ꙮ One imagines, were Archie and the Awoken Prince to write a cookbook, that might be what they’d call it. Actually, the Awoken would probably come up with some completely wild-assed name for it with complete and utter earnestness in his heart. Maybe they’d compromise on a wild-assed subtitle? Anyways, it’s the kitchen of the Liminal Library, and Archie’s preparing for the Three Grand Soups.
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leads the way through the kitchen, newly familiar with its layout and design thanks to his recent tinkering with Luĉja here not long ago. “And here’s the oven, which also has a time dial. We’re not really sure how it works yet, but it’s certainly convenient.”
: “Wizardry is abound in these halls. So long as one does not try to nap in the FU or stick one’s head in the warmed oven, I trust it loves us and wants us to live!” He’s pulling on some thin, black leather gloves. They match his dark apron, which has a little violet moon insignia embroidered on one of its front pockets. He’s dressed lightly, billowy linen black pants and a long-sleeved, dark red tunic with a v-neck.
: “Honestly, with how hot it’s gotten on Beast sometimes, a nap in the FU doesn’t sound too bad, actually.” Archie has on a white-and-blue apron with buttons in the front, mimicking the design of the Academy’s standard laboratory wear - “the kitchen is just as much of a laboratory as a botanical field”, he remembers the de facto head of the culinary department arguing to anyone who would listen - which billows out and over sturdy white pants. They might not hide any spills or kitchen accidents, but they would certainly keep you safe from them. “How does this work? Is there anything I can help with, or is there a sequence that makes sense or would be helpful?”
: “It works beautifully!” On one of the tables lies three folded cloths (they seem like they’d be no larger than a square meter unfolded), a few empty gravy bowls, a ladle or three. “And also through the application of liminal gnosis, equal mass transferrance, the impossibility behind a curtain, and a bit of the ol’ sleight-of-hand.”
: “Have you the name of ingredients in mind? How about the smell, the texture, the shimmer?”
closes his eyes, his eyes rolling upwards in imagination and concentration, his brows furrowing unevenly. “Equal mass transference, interesting… so there needs to be some kind of consistency, you can’t just take something. I wonder if that implies a consistency of mass on each world? Given the sheer biomass of Almachadta that would be surprising, but we still don’t know for sure how big a dream-whale is, much less how much mass it has…” He trails off a moment, lost in thought, thinking about how this might work, and then opens his eyes back up with a shake. “All in mind and considered. I’m glad Luĉja and I spent some time here earlier, if I had come in blind it would have been much harder. I’ve brought a few things I’d like to leave with the people of each of the other worlds as we make the exchanges. I didn’t know mass would matter, so we might need to bulk up some of them, but I wanted it to be an equal exchange of worth in some way or another.”
: “It can be a straight pilfer, but it’s a shade easier with something as a guide. Like putting your hand in a bowl full of bellgrapes while blindfolded, and being convinced it’s a bowl full of eyeballs!”
: “Which, by the way, the base for the shark-fin soup was delictable as it was! Great job with it!” He gives Archie a thumbs up and a wink!
: “I am mighty curious on how you end up raising the mountain of triumph even further!”
ꙮ As they say, please look forward to it.
grins broadly. “I’m glad you enjoyed it! Hopefully it’s just as popular with the locals.” He looks upward. “I wish I could think of a way to share it with you, too. Though I suppose you experience it by describing it? If I think about it really hard, does that do anything?”
ꙮ Would that I had a tongue to taste these delicacies, but no matter what else, I have the capacity to observe. So, share with me these delights towards which you reach!
smiles. “I think we can do that! Also, I’ve been meaning to ask you - is there anything I can call you other than NIP? The more time we’ve spent together, the more I’ve gotten to like you, and the stranger and worse it’s felt to refer to you by a moniker that includes ‘nothing’. Tongue-in-cheek though it may be, of course.”
: “(Just don’t call them late for dinner!)”
ꙮ Honestly, it’s kind of endearing? Salme’s taken to calling me silmät, so there’s that, too. I don’t know. It feels good to have names, though. Especially those that were gifts.
nods and smiles. “That makes me feel better. I’m glad you know your presence here is valued.” He turns back to the Prince. “So! Shopping list. Shall we go world by world?”
dusts off his gloved hands (not that they had any dust on them). “Chef’s choice! And also: animal, vegetable, or mineral?”
: “A bit of a mix. Vegetables only from Almachadta, but animal and vegetable from Samudra, and ideally processed animal products from both - cheese from Almachadta and fish sauce from Samudra. Do you think that last bit would cause any problems? I don’t remember whether it was Almachadtan, Beast, or Samudran cheese at the burger party.”
: “Couldn’t imagine a reason why it would. And if it did, it’d be a mysterious, taste-testable problem!”
: “It was a mix of cheeses… Almachadtan, and… provolone from a place I can’t quite place!”
grins. “My favorite kind of problem to have is no problem, but mysterious and taste-testable problems are a close second! Is there anything we need to set up? Let me get out the things I wanted to leave for the others.”
: “Ready your presents, and I’ll ready the doors.” He partly unfolds the cloths- a dark hunter green, a soft-churned blue, a burnt red.
grabs his regular coat from where it’s hanging and fishes around in the pockets for a few moments, eventually pulling out a small handful of individually and delicately wrapped parcels, each with an accompanying note. He brings them back to the table, carefully setting down the stack.
: “Let’s go dish-by-dish. We’re making a type of dumpling to represent each world we’ve visited so far. From Almachadta, we’ll need a variety of edible mushrooms and some local soft cheese. Let’s start with the mushrooms? I think I saw some growing near Tsen’s place, so I got this for him. Honestly, I wasn’t really sure what a Spoken Wood would like, but I know he’s very curious and loves to experiment, so I got him an enchanted object from the marketplace for him to study the gnosis and sigils on. It’s a simple warming stone, it should be safe enough. The letter is just to let him know we found Tasna, that we appreciate his contribution to the delicious cause, and that I hope to make more great discoveries together soon.”
claps his hands delightedly. “Ohh, he’ll love both the gifts, and the surprise!” He carefully lifts the warming stone, holding the letter in place with a thumb, and smoothly places the both of them under the green cloth. One hand holding it slightly aloft, and the other underneath…
: “Something curious, something experimental, something with the comfort of resolution.” A faint shuffling could be heard from underneath the cloth. “From the ground it sprouts, and…”
whisks the cloth away! “-onto the table it goes!”
looks on closely with curious excitement.
ꙮ Several handfuls of little mushrooms that grow in the outskirts of the Tangle. The Centrelight shines, and gives life to things which, in turn, give their life to the mushrooms; mycelia webbing through the ground like a kind of root or rhizome, a pattern recapitulated and discovered by life, over and over: and then its fruit, savory and brown, wearing shiny little fashionable mushroom-hats. They’re going to be perfect.
laughs in surprise, reaching over to grab a conveniently-placed bowl to place the mushrooms.
looks delighted and shocked. “I knew it would work, since you did it before, but it’s impressive to see in person! How did you learn you could do that? Or is it more of a thing where you never thought you couldn’t, so when you decided to, you just did?”
: “Y’know…” He strums his fingers on the table. “The first time I actually tried it, it was on Samudra.”
: “A relatively recent discovery, then, much like your royal title. Have you gotten any insight about who or what you’re Prince of?”
ꙮ There are just… so many bowls around. One of them is definitely several-handfuls-of-little-mushroom-sized.
: “Scholar-Professor Xie actually gave me the idea, after we’d explained the concept of liminal gnosis. (They picked up on it right quick, once they knew!) And then, I reached into my pocket, and… ‘found’ several Kushtaka mint-drops!”
: “As for the princely title… that one’s become more interesting!”
: “According to Dusky– Duškomira, there’s no such monarchy of sorts on Valais?”
: “But it’s not like [Libra] to lie- or if it did, it’d be a really hackeneyed version of ‘The Truth.’”
: “It’s even Glory themed! What can we trust if not them?”
subconsciously swishes his tail joyfully a little, thinking about mint-drops, before thinking over the revelation. “I’m inclined to trust Libra, too, for the same reasons. There may not be a royal family over all of Valaïs, but maybe there’s a sect, or it could be a title of some kind? Are we absolutely certain you’re from Valaïs in the first place? Maybe there’s a historical royal family you’re the rightful heir to, even if the monarchy no longer exists?”
: “So… a traveller-prince? What confers princely status? Is it a kingdom, or a presence? Do subjects factor at all, or is it judgment and control over their demesne?”
gives a half-shrug to Archie. “Dusky’s also claimed that I seem familiar somehow, like she’s seen someone ‘of my clan?’ I’m assuming family? We’ve seen people of similar skin affect, in Sanctuary. Who knows what that means!” He throws the half-shrug into a full shrug with a smile.
ꙮ They’re all excellent questions!
: “Surely, the answers are out there. Keep eyes peeled, ears open, and boom out your voice should you have any ideas!”
shrugs back. “Seems like we have endless theories and no way to test them just yet. We’ll get to Valaïs soon enough and hopefully find some answers. For now, can we do the cheese? I think I remember Badri mentioning having connections to a few cheesemakers thanks to his time as Sword-Saint. We’re looking for something soft, rich, and good for melting, but with enough structure to be cut up and put in a dumpling without falling apart. A young cheese, most likely. As a man who appreciates the hunt, I’ve prepared a glass-land-shark tooth for him, with a letter recounting the tale and the hope I’ll get to share a few more with him over a round or several of drinks next time we’re around.”
: “Ahh, one of the trophies of the hunt.” He lifts the tooth and letter. “What is it that you think they hunt besides us? Smaller creatures? Or would they work as a group, felling gargantuan beasts? They certainly run in a gigantic pack.”
: “I’m not sure if they would naturally have chosen to be in a pack on their own or if their communal nature was more because they’re being kept. I’d imagine they’re relatively high up the food chain?”
: “They must be! I question how long the beastial food chain would last on Almachadta against them!” He slips the items under the green cloth.
: “It would definitely be a spectacle.”
: “Glass in appearance, but no less sharp than any ancient beast. How they must tear through the soft hides of all lesser beings. Soft, tangy, acidified, coagulated, and separated… were there only a beast that made its own cheese. Or one made out of cheese.”
ꙮ Speaking of spectacles… Observe the Awoken Prince as he performs his next magic trick!
: “If one doesn’t exist, we must make it–!” He removes the cloth!
observes closely, spectacles on, flicking the lenses furiously.
ꙮ You watch the world’s skin wrinkle and twist unto a vanishing point, focused on– or, rather, under, the cloth. A space which is here and also there, at the same time, briefly overlaid on top of each other, containing the potential for both at once- and then the coin falls, and the glass-shark tooth and letter are on the other side, the world un-twists. When the Awoken removes the cloth, there’s a big wheel of cheese underneath it, with a thick reddish rind covered in white powder. Once you cut into it, it’s smooth, almost soft, with tiny little eyes - that’s what cheesemakers call the holes in cheese that has holes in it, eyes - all through the inside of it. It’ll melt spectacularly well.
: “Mmm… think I’ll have a little taste right now!” He nicks off an edge, and pops it into his mouth- not chewing, but letting it melt.
joins him, enjoying the experience, imagining how the flavors will match. “I couldn’t have picked it better myself.”
: “Do you remember anything of the food on Valaïs? I meant to ask Dusk about it but I forgot in the moment. Hopefully we gave her a linkpearl.”
: “I’m sure Badri will look forward to your recanting of the Hunt, as well!”
: “Hmm…” He looks up and to the right.
waits a few moments…
: “Nope! Nothing.”
: “If we were really desperate we’d get into a Rite and hit me with [Sorrowful Memory] over and over until I came across a time I ordered something and it was all wrong?”
: “But maybe that’s the wrong angle to approach from.”
nods. “As someone who’s voluntarily hit themselves with that one on several occasions, it’s… not something I’d do to a friend, let’s just say it like that.”
: “Yeah, I’ll bypass all the suffering and find out on the road ahead.”
: “Seems like the better plan to me. Okay, that should be all we need from Almachadta, so now it’s Samudra next. Let’s start with the soup greens. The botany department keeps an area reserved for hydroponics to be delivered to the culinary researchers. What we need will be there - leafy greens created to remain crunchy even after being boiled for prolonged periods, making them ideal for soups and stews. I don’t actually know anyone in that department, but I felt compelled to express my gratitude somehow, so I’m giving them a sample of cilantro from Beast. The letter instructs them on safety and procedure - we’ve confirmed non-toxicity to people but not wildlife, invasiveness not assessed, grow by cloning and in a separate hydroponic bed, deliver to the culinary labs when mature. I might have also slipped in that the culinarians should make the Acting Academician a meal with it, and when they do, to send regards from the Scholar-Archivist, who is well.”
: “Theory, hypothesis, procedure, all prepared! You’d know well how best to transfer this knowledge and multiply it through the collaboration of colleagues.” He grasps the cilantro and letter, hiding it under the blue cloth. “And further multiplied by the love across worlds.”
: “And with the ingredients already prepared on the other side, it should be an easy trick to find and replace them, wildly throwing off any records of growing patterns, but it’ll give them something else to (rotate) instead!”
: “A pick of this, a pluck of another, a pilfur of a third, and through the worlds it goes–!”
: “Ooh, still slightly damp!” He removes the cloth!
ꙮ One kind of greens, swapped out for another - the world twists, again, is a tunnel, briefly, in a direction unmapped and un-nameable; now that you’ve seen it, you barely even need the spectacles to notice it happening. The Awoken Prince reaches under the cloth, and– (it’s kind of funny, to see the cloth puff up, because the leafy greens take up much more space than a couple bundles of cilantro and packets of seeds. It seems like transference of worth, or perhaps novelty…? Does do the trick.)
ꙮ The greens are– well, actually a little purple around the very edges of the leaves, remarkably ruffly, and like the Beast itself, they bite back - you could flick one and it’d spring right back into shape, unboiled they crunch if you chomp on one. Their taste is delicate, present but inobtrusive.
looks astonished at the sheer volume of greens produced. “More than enough! I’m sure Luĉja will love having extra when we hit the road again, he does love making stews.”
: “His stews have always been supple and delicious, despite his warnings about Endjinn cooking.”
: “He really does sell himself short, sometimes. He did an amazing job in the kitchen testing the recipe initally, it wouldn’t be half as good without him. It’s clear how much he likes taking care of others, especially knowing what he told me about Endjinn having a limited sense of taste.”
: “He’s had a lot of practice and has, more importantly, taken in the perspectives of others. Perceptive, and empathic! He really is amazing!”
: “You’re pretty perceptive and empathetic, too, to have picked up those things about him! I’m a little ashamed of how worried I was about you when we first got to Samudra. You read the room a lot better than I gave you credit for back then.”
laughs! “It wouldn’t do to destroy the world we’re there to save with careless, baseless conjecture! Once we got those bases and a lil’ bit of care, then that’s when the radicalness began.”
: “Well, care and help tactically sequestering all of it off. Still, I think the world took to all the new phenomonea very well, in the end.”
: “In the end,” Archie says, nodding. “Which takes us to the end of our interdimensional shopping trip, as it happens. A little stop by home, to my aunt’s personal garden and FU back at Ripple. I found a small string instrument at the market I think she’ll like the sound of. The letter… that one’s just for her, I think.”
: “Hmm… anything particular to nab in mind? Or dealer’s choice?”
: “Or just a drop off?”
: “Her garden will have peppers in it, and the FU should have am earthenware jar full of her homemade fish sauce. We shouldn’t take too much, but we can have a solid bit of each and I don’t think she’ll mind.”
ꙮ Oh, there’ll be bunches of jars. A jar could go missing, and, well, it wouldn’t be missing, because the letter would tell her where it’d gone.
: “That’ll be a big one, for sure.” He completely unfolds the blue cloth, as the morin khuur will require ample space. The letter is safely sequestered in the strings. He also sneaks an empty jar under there as well- take one, leave one!
maneuvers both hands under the cloth, slightly flipping his wrists to edge it back over all extant protruding ends…
: “I do wonder if this would be a way to liminally play a song… to strum it as it passes through.”
: “Sounds like the kind of thing I’d like to try, sometime.”
: “Then, let us play.”
projects the music out, from his instrument, his voice, his being, willing it to be heard, an extra little piece of himself to send home to the Clan.
arms move, and the cloth slowly flattens, a song reaching across the worlds. Its sharp notes dance through a hole in reality, a vocal accompaniment played in echo from the Song itself, announcing its place in everything. His hands cup- unseen, but asking. Gently, he pulls from the world.
ꙮ And then the world twists again, around the Awoken’s hand – and he feels, briefly, the brush against his gloved hand of another. For just a brief moment.
ꙮ Whatever’s under the cloth now isn’t much smaller than the morin khuur was.
: “Ah…”
: “Something expected has unexpectedly happened.”
looks at him quizzically.
lifts both arms, and the cloth, from the table, revealing…
ꙮ It’s a large black-lacquered basket, into which the jar of fish sauce and the Samudran peppers have been lovingly nestled, along with several bottles of a deep but remarkably clear red liquid, and several small glass vials. In each vial are a couple of things that look a little like glowing threads - if you look closer, they’re clearly the stigmas and styles of some kind of flower. They’re white, and they shimmer with a subtle, almost imperceptible auroral light. There’s also a little coin, nestled in between two of the bottles, and a note that, once again, in impeccable calligraphy, says “Enjoy!”
: “Oh ho…!”
: “A gift from a visitor beyond!”
peers at the vials in interest, inspscting their contents, spectacles back on and flickering through lenses. “A welcome surprise as ever! I only wish we knew who to thank, and how.”
: “Perhaps we’ll meet them on our journeys, too. Or maybe they’re gifts from an appreciative audience!”
lifts one of the bottles of red liquid, inspecting it closely.
ꙮ The contents of the vials seem perfectly natural - all living things resonate with gnosis, but whatever plant these were taken from resonates with more. The bottles are unmarked, unlabelled - a rich, vivid, clear red. The bottles themselves are clear, so whatever’s inside must, you assume, be unmarred by exposure to light. They’re stopped with corks that don’t quite look natural - the right color for cork, but not the bark of any cork tree you can imagine, smooth and featureless.
eyes shift from the bottle, to Archie, back to the bottle, and back to Archie.
: “The perfect beverage accompaniment to an upcoming meal?”
ꙮ There’s more than enough that you could probably open a bottle and pour two small glasses to see how it pairs!
: “Could be! It seems safe to assume there’s some kind of culinary application. Shall we give it a taste?”
: “We shall!” He shuffles through a drawer– or expects to shuffle, but no, this is a mystical Everything Is In Its Place And Also It’s Not Annoying To Get To drawer, and so a corkscrew is easily found and retrieved.
ꙮ Miraculously, the corkscrew is exactly where the fuck you expect it to be, which is how you know this kitchen is truly magical. There’s little glasses, too.
ꙮ When you pour, and take a sip… it tastes like whatever would be the most delicious, refreshing thing it could taste like, for each of you. You probably won’t agree on the flavour, other than that it was profoundly agreeable; for me– well. I don’t have the mouth to drink and taste it with, but if I did, I think it’d be a wine much sweeter than is fashionable, with bright fruit notes– cherry and the vivid recollection of eccentric, nearly black fox-grapes.
sips, eyes closed and brimming with nostalgia. “I think this was probably meant for the contest, but honestly, I’m tempted to keep it as a treat for ourselves to share with the others. What do you think?”*
ꙮ There’s enough. Somehow, there’s enough, that you could do both. It’s a big basket.
beams in relieved delight. “Excellent.”
tastes… it’s familiar. It’s minty. The fresh cut gives way to a cinnamon warmth. For a moment, he feels each pore on his body.
: “Most excellent.”
raises a glass. “To new tastes, to new worlds, to new comrades.”
ꙮ As for the contents of the glass vials… well. You could open one and give it a lil’ snoofle.
does so, unable to contain his curiosity.
ꙮ It smells, and will taste, like something completely new to you, something you’ve never experienced before, or ever imagined. In a good way - not, like, ‘think of something completely horrible you’d never eat’ - it just smells vividly novel, the kind of novel spice that opens up an entirely new dimension in your mind of your perception of taste-space.
is sent pleasantly reeling, his mind rapidly reconfiguring its ideas of flavor. “That’s… certainly something special.”
: “Now I gotta smell this–“ And he does, getting a waft of it.
ꙮ It’s something wildly and completely new to you, too! ⁂
ꙮ …it’s nice, isn’t it? 🙧
: “It’s…”
: “…yeah, it’s really nice.” He’s smiling, and stumbles back into a high stool, mindlessly sitting on it.
watches and allows him to enjoy his moment of bliss.
sniffs, and reaches for his glass, and raises it in another toast. “To novel experiences!” He takes a drink, wiping the side of his eye with his shirt.
drinks to that.