woe to thee with fearful eyes, their lighthouse is burning up

[rutility]

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)

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Comments

E!

[acicular]

Rutile has an audience, albeit an audience of one, as they stand in the shallows taking the energy of unfettered sunlight directly into their limbs. Antarcticite hadn't come to this section of the beach seeking them out; they are prone to wandering the shoreline with their eye on the horizon, despite reassurances from the Bridge staff that 'sunspot activity' is not a concern. This stretch of unpeopled beach is one of their favourites for simply walking and thinking, about home, about Sensei, wondering what had become of Phos in their absence--and they are so caught up in their internal pondering that for a moment they don't notice anything amiss about the scene they've just encountered.

Then Rutile starts forward into the water, and they snap out of it abruptly.

"Rutile!" they call out, hesitate, then quickly start to tug off their heels one boot at a time. "Wait!" they call out again, "you shouldn't go alone--let me go with you!"

C!

[lasergrenades]

With Pepper in a better mood of late, she's returned to one of her favorite habits: shopping. Often, this is just window shopping - saving money is in fact a thing that's worth doing - but it's also a helpful way to get to know the different nooks and crannies of the city, the patterns of what comes to the markets.

She spots Rutile on her way home, apparently investigating some clothing that has... what looks a lot like bird crap. It'd be pretty if it hadn't gotten dropped on. Her smile is still bright when she approaches the gem, waving. "Hey, Rutile! Looks like you found a pretty mess. God, I'm glad the pigeons in New York aren't this big," she adds with a laugh.

D

[redlightgreenlight]

The night comes quickly, but without the gentle touch of a sunset. Instead it is the strange warping of the protective barrier that colors the end of the day, rippling counter to the steady fade of light. Valdis can hear the party not far from where she sits, hidden in the shadows, her thick black fur moving slightly in the breeze. The dark water laps at the shore, whispering something she can't quite comprehend. She rises and pads closer to the sea, green eyes glowing in the dark. She glances at the party, catching sight of the figure on the outskirts and how their hair catches the light.

Good evening, Rutile, she murmurs, unsure if her telepathy would work on their kind. The barrier is colorful tonight.