Qualified spontaneous evaporation

Kingsland is not a particularly popular tourist destination. Most of the city's attractions are deadly to the unwary, if the transit system doesn't get you first. Sometimes, people do visit for diplomatic or academic reasons, but they're rarely the sightseeing type and they leave as soon as they're done. It's a rare breed that comes to our grave city to visit, but they do come sometimes. But if you ever find yourself afflicted by madness and decide to visit Kingsland, we do have some things worth an eyeful. There's our historic bridges across the river through the middle of the city (don't cross the middle one), a nice ice cream truck (assuming you catch it before the horrors chasing it do), and a park in Southside with a nice fountain (if you don't mind blood). I'd suggest getting a tour from a local friend, since the offices of the Kingsland Board of Tourism consist of a sign with "TURN BACK WHILE YOU CAN" written in an unidentifiable liquid.

If you're feeling stupid (we don't say "brave" here), you can go on a statuary tour, where you'll hear about qualified spontaneous evaporation. Every now and then in Kingsland, someone just evaporates. This isn't usually a remarkable occurrence. However, sometimes they only partially evaporate, like they were put on pause somehow, and the remains become fixtures as immovable as the ominous cubes. We haven't figured out what's behind it, and we're not interested. What we do instead is build pedestals underneath them and spray-paint them gray. This results in some pretty oddly placed statues, which makes the statuary tour interesting, if running for your life through the streets of Kingsland wasn't interesting enough. Some of them block roads, but you can usually drive on the walls to get around them. Be sure not to miss the statue of Yphydryx Shadowhand, the prophet of the Tesseraction, who began evaporating in the middle of being thrown off of a clock tower by his followers and subsequently froze in midair. The 20-meter pedestal up to his falling form is visible from almost any open area in Kingsland, providing a constant reminder to her citizens of the folly of hope.

QSE doesn't always hit one of us, though. Sometimes good things happen, and one of the many local horrors evaporates instead. (It's unwise to stop running to celebrate, since this usually gets one picked off by something else.) We actually managed to use a QSE-frozen squid-tree as a support to build a new bridge last year. This turned out to be less useful than expected, since the other squid-trees around it weren't so indisposed.