(no subject)
WHO: Amaterasu sunrisewolf and Yami reminisci
WHERE: The Museum of History
WHEN: Wednesday Afternoon
WARNINGS: Museum
SUMMARY: Two beings older than they seem run into each other. Amaterasu is nostalgically strolling through a museum
FORMAT: Paragraph? Pretzels cannot tl;dr at all
Sometimes, to escape the fast-changing world of stone and metal, Amaterasu found herself looking to the past for a moment of clarity, of stillness.
The world made more sense when darkness was a larger mass, as confusing as it seemed. When there was one definite thing she was to destroy, Amaterasu found it more comforting. However, in the City she found it more spread out. There was no tree that she could restore to allow tranquility and peace to reclaim the land. Sakuya the tree-spirit's reach was only so far. Through looking at the art of Nippon, or Japan's past, though, she saw glimpses of her home. The beautiful paintings and calligraphy displayed through glass cases reminded her of a certain minute, pint-sized painter. Perhaps it was worth being unable to speak with such a useful guide.
Sadly for her, the City didn't seem to be helped much by a stroke of a brush.
WHERE: The Museum of History
WHEN: Wednesday Afternoon
WARNINGS: Museum
SUMMARY: Two beings older than they seem run into each other. Amaterasu is nostalgically strolling through a museum
FORMAT: Paragraph? Pretzels cannot tl;dr at all
Sometimes, to escape the fast-changing world of stone and metal, Amaterasu found herself looking to the past for a moment of clarity, of stillness.
The world made more sense when darkness was a larger mass, as confusing as it seemed. When there was one definite thing she was to destroy, Amaterasu found it more comforting. However, in the City she found it more spread out. There was no tree that she could restore to allow tranquility and peace to reclaim the land. Sakuya the tree-spirit's reach was only so far. Through looking at the art of Nippon, or Japan's past, though, she saw glimpses of her home. The beautiful paintings and calligraphy displayed through glass cases reminded her of a certain minute, pint-sized painter. Perhaps it was worth being unable to speak with such a useful guide.
Sadly for her, the City didn't seem to be helped much by a stroke of a brush.