8th Confession [Voice/Action]

[notabluesbro]

[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 Nami  see 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.]

Comments

Re: [ action ]

[one-green-eye.livejournal.com]

Guess it starts early. [snerk. Holds the picture out to him.

Jeez how many chainsmokers in Luceti started before the age of eleven?]

Re: [ action ]

[notabluesbro]

[Seven years old, baby! It's an accomplishment! ...And not too uncommon, in his world, probably. But Wolfwood takes the picture on flips it around for a moment in his hand. God, it's so old. He's not old, is he? :(]

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.

Re: [ action ]

[one-green-eye.livejournal.com]

Apparently not. [and a smirk. And at least you know your own age, man.]

Didn't figure that kind of thing was taboo. [adults TAUGHT him to smoke 8|]

Re: [ action ]

[notabluesbro]

[Heck yeah! 27...ish, and counting! He'll just wait until November's over, to tack on another year.]

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.

Re: [ action ]

[one-green-eye.livejournal.com]

Really. [a skeptical look. Ah, the limits of his selective medical knowledge.] -- sort of ironic.

Re: [ action ]

[notabluesbro]

[He blinks up at the man.] Sort of ironic?

Re: [ action ]

[one-green-eye.livejournal.com]

Mm. [he looks amused, rolling the cigarette in his fingers] The man who taught me said I'd live longer. [Perhaps into his late teens, even. Ehe.]

Re: [ action ]

[notabluesbro]

Live longer...? That's a first.

[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?

Re: [ action ]

[one-green-eye.livejournal.com]

Yeah... [he shuffles absently though some of the items in from of him, checking for anything suspicious] ...I got sick pretty often before an older mushishi showed me how to mix them. They're just specific herbs-- and, well [he glances to the side and blows a thin stream of smoke-- and looks at it. It hovers without dissipating, until he nods at it.]

-- a little bit of mushi.

Re: [ action ]

[notabluesbro]

[He leans back, perking an eyebrow at him, and thinks about the first time he spoke with the white-headed mushishi.]

...I was smoking mushi?

Re: [ action ]

[one-green-eye.livejournal.com]

[chuckle]Well. In a manner of speaking.

Re: [ action ]

[notabluesbro]

...Guess it can't be any worse than the nicotine.

But still.

[He smirks.]

Your world sounds like a hell of a place, mushi master.

Re: [ action ]

[one-green-eye.livejournal.com]

[absently] No more than some others.... [and a slightly irritated frown] Has a hell of a way of following me here, though.

Re: [ action ]

[notabluesbro]

Oh? [Very curious, indeed.] Meaning... mushi have actually poppped up in this place...?

Re: [ action ]

[one-green-eye.livejournal.com]

Quite a few of them.

Objects show up here, too-- seems like anything I've handled has the potential to end up here. [grump. B|]

Re: [ action ]

[notabluesbro]

[Oh, he can feel that grumpiness floating alongside your mushigarette smoke, amigo.]

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?

Re: [ action ]

[one-green-eye.livejournal.com]

That's about it.

I found an inkstone here once, that almost caused a group of children to freeze to death, in my world.

Re: [ action ]

[notabluesbro]

[He leans forward, a hand on his knee. Yup, he's totally made himself comfortable among the items around here, at this point.]

Eeeeh? How can stone make people freeze?

Re: [ action ]

[one-green-eye.livejournal.com]

Mm. Well, this one was made from a hibernating mushi, that normally lives inside of clouds, eating moisture.

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.

Re: [ action ]

[notabluesbro]

So it entered their bodies and started sapping up their heat?

Re: [ action ]

[one-green-eye.livejournal.com]

Mmm. [a nod] They inhaled it-- this kind of mushi eats the moisture and creates ice, so it was like they were freezing from the inside.

Re: [ action ]

[notabluesbro]

[He offers a deadpan face in reply.]

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?

Re: [ action ]

[one-green-eye.livejournal.com]

[by being AWESO-- oh.]

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.

Re: [ action ]

[notabluesbro]

Man, sounds like a lucky break, that there were mountains close by.

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?

Re: [ action ]

[one-green-eye.livejournal.com]

Well, [a wry smile] There are always mountains nearby, in the country I come from.

But -- well, you could think of it like any other creature. Among plants, there will be many poisonous, and just as many harmless. Among mammals there are those we eat or have taught to work for us, and those that would just as soon eat us. Mushi are no different. They've evolved to play whatever roles are most productive to their species; sometimes making direct use of man, sometimes aiding, sometimes antagonistic, or sometimes harming them only incidentally.