nexus_sages | (no subject)

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James T. Kirk absolutely loves marketplaces.

It's not necessarily because he's looking for anything, per se, although he does often keep an eye out for interesting books to add to his collection, or maybe a bottle of some kind of exotic alcohol, or some kind of pointless alien gizmo with which to annoy Spock with its purposeless existence. No, he just loves the sheer diversity each bazaar brings to the table.

No two markets have ever been alike, in his experience. Sure, it's not quite as exciting and mysterious as exploring deep space, but it's something of a microcosm of the same, all sorts of goods and cultures thrown into close quarters, and one never knows what one might find just down the street.

His shipboard gold uniform may stand out a bit in the crowd as he meanders along, a faint smile on his face as he leans in to examine someone's wares on display, just enjoying being out and about in the fresh air.

[OOC: Retconning Jim eating bacon in this thread. Hadn't fully considered some of the elements in his backstory at the time.]

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Jim grins at Shade-Seeker and shrugs a little. "Our mission is exploration and learning all about other cultures and technology, so that does sound like it's up our alley. Can't promise that I'll understand it, but sure, why not?"

"To seek understanding is the highest of goals," Shade-Seeker intones. "In Mundus, magic is abundant, and all people possess some faint potential for its use which may be nurtured. In a realm bereft, I am uncertain whether the potential, or even the theory would be of use to you, but I would be pleased to discuss comparative realities, nonetheless."

"Me either, but I don't have anything more urgent to do. Why don't we take this someplace more comfortable? I'm sure there's a cafe or something around here somewhere." Jim doesn't necessarily recall seeing one, but this seems like the sort of place to find that sort of thing.

Of course, he has no idea if his 'fleet account is going to be any good for payment here, but you never know until you try.

"The Stellar Harp has been recommended to me," Shade-Seeker suggests. "It is not far."

Shade-Seeker makes a fair guide, setting a brisk but polite pace through the Nexus crowds to a busy sidewalk cafe seemingly staffed by satyrs, with the sign hanging overhead a wood carving of a harp with stars caught in its strings.

Jim, in turn, does a good job of keeping up, clearly an old hand at navigating crowds. Despite his unfamiliarity with magic, he doesn't stare at the satyrs, instead looking at them as if they were any other sentient race. "Nice. Kind of reminds me of this Andorian coffee shop in downtown San Fran."

"Andorian?" The word is close to a familiar one, so it piques Shade-Seeker's interest as he finds an open table to claim. Some of the chairs are even built to accommodate tails like his.

"Yeah, you know, blue humanoids, white hair, two antennae." He puts his index fingers up to his head in an approximate mime of the feature in question, even as he slides into his chair at the chosen table. "Four sexes, really militaristic, founding member of the Federation."

Shade-Seeker gives him a puzzled look, then shakes his head. "I have not yet met such people, either in the Empire or here." A brief pause leads him to the most natural question: "four sexes?"

The word 'Empire' gets his attention, but it's only polite to answer Shade-Seeker's question first. Besides, he can be subtle when he wants to be, and wait to perhaps gather more intel before drawing conclusions. And if his lizardy acquaintance here hasn't showed any signs of recognition of the Starfleet insignia on his uniform, it's hardly likely that Shade-Seeker is part of the Romulan or Klingon Empires.

"Yeah, four. Chans, thaans, zhens, and shens, if I remember right. I'm not a xenobiologist or a doctor so my experience has been more hands-on," he adds, waggling his eyebrows a little.

"Zeno-biologist?" Shade-Seeker attempts, grappling with the unfamiliar word. "That is not a word I know. Perhaps two words I do not know."

That gives him mild pause, because who doesn't know what biology is? But he supposes that maybe the study of magic has put scientific advancement on the back burner, for Shade-Seeker's folks. "Biology is the study of living organisms, subdivided into a hell of a lot of categories like anatomy and behavior, that sort of thing. Xeno's a prefix that used to mean alien, and it kind of still does, we just phrase it nicer and say it refers to non-humans instead."

"Ahh, Natural Philosophy, yes. We have that." He nods, pleased to recognize the topic after all. "I admit, my own studies focus more on alchemy than living organisms--apart from how the alchemy affects them, of course."

It is beyond weird to hear someone call biology philosophy, but he supposes that it could just be some kind of linguistic error that doesn't translate. Or an example of convergent linguistic evolution with false cognates. Either way, it's not worth debating who's right when they're probably both correct.

Besides... alchemy? "Like the 'turn lead into gold' kind of alchemy?"

Shade-Seeker gives a snort of derision. "Lead into gold is a metaphor, not a literal process. It describes the refinement of a simple mind into a learned one. True alchemy is the extraction of virtues from various plants, minerals and creatures, and the blending of those virtues to create useful potions. It is the foundation of my studies as a mage."

Jim looks amused now. "We call that chemistry. Or pharmacology, if it's medicinal." He imagines that probably sounds as weird to Shade-Seeker as 'biology' did. "Maybe it's a metaphor wherever you're from, but there were plenty of ancient Earth 'alchemists' who tried to actually make gold out of worthless junk. Never worked, obviously."

"Oh, there are plenty of would-be 'alchemists' who tried the same in my world," Shade-Seeker groans. "They would have been better served making actual potions. I myself have turned vegetables into gold, with the intermediate step of refining and selling them." With a tsk and a sigh, he shakes his head. "Chemistry. Mm. It is similar to alchemy, from what I understand. I would be interested to make a comparative study, should the opportunity arise."

"I could probably get you a textbook to study, if you want," Jim offers. "I've got access to practically the entire Federation's collective written works."

"Such an extensive library?" the lizard asks, perking up, visibly impressed. "I would be grateful for any writings you could lend me, thank you. I have, hm," he pauses to rummage through a pack he'd been carrying, "I have a few books on alchemy. This primer on the essential tools and fundamental practices might serve," he offers, digging out a small book that will probably seem an antique to anyone more accustomed to datapads--not the least for its weathered, slightly dog-eared state.

Fortunately for all involved, Jim adores actual paper books, and he touches the little volume with almost reverent hands. Its less-than-new state endears it all the more to him. "Well, hello, gorgeous," he says, carefully flipping it open, fingers mentally crossed that it's in script he can read.

And as he examines the book, he continues to speak. "The database is all digital, but reproducing physical copies should be pretty straightforward."

The book's interior might prove a little disappointing; while there are diagrams, it isn't written in English, and might not be in any language the Federation's universal translators have seen. Then again, the puzzle might only add to its allure. In any case, Shade-Seeker seems to approve of the demeanor of a fellow bibliophile.

"Digital? You write in numbers? Or--is this a matter of one of the magic glass tablets, which hold libraries and mustn't be dropped?"

Jim has to suppress a faint chuckle, imagining the look on Uhura's face if he was to ask her to translate the book for him, especially once she figures out what it is. Jim himself was the treasurer of the xenolinguistics club at the Academy, but his specialization lies elsewhere. "I might need a alchemy-to-english dictionary," he says instead with a small grin.

Oh, he can see how his words could be mistaken. "The second," he clarifies. "It saves a hell of a lot of storage space, and it's usually more convenient. That being said, when it comes to the pleasure of reading, you can't beat a real paper book."

"Ah. I have other books in Tamrielic," Shade-Seeker admits, "but none in your English."

"I have seen the little glass tablets. After hauling a satchel full of books from one end of the province to another, a glance is enough to persuade me of their convenience. But I agree, there is a certain pleasure in the weight of a familiar tome, the way it opens to just the page you seek, that you have sought so often before. The tablets are tools, and fine ones, but a book is a friend."

Tamrielic... well, putting a name to the script doesn't make it any easier to read, but it's nice to have a label for it. "Can you read English? I can get our literature in any language of the Federation, but I'm afraid Tamrielic isn't one of them." Still, he pages through the book, looking over the diagrams and appreciating the effort it took to write this much by hand. And in old-style ink, by the looks of it.

"Don't forget the smell," he adds, in absolute agreement of the tactile advantages of good ol' books. "I've got a crate of classics I inherited from my grandfather, and every time I crack one open, it's like it takes me back to being a kid again."

"I have a magic amulet--a different world's magic than my own--which gives me the languages I do not know," he answers, patting a little pendant. And yes, Jim, the book was written by hand, with ink that was ground and mixed and made by hand, on paper that was pulped and pressed and cut by hand (okay, they probably used a blade for the cutting). There are even tiny notes in the margins here and there in a different, tidy hand.

"The smell? I did not think humans noticed smell, so much," he admits. "But yes, every book has a story for the nose as well as the eyes."

"Well, that's handy." On the one hand, Jim is sure Uhura would love a trinket like that. On the other hand, she's studied her ass off to get where she is now, and she might not appreciate such an extreme shortcut rendering all that hard work moot.

"It's not one of our stronger senses," the captain agrees, "but it's actually pretty closely tied to memory recall in humans. Sometimes that's not a good thing, but we can't really help it."