amaterasu. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
illuminating) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nysalogs2017-11-12 07:36 am
illuminating) wrote in nysalogs2017-11-12 07:36 am
Entry tags:
nothing needs to be done.
Who: Andy (awesomenesss) & Ammy (illuminating)
What: Mouse Rat's rad lead singer shares some marshmallows with an old dog.
When: backdated to the beginning of October-ish. (the 2nd, specifically, i believe?)
Where: Market District in Olympia.
Warning(s): gosh, i really doubt it.
[Food and proper visiting is far preferable to slow, nearly-anguished texting. Her phone's deserted once she and this precious Andy have decided on an arrangement. Old habits die hard, et cetera.
Pleased as can be, she enters the Market with a bubbly, spingy trot, ears already standing in needless show of extra focus. They won't help her much at the moment, unfortunately. Or the nose. It's not as though her sight is bad, but sounds and scents are faster senders of information if one is the right kind of creature for it.
She slips, or even rudely nudges past people in her eager searching. Cape, cape. This is the top clue she sticks with, given (and even she had to remind herself on the way) she has no idea what a marshamallow looks like. Luckily, a lot of ground can be covered with four legs, and within a few minutes or so, she spots what's surely (hopefully!!) got to be the person who invited her out here. He's definitely sporting a cape.
—Wait! She knows him! This is the person who played that musical game with such enthusiasm! Her glad-addled surprise hiccups out of her in a little chirruping whimper, and she does a helpless doggish jig with front paws, before flopping down into play bow, her tail starting up tirelessly.]
awesomenesss) & Ammy (illuminating) What: Mouse Rat's rad lead singer shares some marshmallows with an old dog.
When: backdated to the beginning of October-ish. (the 2nd, specifically, i believe?)
Where: Market District in Olympia.
Warning(s): gosh, i really doubt it.
[Food and proper visiting is far preferable to slow, nearly-anguished texting. Her phone's deserted once she and this precious Andy have decided on an arrangement. Old habits die hard, et cetera.
Pleased as can be, she enters the Market with a bubbly, spingy trot, ears already standing in needless show of extra focus. They won't help her much at the moment, unfortunately. Or the nose. It's not as though her sight is bad, but sounds and scents are faster senders of information if one is the right kind of creature for it.
She slips, or even rudely nudges past people in her eager searching. Cape, cape. This is the top clue she sticks with, given (and even she had to remind herself on the way) she has no idea what a marshamallow looks like. Luckily, a lot of ground can be covered with four legs, and within a few minutes or so, she spots what's surely (hopefully!!) got to be the person who invited her out here. He's definitely sporting a cape.
—Wait! She knows him! This is the person who played that musical game with such enthusiasm! Her glad-addled surprise hiccups out of her in a little chirruping whimper, and she does a helpless doggish jig with front paws, before flopping down into play bow, her tail starting up tirelessly.]
no subject
Probably helps that these aren't exactly marshmallows. They're close to marshmallows. Some kind of mushroom, actually, which is close to marshmallows, close enough that Andy thinks they've got to be related. He knows the difference between a marshmallow and a mushroom, of course. One goes on pizza, one goes in hot chocolate, and you do not want to confuse the two. These are all air puffed like marshmallows. They even taste sweet like marshmallows. And, bonus: he's got a lot of them.
His mission today: acquire poor unfortunate target never lucky enough to have eaten marshmallows before. With laser focus, Andy scans the market, even though he doesn't know who he's looking for. Doesn't matter: he will know Amy when he sees her. She'll be the one looking starved for marshmallows which, while not an expression Andy is familiar with, is still one he's gonna be able to find. He's got the bag of marshmallows clutched tight to his chest. It's full enough that he has to raise his chin a little just to fit it under there. No way is he letting anyone at these marshmallows except Amy.
A weird sound catches his attention, and he turns around. There's a lot of people in the market.
--Oh, wait. He looks down, and gasps, surprised.]
Heyyyy! Hey, buddy! Wow, what the heck're you doing here! I didn't know they let dogs transport themselv-- Wait, no. Secret.
[Self-editing, but barely.]
Hey, c'mere!
[Arms still full of the marshmallow bag, Andy crouches down. His cool cape brushes in the dirt, but that's okay. This cool dog is back!]
Just keep away from the marshmallows, okay? Ahh, shoot. I can't ask that of you--dogs love marshmallows. Man, am I glad to see you! Hey-- [Another new thought.] You can help me find Amy!
no subject
As he crouches, she approaches as requested and inquisitively, nose nearly about to touch the bag, when he destroys her current wish and what she thought was a mutual primary goal by telling her to keep away from them. Maybe he sees her expression fall, and her shoulders sag as if she's nearly about to plop back onto the ground with palpable disappointment.
But he's swift to restore things once he changes his mind! Up she goes again. There's no particular sign she minds him when he mispronounces her nickname, but inwardly, private, she's chuckling. Tail waving more might be a decent indicator. Since she is Amy, friend found, she gives no reluctance this time when she clamps her teeth onto the bag, only tugging gingerly to start to either fish it out of his arms, or tear a hole into it.
It's fine, isn't it? Sharing was the intention all along, right?]
no subject
Aww--
[Fortunately, it doesn't last long. Cool dog is wagging his tail again! Good. he can spare like one marshmallow for cool dog. Amy won't be mad. Probably. How could Amy be mad at this cool, cool dog?]
Okay, okay-- hahaha, don't rip it! I only have one bag. Here--
[He crouches down to unknot the bag. A sweet smell blooms out of the interior, and it gets better when Andy jostles the side of the bag. Not that he has to: the bag is stuffed full of--
Well, they're close to marshmallows, puffed and airy and wonderful. More organic than true marshmallows, sized somewhere between jumbo marshmallows and mini marshmallows. Andy scoops out a handful and holds it out to cool dog.]
Bone appetite!
no subject
There is a split second where she stares in what probably amounts to admiration at the handful he's offering her, and rather than reaching forward to slip one away from him, she cants her head completely to one side, the whites of her uppermost eye showing for this short duration, while she pushes her muzzle into the small mound of marshmallow-like goodies on his hand, causing some to tumble.
Greedily, she's tries to get as many as she can into the wide opening of the side of her mouth versus the front of it, and when she does come away, for a moment, part of the skin of her muzzle is swollen with the marshmallow's she's taken from him. It evens out when she tosses her head up to smack them, chewing and chewing, teeth stretching out the gooey insides, a half-bitten one falling to the ground. She starts out sitting, head up, then stands to hang her head, still with that focused chewing, sugary puffs hanging and squashed under and among her fangs.
They take awhile longer to get down than anything else she's had, but they're sweet, and she likes them. Thus, of course, she's quick to start scouring the ground for dropped bits once she's gotten most of them down.]
no subject
[With a laugh, Andy crashes onto his butt on the ground. The sack of marshmallows falls half-open from the impact, but he pays it no mind. Way too busy watching this cool dog vacuum up the last bits of marshmallow.
He reaches out to pat the dog on the shoulder, give it a good scratch. This dog is too cool to round on Andy and bite his hand or anything.]
Man, you're a good dog. Okay, okay-- you can have a few more. You win--
[He reaches over to the sack to get another handful of marshmallows for the cool dog.]
Just don't tell Amy, okay? Even if I think she'd be cool with it. She seems cool. And you're a pretty cool dog, huh? Probably one of the best dogs here. Man, I could feed you marshmallows all day. Uh, and dog food. Responsibility. But mostly marshmallows.
no subject
He distracts her from those messy mama's smooches by another handful of these wonderfully, sweet treats, and again, she's gobbling them up. Sitting while she gets this batch down, she cants one of her ears back, huffing heavily, considering that he might be hurt if he thinks Amy didn't come to meet him after planning to share his bounty of marshmallows with her. With guilty whine, she comes up again to invade his space, trying to paw at him.
Even she isn't sure what good this will do, this it's me, it's me, I'm Amy.
Issun would probably tell her this is what she gets for cheat—
Oh! Of course, the phone! Whimpers coming out in rapid persistence, she's practically clambering onto him, snout trying to find where he's stored his phone, if he brought it at all. She has no pockets, see, which is why she forgets about it all the time. Leaving it in her mouth makes her want to crunch it. Typing is such a nuisance, and she hates to make people wait on her, but it would clear things up, wouldn't it?]
no subject
Hey-- hey, what's up? Huh? Did the marshmallows go bad, or--
[He rubs at the dog's side with one hand and tries to raise his other hand to sniff at his palm, but the dog is right in his face again, and his hand is sticky and he almost gets his palm stuck to his nose with dog slobber and ground up marshmallows, and then the dog is sniffing at the rest of him and Andy leans back to give her space, trying to remember if he has like, bacon in his pocket, or something. Does he? He doesn't, no way. He'd have eaten pocket bacon already.]
You want to see what I've got in my pockets? It's not as cool as marshmallows, promise. Um--
[With his free hand, Andy turns out one pocket.]
A button, a cool feather... a Paunch Burger punch card, but that's useless now, unless someone opens a franchise here... and in my other pocket, um-- a pick, and my phone, annnnnd this cool little knife I found. See? No marshmallows. Sorry.
no subject
When his phone finally makes an appearance, she hops to all fours to give a single, excitable yap—rare sound, and then it occurs to her that nothing here will make for a good typing tool. It's not as if she brought a stick either, which also isn't the most ideal, but it's better than nothing.
After a short puff from her nose, she snatches the phone up, taking great care to not clamp her teeth too tightly around it, lest she crack the screen like hers. She tries to give him an apologetic glance, something to indicate she's borrowing it and she'll return, but it probably just seems as if she's stolen it from him, because off she goes, trotting swiftly into the crowd to find an instrument to use against the buttons.]
no subject
[Andy stares after the dog for a second, then scrambles to get all his stuff put back into his pockets. It's not easy. He actually has a lot of stuff, and it doesn't easily fit, and then he's got to stand up again.]
Wait, wait, wait, I need that! Aww, man--not again--
[He loops the open end of the bag of marshmallows around his wrist to cinch it off, craning his neck to keep the dog in sight--which is still a cool dog, even if it stole his marshmallows--and then goes off in pursuit, ducking around other people in the market. He hits a few of them with the bag in passing, prompting a wake of irritated huffs and a few outbursts, but he has a mission: phone.]
Here boy! Heeere boy! Come on, come on--
no subject
They're never happy about it, but she's a wolf, not a dog. She needs to make it around quickly, okay?
At last, she finds a vendor selling stationery products. She stops at one side of the owners display, waits for him to be distracted with a sale, then drops the phone next to a canister of pencils. She nudges it down with an obvious clatter, pencils rolling, grabs one, throws it back to her molars, then gets the phone again. By the time she's standing on all fours, glancing around to make certain Andy isn't lost, the seller is shouting his own, angry Hey!s at her, and trying to lean over the side of the vendor to scruff her.
Her posture appears oblivious to the man's dismay, brightly wagging her tail while she turns her head to look about.]