire was singing, and I swear I could see the First begin to materialize above his head. A glowing aura of warmth and love."
Cristobal leans to the UnTrill near him, and murmurs something before Viari can respond, quietly enough to nor disrupt the flow of conversation. A low whisper. "In Catholicism, we call them angels. Messengers of the gods."
Viari offers her a warm smile. "That sounds magical," she says, looking towards Cris as he leans in to speak to her before refocusing on the woman. "What happened next? Have you seen it happen again, or just the once when you were young?"
"That's all I remember, seeing the First." The woman replies, "It's why I still pray, I believe."
Cristobal doesn't seem inclined to ask any questions, leaving that to the young woman next to him near the wagon. Instead of a question, he comments, softly, "That is a beautiful story." Watching her, his voice goes soft. "I believe in the First, in my way, too. I've never seen the hand of the First at work, though. I envy you. I envy your story." Whatever else he might be, in that moment, he sounds utterly sincere.
"That's definitely something I would never forget." A look is given to Cris as he speaks, his words given some silent thought before the attention shifts back to the woman with them. Viari leans back a bit in her seat, thinking for a moment before her next question. "What about the sky ships? Do you think they're real?" Her eyes go a little bit wider then, expression shifting to one of mild excitement. "Have you SEEN one?"
"I've heard tell they are as large as cities, and might even be up in the sky now, too far to see from here." The woman replies.
His eyes are wide as he looks to the woman, and what little acting he is doing still has raw sincerity infused in it. "That would be a site to see." He sighs, and shakes his head in soft wonder. "Do you think the Quires truly spread the message of the Protectors?"
Viari tips her head back to look up at the sky, searching it pointedly before shaking her head and returning her focus to their companion. "That's almost impossible to imagine. A vessel as big as a city? But it doesn't fall out of the sky? How does that even work?" Though that does sound like a more rhetorical line of thought. "Do you think the Protectorate will ever come back?"
The woman is sad again thinking about their absence, "I don't know if they ever will. But yes, after what I saw, I do believe the Quire spread the word of the First."
Cristobal reaches out, and nearly touches the older woman's arm, though he stops himself. Instead, he smiles -- heartfelt, rich, and pure. "Do not be sad. I think, no matter what happens with the Protectorate? You will ALWAYS feel your connection to the first." He moves to stand, jerking a sort of 'come here' gesture to Viari. To the other woman, he says, "WE must go. My wife and I must make food. But...what is your name?"
"Nice of you to ask, it is Bonnil." The woman replies, "Thank you for speaking with me. Have a wonderful day."
Viari gives a somewhat dramatic sigh at the gesture from Cristobal, but she obeys, rising up onto her feet. She turns to look at the now-named woman and gives her a warm smile. "Thank you for the stories, Bonnil. I hope I have the chance to see you again, either here or in Sulan."
Cristobal gives Bonnil a broad smile -- again, it looks truly heartfelt -- and then turns to go, his pace light and sure.