Nicholas D. Wolfwood (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notabluesbro) wrote2010-11-11 01:22 am
notabluesbro) wrote2010-11-11 01:22 am
8th Confession [Voice/Action]
[Morning ritual: sit up groggily, smoke a cigarette, kick stupid cat back out of bed after the umpteenth time. Fortunately, he'd managed to not want to pop Vash's head off his shoulders today, so he takes this as a good sign. And after he manages to regain his thoughts and get some breakfast in him, he cracks open his journal to see what's what.]
[[Filtered from Legato//100% Unhackable by Namisee Vash he said he was working on it |D ]]
So there's a shitload of new people... Hard to think I've been here this long, but you veterans probably snicker at a few measly months, right? [The sound of smoke leaving him, and it's obvious now he's been at the same usual bad habit.] Good to see these new guys got to miss the crappier part of this place, at least.
[And a charmingly added:]
It's not so bad when you get used to it, promise.
[Wolfwood really didn't find too much eventful this fine morning—it was a little chilly out, so he coiled himself in a black scarf, but... it was strangely relaxed today. It's something he feels ill-prepared for, even. Along his route of wandering, the preacher-man happened into the item shop on an interesting day; he'd spent so much time referring to the dangers of his world, he didn't consider that the neutral or even... nice things would snake their way into Luceti.
As such, he found a small weathered chest the that he could carry under one arm—a familiar one.
He drags it out, sits on a bench, and inspects it... and the first thing he happens across is a picture. He's not sure whether to burn it or laugh, so he just looks at it for a moment, noting the withered edges and shitty weathering. What a blast from the past. Like looking into the face of time.
He can be found here by whoever wants to be a creeper, or on his way back home with his cross on one shoulder and this small chest on the other. Clearly, he works out. But alas! Something slips out of the back of the chest without him noticing and floats quietly down to the ground.]
[[Filtered from Legato//100% Unhackable by Nami
So there's a shitload of new people... Hard to think I've been here this long, but you veterans probably snicker at a few measly months, right? [The sound of smoke leaving him, and it's obvious now he's been at the same usual bad habit.] Good to see these new guys got to miss the crappier part of this place, at least.
[And a charmingly added:]
It's not so bad when you get used to it, promise.
[Wolfwood really didn't find too much eventful this fine morning—it was a little chilly out, so he coiled himself in a black scarf, but... it was strangely relaxed today. It's something he feels ill-prepared for, even. Along his route of wandering, the preacher-man happened into the item shop on an interesting day; he'd spent so much time referring to the dangers of his world, he didn't consider that the neutral or even... nice things would snake their way into Luceti.
As such, he found a small weathered chest the that he could carry under one arm—a familiar one.
He drags it out, sits on a bench, and inspects it... and the first thing he happens across is a picture. He's not sure whether to burn it or laugh, so he just looks at it for a moment, noting the withered edges and shitty weathering. What a blast from the past. Like looking into the face of time.
He can be found here by whoever wants to be a creeper, or on his way back home with his cross on one shoulder and this small chest on the other. Clearly, he works out. But alas! Something slips out of the back of the chest without him noticing and floats quietly down to the ground.]
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Wait, you're Ginko, nevermind.When Ginko's done looking at that, he can look up to find this icon peering right at him.]
Enjoying yourself, mushi master?
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Jeez how many chainsmokers in Luceti started before the age of eleven?]
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Geez, I was a goofy looking little bastard. The nuns at the local church caught me out back during mass—got a ruler to the back of the head, but eeeh, never stopped me.
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Didn't figure that kind of thing was taboo. [adults TAUGHT him to smoke 8|]
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Taboo? Well, it all depends on where you are... When I lived on the streets, no one batted an eye at me smoking, but the church is a little more intolerable about that sort of thing.
One of the girls at the church told me smoking was like a strange, lengthened suicide, in her opinion.
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[He digs around in his pocket, and holds up one semi-bent cigarette.]
Normal cigarettes? Well, they've got crap in them the human body shouldn't really be taking in.
[a thoughtful pause]
The hell are yours even made of?
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-- a little bit of mushi.
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...I was smoking mushi?
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But still.
[He smirks.]
Your world sounds like a hell of a place, mushi master.
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Objects show up here, too-- seems like anything I've handled has the potential to end up here. [grump. B|]
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Let me guess—some of the objects you find have something to do with your usual job and are generally unfavorable to have around the public?
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I found an inkstone here once, that almost caused a group of children to freeze to death, in my world.
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Eeeeh? How can stone make people freeze?
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It had formed a sort of black stone, that a woman carved into an inkstone-- and a friend of mine bought [slight irritation here] because he heard it might have a mushi inside.
Some kids got into his storeroom, and tried to use it like a normal inkstone. That woke it up.
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There's at least one thing the desert gets a checkmark for—no icy mushi trying to freeze me to death. How the hell do you even fix something like that?
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Well, I'd never heard of anyone inhaling them before-- but the one person who wasn't effected seemed to be the woman who made the stone.
She lived traveling at high altitudes-- as it turned out, it was the air pressure that drew the Kumohami from her body. It worked with the children, too.
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Are a lot of mushi dangerous to hang around, or are there jut the occasional rebellious kind that like to mess with the people around 'em?
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