the updog (
brushy) wrote in
deercountry2022-05-09 04:25 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
the sun rises (ota)
Who: amaterasu & you! (and some closed prompts)
What: mostly the blooming of the guardian saplings in their designated locations; refer to the page! also a reminder to check ammy's info page regarding her appearance to your character, if you already haven't!
When: throughout may
Where: arouuuuuu--
Content Warnings: plant body horror + harm being done to an animal in one of the closed prompts, monster body horror for anyone who wants to tag with their monster dreams!
[ during the first few daylights of may, amaterasu is diligently at work; she trots almost nonstop left and right to visit the small, green little saplings that would become strong with the sun. it's always so cloudy in trench though, even if daylight is finally upon them after an entire month of darkness. on the morning of the eighth, there is something different about this sunrise; a distant wolf's howl accompanies its ascension as the rays shower trench in a way it possibly never has. it's warm, welcoming, and wishes a brilliant day to all of those who greet it (especially mothers— she's only now just found out about mother's day).

at the locations of the Mental Health and Recovery Clinic, Trenchwood Farm, The Sanctuary and Farther Shores, one may either see the phenomena happening or be drawn to the blooms already in full: the once hardworking greenlings have grown unreasonably fast into reaching trees, bark and all. they're missing something— until it happens. an unseen force encourages them to bloom, and in an instant, the cherry blossoms burst with life, with energy and a powerful, energetic kick into the polluted soil its roots bury in. it doesn't stretch far, but it helps, and it tries its best to maintain the soil and water around it clean and purified. those sensitive to the supernatural will feel a palpable lift in the pollution where these trees are situated, that they are of great origin, important, sacred. animals will naturally be drawn to them, and so will people. for their beauty, for their shelter, and of course, for their purity and bridge to being closer to nature. even those who are not supernaturally inclined will undoubtedly feel at peace under these gentle giants. what's not to feel peaceful about, viewing the cherry blossoms gently hovering in the breeze that greets you under the shady branches?
you might even be there to catch the sight of a white wolf admiring her handiwork. or, perhaps . . . that's not a wolf at all. a woman, a little rabbit, or even a snow-white horse (or, is that . . . a dragon?). it's hard to tell with this shapeshifting blanket she was given, and amaterasu has delighted herself in bringing it everywhere for its comfort (you can tell; it's already pretty dirty, but it's not as if she cares). ]
(ooc: just as a note, amaterasu can either come in her regular wolf-shape or a temporary form, either human, statue or one of the other brush gods! please let me know if you have a preference, to maintain or shapeshift (and the desired shape, if any)! if there is no preference, i will randomize! hmu at @liberos.plurk if you would like to plot further!)
What: mostly the blooming of the guardian saplings in their designated locations; refer to the page! also a reminder to check ammy's info page regarding her appearance to your character, if you already haven't!
When: throughout may
Where: arouuuuuu--
Content Warnings: plant body horror + harm being done to an animal in one of the closed prompts, monster body horror for anyone who wants to tag with their monster dreams!
[ during the first few daylights of may, amaterasu is diligently at work; she trots almost nonstop left and right to visit the small, green little saplings that would become strong with the sun. it's always so cloudy in trench though, even if daylight is finally upon them after an entire month of darkness. on the morning of the eighth, there is something different about this sunrise; a distant wolf's howl accompanies its ascension as the rays shower trench in a way it possibly never has. it's warm, welcoming, and wishes a brilliant day to all of those who greet it (especially mothers— she's only now just found out about mother's day).

at the locations of the Mental Health and Recovery Clinic, Trenchwood Farm, The Sanctuary and Farther Shores, one may either see the phenomena happening or be drawn to the blooms already in full: the once hardworking greenlings have grown unreasonably fast into reaching trees, bark and all. they're missing something— until it happens. an unseen force encourages them to bloom, and in an instant, the cherry blossoms burst with life, with energy and a powerful, energetic kick into the polluted soil its roots bury in. it doesn't stretch far, but it helps, and it tries its best to maintain the soil and water around it clean and purified. those sensitive to the supernatural will feel a palpable lift in the pollution where these trees are situated, that they are of great origin, important, sacred. animals will naturally be drawn to them, and so will people. for their beauty, for their shelter, and of course, for their purity and bridge to being closer to nature. even those who are not supernaturally inclined will undoubtedly feel at peace under these gentle giants. what's not to feel peaceful about, viewing the cherry blossoms gently hovering in the breeze that greets you under the shady branches?
you might even be there to catch the sight of a white wolf admiring her handiwork. or, perhaps . . . that's not a wolf at all. a woman, a little rabbit, or even a snow-white horse (or, is that . . . a dragon?). it's hard to tell with this shapeshifting blanket she was given, and amaterasu has delighted herself in bringing it everywhere for its comfort (you can tell; it's already pretty dirty, but it's not as if she cares). ]
(ooc: just as a note, amaterasu can either come in her regular wolf-shape or a temporary form, either human, statue or one of the other brush gods! please let me know if you have a preference, to maintain or shapeshift (and the desired shape, if any)! if there is no preference, i will randomize! hmu at @liberos.plurk if you would like to plot further!)
The Sanctuary - almost a week later?
[ He would have loved to see it, you know. The sun rising above the Trench in such a fashion and basking it in such hope. To see trees come to life in such a manner and purify even the blood-polluted ground beneath them. It would have been beautiful; a stunning display of hope even in a dark world. Exactly the sort of thing he believes in but so very rarely ever sees delivered upon and made reality.
Sadly, he was still somewhere deep in the ocean waiting to remember himself enough to come back ashore, in a place too dark for even that sort of sun to reach. But when the moon finally came out and he found his way back -- the place he drifted towards was her tree on the shore. Something he would have been so very grateful to Amaterasu for, not for himself but for the small comfort it had helped provide both for the friend waiting for him and his omen while he was gone. With everything going on, he hadn't quite thought to question why there was suddenly a cherry blossom tree in full bloom -- the first he's ever seen, actually -- but... it meant a lot, it being there. Spending time under it as some of his first moments after coming back from the dead.
So later, when he's trying to get used to his usual rounds in Crenshaw while now confined to doing them in a wheelchair while he tries to regain the use of his legs after death, a lingering complication or perhaps warning, he's a little surprised when Timcanpy suddenly goes still in mid-air, staring off at the old, abandoned monastery Allen's passed many times and only given the occasional quiet, somber kind of look. ]
Timcanpy? [ ? That isn't like his omen. It's even less like his omen when he turns and speeds off suddenly, darting inside the monastery like a faintly glowing, small golden rocket. ] Ah--! Wait!
[ Tim doesn't wait, and so Allen follows. A little sulkily at being left behind and wondering what's up with the sudden urgency of the golem, and carefully (slowly) makes his way into and through the main hall. It's not easy with as half-ruined as the place is but he's as determined as he is curious -- absolute trust in Tim always, after all, this has to be important -- and without becoming terribly lost or getting himself stuck... finally sees Timcanpy in the distance, hovering in the middle of what looks like an open courtyard ahead. ]
Tim? [ a small huff, edging through one of the archways ] What did you find--
[ He blinks. ]
-- oh. [ Oh. It's another one of of those trees, the same from the shoreline when Shouto found him. Almost exactly the same. Maybe it's... special, then? Because he can feel it, the calming and purifying aura. It's almost a little like his own Innocence, that gentle sort of cleansing feeling.
And it... it's green. This whole place is green and in bloom when... where else has he seen anything like it in the Trench? Where has he seen something like this at all outside of his memories from before?
Awestruck, he doesn't notice anything or anyone else at first other than the tree and the entire... everything of this place and its effect. ]
no subject
it now has a wonderful extension to socialize with. the guardian trees decorate it, and the rare, green grass of trench carpets it from front to back. even flowers, flowers have been planted around them, scattered in other spots wildly, but still vibrant and just as happy to be here. the sanctuary itself may even seem to be glowing from behind it, dawning a halo of light borrowed from the sun hidden in somewhat cloudy skies. it isn't until that light begins to shift, to move to the building's side and light the way of a beast's shadow. of pointed horns and wild tentacles slithering from its back, of four limbs, claws and terrible protrusions from its shoulders.
but that's just a shadow, and that frame grows smaller and smaller the closer the figure's true body approximates away from the building's wall and into the open: it is a wolf, white and ethereal, her fur pristine like the smell of heaven and her feathered joints soft like clouds. strokes of red dawn her fur, but they hardly read as imperfections, as blood— they are too perfect to be. where she stands, celestial flowers bloom to praise her. she has a mane of light that dances as wildly as the flames on her back do, spun on a disk that spewed the royal heat of the sun, but reflected every color the world could imagine.
she too, has an omen, what differentiates her from a citizen or a patron— it is a dolphin as white as her coat and sharing in her holy marks, gliding slowly through the air as if it were its wide-open ocean. it greets them before the wolf seems to; she regards them with a curious glance before honing her steps toward the tree. the dolphin whistles, turns onto its back and waves its fins as it follows her lead. ]
no subject
—actually, he thinks he says it aloud but he isn't sure. Even if he's more than a little startled when that shadow first appears stretches along one wall and he thinks beast, instantly on his guard and clenching the wheels of his chair tightly along with his jaw; grimly, realizing the timing is terrible. But it isn't, and then Amaterasu steps out and he takes a sharp breath.
For a moment... he has the distinct impression of -- something. Not a wolf, even as resplendent as she is. A figure; a woman. But it's the briefest impression more than anything he sees, something felt on the same primal level as his connection with the cross in his left hand, and easily brushed off as a trick of the eye in the kaleidoscope display of her fur that moves like white flame. So he's stunned to just watch as she only gives him a slight glance, flowers literally blooming under her paws.
-- it's like looking at the sun.
is... is this god? god actually exists? no, why is god a wolf? no, why does god have an omen
He blinks, hesitating. Does he... call out? She seems preoccupied with the tree, making no move to really acknowledge him, but... ]
Ah... hello? [ It's hesitant, but... he wheels himself a little closer, towards her and the tree. The magic of this sort of space, all of this life, and her appearance now, that gentle but fierce kind of aura she has... That's no coincidence, and he isn't stupid. ]
Did... you do this?
no subject
the thing is, why would a young man in a rolling chair immediately assume a wolf, or a dog, has planted these mammoth trees? they have never met, never spoken, she assumes she has never written him. amaterasu's ears perk high and triangular, and her attention, her own reaction is a complete switch compared to that of her arrival— she gives allen her full attention, no wandering eyes. they plant right on him, and almost immediately, she will lessen his need to wheel toward her, with the stream of blooms following her tracks.
no, no. you save your strength, boy. she didn't think that he would— for lack of better wording, perceive her. unfortunately, she cannot speak; in front of him, within an arm's reach now, she pads her paw in place, she opens her mouth, and relaxes it shut. she cannot speak, no, but she is reacting. she has the tools to communicate.
the omen fluctuating by her has no name; it is a fragment of her spirit's best, wild and playful and free, and it is the first one to hover close as if its eye was pressed to glass to see down a cup, and whistle, clicks to him. it relays what the wolf wishes to say, with a tilted head, waiting gaze, and female voice: ]
I did. Do you see me, boy?
no subject
There's a lot more fantastical about this than the fact this being is speaking to him through a floating spiritual dolphin. I mean really. ]
I do... [ Is he -- not supposed to? Are people in general not supposed to? Awe-touched, his gaze flickers between the flowers that have continued to bloom in her steps, the shifting cascade of flame-like light, and the curious and gentle sort of way she's regarding him. So close he could reach out and touch her if he wanted to, even though he doesn't.
Sleepers can recognize other Sleepers; something that's in their souls, in their blood. Everything in him just knows that, even without seeing her omen, but even despite all of that... ]
I'm sorry, but... who are you? You're not a Pthumerian... but you don't just seem like a Sleeper, either.
no subject
is she too far away? the wolf scoots her rump closer to her front paws and adjusts the distance accordingly. amaterasu knows all too well the eyes of a child who is still deciding if their fingers should be somewhere on her fur. they should, for the record, and from regal and fierce, the wolf seems impeccably friendly. in the eyes of a canine's fan, the amiable pant that births such a natural grin is irresistable.
the dolphin vocalizes a pulse, a bantering chitter, and then: ]
I'm flattered. I believe the term you are looking for may be "wolf", though? [ she thinks she's funny. but, this boy can see her. she will not beat around the bush. too much. ] Amaterasu. That is my name. And who are you, in such a fashionable sled?
[ "wheel-chair". ]
no subject
He's a little dumbfounded. If also enchanted when both wolf and dolphin draw closer, the omen dipping playfully around his chair. Is he dreaming? That's kind of what it feels like, so different from how dreary and dark the Trench usually is. Too bright and light and, well... good for just about anything he's used to in his entire life, frankly.
Timcanpy eagerly accepts the invitation to play while Allen stares slightly at what any good dog person (and he is. literally.) knows means "you should pet me now, I deserve good pets". The yellow golem spiraling in turn around the little golem in delight, corkscrewing around it before playfully darting after its tail in a game of tag. ]
I'm Allen Walker... [ He blinks. Fashionable sled? --oh. Right. She is teasing him, and it's actually kind of amazing.
He hesitates visibly for a moment, beginning to lean forward before, one hand outstretched before he catches himself. Reconsiders. Canine body language says one thing, but omg that seems so disrespectful to someone who honestly seems like the closest thing to god or divinity he's ever actually seen. And he has a fragment of it in his left hand.
But... ]
I saw one of these-- [ ah ] one of your trees last week, too. [ Considering that and considering her for a moment, this great white wolf of rainbows and light and fire, fierce and intimidating as much as she also seems so warm and inviting (almost... dorky?), who he would have to be pretty crazy to presume to do something like touch...
...he reaches out the rest of the way and rests his hand lightly behind one ear, if she'll let him. Fingers combing gently through thick fur not like someone would pet a dog, but to rest a hand lightly in deep gratitude. ]
...thank you. [ It's quieter. Sober with sincerity. ]
You helped give my friend some comfort when he really needed it. [ When he couldn't. ]
no subject
and oh, how much of it did she feel inside her bubble and warm. amaterasu even vocalizes gently with her mouth still shut, a soft, responding auuu— not much a whine and not a groan, but a pleased little thing in between. it’s here that she would like to say something in turn, but the words don’t come. allen is left in silence, and for a silence that’s too long for a conversation to successfully continue.
she notices, and lifts her head to turn her attention to her omen— who at the moment has enough on its plate, chattering and squealing with a great, dolphin grin when the small yellow golem follows its lead. it nods wildly and forgets words; it has a little friend it wants to balance on its snout like a ball, it wants to chase and laugh behind the twists and turns it leaves behind—
it definitely doesn’t hear the wolf huff, or ruff under her breath and flapping lips to get its attention. oh, well. if her eyes can be apologetic toward allen, they are, brief and fleeting as she stands from her sit and sniffs the boy from head to toe to wheels, sideways and behind, front to back, scraping her plush and changing coat against his legs and “fashionable sled”. what had happened here, she wondered? oh, there was so much to talk about, now. she has to, and thus, she has to find his omni.
allen will quickly find that all her insistent sniffing leads back to his front, his lap, and side— and purposely prodding her wet snout at his pockets. yes, where is your modern day notebook? bring that out.
don’t mind the tail wagging. she’s still pleased that she could help him and his friend. ]
no subject
While Allen, meanwhile, kind of squeaks himself. ]
Ah—! [ Wah!! Suddenly giant wolf-god all over him!! There's a lot of fur! So much fur and she's a little blinding this close! But... also she's really soft. And dog. Aaaaa actually he's delighted and amazed, but it's still rather alarming?? ]
S-sorry, what are you...?! [ D-does she want a treat??
He doesn't get it, sorry Amaterasu. Not the least reason for which is that he also never actually uses his Omni; he's a weird kid who finds it foreign and unnecessary. He's got Tim for communicating with people, what else does he need? Clearly talking to your spirit-thing and viewing people through a hologram is more natural to him than using a tablet-device-technology thing. Clearly.
Thankfully her nosing knocks it loose as he also thankfully keeps it with him because where else would he keep it. It drops out from a small leather satchel that's attached to the back of his wheelchair. Also the leather-bound journal that was given to him when he first arrived. It's partially filled with rather terrible and almost indecipherable writing and some very bad doodles. ]
no subject
delicately taking the leather journal between her teeth, much like she'd hold an egg with a carefulness to keep it from breaking, amaterasu sets it in the young man's lap, and for good measure, pops her snout against his hand as encouragement. a clean page, boy! open that baby up. ]
no subject
Do you... want to write? [ Because presumably she doesn't want to read his bad attempt at the journaling Viktor had recommended. Or want him to write. How?
He quickly thumbs to a blank page though, stealing incredulous looks at her still in the process before he... turns it around towards her? And offers the pen that was attached to the inside cover?
Stranger things have happened in his life ok. ]
no subject
until she starts panting again. anyway— she doesn't do anything that seems to give way to the action of writing. no out-of-the-ordinary movement . . . but ink soon begins to appear on the page in graceful penmanship, in characters that were more closely interpreted as old, old japanese.
by the power of trench and of its sleepers, allen will understand what these characters mean. they read: ]
Is this better, Allen?
no subject
But he blinks when he realizes there are characters appearing on the paper. Unrecognizable to him at first and for a moment he thinks she's painting somehow, artful and long strokes of... something. Before the meaning of them coalesces in his head and he startles. ]
Uaa! That's amazing! [ Her thoughts could just-- appear on the paper?? Without pen? Like an excited sort of kid, he lifts the book up and twists it around, looking at the writing this way and that way (upside-down) and maybe trying to see how she did that??
Belatedly, he realizes she asked a question and looks back at her with somewhat awestruck eyes. ]
--yes! It is! [ But he blinks, too. ] Ah... how did you do that?
no subject
With a brush and ink, of course.
[ her tail wags high, and with allen's perception of godhood, he'll notice that the tip of her tail swirls and tips off in a way normal tails do not. it is almost feathery, with a cloudy aspect, and the very nip of it is dipped in something constant— it dribbles black. ]
I enjoy the new, but I am much more accustomed to the old.
oh my god my parrot managed to tag you, I'm so sorry hsdjfds
This is. Maybe the most amazing thing that's ever happened to him. ]
Ehhh? Is that so. [ He laughs lightly actually, disbelief forced into belief in such a wonderful sort of way, and sets the book back down in his lap. ] I can't say I blame you. [ Also makes sense for a god.
He regards her for a moment though, tilting his head more thoughtfully. ]
You're a Sleeper too... right? [ He's pretty much certain, still. ] Why did you plant these trees...?
[ It's so kind, but... why? ]
parrot……. you almost gave auntie owlie a heart attack!!
Can you smell it? Sense it? [ she does this even to further the taste of it. ] This world is ill.
These trees will do what they have done in their mother lands— they will balm the pollution. They will make the air breathable, the soil fertile. They will do their best to nip at the grime that makes this place so dark, as long as they are cared for, as I care for you.
[ despite having just met, there is something deeply genuine about her care, blended into her massive presence and embracing aura. she means what she writes, and expresses it outwardly, too— a deep gaze that stares within him, and impeccable posture. ]
Besides, [ her attention turns to the run down church behind them. ] this seemed like the proper place for one.
he is a true chaos gremlin
He blinks, his expression going a touch slack with both surprise and some gentle awe. ]
"Care for me"? [ He's smart enough to read context to figure she doesn't mean him as in just him. ] You mean all of us?
[ He hesitates, taking in her full form again. The radiance and the splendor; truly a spirit, and truly divine. ]
...Why? [ He's not being sassy in the slightest, not even doubting her a little. Being a genuine sort of person himself, he can recognize it very easily. With such gentle awe. But...
...why? ]
no subject
the wolf looks serene, her throat reverberates, her mane of fur quivers. the kaleidoscope of colors and lights may reflect a woman that splits red lips in a grin as happily as the one the wolf wears. she cannot hug him, physically— but her aura can, large, welcoming and nurturing. she could cradle him, kiss the crown of his head, make sure he's secure enough against her bosom—
she brings that feeling. the earliest feelings a newborn should have had in a natural, loving environment. ]
Is that not what Mothers do?
no subject
There's been no natural and loving environment for him. Not ever, even when he finally felt like he might have found a home and group of people to belong to. So this, this...
It brings tears to his eyes that spill freely and he has no idea why that is. None at all, so briefly seeing that image of such a joyous, loving woman for a moment. Bright red lips and warm happy eyes, with hair even whiter than his with woven light. Is this what a mother feels like? Welcoming and loving. He has no idea, but this feeling...
There's a clatter from his chair as throws himself forward, off balance but not enough to topple. Thin but strong arms looping around her neck as he wordlessly hugs her to him, burying his face against the impossibly thick and soft fur of her mane. She might not be able to hug him, but he can hug her.
He's someone who very literally embodies love, you know. It's the entire basis of how his powers work in the slightest, reflecting them into strength. Hope, faith, and love; the Exorcist whose feelings ran the deepest of them all in the most turbulent but strongest connection with his Innocence, his fragment of "divinity"; his heart. Overflows with it and too many feelings sometimes, even if they all stem from the same root. Love, the terrible and the beautiful of it both, the sorrow and the joy of it... and belief.
I believe. That's the strongest feeling he has right now, that heart wrenching sort of love and hope that... something could actually be better. The strongest sort of feeling from him, some ex-Vatican soldier who turned his back on any notion of "god" despite supposedly being the left hand of one. Because they were cruel and unusual, punishing those who didn't deserve it for the slightest human failing, and no one he wanted to act in the name of. His own vows to the world -- to humanity -- were what mattered. But this time...
This time, burrowing his face against her neck and hoping she doesn't mind the tears that wet it slightly... he thinks maybe it's okay to believe. ]
no subject
her neck dips so that her chin presses against the top of his shoulder and curves around the side of his head. this way, she can embrace him in turn, and say more than her writing ever would to a person. his belief gives her palpable strength, an aura that pulses and engulfs— it's also wonderful to stay within it. all she has to give all-accepting, nourishing and supportive love. she offers a safe place for allen's tears of emotion to fall, and tenderly licks the shell of his ear, just as how she would thumb away any wetness staining his cheeks.
(except she might just be making things a little wetter? hah.) ]