manipulate mansplain malewife

welcome! my name is zacharie, i’m 24 years old, white, just some guy, and my pronouns are he/him. this is an independent and mutuals only blog for waka from the video game ōkami, established march of 2021. heavily headcanon based. make sure to read my rules. don’t be weird. just be cool. if you can do that, we’ll have no problems. we’re all here to have fun and maybe make friends along the way. :~)

Oh, his mildly rude interloper has a nice voice, and a nice laugh. No, now’s not the time to be distracted, he just met this guy, and doesn’t even know his face! But, his mood lifts as his forelocks are gently fiddled with, and he lets off steam- quite literally- with a rumbling snort, a cloud borne from his massive lungs swirling through Agata’s already-misty air.

Then, his assailant is on the end of his slender snout, and he wiggles it a bit, nostrils flaring as he gets used to the slight weight on his nose.

This frippery-covered fruit-loop offers nothing but genuineness, and his word is accepted with another snort, eyes like embers staring into him, pupils wide, taking him in. He’s unearthly pretty, not too different from a Seelie Fae, but the Fae were also not types to lie. If he has no reason to lead him to danger, then Teddy has no choice but to take his word at face value; the trees are too dense for him to fly out, and he’s out of options.

His mysterious guide springs off his nose, and his snout wrinkles, lip curling up in what would be a terrifying display of dozens of pearly, jagged teeth…if it wasn’t the immediate precedent of a fiery sneeze, doused by the water in the air and the ground.

The dragon sniffs, and plods carefully forward, head craned toward this odd, fancy man. “Mm. Appreciate it. You mind handing over a name, there, Twinkle Toes? You can call me Teddy.”

        The mighty sneeze sends a few birds scattering, a gust of steam shooting up from the crystal clear waters and washing over Waka. Unpleasantly humid. He pulls at the front of his kimono to air it out a bit, breathing in. The steam is gone as soon as it comes, however, spreading out with the low mist before eventually dissipating. He turns fully towards the dragon, balancing on the thin branch with ease.

        He smiles wider and, with a sweeping bow accompanied by a ripple of sparkles following his graceful movements, he says, “My name is Waka, here to save you from this ancient forest and everything that lurks within.” As though a dragon of this size needs saving. He’s mostly jesting, anyway. “Enchanté.”

        Waka turns again, leaping once more to another tree branch. He doesn’t move too quickly, giving his large companion enough time to trudge through the water and duck beneath branches so he can actually follow him. Agata can be confusing if you’re not familiar with it, and there are plenty of demons still looking for a chance to strike any unsuspecting passerby.

        “Where are you from?” He asks, looking back over his shoulder. “You’re quite unlike any dragon I’ve seen.”

        He huffs out a laugh through his nose.

        Who is this guy...?

        He waits patiently for the other to finish speaking and, somewhere in the back of his mind, wonders if this is how other people feel when he goes off on one of his monologues. Probably. Not going to think too much about it, though.

        “Well, my friend, I can’t say I know enough about you to tell whether you should get a load of knives in your face. But this requires tact, and from what I can see, you’re quite lacking in that department.” Waka taps his chin. How to help this fellow go about this with some semblance of diplomacy...

        ... He’s not actually that used to people coming to him for advice over something like this. Sure, he’s always been a smooth-talker, but... he also has no problem with telling someone he finds them grating on the nerves. Which often gets him into some sticky situations.

        “I would simply leave.” Easy. He shrugs. “Not that anyone can easily follow me, after all.”

        Not helpful whatsoever.

When it becomes obvious that the newcomer is unaffected by Wigglytuff’s attempts to be threatening, she turns to hiding behind Mitsuri’s leg. Her glare is still set on the possible ‘threat’. Her focus so set on the trainer before them that she doesn’t even notice the Xatu that’s landed atop the building. The Murkrow in the surroundings have noticed however are wholly uninterested in the pokemon. A few of them seem to even be actively avoiding getting caught in his stare.

When hearing it was his first time at the dojo a small excited gasp came from Mitsuri. She adored getting to show new visitors around! Though she’d only recently become one of the dojo leaders she felt an immense pride in regards to the dojo. Not to mention she didn’t get to meet charming mysterious people like this often!

“We’d love to have you as a challenger or just a visitor! We don’t get people up here very often so it’s always exciting to see new faces!” At least she thought so. She knew a few of the other leaders preferred when things were quiet around the dojo.

“Please follow me up the stairs.” She gestured for him to follow her as she took the last few steps up towards the dojo. From the front the dojo itself seemed fairly short however it seemed to reach rather far back into the woods. The trees around it grew taller then the building, almost covering it from an aerial view. It helped that many of the trees in the woods were fairly old while the building itself was only a few decades old.

“Okay so umm…” Where did she start? There was so much to share, she wanted to tell him everything at once! But according to her friends that got pretty confusing pretty quickly. The sight of the Murkrow in the trees gave her an idea. “AH! If you’ll notice there’s a lot of Murkrow around! That’s because they’re all part of the Ubuyashiki clan. The original founder of the dojo cared for lots of injured Murkrow and passed that practice down to his family. Now all the Murkrow families hang around! You can even see some sitting on the roof-”

She stops mid sentence when she finally sees the Xatu sitting atop the building staring at them. Wiggytuff also notices the other pokemon and nearly jumps three feet at the sight. Despite the startle reaction she’s quick to jump in front of Mitsuri and Waka. Her own trainer quickly grabs her holding her back. “That’s new. We don’t get many Xatu around here. The Murkrow usually chase wild ones off. They can be pretty territorial.” The comments are towards herself then anything. But when a particular thought seems to hit her she quickly turns her attention back to Waka, concern evident in her expression. “AH! You don’t think they’re hurt, do you?”

        It’s quite a lovely place, and his guide is very charming in her own way. She looks ready to vibrate out of her own skin with her excitement. Waka follows close behind, staying silent and allowing her to gather her thoughts and speak. A few Murkrow caw overhead, small shadows passing above, flitting from one branch to another and occasionally settling on the rooftop. Sunlight dapples against the ground from where it cuts through the leaves. Yes, lovely. Very peaceful. He thinks he enjoys it here already and makes a mental note that he should, perhaps, come back again one day when he has the time.

        He listens to her intently, pleasantly, politely. All until she skids to a stop mid-sentence and has her eyes fixed somewhere above, on the rooftop. Both brows raise, especially when Wigglytuff jumps into action in an attempt to shield the two from the perceived threat.

        ... Which happens to be his own Xatu sitting at the edge of the roof, a silent and unblinking guardian. The Pokémon appears unaffected by the sudden shift in the air, remaining stock-still even with three pairs of eyes focused on him. It’s likely he already saw this coming, really. Naturally gifted with precognition and whatnot, just as Waka was.

        Mitsuri is turning back to him quickly; her concern is endearing, really. Waka’s smile stretches wider, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Perhaps he should have introduced his partner as well when he first arrived, but, well... better late than never, right?

        “Oh, no, not at all,” he replies. “You see, he’s with me. I apologize for not introducing you sooner.”

        Waka looks back up and brings two fingers to his lips to give a sharp whistle. Xatu’s head turns, staring at him. Then with one beat of his wings, the Pokémon glides down to him and settles at his side. Waka reaches over to stroke along his beak, over the soft green feathers of his head. For once, Xatu blinks, clearly content.

        “He’s very quiet and prefers to observe. I assure you he didn’t mean to startle you.”

     Things had happened so fast, Haku could barely keep up with them. It probably didn’t help that the blood loss was starting to get to him and it seemed like things were slowing down, but he took a sick amount of glee from watching the demon before him get cut down, a grin on his features as his savior easily overpowered and destroyed the creature that Haku himself had struggled with.

     As the demons body began to fade, and he was addressed directly by the other would Haku manage to pull himself up, clutching onto his Khakharra with both hands as he’d grunt underneath the porcelain mask he wore, a chunk of it breaking off to expose the marred fur underneath as he’d give his savior a thankful nod.

“I overestimated my own strength, and underestimated my enemies… It is a mistake I shall not make again.” He’d grunt roughly though, almost falling down to his knees again, his teeth bared in a snarl hidden behind that mask before he’d steady himself once more.

“I’ll be fine, thank you… Ah, what is your name? I’d rather properly thank the one who saved me, after all.”

        Fur. Waka blinks slowly, catlike. Interesting. He won’t say anything about it for now—it isn’t like Nippon is without its fair share of odd creatures, and he’s plenty aware of those fox clans that keep themselves mostly hidden away.

        “An easy mistake to make,” he says with a shrug. “I cannot say I haven’t made the same mistake in the past. So long as you learn from it. But you’re alive, that’s what matters right now.”

        The prophet is quickly at the other’s side, an arm held out for him to grab onto if he needs to. The stench of blood is thick and heavy in the air. Waka is acutely aware of the blood running down his own leg from where the demon had managed to slice him, the pain swinging repeatedly from sharp to dull. He’ll deal with it on his own time. Not like he hasn’t had worse.

        “There is a reason night and day are separated.” He pauses, letting silence take over, his eyes turning up to the glowing moon. “My people were never proud of it. Such brutality over something that was so ultimately benign in the end.”

        It was mostly a legend, however. Details a little bit foggy. No one he knew then had been alive when it happened.

        “Disgraced long before I was born. I often wonder if he seeks forgiveness, but I don’t know if she would ever look his way again. It takes a lot to anger Amaterasu, you know. And one should never anger the sun herself, unless you wish to burn in her flames.”

        A low hum bubbles up in his throat.

        “Perhaps to you. I do think much of civilization takes the moon for granted. He does more for us than we often realize.”

        He taps his chin.