Doki Doki Vaikuntha Club (Act 1)

[peninhand]

Who: Anyone signed-up for the plot!
When: July 27th
Where: Curti Center
What: Monika's opened a literature club and the members have to share a poem together for this event. It can be embarrassing, but there's nothing to lose!
Warnings/Notes: No warnings whatsoever! Listen to this track to enhance your poem sharing experience.

Comments

[transect]

( when rutile had heard of the 'literature club' they had envisioned something... well, definitely something different than this. you might call it a real-time interpretation of 'what I expected'— with visions of scholarly types discussing ancient works of history or medicine... vs 'what I got' which is what looks decidedly like a... classroom.

but they'd agreed to be here of their own will, and while rutile could think of several thousand other ways to better spend their time... they had done what was asked— and written something down on the provided materials.

it's written on a small corner of a page though. you can catch a glimpse of it, but they might need a little more coaxing to hand it over entirely... )

[chefbayardee]

[ Hunk had seen Rutile around since the day he showed up, so it was nice to see a familiar face show up again! Even if that face was the opposite of expressive. ]

Hey, Rutile! I... didn't know you were interested in poetry. [ Granted, he wasn't either, he's just here to support Monika, but. Still. ] Do you wanna see my poem first, or do you want me to read yours?

[ Down to business for both their sakes, but he also can't see that little poem, so. ]

[transect]

( well, the truth is... ) Poetry isn't something I'm familiar with. When I heard there was a gathering of individuals interested in literature I— pictured something different.

( and there's a shrug. ) Now that I'm here though I admit I'm curious. What sort of things do humans write about? May I?

( they're reaching out for your poem, bro. )

[chefbayardee]

I... I'm not really a poet, but I tried! [ Hunk lets himself release a tiny little awkward laugh. Rutile had always been a little creepy, but they were also a really cool alien rock-thing! ]

[ And then he slides over his poem, before leveling a scrutinizing gaze at Rutile. ] What did you expect with all this? A book club?

[ Beyond that remark, he'll give them time to read his poem. As much as he wants to grabby-hands for the poem he gets to read, there's no rush. ]

[transect]

That's— ( their shoulders heave with a silent sigh ) exactly what had I expected.

( oh well.
taking his poem into their gloved hands, rutile skims quickly over the words, brow knitting as they read about moons breaking, and their riches... leaning closer into the page, they read on. by the time they're finished, the page is again extended out at arms length, as their head tilts. )

Did you... burn down a castle? With your stove?

[chefbayardee]

What? No, it- [ He stops, blinking for a moment. Hunk went and made his poem too complicated, because of course he did, and- ] It's about cooking. Or... or fighting. Both?

If that... makes sense? [ There's a sheepish little chuckle. ] I don't really know what I'm doing.

[transect]

( don't worry hunk. it's not you. its them.
at the explanation, their head tilts to the opposite side this time as rutile examines the writing again. )

I see, yes. I wasn't aware one could fight with an oven, that seems like quite a complex battle-stance. I'll have to applaud you on that one, Hunk.

( they have certainly never heard of anything like that before. or read about it here in vaikuntha, for that matter. sure the gourmands used utensils, but... )

Cooking your enemies does seem a bit harsh, but I'm sure that it inspires a great deal of fear in them.

( they're just getting all the wrong ideas........ visual metaphors, man. )

[chefbayardee]

Wha- No! [ He sounds incredulous, and lets out a little whine. ] I couldn't even lift an oven, you-

[ Rutile doesn't cook. Because Rutile doesn't eat. Because Rutile is a rock. There's a flash of admittedly embarrassed recognition on Hunk's face. ] It, uh... it depends on how you read it. [ A beat. ]

If you wanna read it like a fight, then there's moons blowing up and cannons and swords and explosions and adrenaline, wait do you even have adrenaline? Do you know what adrenaline is? [ But a moment's pause. ] Doesn't matter.

If you read it about cooking, then the moons are eggs, the blackness is a pan, the sword is your utensil of choice, the cannon shoots spices and veggies, and... it's breakfast. Do- Do you know what breakfast is? Do you even eat?! [ And he just stares at them, a little dumbfounded and hoping he's just making a fool of himself. Because Rutile is cool, this is just a lot to explain... ]

[transect]

( listening to his explanation about the words on this page and the story that he woven with them... there's a thoughtful— ) I see.

( as rutile's eyes skipped over the poem again.
they might not eat eggs first thing in the morning since rutile had no reason to eat but— they knew the rush of adrenaline. they had experienced what it felt like to have an enemy expire under the weight of their blade, felt the crumbling of an adversary at their feet... )

I like it. ( have your page back, hunk. ) Especially the part about the moon blowing up. Both the literal and... figurative meanings.