it's pouring, the trees are getting greener before my eyes,

[illuminating]

Who: amaterasu (illuminating) & open.
What: catch-all.
When: complete month of december.
Where: wyver & olympia, but we could do between these places, too.
Warning(s): will add if anything comes up.


(this post is 110% open to anyone who'd like to do anything with it, whether we have established cr, or discussed things or not. all the prompts are open, but if you would like something specific, feel free to reach me to request something. i can be found by pm or sleepiest for any hashing out of things. i will also eventually be including celebration things in this post later in the month, if you want to do something, but want to wait until then. thank you very much!)




week one: wyver.

[In the entirety of the first week, Amaterasu can be found anywhere within Wyver. She isn't difficult to miss being a white wolf, or something like that, or is she merely a massive dog? More than this, though, she has no timidity in coming up to people or getting into things. This is, after all, why she's staying for a little while. At this point, she's probably met virtually everyone in Olympia, and she won't miss the opportunity to make friends with the natives or other refugees alike.

Some of the easier places or points to find her are:

a] in the Fields of the Exalted. Who knows if she has an official position there, but she seems to like to go, and she seems to... for lack of better description, baby the dragons. It took less than a day to earn most of their trust, but she's still working on it with some of the more stubborn ones. Maybe you work there, too, or maybe you've wandered into the wrong area, or are just plum curious. The sight you're likeliest to see is her casually passing by some of the larger dragons lounging in the field, a hatchling clinging to her shoulders, hanging off one side of her with curled tail, about the size of the cat. It's trilling in a gurgling way argumentatively, and with confidence enough it won't hurt her, you might hear her respond with stern, open-mouthed groans that are edging on weary growls.

The scaly infant huffs, and hisses, and trills petulantly, crawling up her back with claws smashing one of her ears against her head, and this is where it drapes its self to lay down, its little head bobbing on top of hers. She's obviously distracted, and won't stop unless someone bothers to get her attention.

b] In the main parts of the city, moving from person to person she passes to get to know them. Through sniffing, and happy pats, and tail wagging. Some smile but don't touch her, some can't get enough of ruffling her fur, and some even spare her treats. Perhaps you're the next person she's trotting up to, as if this is just a day in the life, going from one person after the other, not able to speak Hello, hello, hello but exuding such an aura all the same. Maybe you catch her up to mischief—nosing around in someone's sack to steal a bite or two of their food, or unconcerned, jumping in through a window someone's left open, the light clatters of her knocking things over soon following behind her vanished form. There's chance you'll see the strange occurrence of her pausing near some of the foliage, and a full-bloomed flower pop into thrilled life, before she's moving on. A coincidence, a cursed plant? Odds are, if you're able to see her true shape, you'll know she painted it into existence.

She can also be found—or frankly, coming up to greet you—in literally any of the other areas available in Wyver. It's her personality and nature to go anywhere she can reach, and sit with and listen to as many people as she can. Nothing is off limits.]

week two: olympia.

[The second week, when she returns to Olympia to assist in getting things relatively back to normal, her visit is largely more focused. She's only found in one of three places: visiting patients or anyone else at the Sanctuary, sleeping outside of the Sanctuary, or roaming amid the damage.

Most notably, if you're there too, helping clean up, not unlike her sprouting flowers in the sake of it, you might catch sight of her stopping near some of the rubble, and mysteriously a corner of a vendor cart or building or a gap in the path will, just like that!, be restored to new. If you are only able to see the simple wolf, this will come with no explanation, perhaps also, just peculiar coincidence. But, of course, if you're able to her markings, the feathers at her ankles and shoulders that shouldn't be on a wolf, that ever-present glow that never seems to fade, the mirror swirling in fire and hovering over her back—then it's just as well you'll be able to take note of the deliberate swishing of tail, the ink (yes! can you believe?) dripping off her tail, and the inexplicable way the celestial paint that comes from her appears over these broken parts, then brings them all perfectly back together again.

It is, be aware, only restoration here and there, parts of things to contribute to the whole of the thing being fixed or mended. She is no longer powerful enough to bring a whole building lying in smithereens back to its complete shape. But bit by bit, or wherever someone else seems to be having trouble, she'll try to make it easier, to put herself to whatever little use she can.]

(ending off to say that wildcards are always welcome.)

Comments

wyver b

[exaomori]

[Getting up early to test out her new throwing knives was a pain, but it should have guaranteed Shura a bit of uninterrupted time in the jungle.

It's that quiet stillness of the early morning that makes her feel comfortable leaving the bag holding the bread she had brought for breakfast and a few silver by a nearby tree. At this time of day, most scavengers weren't going to be desperate enough to try and steal breakfast from a predator her size Or maybe there was something that bold in the forest, since Shura doesn't have her back turned for more than a couple seconds when she hears something creeping up and rustling through the bag.]

Hey, get out of there!

[Whipping around, it hits her that this isn't a small jungle critter. No, it's a wolf--more than that, actually. She hadn't heard anything about white wolves in the jungle, let alone one with red markings like that. Some kind of demon, maybe? At least she kept Fang in its scabbard at her side!]

[illuminating]

[Without any particular energy emitting away from the poor young lady she's... (Ammy, please, let's face it) robbing, the god rummaging through Shura's pack doesn't feel much concern one way or the other. It takes her a moment, too, face almost fully shoved into the bag, it scooting along the ground with the nudging of her nose, which is temporarily overwhelmed by scents in the bag alone.

Not a tame thing whatever, she only spares her the briefest glance, one of her ears cocking back, and continues with what she's doing. Don't worry, though, Shura, she intends to leave some. It just smells too nice. In the next second, she's finally taking backward steps to draw her muzzle out, and a quarter of the bread is caged in her teeth, partly hanging free. At least, it isn't the whole thing.

Now that the air can get to her, those demonic traces hit her. Not auras, where it'd be worrisome, but something left over. And at first, she does bristle, but catches the growl before it forms into the audible, it doesn't get to go from belly to throat, and into gums. Wolf stares her dead on though, the only concern finding her is to wonder if Shura's fallen in with a bad group, if whoever she's been spending time with is taking advantage of her.

Ah, that thought seems to make her face her own bottomless pit of a stomach kind of gluttony, and she gives a short whine, an argument with herself, because usually, once she has food, she does not want to give it up, but Shura will find her slowly, making a whole to do over it, lower to the bag, and open her mouth to let the piece she took roll off her tongue and back inside. Gross, right? It's the first time she's ever returned food, for what it's worth.

—But! She really wanted a bite of it. Shura! What in the heavens are you doing hanging around with demons? All these complaining dramatics aren't verbalized, but are vocalized as she flops to lay out long on her side, the bag just a little ways under her jaw, and she paws it pitifully, as if to say, it's not fair.]

[exaomori]

[Of course it smells nice, it was just freshly made this morning, you freaking dog! Shura's quick to slip a knife between her finger, ready to send it flying. Not directly at the wolf--it wasn't that big of a weapon to begin with and wouldn't do much damage, but just as a friendly warning. She could go without breakfast, but losing the silver would be a pain. But the wolf is pulling out of the bag, and somehow she's managed to only take a chunk out, though maybe that explains the way she seems to tense and that glare on her face. Scary. Shura's fought bigger creatures, and she's prepared to draw Fang if she needs to defend herself. A hungry creature didn't take well to be startled, after all.

There are a few things Shura expects to happen--a stand off between them, maybe the wolf would flee with her bite, and maybe (hopefully not) she would lunge at her. She is not expecting the creature to just give up and drop the food and flop over like it just experienced some horrible loss. Not after that build up. Even a well trained dog would have difficulty letting go of stolen food.

The tension falls from Shura's shoulders with a sigh, and she shakes head head as she approaches the wolf and her bag. The knife is sheathed in its pocket as she stands in front of the wolf, resting her hands on her hips.]

Jeez, you shouldn't mope like that just cause you got caught.

[Was she someone's pet? It was a possibility. Or maybe just a spirit friendly to humans. Whatever she was, she didn't seem to be a threat, so Shura feels comfortable enough, dropping down to sit beside her. Taking her bag and setting it to the opposite side of her, away from the greedy dog, seems like the best plan. But since Shura's not about to eat a piece of bread covered in drool, she'll pick the torn piece of bread out between her thumb and forefinger, laying it in front of the wolf's mouth.]

May as well let you have it.

[And Shura may as well take a break for a snack, even if she has to tear off another chunk of the bread to make sure she isn't going to ingest wolf spit.]

[illuminating]

[While Shura relaxes, Amaterasu hums out groans from her dejected position, but her tail lazily wags when she speaks to her. As she approaches to collect her bag, golden eyes follow her keenly, and by the time Shura's sitting beside her, she shifts her weight to put her stomach on the ground, and rests the bottom of her head over her paws.

Her ears prick at the offering of the morsel she nearly stole, and in the middle of Shura saying she should just have it, she's... inhaled it.

But Shura will discover that she's sitting up now, tail swiping over dirt and grass, and tilting her head almost completely to the right at her, as if to say, thank you; that was delicious; could I have another?]

[exaomori]

[wow you glutton, don't choke!!

The way the wolf just swallows that chunk of bread whole without a second had Shura staring at her, shaking her head. And here she is, sitting up and begging for me. What a shameless animal.]

You're gonna choke if you don't chew, doofus.

[Sure, the wolf probably knows what it's doing, but jeez. It was good bread, it should be savored just a little?? Shura sounds almost affectionate as she says it, reaching out to poke the creature right on the nose. This wasn't a dog, but it sure wasn't a normal wolf looking at her like this. Too friendly, too cute. It's enough to convince Shura to tear off a little more than she has to when she's taking off the wolf-spoiled part of the loaf. It means she only gets half her planned breakfast, but that was enough to tide her over for a bit. This time, she'll be sure to tear it into three separate pieces before setting it on the ground in front of the wolf.]

[illuminating]

[The tidbit of fond inflection in Shura's voice causes the wolf's tail to swing more adamantly, a muted way of trying to get this same sentiment back to her. She tucks her ears, and softens her eyes to almost slits, smiling dopily for the poke to her nose, that gentle kind of teasing, not minding in the least but rather, almost, welcoming. Playfulness is such a good way to bond.

And as she tears more pieces of bread, Amaterasu vibrates with thankful, eager whimpers, all of her attention glued to the placement of each three, wriggling like a child on a sugar rush. The only reason she's able to chew these bites, are because when she flops down with legs laying at either side of the short row, she scoops them all up one after the other without any space between gathering the next, and this leaves her with no time to toss the soft, little pieces down to her gullet.

She lies on the grown, chin tilted up, to messily smack-smack-smack the newer pieces Shura's just offered her with intensity. She... really loves food. By the time they're gone, she sneezes delicately, then hops to all fours to sniff around for anything missed, licking—look, she's not human, all right?—the ground if anything smells good or interesting. Once she's satisfied she's cleared it away, she approaches Shura completely, not only tail wagging, but the entirety of her, her ears folded down passively to her head again, muzzle invading her space to get to know her.

It's a true kindness to forgive someone who was stealing from you moments ago and share with them.]

wyver a.

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket is not having nearly as much luck with the baby dragons, which is to be expected since he came here to see Ammy, not them, and they're really a side effect. While the one on her back curls up, he has a hanger-on that keeps following behind them as they walk, trying to pounce on his swishing tail, and backing away every time either Ammy or Rocket scold it.

But clearly it's a glutton for punishment because as soon as the two of them are distracted, it gets bolder and it WILL DEFINITELY CATCH THE FURRY THING THIS TIME!!

And he does. By grabbing at the end of Rocket's tail with his sharp little teeth, sending a jolt up Rocket's cybernetic spine that makes his fur stand on end. The bigger dragons around them keep him from hauling off and punching the little thing in the head, which might seriously hurt it, but when he speaks to Ammy, it's through gritted teeth.] Make it let go before I do something stupid. [And then adds, with teeth-gritted petulance:] Please.

[illuminating]

[Having Rocket visit with her only makes her day better, and she can't help but feel enormous thankfulness to him for not giving up immediately. It says a great deal for him to weather these bratty dragon kids in order to see her, and it definitely doesn't go without notice.

She stops when he speaks, already hearing that edge that doesn't seem to wane in his voice, and takes steps back in order to turn and look at him. The dragon holding onto her has a sprained wing, which is why she's not complaining about his preference for staying on her back. She had been on her way to take him back to the Nursery, and would come gather the healthier bunch afterward. He protests when she moves, and slinks down her back, as if he can't get comfortable, but drapes again like a scaly blanket, and refuses to leave her.

She does not look pleased with Rocket's little fan at all, but for a part of a moment, it seems as if she'll do nothing. But this is the first time the young dragon has caught what he was after, and babies rarely know how hard is too hard in the beginning. Diplomatic as she is, she's willing with it, as with anyone else, to give it the chance to learn before she has to get drastic.

Instead of directly interfering, she squares her eyes on Rocket's and produces a short whine. It means: he's got to yelp, or whine, or cry out somehow, so they baby gets the idea. Better, even, if he makes it sound worse than it is.]

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket hisses through his teeth at her expression, because the way he wants to cry out is in anger, and he's smart enough to know that will provoke aggression and god only knows they don't need a baby dragon growing into something that can pick fights with whatever it wants.

He winces again as the baby dragon bites down harder, trying to decide how it feels about the texture of this wriggly furry thing. He glares back at it, he looks at Ammy... he looks back at the dragon.

He makes the most overwrought, delayed reaction yell of pain ever.] Ow. Ow. My tail. It hurts so much. Why would you do this? [In addition to those theatrics he flops over on his side, prompting the dragon to release him in fear and shock, turning its gaze to Ammy as if to beg her forgiveness.

Rocket remains on the ground, figuring if nothing else, he's going to guilt the little shit, and take some of his pride back.]

[illuminating]

[Wow, Rocket. You really know how to commit.

Ammy sets her teeth, as though what feels like a laugh swelling inside her could actually get free. It's all very similar to parents trying to keep their cool when teaching a toddler they can't say a swear. Mostly, above all, she watches on with immense pride in Rocket for staying calm under pressure, and giving this dealing with an annoyance a different alternative. It's a sign of growth—though, she never doubted he could grow in the first place, or particularly hoped for it. She's always liked him just as he is, but people and raccoons alike continue to amaze her.

When the guilty dragon looks to her, she replies back through the eyes with something both stern and soft. An unspoken, See? We've got to be careful with our friends. It's astonishing, being what she is, the amount she can get across to other creatures aside from humans with the subtle placement and expression of the eyes.

Rocket's commotion, however, has stirred the attention of a few of the adults, whose enormous heads have all lifted from their sunbathing to look over. Amaterasu doesn't budge, or flinch, or even glance back to check for danger. Her guard is completely down, and with some hope, this will clue Rocket into not being worried either. And while she doesn't bother to turn to them, she does take careful steps nearer to him, little dragon on her back adjusting for likely the fifth time to lay across the stretch of her back, and only in case any of the pricklier adult dragons decide to come over.

After a moment, one does approach with slow steps. The biological mother of the one who'd just been picking on Rocket, her large, scaled muzzle coming down to blow air on wolf and Rocket both, but Ammy only wags her tail as if dealing with anyone else. Dragon mother, convinced Rocket is seriously hurt as he's just... lying there, moves onto her little one next, puffing a harsher air over him, and then produces guttural growl to communicate with him. It is, after all, her responsibility even more than the pair who've been looking after him to teach him not to let his roughhousing go overboard.]

[beatupgrass]

[For all that Rocket is an aggressive creature with an intellect and pride that rivals that of most naturally sapient beings, he has the instincts of a small animal that is both predator to some and prey to others, which means that when allowed to run amok, his animal hindbrain can produce some not so pleasant reactions.

Which means that rather than leaping up and allowing the mama dragon to see that he's fine and stubbornly declaring that her little whelp couldn't best him, he remains lying there, playing dead, every muscle in his body tensing as the dragon blows air on him. Part of him isn't entirely sure she isn't going to see a "dead" thing and decide not to waste food, but she moves on and he allows himself to relax and get back onto his knees so he can access the slobber and disarray done to his tail- the only true victim in this.]

I ain't ever gonna get used t' this. [He mutters sullenly, rubbing his tail with both hands to get the fur back in place.]

[illuminating]

[Honestly, if Amaterasu had any idea Rocket, instincts or not, would think she'd allow a dragon to eat him, she'd be really hurt. For what he says, once he's able to sit up, she cants her head at him with faint concern, and slowly sets down herself. Irritable, and uncomfortable, the little baby on her back crawls down to the earth, vocalizing his dissatisfaction.

But only Rocket has Ammy's attention. Would he like her to escort him to the exit?, by way of questioning half-whimper. She dips her head down to groom his tail fur down in place, too, thinking nothing of it, of course. It does make her happy to have him here, but she wouldn't sacrifice his comfort just for that sake.]

olympia!

[fisherwife]

[Mipha herself doesn't feel like she can do enough. She's in the Sanctuary as often as she can, since her healing magic is best utilized there, but sometimes she does her best to help out with the damages done to the town itself. She's not particularly handy, but she has a base idea of what to do and didn't mind hauling things where it needed to be or handing out water to the workers.

It's how she recognizes the strangely-patterned wolf and its comings and goings, the strange coincidences of repairs that seemed to happen when it was around and...well, everything else about the wolf that made her exotic and strange.. The patients all seemed to like her (claiming it a 'pretty white wolf' with no mention of the red or anything else, which was interesting in and of itself), so Mipha never felt inclined to bother Ammy or anything like that.

But she has some extra food--some kind of meat skewer she'd nabbed earlier--and water, and surely the wolf deserves a break and some food too as much as anyone else. She pauses to watch the wheel of a struggling vendor's cart be suddenly fixed when he turns away an smiles to herself. Found her!!]

Excuse me? [She approaches Ammy carefully, hoping she really was as friendly as she's heard]

[illuminating]

[It isn't always necessary to stay behind to see if those she's helped have noticed her handiwork. When the incident that caused this destruction around them happened, she was helping then too. When she cleaved a stand in half, one Lance struggled to lift on his own, to let out the man pinned underneath, it was Lance and Lance alone who was generously thanked. Not a second glance spared her way.

None of this discourages her, or keeps her from what she can do, since the importance of it is the almost guardian angel-like aspect of it. Answering manageable, small, unspoken—perhaps even un-thought—prayers. Helping, restoring faith, if not in her directly, then at least in the eventuality of goodness. Not doing it in expectation of receiving praise or payment. She's not that way, and never has been. Because of all this, soon as the wheel is repaired, man still turned away, she turns from him as well, head held high to scan around for someone else to aid, and it's at this point that she hears her.

At first, she doesn't realize Mipha's addressing her, and only one ear flicks in casual curiosity back to her, while nose twitches in opposite direction. The first thing to occur to her is she might be catching the beginnings of someone asking another person for help (people aren't always polite with her—or speak to her at all, though they mean well), and it would be felicitous to eavesdrop in order to potentially give them an extra boost. Mipha's looking at her, though—right? isn't she?—when she turns to her, and wolf briefly tilts her head in question, glancing to the left then right to be certain.

Oh! Inner, unheard, lighthearted laughter here. She is speaking to her; and Amaterasu's lower teeth loosen in telling canine's smile, her ears dipping as she steps toward her, tail swaying. This is a familiar person, come to think of it, though she doesn't think they've actually had opportunity to spend real time together yet.]

[fisherwife]

[Mipha is patient and quiet and still--there's no need to rush or force some kind of meeting. She's not sure if Ammy is more animal than humanoid, someone 'cursed' or able to shapehisft like Mephisto, or anything like that, so she doesn't want to jump to conclusions.

The patience pays off, however, and she smiles when the wolf turns and acknowledges her.]

Hello. I hope I am not interrupting you or keeping you from something more important. [She looks at the meat skewer in her hands and then back to Ammy before holding it out to her.] I simply wanted to thank you, that's all. Are you hungry?

[illuminating]

[Ah! This cute girl is here to thank her and offer her something nice to eat. From the gratitude she feels in return to this, her ears go lower, and a small whine stretches out of her, unspoken appreciation. She's always happy to meet someone new and share food.

Rather than snatching it from her hands as she might if she's trying to take food before someone's noticed, she's careful with teeth and fingers clasping skewer. First licking off a few tastes, then gingerly pinching one cube of meat to try and pull it free.]

[fisherwife]

I'll take that as a yes. [She laughs softly and smiles as she holds the skewer still, trying to tug it back a little to help her slip the meat cube off.]

You've been working very hard, haven't you? I've never seen magic like you're capable of. It's quite impressive.

wyver b

[earthy]

[Terra's on his way out of the city for a late morning training session in the jungle when he spots Wolf mingling with the locals.

It takes him all of a couple seconds to decide his training can wait a while.

He jogs over to Wolf... or to where Wolf was moments ago. He's just in time to watch her bound through an open window nearby, into some building. Wait, what? That's not Wolf's home, is it?

Terra hurries to the window and peeks in.]

Wolf?

[Wolf?? What are you doing in there?]

[illuminating]

[The recognition of his voice has the open sides to her ears swiveling backward to face him, but she doesn't lift her head, sniffing along the floor, bumping into chairs that either shift with a dull screech or wobble slightly with her nudging around. If he dares to look in further, he'll discover that she's in the dining space, or a little kitchen nook to whoever's home this is—and there are dirty plates, and a few dirty bowls left on the table.

Why leave them? Maybe the family was in a hurry, maybe someone's still here in another room?

Whatever the case, Wolf doesn't seem to be thinking about it, as there go her large paws, planting on table top to get a better whiff of what's up here. In the next second, she's hopped up onto the table, all fours, to lick at some of the left over food stained on a plate, which, of course, slides along with the unintentional pushing of tongue and snout, before finally shattering against the floor. She drops to sit on the table, pinning her ears at it, as if surprised by this accident, and she is, but the remains smell too good, and she's turning already to go for another plate.]

[earthy]

[This might be why the Master never let us have pets, Terra realizes distantly as he watches Wolf jump right on up onto some strangers' kitchen table and help herself to meal leftovers someone carelessly left out.

Seriously, who leaves dirty dishes on the table... and with a big window open nearby? That's just asking for bugs or birds or... wolves, apparently.

At the sound of footsteps behind him, Terra spins around and draws himself up to his full height to try and block a local's view of the window as they pass by. Nothing to see here, miss, nothing at all... Pay no attention to the sound of... kitchenware shattering...

As soon as the local's disappeared around a corner, Terra pivots back around and leans in over the sill. He hesitates for a moment longer, but he really doesn't have a choice here, does he? Into the house he goes.]

Wolf! Hey... Hey, you shouldn't... just... I don't think this is your house! [He holds out a hand in a vaguely halting gesture.] Look, if you're hungry, I can get you some food? Something better than... scraps...?

wyver b

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Welp.

Settling has been... a thing. Peter's used to technology, and while this planet hasn't lacked for it, it's not what he's used to. Magic, instead of electricity. Steam in place of fuel.

It's weird. And kind of cool? But still kind of weird.

He's still getting the lay of the land, wandering the city when he needs some alone time (and he needs it often, given how much he still has to sort through his memories and come to terms with all the shit he remembers happening before arriving here). He's passing by some food vendors when he sees a familiar flash of white and crimson, and—

Okay. This place was already lousy with plantlife, but there definitely weren't flowers in the space in front of Amaterasu before, but there are now, and what the hell? ]

—Was that you?

[illuminating]

[It's as if the flowers, who burst into life without buds, without needing to take days to unfurl, are smiling at wolf and wolf is smiling back, but familiar voice soon draws her attention away. She faces him, ears pricking, and eyes lighting up, her tail going to air.

Hello, Peter, she says, emitting sunny gladness, and trotting a few steps to some sparse leaves. A moment later she's painted a vibrancy of new flowers into complete life here too, and they bob with her passing, clustered together with imaginary giggles.

When she goes for blooming a third inflorescence, she answers, plainly, It was me.]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Yeah, okay, he’s seeing that, even without the benefit of her saying so.

He watches, eyes wide, as the third cluster of plants burst to life. It’s cool, admittedly, and he huffs out a disbelieving sort of laugh. ]

How are you doing that?

[ Which seems the more apt question, now. ]

[illuminating]

[While she could do more, she can always come back to them. He's here now, so she finally stops, and lumbers over to him. Those who can't hear her, which is anyone else on the street with them, at the food stands, passing them by, only see a dopey looking too-big dog with her heavy head, drooping her ears, smiling with short puffs as she goes to the man speaking to her.

Her tail picks up speed once she's next to him, spurred by instinctual, genuine happiness.

How am I— she's a little surprised that he doesn't realize, but he is only part god. Maybe some things don't reach him, such as the astral plane, of which she can pull out that Celestial scroll to tend to these kinds of things.

I'm painting them, she continues, turning to have her curved side facing him, and trying to more deliberately show her tail, but it keeps swinging around. Just like any other animal, it has a mind of its own sometimes. She pins her ears and groans at it.

Are you able to see the ink? tilting face at him, Although, it's not just any ink. It's Celestial, and also a considerable part of my livelihood.

Some does drip on the ground, as happens, but it vanishes, she tends to leave speckles of it after herself, he'll eventually notice the more time he spends with her—if he can see the ink stained and dripping off her tail like a paint brush.

It would be more correct, she finishes up, to say that it's painting them into life and also encouraging them, or asking them to wake up. Those flowers are of these plants, nothing unusual to them.]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter can’t quite help the grin that works its way onto his face, once she moves over to him, looking every bit like she’s honestly happy to see him. (He can hardly imagine why, considering they’ve only met the one time.) Maybe he’d be more self-conscious about conversing to her openly on the street if he remembered that she wasn’t really talking-talking, but talking in his head. It doesn’t really occur to him that he might look like a crazy person, actively questioning a white, fluffy wolf in the middle of the street.

... Granted, to Peter, it’s a white, fluffy wolf with red markings and feathers. Frankly, if Peter were paying more attention to his surroundings, he’d think everyone else was crazy for not taking more note of Amaterasu, hanging out in the middle of the city.

She explains and turns, and Peter peers at her wagging tail, eyes narrowing at her direction. And— okay, he barely sees it, now that he’s actively looking for it. Just a shadow of something dark and dripping; hazy, like his brain can’t quite decide if it’s actually there or not. He shakes his head a little, looking back at her.

There’s a certain edge of wariness in his voice when he speaks: ]

So, they’re, um...

[ ... how does he ask this? He examines the patch of flowers Amaterasu’s coaxed into life, or however she’s described it, and they look normal enough, but— ]

They’re... just plants, right? Nothing else?

[ Ego didn’t have the Celestial ink, or whatever the hell, but he did have a habit of leaving behind fancy flowers on planets he visited, too. To really shitty effect. ]