[July Open] 65% more rock per rock

[rutility]

Characters: Rutile, Leo, the Fool, Padparadscha, Raven, and anyone else who wants to hop in!
Date: Early July
Location: Die Rosa Tulpe, outside city limits, etc
Situation: A pre-business meeting with the Fool, discovering their talent with Leo?, discussing the barrier with Padparadscha, roommate shenanigans with Raven, and July's Faith 4
Warnings/Rating: Nope!



A ▸ ARRANGEMENTS, FLORAL | the fool

Despite their dedicated exploration of the city, Rutile still has not managed to see every location in Aifaran. Die Rosa Tulpe is low on their list for being primarily a food place, and given that Rutile has little interest in food (except for the proportion of it that spontaneously turns to ash, which they've gathered is rare), they've taken their time getting around to it.

When they enter, they're not certain why that is. The coffee shop is actually quite pleasant, with plenty of green and growing things, and at this time of day, uncrowded. It has just the right amount of proximity to the street that one doesn't feel isolated, but enough privacy to be a good place to work. Rutile stands in the door, observing the patrons. Their eyes widen when they see the Fool sitting at a table with his wares, but, never one to intrude, they keep to themselves unless noticed.

B ▸ MIND YOUR MANNERS | leonardo watch

Rutile appraises the milky white stone between their fingers with some disinterest. Quartz, they decide, based on the hexagonal structure and the scratch it leaves on their forearm, and they toss it behind them without a care for who or what it may hit. Small loss: one couldn't step outside without tripping over some variety of quartz.

They stand up and dust their labcoat, straightening it around their shoulders, and turn about to head back into the city. In their hand rests a small collection of precious stones that they contemplate as they walk away; deep in thought, they're hardly watching where they're going.

C ▸ ARE YOU MY DAD? (FAITH 4) | open

If Rutile has been homesick lately, their feelings are quickly cured by the Arybar child leaking some sort of chartreuse sticky substance all over their labcoat. Their skill with juniors is unremarkable at best; now, with hardly the authority to say for sure what is wrong (are they hungry? sick?), it takes something of a dive.

Still, they do their best. Rutile crouches down to eye level with the child. "Alright now," they say, and try to be gentle. "That's quite enough of that. I can't help you when you're upset like this."

The child cries louder. Rutile cringes inwardly. Few juniors have ever been this difficult.

D ▸ NOTHING VENTURED | padparadscha

Rutile is of several minds about their upcoming journey with Aly: first, and foremost, they are excited. It feels good to finally have something to do besides yell at other Dreamfolk across the Lae. But second, and of no smaller concern to them, is the danger of the proposed venture; they do not fear much for their physical safety, but it is a fool who wanders away in secret and expects to be found later. And the third, secret, smaller mind simply wants Padparadscha’s opinion.

It has been several centuries since Rutile last had to actively seek Padparadscha. Like another limb, Rutile feels it keenly when Padparadscha isn't by their side, and the ghost of their presence has haunted them for millennia. They’ve grown used to having them nearby, and though they easily recall a time when they and Padparadscha roamed separate from one another, it is so long ago now that they’ve forgotten what it’s like to be independent creatures. The difficulty of it surprises them. Though they’ve learned Aifaran’s layout well, they still don’t know Padparadscha’s haunts, and the landscape is so different from their island that there are few similar areas to try.

So rather than waste time combing the city, they send them a text message, via yimo:

I would like to discuss something. Can we meet somewhere private?

and sit down to wait for a response.  

E ▸ WILD CARD | open

[ PM me or hit me up on plurk for a starter, or just write one in yourself! I'm game for anything.]


 

Comments

[rutility]

The Fool's work is truly wonderful, with delicate details and flourishes signifying a master of their craft. Rutile refrains from touching it, though they look long and hard, admiring the work, though they see no specific piece that captivates them more than the rest.

They stand up straight when their attention is drawn by the Fool's words. His joviality is a sudden change from the concerns he expressed some minutes ago, so hasty that Rutile doesn't quite buy the cavalier attitude. "I'm confident you will," they say. "I've found resilience is one of the most amazing features of living things, if you don't mind my saying so. We gems may be made of hardier stuff, but because of that, we hardly value life as much as someone to whom it is precious. It makes us complacent."

It is a compliment, though it may not come across as one. Their words are amiable, and their expression open.

[afoolsgold]

In some ways, the gems have begun to remind the Fool of dragons--not in their arrogance or self-assured dominion over the world, but in their alien perspective on living, and what it means to be alive. It takes him a moment, therefore, to quirk a small smile in response to what Rutile says, but smile he does. After a moment, even a little laugh follows, and he looks aside.

"I do not mind at all," he replies at length, "though I would hardly consider you complacent. To my eye, you have grasped hold of life here in Aifaran with both hands. That is something to be admired, too."

[rutility]

Rutile is not won easily by compliments that's a lie, but they consider that perhaps they were too hasty to judge the Fool the first time they met him. They laugh with him, though only a little. "It hasn't been easy," they admit. "I had a trade back home that is in no demand in Aifaran; coming here and trying to find where I can fit in with society has been... humbling."

They tap his display case with a finger and the muffled thud of stone. "You're fortunate to have this. I won't lie, I envy you; even your unfortunate predicament with the rent."

(They are careful not to mention that the rent would make no difference to them, either way.)

[afoolsgold]

It has been an unexpected stroke of luck, being able to make use of the trade that helped him get by in Bingtown; without it, the Fool is unsure what he would have done to support himself. He dips his head some in acknowledgement of this, though his curiosity is drawn to something Rutile says.

"What was your trade?" he asks them, inquisitive, then adds, almost apologetic, "If it is something you would not mind discussing with me."

[rutility]

For a moment, Padparadscha occupies Rutile's thoughts: the countless hours of seeking the purest gems; of carving them, honing them, smoothing them; of hoping against hope, of accepting despair as a constant companion. A strange hollowness overtakes them. They push the thoughts away.

Instead, Rutile splays out their right hand and tugs at the tip of each finger, loosening the black glove until they can remove it entirely. They have not bothered to paint their hand with pigment, and the gold striations of rutile shine as they wiggle their fingers.

"These are quite delicate," they say, displaying the digits. "Stone is filled with weak points, and can be shattered if you hit it with the right force from the right angle. Pieces are lost, or stolen, or need to be replaced. That was my purpose, among similar tasks," they finish with a smile. "Find the right mineral, cut it to size, fix and replace anything that needed fixing or replacing. Among my kind, it is a medical practice. Here, my only patients are myself and Padparadscha."

Tongue in cheek, they add, "And I am not a good patient."

[afoolsgold]

The Fool is momentarily taken aback by that flicker of melancholy that he glimpses on Rutile's features. He doesn't press them for details, earlier conversations with Padparadscha present in his memories, if not fresh. Instead, when his new friend lifts up their glove to remove it, he watches with interest.

The glove comes off and--oh my.

"How beautiful," he exclaims softly, unthinkingly, then comes back to himself to give Rutile a look of apology. "Forgive me," he adds, chagrined, and gestures again to their fingers. "I don't mean to overstep my bounds. But it sounds marvellous to me, this craft of yours, where you are at once physician and artisan. I have acted as such only once before in my life... though my patient was rather recalcitrant."

He smiles some to remember the liveship Paragon, who held the Fool--as Amber--in his large, living, wizardwood hands while she worked to reshape his broken face into the image of someone she could love.

A moment later, he looks to Rutile's eyes in some concern. "Does it not cause you pain, to perform work of this kind upon yourself?"

[rutility]

Long ago Rutile had made peace with the knowledge that they are not the most glamorous gem around; their gold and currant red simply can't compete with the saturated hues and adamantine gleams of the other gems, and that is fine. But the Fool's soft exclamations of wonder, both at their trade and at their form, are hardly unwelcome. Their smile grows, almost imperceptibly, with his admiration.

They are about to ask after the Fool's own experience when he poses a different question entirely: "Does it not cause you pain...?"

Rutile is startled a bit by the question, and more by the troubled look in the Fool's eyes. Their hand falters. "No," they say. "At least, not personally. There is some amount of discomfort in a patient when attaching prosthetics, but that is due to observing the procedure rather than any intrinsic sensation. You see, anything tougher or harder than our own ratings will do damage if it so much as grinds the wrong way," they explain. "We don't feel it, but we can imagine it. The imagining is worse than anything else."

They begin to pull their glove back on, sliding it deftly around their wrist. "But you mention you have performed a similar duty once. Is that were you learned such meticulous carving?" Wood is a surprising medium for such a trade, but after their experience working with metal, they will not soon pass judgment.

[afoolsgold]

Gravely, the Fool says, "Witnessing yourself made--or remade," and for a moment drops his eyes. "Yes, I understand."

(It is not the same, what Fitz did to him on the Glacier Plains of Aslevjal, and yet--)

"But you mention you have performed a similar duty once. Is that were you learned such meticulous carving?"

It takes him a listless moment to pull his wandering thoughts back to the present, but when his mind makes sense of Rutile's question, he quirks a wry smile. Yes, he decides, this is a topic he much prefers. "Not as such," he replies and turns to rest a hand lightly atop the display case, examining the pieces resting on their bed of blue velvet. He seems to deliberate over something privately for another moment, before he takes a breath and goes on. "I have found woodcarving enjoyable since my childhood, but it was not until a chance brush--" quite literally, "--with another's magic that I became able to create such intricate work."

He lifts his eyes to Rutile again, contemplative. "There are liveships, in my world. Truthfully, they are tragic creations, wrought from the cocoons of serpents before they could develop into dragons. Men used these cocoons to build great ships for sailing, and over time the ships would... quicken. They woke up." As living ghosts, some now believe.

"I came to befriend the liveship Paragon, some years ago. The figurehead--his face--had been badly damaged. He asked me to carve him a new one." There, he spreads his hands gently to either side, his smile rather wistful. "How could I refuse him?"

[rutility]

Rutile nods. They understand perfectly what it means for one's skills to make all the difference in a loved one's existence; that to take action in such a circumstance is not so much a desire as it is a need. Though many of the Fool's words are unfamiliar to them, and certainly their contexts, the nostalgia in his voice is not.

"It is the greatest honor, I think, to apply our abilities in such a way that they improve and beautify the lives of our companions," they agree. "Certainly the most worthwhile reason for practicing. I imagine that your friend Paragon is grateful for your efforts." With a wry smile, they add, "I may be biased, but I also wouldn't be surprised to find that he is the handsomest of his kind."

And though their reassurance of the Fool is genuine, their curiosity has still been piqued.

"These liveships sound fascinating," Rutile says. "I can't say I've ever seen a serpent that has a cocoon before, much less one large enough for a ship to be carved from." The only ships they've seen have been those from Aifaran. They're not entirely convinced something large enough to carve one of those exists.