the hills are livelier at night than one may think, functioning less on the hustle of busy people and more on the thoughts left behind with the day’s last breath. silence speaks louder than words at times, and no other moment does it feel as fitting as when the moon hangs serenely over the planet. it is then when the whispered wishes, pleas, and platitudes towards the stars are sensed and understood by quiet celestial bodies, responses always given, albeit never directly. divine presence communicates with the earthly in such enigmatic ways, yet for geno, it’s all in a day’s work. grant wishes, listen to their cries, twist the arm of fate a little —— and just like that, he can so easily brighten one’s life as well as he can crush their dreams in one swoop. he would be remiss to ignore the latter, but nothing is better than watching hopeful peoples’ dreams coming to life in front of their eyes.
sometimes, however, all they need is an ear. surely, it must be fate that he’s sharing the same space, unbeknownst to the apparent forest creature. she is clearly no rabbit he’s ever seen in his life, but she has the very features of one. what creature she is, he does not know. she could be anything. maybe she is one of those pokemon, much like those he’s seen about the smash manor. she seems to speak as though she is one, but much like most of the ones he’s met (albeit not all), he can manage to understand her. another work of the divine, he supposes. the stars are meant to listen to all. he won’t question it.
what he does wonder, of course, is what exactly woes her. she is being listened to and given comforting celestial light, as all should be, and yet… what can he do, a star closer to mortal folk than most of his kind? is there something more to her plight? would it be uncouth of him to approach her? what kind of methodology is that? “hey, i’m a star, even though i don’t look like one. you can talk to me!” how weird would that sound? is it even that weird?
he hasn’t much more time to think. it all happens quickly, from him being fascinated by the pebble lit into crackling flame to that very spectacle… hurdling right towards him.
❝ wh—!! ❞ it’s a pretty last-ditch effort, but all he can really do is try to shield himself. the power of the stars can be a fine enough shield, and while it does well to protect the doll’s body from completely going alight, the rock still singes his left shoulder. the seared wood is an ugly, ashy sight, but it honestly looks worse than it feels. his pain tolerance is quite high. the fact that the doll is damaged is, frankly, more hurtful than anything. it isn’t as though it can’t be repaired, just as it has been many times before, but he knows how upset gaz gets whenever it happens.
the next thing he knows, the bunny is doting over him. his own hand holding the injured area, he peers over his shoulder —— wincing, but never once spiteful. accidents happen. ❝ ugh—— it’s fine. don’t worry about it. i’ve been through a lot worse, so… ❞
❝ … uh… ❞ oh, fiddlesticks and french fries, he’s been caught red-handed. she’s been opening her heart to the stars, and now she knows that he’s been here for who knows how long, listening in. his prior idea no longer seems nearly as off-putting as what’s going on right now. maybe he should make like his shoulder and dissipate harmlessly into stardust, flying the heck away. he’s so embarrassed!!
❝ rough… night, i take it? ❞ okay, maybe directly acknowledging it is only going to make it worse. quick, emergency reparations! ❝ i mean—— ha! the… the stars sure are vibrant tonight, aren’t they? haha… ❞ he’s dying, squirtle. rather, he’s becoming like a squirtle, sinking his head into the collar of his cape as if an actual turtle. save him.
— “What are you-? Oh! Uh... I suppose..?”
That also wasn’t the response she was expecting to get. Something more along the lines of ‘get away from me!’ or ‘look what you did you stupid bunny!’ and less focusing on a couple of twinkling lights in the sky and certainly not how her night was going. And on that matter, what was he so flustered over? Sure, he may have caught a stray word of her ramblings here and there but she could have set him ablaze if he was any less capable! No matter how she looked at it, his shoes were hers to fill.
Yet here he was, shriveling into himself with like a dying leaf in her place. She must have hit him harder than she thought, the pain jumbled his head up good - stripped him of all of his senses. Her accidental cruelty knew know bounds. Or he was just an odd fellow taking it all on the chin. She’d have to flip a coin to decide which.
Still, let it never be said she didn’t try to make the best out of a bad situation. A smile hesitantly crawls onto her face, her paw heartily yet gently smacking the shoulder of the star sprite she had left unburnt. Though she could do little in the way of fixing the marks of her mistake, perhaps she she could try to spare him from his awkward predicament.
“But come on, what are we doing talking about those o-or me! What about you? That’s some thick hide ya’ got! Normally if somebody got hit with that they would have had a hole right through ‘em and be mewling like they just hatched. N-Not to say you’re thick or that I make a habit of this to know or anything like that! It’s just- well you’re still alive and not burning... which is neat! I’m saying you’re neat!”
Oh sweet Mew, that was terrible. A shade of red begins to burn through her white fur, her toes then curling into the dirt. She had made this mess and now she couldn’t even properly string together the words to clean it up. Frankly, she’d say she made it even worse somehow. At least now he had company in this ever drowning boat of shame they had unfortunately built. The question is: would they sink or swim? For both of their sakes, she’d attempt the latter. Whatever they had done, neither of them deserved this cruel and unusual punishment of reddened cheeks and constant stammering.
“Ok ok, let’s just- start over yeah? Name’s Poppy and you? I didn’t hit ya’ hard enough to knock that out of your noggin did I? Heheh...” Sinking. She really needed to learn when to stop talking. “You’re... really ok though, right?” Stop. Talking.
