Journey Details

Setting: Vedere

Form: Various characters

Length: 5 Waypoints

Waypoint 1: National Museum of Visimancy

Form: Kaze Hawkinson

Travel

Maglev trains were the transportation mode of choice when it came to traveling between cities, but to get around the city itself, most people (Kaze included) took the trams and monorails. The infrastructure was truly impressive, with monorails often crossing over and under each other above the streets. Rides weren't free, but Kaze was able to secure a resident's pass that allowed him unlimited trips at a discounted yearly rate.

The view out the window was mostly the same wherever he went: dense skyscrapers with everything from business offices to shops to simple housing. Like many Terminus metros, Vedere tended to grow upwards as much as it did outwards to accommodate its staggering population. On the streets, the dense crowds brought more noise than Kaze was used to back in Airedale, but the rail cars were far more quiet and peaceful. Everyone just wanted to get where they were going.

Arrival

The museum Kaze chose to visit first was a grand building, with the exterior constructed from smooth marble. Statues of Visiborn holding up abstract spheres meant to represent their Craft stood tall at either side of the stone path as Kaze approached. A fountain sat in the middle of the path, and a small group of birds flitted around it.

Kaze noted that many of the visitors to the museum stopped to gawk just as he had been. He also spotted a greater variety of Craftborn approaching the entrance than what he had seen out in the city; it seemed this place was a popular tourist destination. He got the feeling that it was a great point of pride for the city's residents, given the grandeur with which it was presented.

As he entered, he was required to pay for a ticket. Twenty serits was a steeper price than he was expecting, but he figured it had to be worth seeing such an important cultural milestone.

Exploration

Aspect 1: Three of Diamonds

While wandering the museum, looking over the various exhibits, Kaze came across something he didn't expect to see here: a Thermoborn. Thermomancy was rarely seen here in the west, so they must have come a long way. They were standing in front of a statue of an older male Visiborn, looking up at it with a sort of sadness in their eyes.

Kaze joined them at the statue and read the inscription. Apparently, it depicted Sir Rodrick Whitaker, captain of the expedition that first sailed across the Adhart and discovered Naubia. While the event was more important to the history of Thermomancy, Captain Whitaker was notable in that he gave up his life as a Visiborn to join the native society he found and bring its gifts to the rest of the world. It was a proud moment for his race, immortalizing him as a beacon of Visiborn selflessness.

"Rodrick was my great-great-grandfather," the Thermoborn standing next to Kaze said. He had a thick eastern accent, but his Skallen was more than enough to be understood. "An imposing figure, yes?"

"Mm-hm." Kaze nodded, looking up at the statue again with fresh perspective. "It must be nice to be able to come see him."

"Very nice. Always respect your heritage." He patted Kaze on the shoulder, and then slithered off to another exhibit.

Aspect 2: King of Spades

At the center of the museum, the room suddenly opened into a grand rotunda encircled by marble pillars. Kaze looked up and gasped as he saw an enormous mural painted across the entire ceiling, several stories up. He could go up a few floors to view the painting from the balconies at the higher levels, of course -- and indeed, several other tourists were doing just that -- but with his Visimancy, he could "zoom in" on every detail right from where he was standing.

The painting seemed to depict a legend about the origin of Visiborn. Enormous shambling creatures came out from the ocean; Kaze recognized them as the final stage of Visimancy mutation. With long, gangly limbs tipped with vicious claws, they seemed to drag their bloated bodies onto the beaches and looked out with entirely too many eyes in all the wrong places. A crowd of humans greeted them with apparent reverence. Each of the mutants were depicted removing a pair of their own eyes and gifting it to one of the humans, changing them into the Visiborn form known today.

Though Kaze recognized the sanctity of the mural, its message churned his stomach, and he pulled his eyes away.

Aspect 3: Jack of Spades

On his way out, Kaze encountered something he didn't expect to see, but knew he probably should have: a gift shop. The museum already had an entrance fee, but clearly they weren't done squeezing money out of the patrons.

Most of the stock was pretty typical -- the usual knick-knacks, t-shirts, toys, and candies -- though there was a prominent display of Visiborn plushies and action figures. It felt strange to see such blatant consumerism after wandering through such a quiet, reverent place. But... he did wind up picking up a plushie of a tapala, a large rabbit-like beast that happened to be Eskal's national animal.

Waypoint 2: Raylen Kline

Form: Oscar McCullen 

Travel

It had been a slow night for Oscar. No major events in town, no excited groups out on bar crawls, just the occasional regular ol' passenger and an unusual amount of time spent sitting in his cab waiting for another ride request to pop up.

Finally, one did. Oscar's company-issued tablet lit up with the customer's name and picture: a mister Raylen Kline. Sometimes there were also notes about the passenger's ride history -- any previous infractions, random details added by other drivers, that sort of thing -- but Raylen had nothing. Either he was completely unremarkable, or he'd never taken a Chrono Cab before. The latter seemed more likely as he had paid in advance and included a rather hefty tip. Oscar wasn't about to complain. He pulled back onto the street and headed for the pickup location.

The area Oscar usually found himself driving around was fairly upscale -- the use of Chronomancy meant a higher price than most cabs -- but this ride was especially high-brow. Once he broke through the wall of offices, the average height of the buildings shot down from dozens of stories to maybe five at most. He passed by art museums, shops for import goods and specialist hobbies, and even a few gated mansions. Whoever this guy was, he had rich taste.

Arrival

Raylen was waiting at a late night café, a cozy place that doubled as a small library. It was a popular spot to get some thinking done. The man himself stood on the curb with a calm posture, a leather briefcase in one hand. Oscar expected to find him wearing a suit, but instead Raylen wore a leather jacket and slim-fitting jeans. His hair was styled in an undercut, the longer portion flopping to one side. Small silver studs glittered in his ears. All in all, definitely not the sort of man Oscar usually saw in these parts of the city. Maybe once you got to a certain level of wealth, you stopped caring so much about fitting in with your peers.

Of course, as Raylen opened the door to the cab and got in, it became more obvious that his clothes were expensive and well-tailored. "56th and Spur," he said with a nod and a smile. When asked about the extra Chronomancy service, he turned it down; the cab had been a random selection and he preferred to talk to the driver at a normal-seeming pace.

Exploration

Aspect 1: Five of Spades

"So, heading home for the night?" Oscar asked as a lull of conversation hit. The street corner he was heading for was close to a couple of gated communities.

"Oh, no, just meeting a friend. I sleep in my lab most days, if you can believe it," Raylen said with a chuckle.

"For that genetic research stuff?"

"That's right. I get all my best work done late at night, and it's easier just to stay there. I have a little nook with a bed set up."

"Makes sense. I've passed out in the cab a couple times when I'm too far out to get back home easy."

Aspect 2: Seven of Clubs

"Oh, I wanted to ask you something," Raylen said. "Do you happen to know a mister Kaze Hawkinson?"

Oscar raised an eyebrow and looked back at Raylen through the rear view mirror. "Why?"

"He's a fellow researcher, working on similar things to me. I've seen some of his published findings and would love to speak with him. I've been asking all the taxi drivers I meet, in case one of them has given him a ride."

Well, that was fair enough. Oscar didn't know much about how the scientific community or whatever interacted, but it seemed like Kaze would appreciate the opportunity. "Sure, I know him. Got a number or a handle I can pass along?"

"Yes! Here, take my card." He slid a small leather case from his pocket and pulled out a business card, which Oscar reached back and accepted. "I really appreciate it. It's been one hell of a search."

At a red light, Oscar had a look over the card. It was decorated with a purple border and had just about everything -- a phone number, an email address, and even handles for various social media accounts. This guy sure was tuned in.

Aspect 3: Queen of Hearts

"I wish I could claim some rags-to-riches story," Raylen said, looking out the window with a small smile. "But no, I grew up in Avenia, and my upbringing was about what you would guess, seeing how I live now. We wanted for nothing. I attended all the best schools available and even received a healthy amount of scholarships for my research."

Oscar... bit his tongue. While wealthy passengers were nothing new to him, he often had a hard time getting along with them on a more personal level, precisely for this reason. He struggled to get where he was today. If it weren't for the help of his old partner, he likely wouldn't have been able to move to Vedere in the first place. He and Raylen were from different worlds, he knew that, but it was hard not to take it as a personal attack. Hoping to divert the conversation somewhat, he asked, "What brought you to Eskal?"

"The Termini," Raylen said. "I lived in Bewegen for a time alongside a good friend of mine who happens to be Proprioborn. Eventually, my travels took me here to Vedere, closer to the research communities I work with."

Hmph. 'Travels.' As if moving across the country was a simple feat. Quickly, Oscar searched for another way he could change the subject.

Aspect 4: Seven of Spades

At one point in the ride, Oscar found them stuck in a bit of traffic. The city had managed to reduce the severity of traffic jams somewhat with policies doubling down on the quality of public transportation, but in a metro as large as Vedere, they were bound to happen sooner or later. Thankfully, Raylen didn't seem to mind, simply staring out the window at the busy street. Some passengers got unruly in situations like this, blaming Oscar's navigation skills, so he was grateful for the calm attitude.

While he waited for things to get moving again, Oscar glanced down at the business card Raylen had given him earlier. It really was a fancy thing, printed on the finest cardstock with a slightly different texture for the purple border, indicating that some other material had been layered on. Oscar didn't want to know how much it cost to produce these in bulk.

Now that he was reading more closely, one of the social media handles caught Oscar's eye. Unlike the others, which were all-purpose or business-specific, the last handle was for a site meant for sharing art. Curious, Oscar asked about it.

"Ah, yes, I paint sometimes," Raylen said. "Obviously most of my business contact is for my genetic research, but you never know what sorts of opportunities will come up."

"Huh. You've got me curious, I'll have to check that out later."

"Let me know if any particular piece catches your interest."

Aspect 5: Ace of Spades

As the ride started winding to a close and conversation wrapped back around to idle small talk, Oscar asked Raylen if he had any particular favorite foods.

"Oh, I'm a big fan of roast duck, a bit of caviar, maybe some fine wine..." He trailed off into a chuckle. "Sorry, I'm joking. If you can believe it, my all-time favorite is a bowl of corn soup. Something about the warmth of it really comforts me."

Now that was something Oscar could relate to, even if he suspected Raylen was being slightly patronizing on purpose. "Ever eaten at Jakob's, down on 52nd? They've got some killer stews."

"No, I'll have to take a look. Thank you for the recommendation."

"Mmhm."

Not long after that, the pair finally arrived. Raylen might not have been Oscar's typical choice of company, but he sure made things interesting, at least.

"Thank you for the ride, Oscar," Raylen said as he climbed out. "I'll be sure to recommend you to my friends. You're an excellent driver and a great conversationalist."

Oscar only grunted his agreement and nodded. There he went again, being subtly patronizing. Rich folks were all the same, unfortunately.

Waypoint 3: Sensecraft Mutants

Form: Silvan Bright 

Travel

Silvan didn't pay many visits to the holding facility these days. It was a dreary place, and they'd gone out of their way to avoid as much dreariness in their life for many years now. It was a big part of why they'd agreed to take over the circus after the passing of their father. But they considered these visits a duty, one they'd uphold as long as they could. Even if the frequency dipped here and there.

They preferred to take their own car rather than ride the rail; while the extra attention from being an Audiborn all the way out in Eskal was sometimes enjoyable, they liked getting to take charge of their own journey, so to speak. Traffic was light -- it was only mid-afternoon, when many were still out working. The drive was familiar, almost to the point of boredom.

Arrival

Silvan strolled on into the facility with only a nod and a friendly greeting to the staff. They were a well-known guest at this point, and rarely even got stuck with an escort these days. And after a long elevator ride took them deep underground, they were soon faced with what they'd come to see: rows and rows of animal pens, each populated by one or two mutants.

And not the friendly sorts, either. These were full mutants, the ones who'd been so overexposed to Sensecraft that their bodies and minds twisted to the point of permanent unrecognizability. This facility was a place for those who elected to be detained while they were still able to communicate as much. Maybe one day, there would be a cure, and they could be returned to their loved ones. Crafters of all types were present here, though this particular facility was biased towards those with a Terminus nearby.

Each pen was enclosed with floor-to-ceiling bulletproof glass and filled mostly with plant life, water features, and rocks. It was almost like a zoo, if zoos were kept in dismal underground caverns and housed nothing but dangerous creatures that had once been people. The mutants mostly ignored Silvan at their approach; most of them had become as accustomed to their presence as the staff.

Silvan promptly made their way to one set of pens in particular. Among the mutants within were two Visiborn, a Thermoborn, and of course, an Audiborn. The first three were all old friends of theirs, members of the circus lost to their desire to put on a good show. And the final was Abrella. She was once Silvan's sister.

"Hello again, Abby," Silvan said, putting their fur-covered hand to the glass.

Abrella perked up two of her six enormous vulpine ears, and then went back to sleep.

Exploration

Aspect 1: Ten of Diamonds

If there was anyone who acted as a thorn in Silvan's side whenever they tried to protect their dear sister and all their other friends here at this facility, it was HASA. Those so-called "humanists" were always trying to defund places like this and fight for what Silvan saw as blatant, cold-blooded murder.

Just the other day, Silvan had encountered a group of HASA protestors on the way into the facility. They almost couldn't believe their eyes -- the dozens of picket signs and aggressive, shouting voices made them want to scream a few choice words of their own. But they knew full well that wouldn't solve anything; HASA and all their lackeys fought to throw mud on the reputation of even less-mutated individuals, and anything that could be perceived as violence from a Craftborn such as Silvan would only add more fuel to the fire.

"Someday, I'll find a way to help you," they muttered to Abrella. "Whether it's a cure, or simply a way to return your mind so you might speak for yourself... We'll make it happen, together."

Abrella snorted a little in response. It was impossible to tell just how much of Silvan's intent she could understand, but they liked to think she at least appreciated their company.

Aspect 2: Jack of Hearts

Sensecraft mutants were, of course, born from Sensecraft. More specifically, from the pure energy given off by Termini. As for where those Termini came from... well, Silvan had no idea. As far as they knew, they had existed for centuries, maybe even millennia. Maybe they had always been, rising up during the planet's formation. It was interesting to consider a time when humans had no such magic. And that's what Sensecraft really was, wasn't it? Magic. Its effects defied all logic, granting humans and Craftborn alike abilities they could never hope to achieve otherwise.

Maybe that's why Silvan was so drawn to it. They hadn't been Audiborn from birth, but their sister was, and the things she could do astounded them. Astounded her whole family, really. She was a prodigy, using her Craft to put on all sorts of performances both large and small. It was no surprise that the allure of greater power called to her once she joined Silvan at the circus. She'd gone her whole life up until that point dodging the worst of the mutations, thinking herself immune to greater consequences. But that's what everyone thought. Until one day, they were standing at the Terminus with their distorted bodies and finding themselves losing control of their minds, powerless to stop it. Everyone thought they were beyond that. That they'd know when it was time to stop.

Thankfully, full mutants were relatively rare these days. The laws preventing just anybody from reaching a certain mutation level kept the risk low. Anyone who went for a license had to sign half a dozen papers assuring that they were aware of the potential consequences. Silvan could understand why people would be so wary of their circus, given the nature of its performers, but they were giving everyone a safe place to live and be themselves.

Silvan realized their fists were clenched at the thought. "Goodness," they laughed. "I'm in such a gloomy mood today, aren't I?"

Aspect 3: Eight of Clubs

Right as Silvan was turning to leave, Abrella stood up and lumbered over to the glass where they were standing. "What is it, Abby?" they asked. "Do you need something?"

For a moment, she only stared into Silvan's eyes. They held her stare, hoping that somehow their intentions would reach... and Abrella suddenly bared her teeth, head hunching down in a warning snarl.

Silvan gave a sad smile. They weren't unaccustomed to this sort of display; everyone always said the mutants wouldn't recognize them, that there wasn't anything left behind those eyes but base animal instincts.

But then, as Silvan watched, Abrella's lips relaxed. She sniffed the air, long hare-like snout twitching. And... she closed her eyes, and then pressed her forehead to the glass.

A tear ran down Silvan's cheek. "Oh, Abby..." they said. "I promise, I'll never give up on you."

They stayed for a while longer, the two standing like that in silence until Abrella turned away with a snort and curled back up for another nap. Time to go.