handwritten-text (forward-dated to 20th-ish)

[brushy]

Hello, rambunctious children, with your magical self-writing rocks and magic-yous. I smell so many different yous, by the way! All these shapeshifter-sorts, angel-sorts and demon-sorts. Oh, demons, I’d be delighted to meet you, but if you are like the odds of dear Michael, then carry on. I will not bite. You all are welcome to call me what your heart tells you to, but Ammy, as much as Ammako, have always been the ones to soften my spots.

I'm very aware of the sun's disappearance, and these cursed lands have not allowed it to rise as of late, but, if you are to ask for it, in your thoughts and in your hearts, it shall come to you. Your plantlife shall flourish, your waters cleansed, and perhaps the air you breathe will taste less like a boiling pot of rot down your throat. In the meantime, it shall find a way. It always does. Fear not!

And if you have little interest in these things, then tell me, I am most curious: what is faith, to the lot of you? I am in the mood for the Good Chats as I carry on with my duties, yes.

Oh, and one more thing! If anyone manages to come across a bundle of bones that look and smell of the holy sort by the by, may I have them? They are my favorite snack.

[ as a note, people are welcome to find ōkami items! ]

Comments

[brushy]

I do. Why else would I ask you all to pray for the sun? :)

[possessum]

Are you connected to it? The sun, I mean

( If so... this month must be especially horrible for her... )

[brushy]

That I am! Do not worry, I have been in cursed zones like these, before. As bothersome as it is, I'll find my way around, and my rays shall once again, rise.

Are you connected to Peter Graham, Graham Crackers?

[possessum]

( Oh. He may not fully understand all of this, but it's not the first time Peter's encountered entities who were brought here and subsequently have to adjust to some weird way this world works that goes against their own. )

I'm sorry, that has to be really difficult
If it helps at all, I don't think the darkness is going to last for too long. Things here seem to work on a cycle

( But then........ This person knows his name... And while text can't properly convey his burst of intense anxiety, perhaps some of it comes through in the fact it takes him a noticeable bit to answer. )

That's me. I'm him, I mean
Do you know me?

[brushy]

[ oh, it is him. if amaterasu had hands, she would be rubbing them. instead, her tail sways in between brushwork. ]

What a lucky mark. A handsome devil told me! He never mentioned that you were Peter Graham of the Graham Crackers, though. I am most intrigued, do tell me of your food.

[possessum]

( Paranoia Overdrive...... what is happening. What handsome devil. Peter's scared, and all he knows to do is ramble nervously about graham crackers.... )

Oh uh
graham crackers are this
stuff from my world
they're pretty good, but on their own they're kind of underwhelming
best with s'mores

( .... )

do you know about s'mores?

[brushy]

[ if only peter could sense the happy serenity coming from the other end of this message. or, if amaterasu could feel is anxiety. she would be worried sick! ]

I do not know about the S'mores, and I am now listening very, very attentively to know more.

[possessum]

So basically s'mores are made out of graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate. You stack all that stuff together and roast it over a fire or like in a microwave
The reason they're called s'mores is because they're so good you want "some more"

( It's... pretty dumb. Humans are simple creatures. )

[brushy]

[ simple—?! that's why it's so cute ]

I require Some More.

[possessum]

I could
Make one for you sometime if
you want

( What is he volunteering to do.... but she said require! And he has enough experience with Supernatural Beings requiring things to know you do what they say!

Even if he's doing so with all the enthusiasm of someone with a gun pressed to their head. )

[brushy]

May I see you then, Peter? For Some More?

[possessum]

( HOW DID HE END UP....... promising to make a s'more for some supernatural entity that publicly threatens demons—! )

Sure :)

( Maybe if he seems Really Nice.... he'll survive this?

But he's shaking even as he continues to dig his own grave. )

Where do you live? I can bring one to you sometime when you're free

[brushy]

[ peter might die. but the cause of death will not at all be scary (this is a joke). ]

Oh, my dear, I don't "live" anywhere. I nap where it feels right to nap and lope about during most of the hours in a day. It may be easier for me to come to you.

[possessum]

( It is probably 100000% not wise to give this vagabond bone-eating entity directions to his home.

BUT.... the house is heavily warded against Bad Things. AND.... Luna's there. Which is probably a lot better than him meeting this Being off on his own. )

Sure, we can do that
I live in Gaze. It's near the school, the only house with a pale blue door
You can come any time you like. S'mores have to be made fresh anyway

( This means he's going to be flying to the market to get some ingredients for whenever this mysterious visitor comes to call....

Of course Peter won't be expecting a very adorable doggo (his greatest weakness). )

action! (at a flexible time, fast forwarded to another day or otherwise!)

[brushy]

Away with me, then. I have a trip to tend to, and you, my dear, have Some More to create!

[ it takes as much time as necessary for a big, loping wolf to to go from the beach to gaze district— amaterasu adores running, just as any free spirit does. it brings her to run quickly, like the wind. she brings the breeze with her, and celestial blossoms with every dig of her paws into earth.

a school should be a place with many scholars, correct? she passes, once she spots an orderly group of studious looking-folk, not too hard for her to pick out. the house next to that, then. a blue door.

once spotted, amaterasu hardly stops her trotting; it's continuous and her tongue lolls out her mouth with a beaming sort of wellness that a dog would have after playing a good game of fetch. she climbs the stairs, and announces her arrival with a sharp bark!. if that doesn't work, she'll scratch at the door, and sniff quickly beneath it.

heavens, how many smells, magical and otherwise. ]

[creidim]

[ For the most part, Luna has been spending much of the time since she returned to herself in bed. Sleeping, not sleeping — feeling dreadful from the vast amounts of wild animals she's consumed over the.... well, she's not really sure how long it was. She's... a little tender, physically. Mentally—? Well, that's a whole other story.

Slipping from her bed to shuffle downstairs in search of tea, she hears the scratching at the door. For a brief moment, she wonders if maybe it's Helga — but her wolf-dog is nowhere to be seen, curled up asleep somewhere in the house. No, it's coming from the front door. The wards aren't signalling anything malicious, so she goes to investigate.

So instead of the boy Amaterasu is expecting, there is a Witch answering the door — dressed in pyjamas and one of Peter's hoodies. She looks dishevelled from sleep and exhausted, but it's still the best Luna's looked in a few months by far. She peers curiously outward, her gaze shifting down to the wolf on her doorstep.

Not, not just a wolf. Luna's eyes widen. There's red markings upon its fur, bright to look at; rainbow colours dancing at its back. There's something powerful about this wolf, and something achingly familiar too — a sensation that teases at the back of her mind. This is a very special not-wolf. ]

.... Hello. [ She stares for a long moment, blinks a few times. ] Can I help you—?

[brushy]

[ panting! tail wagging! all of that and more into a positive canine greeting. hello dear, you look like someone’s thrown you out of bed. the celestial wolf’s ears pin high with attention, and with another half bark— she shuts her mouth, points her eyes directly past luna, then back at her, with her pants resuming.

aren’t you going to invite her in? ]

[creidim]

[ Oh. How curious—! For a wolf that looks so ethereal, she was expecting a voice to answer her. She's gotten too used to magical/otherworldly creatures being able to communicate like people would.

But despite that, they sure do look very excited and happy to be here, Luna knows that much. And she knows Helga enough to understand when she's trying to communicate with her, watching for a long moment curiously. ]

Oh, you'd like to come in—? [ For some reason? Well, her wards still aren't picking up anything nefarious. Luna finally relents and steps aside, opening the door to let the wolf in. ]

I... don't really know why you're here, though? I don't think we've met, have we?

[ Has she? She's not sure? They're still oddly familiar. ]

[brushy]

[ the answer, to all? well! amaterasu bolts in, seemingly ignoring the girl's words— but the wolf spoke a different way, when she wasn't writing. her answers are riddled with her actions, sniffing wildly around the living room, then the hall, then trotting immediately into the kitchen: the only source of scent that was so similar to food.

but where are the some mores? amaterasu clearly seems to be searching, snout to the floor, then standing, walking in a circle, looking this way and that— once luna is in her sights (possible from the frame leading into their kitchen), the wolf steps toward her and gives a single, dramatic yelp. her wagging tail goes flat. where?

where . . . were the some mores? :( and where on earth was peter graham, of the graham crackers? ]

[creidim]

[ There is now some strange ethereal wolf running riot around her house. Luna's at a loss, trying to follow the wolf about once she's closed the front door again. They're looking for something? Or someone—? She hurries to find them in her kitchen, looking around once more. Whatever it is they're looking for, they're (or it) is not here.

Luna puts her hands on her hips, head tilting curiously. ] Are you... looking for something that's here—?

[ There's a brief pause, a slow realisation: did... Paimon meet an otherworldly being—? Luna raises her gaze to the ceiling. Something like that would... make sense. The demon does like to reach out to other beings, powerful ones and the like. But Peter's the one in control right now upstairs. With an inhale, she mentally reaches out to him: ]

Peter—? Could you come down please—? There is a mysterious wolf creature in the kitchen.

[possessum]

( This house has held... many strange things.

'Peter—? Could you come down please—? There is a mysterious wolf creature in the kitchen.'

....But this is a first.

There's only a momentary pause, and then the sound of footsteps overhead, as one lengthy teenage boy creeps out of his room and down the stairs. He's torn between some paradoxical mix: a sense of urgency and hesitation, but he's poking his head and one arm around the corner, before the rest of him follows.

There's Luna, and there's... a wolf. ...It's also something else. Peter, so full of Other, stares widely: eyes huge and round, frozen to the spot. There's a kneejerk fear there in his expression, but also something alien and awed, and for a very long moment he just stands there, staring like that. His head tilts ever-so-slightly to the side, as though curious.

But despite the Other to him, there's also boy, a boy who on his own doesn't have a strong connection to such things, and Peter's perception and feelings towards this entity standing in the kitchen are... convoluted. Is this a white wolf or a brilliant spectrum of colours? Is this a wolf at all?

Slowly, he moves to stand beside Luna, tense. (But oh, the creature's beautiful.... Important, he can feel that she's important.) He's more awed than he is afraid, he realises, though he sticks close to Luna, arm pressed to arm. )

Um...... Should we call someone?

( ...Who're you going to call, Peter. Trench's Animal Control Hotline?? )

[brushy]

[ she smells something, someone, so many things at once. this, this is different. there is a gangly boy that may look like a tree, coming from the stairs. her searching around and airy, good humored panting comes to a complete stop with him in view.

with that thing in view. her hackles raise, visibly standing on end from gut-instinct. she can she right through him, smell the soot of ash and something powerful as well— the wolf’s initially reaction is quick, but not aggressive, if one knew the language these beasts spoke with their bodies. anaterasu stands with her neck high, chest out, gait stiff until it locks in place and simply has her stand there, before the kitchen. her tail doesn’t wave. it holds, and holds high. her triangle ears are pinned forward like horns, and her eyes convey a dominant message that does not dare to break contact. she is not afraid to stare.

she does not show her teeth; there is no reason to, but she certainly exudes a palpable confidence to the demon beneath the human child’s containment. the sound that comes from her throat is not quite a snarl, not quite a growl. but it is assertive in where it puts her. have you ever seen an entire class quiet down immediately when the respected teacher arrives? that air. she is alpha. she is Mother. she has learned now, not to judge so quickly. if doing harm to that boy is not his purpose, then she has earned two children in one. three, counting the girl whose heart patters for him. even that, she can hear.

so, demon in the boy— she had promised michael she would go gently, and gently she does. well, for a wolf. regal and before him as god themself ever would. how do you appeal? ]

[creidim]

[ It's quick, the shift from the easy-going demeanour to something very different catches her attention before she can even answer Peter's question. Luna snaps to attention, eyes widening and bemused expression she'd previously been holding drops. Silently, and quickly she grabs Peter's hand, stunned.

She is fortunate, however, to have some understanding of the wolf's behaviour. They came here on purpose. Helga understands her speech, but the wolf-dog cannot speak back. Over the years, she's noted how Helga communicates. This creature isn't moving to attack, this isn't aggression. But it's certainly.... authoritative, even if it's not being aimed at her.

Her eyes dart to the side, to Peter. This wolf is no usual wolf, it is something very special. Something otherworldly, powerful. The marks upon its fur, the blazing prismatic colours behind them. Maybe it really is looking for Paimon, after all. ]

They came here on purpose. The wards didn't pick up anything they didn't like. [ It comes out barely a whisper, her heart skips frantically in her chest. But she's outwardly calm, tightly holding onto Peter's hand.

Even if she knows the wolf means no harm, there's a definite assertiveness that she knows best to be wary about. This wolf is not Helga, after all. But still, even her magical wards didn't see this creature as a danger. ]

I— I thought maybe Paimon had met them, that's why they knew to come here.

[possessum]

( The creature sees him, and changes. Peter feels the change seconds before his eyes detect it — something tenses in a way he couldn't ever hope to explain. Like light tightening, like light shining, picking up on everything it touches, seeing it in plain view. The creature sees him — not on the surface, but inside.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickle, and it's familiar in ways (like the air's flexing, he thinks, again) and unfamiliar too. Other, but not the Other he's known. He's numb for a long moment, flickering towards dissociation. He doesn't even realise Luna's taken his hand until his own is suddenly tightening against hers, fingers latching on, suddenly afraid. )

—I don't think I should be here.

( He takes a half step back, a very subtle movement. He doesn't like being seen. Not by this.

But something looks back and freezes him in place. It opens its eyes wide, two vast, deep holes — not empty but full, and always searching. What is this Thing standing there so proudly? Something even more ancient than it, something Alike but Not, something Greater. The demon has been known as many things in its golden existence, and a god, a goddess, are among them. But this entity.... is More. The demon king recognises that.

Respects it. Craves it. He knows the being is not Master but it feels... similar to how Lucifer feels for him. That same Greatness. Authoritative and Knowing. Light. Without it, Paimon has been so very lost.

Peter stands there nervous, tense, but though the demon isn't entirely sure how to interpret this Being, it doesn't share its host's desire to flee. There's an almost regal air to him in return — he's something proud too, up under everything. A golden sparkle behind Peter's dark eyes. Not aggressive at all, but intensely curious of Her, and his spirit is a cacophonous shimmer of lights and sounds, forever loud — but the feelers that pat at the air around Her are more gentle. They keep a respectful distance.

...All this is going on as Peter just stands there wide-eyed and grasping Luna's hand. And then he's releasing a shuddering breath, largely oblivious to the exchange happening on a level he can't see, only feeling the aftershocks of it. The sudden and intense swell of Paimon makes him nauseated, and his throat flutters with a soft whimper. )

Luna, I don't like this. I really— I think it's— after me. I don't want to be here.

( Peter... don't be so paranoid all the time... )

[brushy]

[ well, then. the prince (a king?) has made his stance, and amaterasu seems to accept it; mutual respect, no animosity. it has gone well, better than she had imagined. the wolf’s posture seems to relax, but doesn’t lessen in grandness in a very careful approach, minding the startled boy feeling the blunt of this unseen exchange. yes, you are allowed to poke and prod at her lights, sift through her energy, you are allowed to stay in her nonexistent arms and pull at her fur because they are soft, demon. you are a child, a wee thing— she has patience, with children. you have lovely manners, for a young one, she manages to think and portray, before her closed maw and serious lips give way for a tranquilized pant once more.

the poor thing, the other other one. the boy that looks like a tree trembling in the winds. oh, she is not after you, dear. how to make that up? a tail that was once flagged high begins to lower just enough to sway like gentle tides, bringing her head down in a non-imposing manner and pacing, just by the two. she is now a dog who simply wants to interact with the children, now, safely.

the boy is too startled— so, she starts with the girl. women have that touch, you see. that gentle guidance. she trusts the girl that holds his hand from the warm heart she sees within, and slowly, gradually . . . begins to contort herself around so it may look like she is about to lie down— and she does! with an oomph, with ears occasionally pulling into a backwards fold against her skull every time she extending her snout to her, just that much closer, and, oh yes!

the tail that is going thump thump thump on the ground. she extends her invitation directly to peter, too, just a little stretch there to come closer to their hands— but she never oversteps her boundaries.

look at her belly, her soft insides! she is exposing them, feeling safe and confident enough to do so. go along then, she won’t bite. the flames don’t burn. they are ethereal and warm, like the sun rising in the spring. ]