@casualtheft / starter call.
💛 💜 ❤️ || the weather is chilly at night. not that she seems to be bothered by THAT, keen ears picking up the sounds of rustling leaves, scurrying feet in the dark. she enjoys the prospect of sightseeing, at least in the very wee hours of MORNING, barely past midnight. not many walk the streets at this hour, and while criminals may be among those who remain, satori can pick out a RANCID thought from the crowd. judge. jury. executioner. there is no anxiety on her shoulders, arrogant, it may seem, but if her gift could not be handled by lessers, then so be it. bathed in moonlight, she lies back, feeling thoughts rustle in the very, very ancient recesses of her mind.
and one stands out: familiar, striking her like a HAMMER.
she leans forward, moving into a sitting position.
satori doesn't need to look to find the SOURCE of the thought, but she still grants marisa kirisame her audience. direct eye contact. sharp. DECISIVE. ❝i have not seen any of the mushrooms you're looking for. they're … tall and luminescent, yes?❞ not at all caring about greetings and niceties, if marisa forgot her name, her visage, she would REMEMBER soon enough. ❝i've seen a fair share of shiitakes, though. mm, i could use a mushroom stew right now …❞ she says with a wistful sigh.
