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Planet Designation: Agrestic Status: Terrestrial, Q-class. Non-sentient life: Extensive agricultural flora and livestock. Natural habitats have been entirely eliminated Semi-Sentient Life: None. Sentient Life: Population 18 billion. Variety of races due to history of heavy immigration from neighboring universes. Dominant race Kanil, although representatives claim no species-based discrimination exists on planet. Water: 80% of the planet's surface. Climate: Varied. Current location is warm and moderately humid, average temperature 60 degrees Farenheit. Regular rain seasons. Landscape: Mountains, plains and oceans. No deserts. All terrain has been terraformed for maximum productivity. Air: Type I (breathable) Sky: Red. Warnings: Daligig not permitted within Agrestican territory. Mission: Shore leave and refueling.

As Stacy's shuttles bring the crew down, they're treated to the sights of massive mountains to dwarf even the mightiest Earth mountain range and golden, green and purple grain fields that take up more space than some entire civilizations have managed to colonize. The shuttles finally settle at the primary port city, Rura, which is ideally situated near and equidistant to a sprawling ocean, the base of a mountain range and a swath of farmland.

The people of Agrestic, including humans, Helians, Kanil, and plenty of other races, are for the most part hard at work and rushing from place to place. Very few pay much attention to Stacy's shuttles, as travelers stopping at this city and incredibly commonplace. Those that aren't working are relaxing, unencumbered by technological gadgets - while the technology here is very advanced, it seems primarily used to aid workers in their duties, and not for leisure. Fresh produce brought into the market is scanned by tiny mechanical beetles that inspect each piece for defects, but the children are more likely to be playing with sticks and rocks than anything else.

The crew exits the shuttles to find themselves at a large air-port like building, which opens up to a farmer's market and a strip of restaurants. As they exit the shuttles, some of the human port workers apologize for any inconvenience.

"We're sorry you couldn't bring the whole ship down, but the Truce specifically forbids Daligig to enter our airspace. You're lucky we managed to get clearance for shuttles of Daligig make to come in!" they say, before rushing off to help the next arrivals.

To return to the ship, a crew member may enter a shuttle and the autopilot will zip them back up to Stacy's underbelly. The crew may make as many trips back and forth as they like.

[OOC: This post itself will be for interactions with NPCs. Please do not set up subthreads in this post unless you are an NPCer. If you would like to create a new location on Agrestic, or do an open/closed log on the shore leave, please set up your own log. This will make it easier for our NPCers to know where they're needed.]

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The recipe fiction is, in fact, long purple-prosey descriptions of fantastic meals the authors have eaten. Not to be confused with 'fiction by recipe', which are a strange genre of books by number that are designed to, despite the different stories, be so similar in content as to be interchangeable.

Basil walks over on his hind legs. His tail sticks up in the air and twists just at the very tip into a little hook. He carries a platter of beef strips in a warm, buttery sauce, wrapped in fried dough. He sets it down on the table to the side of Ranulf's chair.

"Do you mind if I nuzzle? You smell of fellow cat and I find hand-shaking so impersonal." He has at least learned to ask about boundaries first.

There was nothing quite like a book full of descriptions of meals to remind him of why he'd come here in the first place... and cue the mouth-watering scent of approaching food. And... an approaching cat?

Ranulf glanced up with a start--and up even further, craning his neck back. This guy was even taller than a lion! But he was, most definitely, a cat. Not a laguz, but still a pleasant and welcome surprise in an unfamiliar place. Ranulf couldn't help but smile at him as soon as the initial second of shock wore off, and the smile turned into an easy chuckle at the other's question.

It wasn't something his people normally engaged in, not in this form... but in beast form, it came more naturally. Ranulf set the book down on the table, next to the food. "Hey, why not?" he said with a grin and a slight shrug. "Hang on."

As he spoke those words, a blue glow enveloped him and his body began to change shape. He wasn't so concerned with startling or frightening people when he shifted anymore, seeing as most everyone he'd met since waking up on the ship had encountered plenty of other non-beorc species with varying powers and abilities. He was nothing terribly fear-inducing to them. A moment later, a panther-sized blue cat sat on the lounge chair grinning up at Basil, his tail wrapping neatly around his paws.

"There. Now I'm better suited to it, right?"

"What a marvelous coat you have. Such fine color." Basil nuzzles against Ranulf's neck and sniffs him in the way friendly cats typically do. "I wonder if our races share a common ancestor, somewhere down the line."

Basil doesn't even seem fazed by the transformation. He's seen many stranger things here on the planet - given the sheer variety of life forms on Agrestic, he's seen shapeshifting in a variety of different ways a few times in the past.

He sits back and takes a seat across from Ranulf, feet up on the chair, and picks up one of the little pigs-in-a-blanket concoctions. "You should help yourself to some of our samples, as well. Our chefs always make a little extra, as a gift to our customers."

Ranulf returned the nuzzle, as well as the compliment. "Ah, thanks! Yours is pretty impressive too, you know! I don't think I've ever seen colouring like that before." And that was certainly saying something; cats came in pretty much every colour of the rainbow where he was from. "My name's Ranulf, by the way," he added.

As far as sharing a common ancestor, though, he wasn't so sure. The goddess Yune had said that the laguz and beorc had evolved on Tellius, and their civilization was a long, long way off from being able to expand to other worlds... but then again, he'd since met plenty of beorc who were from other worlds and who'd never even heard of Tellius. Maybe there were laguz on some of these worlds, as well, and Basil was related to them?

It took Ranulf only a moment to sort that thought out in his mind, and he grinned again. "I like that idea," he said with a nod.

He shifted back to his usual form once Basil sat down, and given the go-ahead, eagerly reached for one of the food samples. "Yeah? Be sure to thank the chefs for me, then!" Taking a bite, his eyes slowly closed in delight as his grin spread wider. "Mmmm... every bit as good as they smell. It's so nice to actually eat some real food again!" He took another bite, chewing slowly, savouring it.

"Really? All my race has this color fur. It came to me as quite a shock that other felines could be another color." He sits back down at a chair near Ranulf and purrs. "A wonderful name. Mine's Basil."

Basil looks pleased at punch at the compliment. "Real food? You aren't stuck eating astronaut rations, are you?"

"Pleased to meet you, Basil!" Ranulf popped the last remaining bite of his morsel of food into his mouth, chewing and swallowing before licking his lips and responding.

"Astronaut rations?" He tilted his head slightly to one side. "I'm afraid I don't know what an 'astronaut' is, let alone what their rations are like. If they're anything like what I've been stuck with on that ship, though..." He scrunched up his face, sticking his tongue out in a grimace. "It's food, but that's the nicest thing I can say about it. It looks like someone's already chewed it up and spit it back out, and it doesn't taste much better!"

He shrugged one shoulder. "But, well, it could be a lot worse. There are these rooms that... I'm actually not sure what they do, but they can make you think that the food is whatever you want it to be. Seems like almost everyone eats there," he added with a dry chuckle. "It still doesn't compare to the real thing though, you know?"

Basil flattens his ears at the description. "That sounds absolutely horrid. You wouldn't happen to be from that Daligig ship in orbit, would you?"

He's never been a fan of holographic fantasy, much preferring his imagination and books. Not to mention, the idea of any self-respecting cat being made to feed on unsatisfying food sends a chill up his spine from the tip of his tail. Monstrous!

Ranulf couldn't help but smile a bit at Basil's reaction to his description of the slop. It was always nice to have a sympathetic ear to talk to, and here was someone who clearly appreciated the value of good food. Yes, they understood each other.

"Yeah, that's the one," he answered. "I heard that this world doesn't allow Daligig... I've got to say, I'm glad you still let the rest of us stop off here. It's nice to get out for awhile... heh, and 'nice' is an understatement." He leaned forward a bit, curiosity clearly evident in his expression. "So can I ask how they managed to get themselves banned like that? It seems like it'd be a pretty big deal to be kept off of an entire planet."

The tip of Basil's tail twitches, not in irritation at Ranulf but at the ether, as if it holds all the Daligig he is annoyed with.

"We in the GIA have come to chafe under the way the Daligig treat their allies. And at their complete lack of work ethic. They're always taking the easy way out of doing anything, whether that's sending us to die for them or genetically engineering themselves."

Ranulf hmmm-ed softly. "So they treat everyone like that?" He sat back again, looking thoughtful. "You know, I haven't been on that ship for very long--not awake, anyway--and I haven't actually met any Daligig yet. But... well, I haven't heard anything good." Or seen anything good, for that matter; he remembered Sakura and Barbara's projection in the Sensoriums all too clearly. "I definitely get the impression that we're merely their pawns in this war. It's not just us then, huh?"

His eyebrows furrowed slightly in puzzlement then, his tail twitching as if in mimicry of Basil's. "...What's 'genetically engineering' mean?"

"What have you heard?" Basil licks his arm with his scratchy tongue. "And no, its not just you. To the Daligig, everyone is merely a pawn."

Basil's tail lashes a bit more. "It means to go into the very essence of a biological creature and tamper. It's a practice we outlaw here."

"Not much in the way of specifics, to be honest," Ranulf admitted, "but no one I've talked to who's been on-board for awhile seems willing to trust them any further than they could throw them, and well... it feels like there's a lot of suspicion directed at them." He frowned. "If the rest of the crew's anything like me, I imagine they're wondering if... if the Daligig are just feeding us lies to get us to do their dirty work." It wasn't something Ranulf liked to even consider--he wanted badly to believe that Tellius, that everyone's homes, could be saved. But ignoring the possibility that they were being misled wouldn't make it any less possible.

"Tamper..." He wasn't sure he understood. "So they... change what they are? Why would they want to do something like that?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. That's what they did to us, after all. We Agresticans." Basil keeps licking. "They like to give themselves unnatural advantages because they can. It's cheating."

"They did?" Ranulf looked up at Basil intently. That bit of information was... less than reassuring, to put it lightly. To have it confirmed by an outside source that he had every reason to be suspicious... no, not reassuring at all. Quite concerning, rather. Slumping slightly, he ran a hand through his hair with a loud sigh. "Ugh, well that's just great. Stuck on a ship with these guys..."

Of course, the important question now was what to do about it. "So how'd you Agresticans get them to agree to leave you alone?" Ranulf asked after a moment's consideration, leaning forward once again in interest. He managed a hint of a sly grin. "Any tips?"

Basil twitches his whiskers. "It wasn't easy. We had to threaten to cease dealing with them or with the GIA, which would be a massive loss not only to our economy but also to the economies of all the nations we trade with. And to the Daligig. They relented only because they saw the cost of losing us to be too high."

He puffs up his ruff a bit. "Do you have anything that they need? They seem capable of negotiating if you coerce them, but not for anything less."

"Anything that they need... hmm." Ranulf scratched his cheek as he considered. "Well, manpower. We've got plenty of that, and it seems to be what they want us around for. It's kind of a tricky thing to withhold though, you know?"

He furrowed his brows. "See, from what I can tell, they're the ones in control of the ship. So if they decide to take us into battle against those Ohm, well, of course we're going to fight. For our own lives much more than for their sake, but the outcome's the same, so our motivations probably don't make that much difference to them. They still get us fighting their enemies for them."

"You could try to go on military strike, tell you them won't fight, but I imagine that'd backfire horribly." Basil gives a disgruntled mew. He hates to see a fellow cat in such a nasty situation. He grab a pen and a bookmark from a nearby table. "I could write down a coordinate for an ally planet that may help."

Ranulf nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure refusing to fight would just make us easy prey for whatever they send us up against. Even if we don't want to go along with the Daligig, we don't exactly want to lie down and die, either." He gave Basil a wry grin. "Agrestic's got the right idea, but I guess it might not carry over to the ship too well. Unfortunately."

He brightened visibly at Basil's offer, ears perking up in interest. "Really? Hey, thanks a lot--you can never have too many allies!"

Basil writes down a few coordinates for Ranulf and passes the bookmark over, then excuses himself. "I must tend to my restaurant. Good hunting to you."

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