Rutile (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rutility) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ioduanlogs2018-08-06 08:49 pm
rutility) wrote in ioduanlogs2018-08-06 08:49 pm
[august open] rock and roll all night
Characters: Rutile, Yato, Valdis, and maybe you!
Date: Early August
Location: The Dreaming Bridge, the Ioduan Academy
Situation: Roommate trouble and metaplot business
Warnings/Rating: None!
Note: Please don't tag into the open if we already have a thread for AC this month planned!
A ▸ MARKING TERRITORY | yato (early august)
It is after a long day of being caught out in the rain that Rutile returns to the Dreaming Bridge, soaking wet and with a mood to match. The days of reduced sunlight have taken their toll, and Rutile longs for nothing more than to hang their coat up to dry and collapse into bed for the next forty-eight or so hours. But it is to their great disappointment that they open the door to their room and find their bed hidden away.
Listen. It is not organic beings' fault that they are inclined to nest. That is only natural, and it makes sense; with their heightened sensitivity to the environment and functional needs, they require space where they can spread out and lounge and separate important objects from waste. Rutile only wishes it wasn't their space, as well.
How, they wonder, is anyone to get any kind of work done when there are garments and accessories strewn across the floor? It is worse than Red Beryl's chambers, for the love of Sensei.
"Yato," they grumble, half to themselves and half to summon the god. "Can you please pick up your things?"
B ▸ WITH ENEMIES LIKE THESE | valdis (slightly less early august)
It's several days now since the Narrakra returned to Aifaran, and Rutile still can't get its creaking hull and ghastly sights out of their mind. That's what brings them to the hallowed halls of the Ioduan Academy, searching for a naturalist they've contacted about their collected samples from the ship. Now Rutile passes through the campus in search of them, following signs with only half a mind to what they say, more preoccupied with their thoughts.
The void-like stone they found that foggy night sits firmly against their thigh. They have not let it out of their possession since their conversation with Kit a few days ago, and even though they are no closer to answers, they wonder about its properties and origin. They have not mentioned it to anyone else, but perhaps this naturalist can offer some reprieve.
Outside, the sky is darkening; angry clouds gather just beyond the mountains, threatening to drench the library courtyard. Rutile is glad of the indoors.
C ▸ ANTICIPATION OF PRECIPITATION | open (unspecified)
This is the tenth day in a row that it has not rained, not sprinkled, but stormed, and Rutile is quickly sickening of it. For the tenth day in a row they've tried to go out and catch what little sunlight they can, but for the tenth day in a row they've ducked under a canopy as the first drops splash in their eyes. The new paint on their skin is waterproof, Padparadscha says, but habit is as habit does, and frankly, Rutile doesn't trust anything they didn't compound themselves. Also, stone or not, being drenched is just unpleasant.
Most of the denizens of Aifaran have the same idea, slipping into stores and zipping up raincoats; the few that don't are aquatic species, lucky bugs, and enjoying themselves while everyone else suffers.
... Or not. Some select few pull out long sticks that transform into covers with the press of a button and carry on their way, happily protected by their portable canopies in lovely colors and patterns. For a moment Rutile watches, brief irritation crossing their face, and then they demand: "Where can one get one of those?"
D ▸ 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. ]
Date: Early August
Location: The Dreaming Bridge, the Ioduan Academy
Situation: Roommate trouble and metaplot business
Warnings/Rating: None!
Note: Please don't tag into the open if we already have a thread for AC this month planned!
A ▸ MARKING TERRITORY | yato (early august)
It is after a long day of being caught out in the rain that Rutile returns to the Dreaming Bridge, soaking wet and with a mood to match. The days of reduced sunlight have taken their toll, and Rutile longs for nothing more than to hang their coat up to dry and collapse into bed for the next forty-eight or so hours. But it is to their great disappointment that they open the door to their room and find their bed hidden away.
Listen. It is not organic beings' fault that they are inclined to nest. That is only natural, and it makes sense; with their heightened sensitivity to the environment and functional needs, they require space where they can spread out and lounge and separate important objects from waste. Rutile only wishes it wasn't their space, as well.
How, they wonder, is anyone to get any kind of work done when there are garments and accessories strewn across the floor? It is worse than Red Beryl's chambers, for the love of Sensei.
"Yato," they grumble, half to themselves and half to summon the god. "Can you please pick up your things?"
B ▸ WITH ENEMIES LIKE THESE | valdis (slightly less early august)
It's several days now since the Narrakra returned to Aifaran, and Rutile still can't get its creaking hull and ghastly sights out of their mind. That's what brings them to the hallowed halls of the Ioduan Academy, searching for a naturalist they've contacted about their collected samples from the ship. Now Rutile passes through the campus in search of them, following signs with only half a mind to what they say, more preoccupied with their thoughts.
The void-like stone they found that foggy night sits firmly against their thigh. They have not let it out of their possession since their conversation with Kit a few days ago, and even though they are no closer to answers, they wonder about its properties and origin. They have not mentioned it to anyone else, but perhaps this naturalist can offer some reprieve.
Outside, the sky is darkening; angry clouds gather just beyond the mountains, threatening to drench the library courtyard. Rutile is glad of the indoors.
C ▸ ANTICIPATION OF PRECIPITATION | open (unspecified)
This is the tenth day in a row that it has not rained, not sprinkled, but stormed, and Rutile is quickly sickening of it. For the tenth day in a row they've tried to go out and catch what little sunlight they can, but for the tenth day in a row they've ducked under a canopy as the first drops splash in their eyes. The new paint on their skin is waterproof, Padparadscha says, but habit is as habit does, and frankly, Rutile doesn't trust anything they didn't compound themselves. Also, stone or not, being drenched is just unpleasant.
Most of the denizens of Aifaran have the same idea, slipping into stores and zipping up raincoats; the few that don't are aquatic species, lucky bugs, and enjoying themselves while everyone else suffers.
... Or not. Some select few pull out long sticks that transform into covers with the press of a button and carry on their way, happily protected by their portable canopies in lovely colors and patterns. For a moment Rutile watches, brief irritation crossing their face, and then they demand: "Where can one get one of those?"
D ▸ 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. ]
no subject
They frown, troubled. "But they have spent so much time asleep," they venture uncertainly, "surely they must want to spend their time awake with you now." That was what it meant to have a real partner, wasn't it? Antarcticite can only guess, and extrapolate based on their own feelings of wistful longing for Adamant's company... and perhaps even a bit for Phos, annoying though the little pebble had been.
no subject
Rutile straightens their (tattered) lab coat around their shoulders, along with the rest of their dignity. "Oh, we have spent plenty of time together," they say to Antarc. "It's simply that we have different interests. I love to study and explore and pursue answers and Padparadscha... doesn't," they finish lamely.
Still, they smile. "You have far more important things to occupy yourself with. You should start by seeing some of the information technology people; they will explain things in a little more depth and get you set up for life in Aifaran."
no subject
Antarcticite can take a hint.
Dropping the subject is not the same as forgetting about it completely; it will sit with them for quite some time now, how the partnerships among gems that they had idealized and sometimes daydreamed about were in fact far more complex than they could imagine. Yet, they must remind themselves, their partnership with Phos had been a complicated thing too, hadn't it? Brief and involuntary as it had been, there had been more to their dynamic than simply a clumsy, absent-minded junior inconveniencing their senior.
"Yes, I should take the initiative, shouldn't I," they say, and resolutely put thoughts of partnerships out of their mind, at least for the moment. They get to their feet, rather careful with their newly mended leg, and then give a short, respectful bow Rutile's way. "Thank you for your help. Perhaps, once I'm more settled, we can talk again, about..." There, they trail off some, frowning; dwelling on an old life will do nothing for them here, but they cannot help their curiosity. "About what has happened back home, since I was taken."
no subject
"About what has happened back home, since I was taken."
Good feeling's gone.
Rutile's expression remains remarkably neutral as they promise, "Of course. We'll talk about it soon." Then they wave their hand, shooing Antarc off to the Bridge. "You run along and find Padparadscha and the staff members."
They wait until Antarc is gone before their true feelings emerge. Rutile had not spoken to them since before they paired up with Phos that fateful winter, but if Phos's reactions were anything to go by, the two of them had been close. First partnerships were always so hard; harder, when they ended with pieces scattered in the wind. Antarcticite cannot be allowed to know of Phosphophyllite's betrayal, Rutile resolves.
They slip their yimo out of their pocket, and begin composing a message to Padparadscha.