Ambrosia Rosewood

It’s odd.
To be stood once again in the bathroom of a home.
Odder still to consider the fact that it never thought this would happen to him again, who thinks they’re lucky to be stood in a bathroom? No worries that someone else is about to walk in on him, in a home he’s not supposed to be. No fear that because it is a public toilet block, people are going to enter any minute now and he needs to be gone.
There’s no knock at the door.
No loud voices showing people are about to enter.
It gives him time to think, to linger.
His eyes flick over to the mirror.
Though, it’s not a mirror right now, covered with a towel by Mallard by his request. Mirror’s have been touchy for him since he was taken. Never really liking them before, not quite seeing the young man staring back at him like they’ve always wanted. Then it turned into something pale, exhausted and thin, haunted. Ambrosia has never seen himself now. The plant hybrid he knows he’s become. Or at least deliberately seen himself, there’s been glances at mirrors as he’s gone past, but his eyes have never lingered or deliberately landed there.
Something’s drawn his eye to the covering today though. Why he doesn’t know.

He’s been living rather frequently with Mallard and the others now, they have no problems with his looks, something that still feels rather shocking to him. It knows what others have said about him, most aren’t subtle about it, so it’s not like he can avoid them. But Ambrosia doesn’t know, something about how these people see him; they took him in, yes out of pity at first, and he hopes it's not just his feelings getting in the way but they seem to genuinely care for him.
It draws his hand up to the mirror, brushing against the towel.
Drawing his eyes back down to their arm.
The leaves shake softly as he looks at them, the other arm reaching up almost out of impulse to stroke the soft textures. He’s not even sure what it is anymore, feels like a hybrid of feathers and plant stem, which in truth is what it probably is. As if a leaf stem has been made up of down, with the contrast of the soft almost fur-like leaves that grow out wherever they want, it was always his favourite texture of plant, so maybe he influenced them into being the type that grow off of him. These are something he can’t avoid, much like his legs, he’s still not over how different they are. It’s not even due to just how they look, but how they act, he had to relearn how to walk on what better resembles a parrot over the duck that he should be. Moss has gotten used to them though, found the benefit in his new appendages much like his new companions, so maybe he coil finally appreciate the rest of himself.

It’s eyes flicker shut, shifting up before he drops the other arm. There’s a few long seconds before he then pulls the towel off. He has to see himself now.
Ambrosia’s eyes flicker back open, and he stares at his reflection, non-blinking just like himself. It’s odd though, he’s not sure if he feels like the duck in the reflection, it’s different, far different from the mainly brown feathered duck he expected himself to grow into. The leaves that flop over his eye instead of his head feathers, the green ribbon around his throat. A hand reaches up to touch it, it feels like feathers. He wasn’t expecting that, thinking it was more likely to be the strange plant matter like his other green sections. Though its eyes flick back up and focus on what he feels is the most striking part of himself, mosses eyes.
They are what he feels is the biggest difference in himself, they say your eyes are the window to your soul and by the gods has Ambrosia’s soul been changed. The white streaks are new, he knows that, Gosalyn brought them up after the Aloe gift, she didn’t ask him, or even say it to him, but he heard her whisper it to Darkwing and how his eyes then lingered on his when he thought Ambrosia wasn’t looking.
He’s not sure when the tears began, but as his eyes defocus, it can already see a couple rolling down. They don’t feel sad though. Unlike the last time he caught sight of himself unexpectedly. Though it doesn’t know what this is, what emotions he’s feeling right now. There’s a strange churning in his gut and it also almost feels like his head is going to explode, but also this isn’t good nor is it bad, though Ambrosia doesn’t think this is a neutral feeling either.

It hesitates now, before taking a step back, trying to take as much of himself in through the mirror as possible, and it’s odd.
The more he stares, the more Ambrosia believes he’s finally settling in that this is truly what he is and what he wants. It doesn’t matter who has other opinions about this, it’s him and if he is content then that is all that should really matter. There’s a pair of ducks that slowly come into focus in his mind as he thinks this, but he shakes it off, actually shakes it off. A few leaves flutter down onto the floor, the edges of them faintly browned. He’s not sure if they were already like that or if it was due to his mind suddenly going down a more negative path.
He doesn’t care now, they’ve burned that bridge, shut him away and now he has other people he cares about. Dare he refer to them as potentially his future family, Ambrosia hopes they will be.
Maybe it’s the mirror that’s made him think about all of this, opened up their soul and letting it leak out, that or maybe he’s just feeling less afraid today, though it’s more than sure that it’s going to all leave him once again, as soon as he’s left the bathroom.

“Hey Ambrosia, I found a plant!” Gosalyn’s voice echoes around the house and into the bathroom.
It causes a smile to break out across its beak, no doubt the young girl has found or purchased another plant that could really do with some TLC to get it back into its roots and flourish. She’s been doing it a lot lately and he finds it really sweet, most get rehomed to her friends, though no statement as to who has helped make them so stunning but he doesn’t mind, knowing it would make most of them toss the poor thing out.
So, he pulls his eyes finally off the mirror and opens the bathroom door,
“Where’d you find this one?” He calls back, as he walks through the rest of the house, trying to work out where exactly she’s waiting for him.