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
"I suppose it's a more complicated matter for someone like you," she replied, "In all things there is a scale between 'good' and 'evil'. 'Good' is often associated with light, and 'evil' with darkness. Many beings on my world consider death an evil thing, but the one who brings death to the living is a creature of Light, not Darkness."
She shrugged, "The Planes are complex as well. On my world we have three planes, Life, Death and Soul, and three realms, Heaven, Hell and Earth. Heaven is often considered a place of Life and Light, while Hell is considered a place of death and darkness. Humans do not seem to understand how oversimplified their views are."
no subject
Rutile listens to her exposition with rapt attention, their expression carefully neutral. "I cannot imagine what human views must be," they say when she finishes, "if that is complex. Gems, ah... well. It suffices to say that it simply doesn't make sense to speak of death for us.
"But you didn't speak of this agent of death. Given the similarities between your world and the Dreaming, is it possible some equivalent exists here? Although, it seems to me that as I learn more of the Planes, there are similarities with all human cultures..."
They trail off, tapping their chin with a tiny clink-clink-clink of their fingers that is only more white noise against the pattering of rain. Interesting, that much of the Lustrous's knowledge and literature comes from humans - it was from a human book that Rutile learned so much mineralogy - but that their culture fell through the cracks, so to speak.
"Ah, and we're back where we started," they muse. "So many equivalencies, and so little else, and nothing consistent enough to make conjectures about."
no subject
Devin was technically dead, but he was also alive in a strange way. He could die, so she suspected that Rutile also had a sort of 'death', even if not the same way mortals did. Valdis let them think, trying to figure out a way to explain the Angel of Death to them.
"Despite my general inability to dream, I have found that the Plane itself isn't consistent, which is in line with what I have heard of dreams."
She picked up her book, but didn't open it again, opting to turn her vision on Rutile. The strange gem did have a soul, it glowed brightly, evenly, which meant that there was more to the life they possessed. Not that it came as a surprise.
"But you asked about the Agent of Death," she continued, "On my world, he is known as Abaddon. His task is to escort the souls of those who have passed into Heaven, or into Hell. The Soul is what gives life. It...is an energy, but also an identity. It is the true essence of a person and seems to be the catalyst for dreaming."