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)
ioduanlogs2018-09-01 07:28 pm
rutility) wrote in ioduanlogs2018-09-01 07:28 pm
woe to thee with fearful eyes, their lighthouse is burning up
Characters: Rutile, Yato, Pepper, Antarcticite, and you!
Date: Throughout September
Location: Around Aifaran
Situation: shenanigans
Warnings/Rating: None so far!
A ▸ MARKING TERRITORY | yato (very early september)
It is after a long day of being harrassed by the ocean and gyroshei and Sentry members alike that Rutile returns to the Dreaming Bridge, clothes in tatters and with a mood to match. The last month of reduced sunlight has taken its toll, and so has the fruitlessness of their efforts; Rutile longs for nothing more than to hang their coat up 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 Adamant.
"Yato," they grumble, half to themselves and half to summon the god. "Can you please pick up your things?"
B ▸ CALL ME MELANIE |open (mid september)
[ watch this space! ]
C ▸ POPULAR (Commerce 2) | pepper (mid september, slightly later)
After several months of their single outfit taking all kinds of abuse - standing on the beach during a storm, crawling through the sewer, sneaking aboard ships, walking on the bottom of the ocean - Rutile is really feeling Red Beryl's absence. The gem tailor would have reprimanded them for not caring for their clothing long ago, as well as mended and repaired these and had more on the way. Their tattered lab coat can't even really be called that anymore; their gold fingers are poking through the tips of their gloves, and it's a wonder their shoes have lasted this long. They cannot get away with it anymore: they need new clothing.
And they have no idea where to begin. Rutile's pocket is unfortunately light. The only rhinn they have is from the job they took corralling gyroshei last week, and they are still not certain about how all the coins work. They've stuck to the open-air market, which they have some passing familiarity with, but the choices are still overwhelming.
The item that's caught their eye now is one that's been marked down seventy-five percent. Without a head for numbers, the thing that truly draws their attention is the bright turquoise of the cloth; they've never had colored clothing before, and though they won't admit it, they are curious about how they'd look in such a color. Other customers have turned up their noses at it: the front is unfortunately speckled with a black and white mess of uric acid from one of the fowl visitors plaguing the city. Rutile, though, has gotten closer to inspect it. Waste not, want not, after all.
D ▸ WITH ALL DUE RESPECT (SciTech 3, Arts 4) | open (late september)
Despite the general aversion the ecologists had to Rutile, no one stops them from dropping by the beach late one September evening to the party hosted by other researchers from the Academy, to generally mingle and hear more informed opinions about what's going on. A bit uncharacteristically, they refrain from doing much more than eavesdropping; they are keenly aware that the strangeness with the barrier is probably partly their fault.
That said, it's not helpful. Rutile slips from conversation to conversation and hears plenty of words: some that they know, like Dreaming and metaphysical, and many that they don't, like Kähler manifold and charmed meson. After turning down many drinks (and then finally accepting one so that people will stop offering), Rutile finds themselves on the edge of the party, staring up at the rippling in the barrier overhead. In the twilight, the ripples are vibrant shades of purples and pinks with the occasional bright vermillion. It really is quite lovely.
E ▸ DOWN BY THE WATER (reference to SciTech 4) | antarcticite (late september)
Rutile did their best to volunteer for the team heading out to the reef - if there's anything biological they know about, it's coral - but the Aifaran marine ecology labs were just not keen on having them present. Something about "proper clearance" and "documentation" and "no prior record of wandering willy-nilly into scientific facilities" or something like that. (It's possible their name has been blacklisted. Who could say for sure?) Even reminding them that they don't need gear didn't work, since regulations insisted that everyone have it anyway. Rutile has long since stopped expecting sense from Aifaran's bureaucrats.
It's fine. Rutile doesn't need permission to go to the beach. It will take far longer to walk out to the coral, but they have never truly lacked for time anyway. It is a clear, sunny day that finds Rutile standing in the shallows, soft waves lapping around their ankles as tiny fish explore the stranger that has invaded their midst. Rutile's shoes are set on top of their tattered lab coat, folded neatly and stowed beneath a small rock. It's not frivolous that they take a moment to savor the experience; the last time they swam simply because they could must have been ages ago. They stand motionless, sinking into the sand and simply enjoying the low burst of energy from the sun on their limbs.
Then, they set off into the deep.
F ▸ WILDCARD | open (early september)
[ supply your own or hit me up on plurk! ]
Date: Throughout September
Location: Around Aifaran
Situation: shenanigans
Warnings/Rating: None so far!
A ▸ MARKING TERRITORY | yato (very early september)
It is after a long day of being harrassed by the ocean and gyroshei and Sentry members alike that Rutile returns to the Dreaming Bridge, clothes in tatters and with a mood to match. The last month of reduced sunlight has taken its toll, and so has the fruitlessness of their efforts; Rutile longs for nothing more than to hang their coat up 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 Adamant.
"Yato," they grumble, half to themselves and half to summon the god. "Can you please pick up your things?"
B ▸ CALL ME MELANIE |
[ watch this space! ]
C ▸ POPULAR (Commerce 2) | pepper (mid september, slightly later)
After several months of their single outfit taking all kinds of abuse - standing on the beach during a storm, crawling through the sewer, sneaking aboard ships, walking on the bottom of the ocean - Rutile is really feeling Red Beryl's absence. The gem tailor would have reprimanded them for not caring for their clothing long ago, as well as mended and repaired these and had more on the way. Their tattered lab coat can't even really be called that anymore; their gold fingers are poking through the tips of their gloves, and it's a wonder their shoes have lasted this long. They cannot get away with it anymore: they need new clothing.
And they have no idea where to begin. Rutile's pocket is unfortunately light. The only rhinn they have is from the job they took corralling gyroshei last week, and they are still not certain about how all the coins work. They've stuck to the open-air market, which they have some passing familiarity with, but the choices are still overwhelming.
The item that's caught their eye now is one that's been marked down seventy-five percent. Without a head for numbers, the thing that truly draws their attention is the bright turquoise of the cloth; they've never had colored clothing before, and though they won't admit it, they are curious about how they'd look in such a color. Other customers have turned up their noses at it: the front is unfortunately speckled with a black and white mess of uric acid from one of the fowl visitors plaguing the city. Rutile, though, has gotten closer to inspect it. Waste not, want not, after all.
D ▸ WITH ALL DUE RESPECT (SciTech 3, Arts 4) | open (late september)
Despite the general aversion the ecologists had to Rutile, no one stops them from dropping by the beach late one September evening to the party hosted by other researchers from the Academy, to generally mingle and hear more informed opinions about what's going on. A bit uncharacteristically, they refrain from doing much more than eavesdropping; they are keenly aware that the strangeness with the barrier is probably partly their fault.
That said, it's not helpful. Rutile slips from conversation to conversation and hears plenty of words: some that they know, like Dreaming and metaphysical, and many that they don't, like Kähler manifold and charmed meson. After turning down many drinks (and then finally accepting one so that people will stop offering), Rutile finds themselves on the edge of the party, staring up at the rippling in the barrier overhead. In the twilight, the ripples are vibrant shades of purples and pinks with the occasional bright vermillion. It really is quite lovely.
E ▸ DOWN BY THE WATER (reference to SciTech 4) | antarcticite (late september)
Rutile did their best to volunteer for the team heading out to the reef - if there's anything biological they know about, it's coral - but the Aifaran marine ecology labs were just not keen on having them present. Something about "proper clearance" and "documentation" and "no prior record of wandering willy-nilly into scientific facilities" or something like that. (It's possible their name has been blacklisted. Who could say for sure?) Even reminding them that they don't need gear didn't work, since regulations insisted that everyone have it anyway. Rutile has long since stopped expecting sense from Aifaran's bureaucrats.
It's fine. Rutile doesn't need permission to go to the beach. It will take far longer to walk out to the coral, but they have never truly lacked for time anyway. It is a clear, sunny day that finds Rutile standing in the shallows, soft waves lapping around their ankles as tiny fish explore the stranger that has invaded their midst. Rutile's shoes are set on top of their tattered lab coat, folded neatly and stowed beneath a small rock. It's not frivolous that they take a moment to savor the experience; the last time they swam simply because they could must have been ages ago. They stand motionless, sinking into the sand and simply enjoying the low burst of energy from the sun on their limbs.
Then, they set off into the deep.
F ▸ WILDCARD | open (early september)
[ supply your own or hit me up on plurk! ]
no subject
"The ocean is frozen and dangerous by the time you're awake," Rutile explains, rather unnecessarily. "And it's actually more active here than it is back at the school anyway."
And than it is outside of the barrier. Rutile sombers a little recalling the state of the sea that far out, and then quickly pushes it aside.
A few curious fish dart back and forth around the gems' legs, bold enough to occasionally nip at them, but not above swimming away when Rutile tries to catch hold of one.
"There's a bigger reef deeper out somewhere," Rutile mentions, "but if the currents are too strong, we can stay in the shallows as well."
There's plenty to see either way - the sea grass is quite extensive, and there are a few mini-reefs scattered about as well.
no subject
"What is it you want to see at the reef?" Lifting their eyes towards the deep blue of the open water, they can just barely make out the shape off it further off. They turn to look questioningly at Rutile, though they've mastered their apprehension and squashed it down where it shouldn't cause them any problems; it should be clear enough from their demeanour, however, that wherever Rutile intends to go next, Antarcticite will follow.
no subject
They've accepted by now that Antarc is going to follow wherever they lead, so they resolve to stop offering opportunities to turn back. Instead, it's Rutile's turn to feel sheepish. They avoid looking at Antarc, walking out a few paces into the grass as they say, "I fear my actions may have caused more trouble than I intended. I want to do what I can to fix it, or at least bear witness to the trouble.
"I overheard some ecologists saying that parts of the reef had died off," they admit. "I intend to go see it."
(Also, being surrounded by schools of fish is just fun. Sometimes you just have to have fun, Antarcticite.)
arrives late w/ lactose-free lattes 4 everyone
They right themselves with a wobble, flush with embarrassment, then look beyond Rutile to the outline of the reef in the distance. From where they're standing, it's difficult to make out any detail at all indicating whether it's alive or dead, and regardless, Antarcticite has never seen so much life teeming beneath the water's surface before anyway. "How could you have killed off an entire reef?"
They don't bother asking 'why'; Rutile might have a slight proclivity towards experimenting on living things for science, but killing off a lot of living things at once for no discernible purpose has never been in their nature. (Though, they must admit, it seems that much has changed about the gems in the years since Antarcticite was taken by the Lunarians.)
you're the real mvp
They keep on through the water, slipping almost as often as Antarcticite does (but with more dignity) on seaweed and soft sand. The smaller reefs and rocks become fewer and farther between as the two lustrous make their way out to the larger reef, and the sea life becomes rather more solitary: some yards away, a shark skims along the bottom; a barracuda lurks in the shadowy grass; and Rutile gently bats aside a jellyfish that bobs in their path.
Rutile stops short when they find the reef. The difference between this one and the ones they and Antarc had passed on the way is striking: instead of a colorful assortment of plants, algae, and animals teeming with life, the coral is more akin to forest brush in the dead of winter, brown and skeletal and devoid of creatures as far as the eye can see. There is something sobering about it, that snatches Rutile's tongue and holds their gaze captive.
It is not certain whether or not Rutile's actions were responsible for this - but now, it doesn't seem to matter. The tragedy is that it's happened at all.
no subject
"This is what happens to living things, then," they say after a time, breaking the almost sepulchral silence that has fallen around them. "When they die."