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]

A baby? [ oh, her heart. don't really mind that it's a dragon. it's a baby. ] Oh, then he is a little thing. My heart is swelling already. How old a hatchling?

[syncopathic]

Eh, not exactly a little thing. When I said he's a giant pain in the ass I meant he's a giant pain in the ass. Full-grown dragon, even though he's only about a year old.

Dragons in our world can live a long time. If they're dying they can choose to reincarnate at the cost of their personality. Same body, different soul. Supposedly Mikhail was once a dragon named Michael, but he got killed in battle. At least that's what my mistress told me.

He doesn't remember who he was before-- I'm not sure if that's standard for dragons who're reborn, though.

[brushy]

That may be standard for rebirth. It is very common, to forget your past to begin anew. It would not be rebirth, otherwise! It would be cheating death.

My word, he is a little one regardless! A tiny, baby thing amidst the growth of adult dragons. I bet he is adorable.

[syncopathic]

I guess, if you're into that kind of thing. I was too busy trying not to get scorched by his errant fireballs-- he didn't exactly have the best aim.

Kept getting kidnapped, too. Or dragon-napped, I guess. Stopped being entertaining after the second or third time.

[brushy]

I am sure the little ones are not (re)born with precision, or the innate ability to protect themselves. I believe in him, and if he is still alive today, a job well done to his travel group. Dragons are wise, exceptional creatures. I know one, and his sons.

[syncopathic]

Ehhh, I don't know much about exceptional. Or wise. He just seemed like a dumb kid. His former self was supposedly pretty special, though, if what Zero said about him was true.

...That's the woman we were all traveling with, by the way. Mikhail's babysitter, I guess you could call her.

[brushy]

You are all special.

She was your travel companion as well?

[syncopathic]

[Special. No one's ever described him like that. Five used to call him cute and sweet (ugh), later on Zero would call him fucked up or a pain in the ass. He'd never been called special before, not even by Five's underlings. It makes him feel... weird. Itchy. He focuses on her question instead.]

My travel companion, my charge, my sometimes fuckbuddy-- she filled a lot of roles, though I don't think she particularly cared one way or another. I was just along for the ride, just like the other poor saps that got caught in her wake.

Not that it was without its benefits. The way she fought was just... mmn. [He shivers with pleasure.] Pure poetry.

[brushy]

Do you enjoy a good brawl, Dito?

[syncopathic]

Heh. I've been known to get my kicks from the occasional bloodsport, yeah.

[Understatement of the fucking century there.]

Why d'you ask?

[brushy]

With my proper consent, we may dance.

[syncopathic]

[A fellow blood knight, huh? Interesting.]

My dance sessions tend to be pretty intense. Y'know, the kind where either dance partner has a chance of not walkin' away from it at the end of the night. Think you can keep up with me, pooch?