May Catch-All

[rutility]

Characters: Rutile + You!
Date: Starting yesterday and continuing through May!
Location: The Dreaming Bridge, Breakwater Wing, and adjacent areas
Situation: Arriving in Aifaran, new accommodations, Faith 4, and maybe more
Warnings/Rating: None, totally PG. You could let your kid cousin read this stuff.



A ▸ NEW ARRIVAL | open

[ First moments in Aifaran. ]

A couple of blocks away from the Dreaming Bridge is a scene of semi-controlled chaos: a couple of Verdant Sentries and well-meaning passersby try to assist the newest Dreamfolk, who seems determined to ignore placating words. If you would just go to the Dreaming Bridge like everyone else, the natives say; if you would just comply with protocol, all your questions would be answered -

"Don't patronize me!" the Dreamfolk snaps in one of the sentry's faces, audible across the street. From here their hair, glimmering gold and crimson in the sun, hangs wild about their face, and their lab coat is dirty and disheveled. Fortunately, Rutile doesn't seem dangerous: they carry no weapons, and they're actually on the smaller side of your average human. They just seem pissed.

The second sentry reaches in to separate the two of them and Rutile knocks their hand away. "Get away from me!" they hiss, "I don't need an escort!" The sentries seem unconvinced.

Scratch that about the danger: the situation isn't looking good.

B ▸ BUTTERFLY BLESSINGS | open

[ Arriving in Breakwater # 03, Faith 4 ]

The room is sparsely furnished, but still more than Rutile is used to: three beds, as many tables, a shelf with books with names such as Baby's First Spiritual Experience with Tu Vishan and Slime Molds of Konryu: A Field Guide.

None of the beds seem mussed or even occupied, despite the twilight fading fast, so Rutile approaches the one closest to the open window and kneels carefully on the mattress. Despite its flimsiness - it's certainly not quartz - it holds their weight. Rutile curls up on one end and tentatively leans their head against the wall, letting their gaze fall across the courtyard below.

Rutile is on the verge of falling asleep - from lack of sunlight, from an emotional hangover - when a tiny mottled butterfly alights on the windowsill. Moments later, more have arrived, fluttering their wings as they land on the sill, the shutters, and even Rutile. They're reminded of someone else they've seen this happen to - a memory that makes them scowl. Rutile reaches out a finger for one of the tiny butterflies to land on.

"You're in the wrong place, little things," Rutile mutters. "I'm not the one you're looking for."

C ▸ WILDCARD | open

[ Not feeling any of the above? Let me know on plurk and I'll see what I can do! Alternatively, just go off. Let me have it. We'll make it work. ]

Comments

A!

[bestofthevein]

It isn't looking good, no--but as a general rule, situations that don't look good tend draw Kit in like moths to a flame.

He's hovering just on the outskirts of the confrontation, smoking a cigarette while his eyes shift between the Verdant Sentries (with whom Kit does not have the most sterling of reputations) and the latest of the Dreamfolk, who seems less than enthralled to be here in Aifaran. It's the latter whom he regards more closely; there's something about them--

It's the way the light catches their hair that ultimately makes the connection for him: Padparadscha. That's who this one reminds him of.

"Hey," he calls out, his tone markedly more friendly than the patronizing one adopted by the Sentries. They give him a dubious look, but since he's been on his 'best behaviour' over the last month, they don't accost him as he approaches. Kit gives them a neutral glance, before looking back to the newcomer and greeting them with a lopsided smile; as a dwarf, he at least looks passably nearer to Rutile in appearance than some of the Sentries do. "This place'll throw you for a loop, won't it?" And, with a small and sincere wrinkle between his brows: "You all right?"

[rutility]

You all right? is not an interesting question. Rutile is quite clearly not all right no matter how you swing it: their gaze snaps from the sentries to Kit with inhuman ferocity; clutched in their raised hand is a small, but sharp-looking chisel. For a long moment they stare. Rutile's not inclined to be friendly in this environment filled with people trying to stand in their way, and especially not when they'd exhausted the last dregs of their patience long ago.

That said, they're given pause by his approach. Internally, Rutile runs down a quick risk-assessment checklist. The markings on his face are curious, almost as curious as the solemnity that wrinkles them. His tone is friendly but sincere, and he doesn't get too close. He asks a question rather than issuing a command.

The moment is just enough for Rutile to recover some of their senses. They cast a last wary glare at one of the sentries before giving them a cold shoulder and adjusting their lab coat, chisel still held loosely in one hand.

"I would be better if I wasn't being treated like a delinquent," Rutile curtly informs him.

[bestofthevein]

"I would be better if I wasn't being treated like a delinquent."

Yeah, Kit decides, he likes this one.

"They think everyone's a delinquent. Makes them feel important, maybe. I don't know," he adds, and turns an annoyed look towards the Verdant Sentries themselves, who look between them as though this is all far more than any of them had signed up for when they agreed to join the force. Kit keeps eyeing them, then juts his chin towards a line of parked vehicles on one of the nearby roads. "What, you guys get bored of writing parking tickets or something? This is such a joke; go find someone else to hassle."

One of the Verdant Sentries looks on the cusp of puffing himself up to his full height, intent on citing some by-law or another, but Kit has already turned his back on him to face Rutile instead. "I won't claim to be an expert," he says flatly, "but if you've got questions about something, I can probably answer them." He extends out a hand. "I'm Kit."

[rutility]

Despite the man's friendliness, they weren't expected to be defended so soon, or by a total stranger. It's almost comical how someone so much smaller than the sentries can irritate them so quickly, but it's a skill Rutile appreciates.

They take a small step back when Kit extends his hand, but otherwise remain still. Their eyes skate first over Kit and then his hand. What it is he expects with such a gesture is anyone's guess; at the very least, he appears to be treating Rutile as an equal - far more than they were getting before.

"Rutile," they say, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze, watching for telegraphs of any other move he might make. "I'm not looking for an expert, just someone who won't insist I go find a bridge every time I ask a simple fucking question."

Their hand trembles a bit with the venom in their voice.

[bestofthevein]

All right, a backward step--Kit can take the temperature of this particular encounter well enough, and so lifts up both hands in a conciliatory gesture; they don't like handshakes, that's fine, no one has to shake anyone else's hand here if they don't want to. Not even the Sentries. Are they still here? Kit steals a backward glance at them to find them still hovering uselessly nearby, watching the exchange like they're prepared to intercede again should Kit's gamble go awry. His grimaces at them, annoyed.

"Ask me a question then," he says when he turns to look back at Rutile. "I won't say anything about the Bridge."

It's not that great there anyway.

[rutility]

Kit keeps his distance, and the crowd stays behind him. Though the eyes of the sentries are still unpleasant, they are far enough away now that Rutile can let their guard down a little, and focus their attention on Kit.

Rutile's questions really are quite simple. It's not their fault the sentries are insensitive communicators. They've gathered that this place is not the moon (which is almost certainly true; it doesn't look like the moon), but nothing beyond that.

"What is this place?" they demand. "How far is it from the moon? Have you heard of a gem called Phosphophyllite?"

These really are questions the Dreaming Bridge can answer, one sentry begins to point out, only to receive a vexed eyeroll from Rutile.

[bestofthevein]

Kit supposes he is the most qualified dwarf in Aifaran to be answering these questions, by way of being--to his knowledge anyway--the only dwarf in Aifaran. He raises his eyebrows, sucks in a breath, and does his best.

"This place--" and here, he spreads his arms out to either side of himself, gesturing around them at the peculiar city, "--is Aifaran. It's a city. Near as I can tell, just about everyone here is originally from somewhere else, even most of the locals. It's--" another pause, his expression considering a moment, "...safe, I think. As safe as any other city I ever visited back where I'm from in my world."

As for the moon? Kit glances up at the sky, squinting some, and then just shakes his head. "I'm definitely the wrong one to ask about the moon--and the only, uh, gem I've met since coming here is Padparadscha." He watches Rutile to gauge their response, to see if his instinct here was correct, that the pair of them are from the same world.

[rutility]

Kit's instinct is well-founded. When he mentions Padparadscha a host of emotions cross Rutile's face: their anger is replaced by shock, which in turn fades into something desperate. They no longer seem to be paying strict attention to Kit, lost in their own thoughts.

Rutile's rational half warns that there's no way of knowing this is their Padparadscha, and that in fact it makes little sense for the only person in the universe they'd rather see to be here also. But there's plenty here that isn't making sense, and at some point they'll have to give up the expectation that it will. Now seems as good a time as any.

Rutile grasps Kit's wrist with their free hand. Their words, while still quick and demanding, now have an air of pleading. "How do you know Padparadscha?" they ask. The sentries, the street, Aifaran - everything else is forgotten. "Do you know where they are?" If it's at the fucking Dreaming Bridge...

[bestofthevein]

It is the fucking Dreaming Bridge.

Kit knows better than to say as much--at least in so many words.

He startles some when Rutile grabs hold of his wrist, but doesn't jerk out of their grip. He knows the desperation in those eyes, in that voice, only too well, knows that he probably wouldn't behave any differently if someone he knew and cared for happened to appear in this place. Behind them, the Sentries look increasingly agitated, but when they start forward as though to intercede in the encounter, Kit is quick to lift his chin, his free hand, in a placating gesture their way--as though to say 'cool it' without actually having to say it out loud. He looks quickly back to Rutile, answering them hopefully before they have the chance to notice how their action had seized the attention of the sentries.

"They're my friend," he replies, and hopes that Padparadscha wouldn't contradict him, were they here. "One of the first friends I made, once the Dreaming stuck me here. Like it's stuck you here, too, I figure." A pause, and then, "I can show you where they're living, though I don't know if they're around right now. Might've gone to Aisling Tower to visit the scientists, I think they do that sometimes."

[rutility]

The sentries' movements go unnoticed, though Rutile does come to their senses and realize that Kit's arm is much softer than their own. They quickly let his wrist go, and shove the chisel back in their pocket.

With one hand they smooth their hair, putting straw-like projects back into place. There's a soft grinding sound of stone on stone as Rutile clenches their teeth. They cannot breathe, so they don't sigh or inhale, and their voice trembles so slightly one could miss it, but when they look back at Kit it is with the focus of an ancient.

"Take me there," they say. Despite trying to recover their composure, their voice still has a frantic edge to it. They're not angry anymore, though, so this is certainly an improvement. "To Aisling Tower, or to where they live, or - wherever they're likely to be."