smithandwesson (
smithandwesson) wrote in
voidtreckerexpress2022-03-27 03:35 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
How Long Does It Take To Adjust
Who: Genjo Sanzo & You!
Where: Random Parts of the Train~ Will emphasize With Each Thread
When: Month: Quicksand, Day: 10 (Just After Mission End)
What: Genjo Sanzo is finally started to accommodate himself to living upon the Voidtrecker Express. But that doesn't ease the many conflicted things he's feeling throughout it all. The nicotine withdrawal probably isn't helping.
Warnings: Nothing just yet besides Sanzo cussing up a storm as only Sanzo do.
I. Addiction Is A Very Powerful Thing
[It had been almost two full weeks since Genjo Sanzo had arrived upon the Void Treckers express. He was starting to get used to it, bit by bit. At least, walking between carts had felt simple enough. He even felt bold enough to wander out the train during the very end of the mission to peak about some.
Of course, that didn't stop his introverted nature from taking its due course.
He had spent most of his days sticking to the Quiet Coachesby far a much better place to take his frequent naps than the training room keeping to himself to sort out how he felt about all that had been going on. But as time drew on and days turned into weeks, there was a wild side to him that couldn't keep quiet just by sitting still and keeping to himself.
He needed nicotine.
He was good at conserving himself when times were tough, but even a priest of the highest patience couldn't go a full thirteen days cold turkey.
He needed nicotine terribly.
Others had told him about how one can get needed accompaniments as they completed tasks and spent time upon the train. But, after much struggle figuring out the store system, he was pretty agitated to find out how much alcohol and basic cigarettes cost.
And he was dirt broke.
And so he endured. Begrudgingly he endured. He persisted, gritting his teeth, clenching his fists, and tapping his feet whenever he grew restless.
Of course, it could only last so long.
He had just been up and about, completing his designated tasks for the day to keep busy. Of course, that meant time in the kitchen. He wasn't a decent chef by any means. But he at least knew how to clean and prep food. And as much as he wished to use the kitchen knife he was handling to quiet those who cheerfully chatted around him, he mostly kept to himself through it all.
But then those running the kitchen told him to go offer food out to others who may want it. And to aid anyone else who needed help throughout the carts.
And so Genjo Sanzo did.
And he endured.
But he was nearing his limit. Quite obviously so. He found himself helping out; no matter how curt, polite, or otherwise, those around him may have behaved, But they would eventually be cut off rather abruptly. Getting a rather snippy, almost aggressive reaction in response.]
Shut up! We're almost done, okay? Just walk, idiot!!
[He needed nicotine. He just needed to work hard and do what was required, and he could get nicotine. Just a little longer...]
II. Booknerd Problems
[In the end, Genjo Sanzo was an academic. And being in a new place surrounded by many things had left him with many questions that he needed answered. He hated not learning something. He hated feeling like an inept dumbass. And he especially hated thinking he would be useless to any degree.
And so, upon his days exploring the carriages, it was to his subdued pleasure that he found the wonder of the Library.
Of course, his joy was a momentary one. He was just as quickly reminded of one thing that he had been struggling with ever since he first arrived upon the express.
He was missing his reading glasses.
That didn't stop his attempt for knowledge, of course. But no effort and sheer willpower could prevent the inevitable headache of squinting one's eyes and hunching so close to a book that your nose was practically touching it.
His grumbling became audible at a point. Sighing out rather heavily, he pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose between his eyes. The pile of nonfiction books that surrounded him was unable to hide the apparent struggle he had been experiencing.
Damnit.
[He finally spoke up. Not aware of anyone who may have been near him at the time. But he was at the point where he somehow needed to express his aggravation.]
... There is something I need to see for myself... So why does this place have to make it so fucking complicated?
[What was the point of starting everyone off with so little? How could anyone be of any help this way?]
III. Will Sell Soul For Cigs
[As with most of his time, despite how much of a loner he usually considered himself. Sanzo hated to think he was being useless in any way. And so he decided to utilize himself and possibly cease any of the aching boredom that came with simply skulking about the carriages.
It was a rudimentary attempt. But with Sanzo, it was all he had. He made a public journal post, available to anyone who happened to be looking. So now, all he had to do was wait for the tasks to come in.
Which was how he had found himself here now, a stringy young man formally bowed in front of a carriage door, head lowered as he introduced himself. Certainly, he took a far more polite tone than he had with anyone who had met him before this point.]
Genjo Sanzo, Envoy of the Heavenly Emporer of the North. You requested my services?
IV. A Quiet Moment Of Introspection
[It was late at night—when most would have found themselves tucked away into their sleeper carriages, whether willingly or otherwise. But Sanzo was awake. He was sitting at one of the booths within the standard coach, facing out towards the pure black nothingness that was the void during nighttime. Its sight formed a sense of dread that had been all too familiar to him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he sat there, dazed out on thoughts and memories he usually would have preferred to ignore.
He had stared into such darkness before.
It's horrifying.
But as time passed and a slight headache began to throb against his temples, he realized that he was not alone. Not turning to face the other figure sharing the cart but simply speaking out.]
... I'm aware that you're here. It's rude to stare, you know.
[It was his own Genjo Sanzo way of a greeting. Not scolding or admonishing the presence watching him, but simply acknowledging it.]
V. WILDCARD
((OOC: As always, feel free to drop a starter if you have something else in mind/ anything you wish to play out with the old grump monk here. If you want to plot something out, feel free to reach out and PM me or contact me at
chohakkaifan -or- discord ChoHakkaiFan#5971)
Where: Random Parts of the Train~ Will emphasize With Each Thread
When: Month: Quicksand, Day: 10 (Just After Mission End)
What: Genjo Sanzo is finally started to accommodate himself to living upon the Voidtrecker Express. But that doesn't ease the many conflicted things he's feeling throughout it all. The nicotine withdrawal probably isn't helping.
Warnings: Nothing just yet besides Sanzo cussing up a storm as only Sanzo do.
I. Addiction Is A Very Powerful Thing
[It had been almost two full weeks since Genjo Sanzo had arrived upon the Void Treckers express. He was starting to get used to it, bit by bit. At least, walking between carts had felt simple enough. He even felt bold enough to wander out the train during the very end of the mission to peak about some.
Of course, that didn't stop his introverted nature from taking its due course.
He had spent most of his days sticking to the Quiet Coaches
He needed nicotine.
He was good at conserving himself when times were tough, but even a priest of the highest patience couldn't go a full thirteen days cold turkey.
He needed nicotine terribly.
Others had told him about how one can get needed accompaniments as they completed tasks and spent time upon the train. But, after much struggle figuring out the store system, he was pretty agitated to find out how much alcohol and basic cigarettes cost.
And he was dirt broke.
And so he endured. Begrudgingly he endured. He persisted, gritting his teeth, clenching his fists, and tapping his feet whenever he grew restless.
Of course, it could only last so long.
He had just been up and about, completing his designated tasks for the day to keep busy. Of course, that meant time in the kitchen. He wasn't a decent chef by any means. But he at least knew how to clean and prep food. And as much as he wished to use the kitchen knife he was handling to quiet those who cheerfully chatted around him, he mostly kept to himself through it all.
But then those running the kitchen told him to go offer food out to others who may want it. And to aid anyone else who needed help throughout the carts.
And so Genjo Sanzo did.
And he endured.
But he was nearing his limit. Quite obviously so. He found himself helping out; no matter how curt, polite, or otherwise, those around him may have behaved, But they would eventually be cut off rather abruptly. Getting a rather snippy, almost aggressive reaction in response.]
Shut up! We're almost done, okay? Just walk, idiot!!
[He needed nicotine. He just needed to work hard and do what was required, and he could get nicotine. Just a little longer...]
II. Booknerd Problems
[In the end, Genjo Sanzo was an academic. And being in a new place surrounded by many things had left him with many questions that he needed answered. He hated not learning something. He hated feeling like an inept dumbass. And he especially hated thinking he would be useless to any degree.
And so, upon his days exploring the carriages, it was to his subdued pleasure that he found the wonder of the Library.
Of course, his joy was a momentary one. He was just as quickly reminded of one thing that he had been struggling with ever since he first arrived upon the express.
He was missing his reading glasses.
That didn't stop his attempt for knowledge, of course. But no effort and sheer willpower could prevent the inevitable headache of squinting one's eyes and hunching so close to a book that your nose was practically touching it.
His grumbling became audible at a point. Sighing out rather heavily, he pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose between his eyes. The pile of nonfiction books that surrounded him was unable to hide the apparent struggle he had been experiencing.
Damnit.
[He finally spoke up. Not aware of anyone who may have been near him at the time. But he was at the point where he somehow needed to express his aggravation.]
... There is something I need to see for myself... So why does this place have to make it so fucking complicated?
[What was the point of starting everyone off with so little? How could anyone be of any help this way?]
III. Will Sell Soul For Cigs
[As with most of his time, despite how much of a loner he usually considered himself. Sanzo hated to think he was being useless in any way. And so he decided to utilize himself and possibly cease any of the aching boredom that came with simply skulking about the carriages.
It was a rudimentary attempt. But with Sanzo, it was all he had. He made a public journal post, available to anyone who happened to be looking. So now, all he had to do was wait for the tasks to come in.
Which was how he had found himself here now, a stringy young man formally bowed in front of a carriage door, head lowered as he introduced himself. Certainly, he took a far more polite tone than he had with anyone who had met him before this point.]
Genjo Sanzo, Envoy of the Heavenly Emporer of the North. You requested my services?
IV. A Quiet Moment Of Introspection
[It was late at night—when most would have found themselves tucked away into their sleeper carriages, whether willingly or otherwise. But Sanzo was awake. He was sitting at one of the booths within the standard coach, facing out towards the pure black nothingness that was the void during nighttime. Its sight formed a sense of dread that had been all too familiar to him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he sat there, dazed out on thoughts and memories he usually would have preferred to ignore.
He had stared into such darkness before.
It's horrifying.
But as time passed and a slight headache began to throb against his temples, he realized that he was not alone. Not turning to face the other figure sharing the cart but simply speaking out.]
... I'm aware that you're here. It's rude to stare, you know.
[It was his own Genjo Sanzo way of a greeting. Not scolding or admonishing the presence watching him, but simply acknowledging it.]
V. WILDCARD
((OOC: As always, feel free to drop a starter if you have something else in mind/ anything you wish to play out with the old grump monk here. If you want to plot something out, feel free to reach out and PM me or contact me at
no subject
There's really no 'about' about it. It's one of the only predictable things about life on the train.
But, he's Koumyou. So... here we are, with 'about' anyway.
"We just had that mission, so the next thing will be something super strange. It could be a stop on a nice planet, or it could be we all turn into cute little fuzzy animals or something for a day. There's really no telling. One time, I got turned really young again, memories and all, for a whole day."
Koumyou hums in amusement, as if that hadn't been hell at all, and takes a long, ponderous drag off his pipe. "I'm not sure what you would have thought of me in that state. I've changed quite a lot since my name did. I suppose we all do."
Hard not to change with the weight of a sutra bearing down on your shoulders, let alone two. Koumyou taps the hot ashes from his pipe's elegant little bowl out into an empty coffee cup on the bench on his other side.
"Did you know we have an ice cream machine on this train?"
Non-sequitur? Maybe, maybe not. That's just his way.
no subject
Probably not.
But it wasn't easy to picture him being an all-out delinquent-type either.
One-hundred-percent a trouble maker in some way, though. He can see his master being mischievous in his youth. He had to be considering how many rules he brazenly broke well into his adult years.
"An ice cream machine? Why the hell would I care about that?" Genjo did have a little bit of a sweet tooth, admittedly. Far more than he would ever care to admit.
no subject
A liar and a thief, he'd been labeled, despite never remembering doing any such thing. Somehow, stolen food would sometimes turn up in his meager belongings. Somehow, the adults had always known where to look. Somehow...
It hadn't been until fifteen that Houmei had finally started to rebel.
He had tried his hardest to be everything for little Kouryuu that he had lacked for himself as a child. Yes, many of the other monks were still assholes, but at least Kouryuu had always had someone in his corner from the day he had been born to the day Koumyou Sanzo had died.
"Because I'm going to get some," Koumyou declares, "I got bored of it after a while of eating a lot of it, but it's still novel. And it's not too sweet if you don't add a bunch of stuff to it."
He stands up, and this time knows better than to offer his hand. Instead, he pulls his own train-issued backpack from his sleeve and holds it out. "I want this back later, but you can borrow it."
Because, you know, cigarettes and lighters everywhere.
no subject
Still puffing upon his cigarette, savoring every inhale, he took his place beside Koumyou.
Genjo still wanted to clarify certain matters between them now that he had adjusted to his time on the express. But he could hold off on that for now.
"So... What flavors do they have?" At least until he gets ahold of this ice cream.
no subject
"The basics, I think? Vanilla, chocolate. There are all kinds of toppings available for people to put on it, but I prefer it plain. Gets too sweet too fast for me."
It wasn't like Kinzan had freezers. Or like Taisouji had had ice cream (even though that whole place had been a freezer). So it's very novel! To him, anyway! Who knows what Kouryuu's encountered in his travels, even further across the land of Shangri-La than Koumyou had ever roamed?
Koumyou's not going to assume either way.
He keeps up his usual level of idle chatter as they move through the train, waving cheerfully at some of the people they pass areas they're in. Some of them just look very confused in return. Koumyou finds that terribly amusing.
"Devero likes to put honey in his. I tried it, it was..." a gesture with the hand not minding his pipe, a see-saw-like 'eh'. "Different. Not bad, just not my thing."
He'll still take his plain.
"Buttercup is a sweets-fiend, she probably piles all kinds of stuff on there when no one is looking."
no subject
He had a fair bit of experience with his encounters of Koumyou's new family and had developed his own opinions because of it. But more than that he wanted to hear that confirmation from Koumyou's own mouth. As much as he had heard those people talk about Koumyou, he had never heard Koumyou bring them up until now.
"So, you've pretty much surrounded yourself with people who like to rot their teeth out," Not that he was one to talk. But at least Genjo was picky with his sweets. He tucked his hands further into his pockets, bracing himself for bringing up what he was planning to talk about next.
"So that man, he really has taken you on as a lover."
It felt weird saying that to Koumyou of all people. He most certainly never expected his master to be someone who would run off and fraternize with such idiots.
At least Buttercup he could understand. Koumyous' taking on Buttercup was similar to how he had taken on Genjo.
That made sense.
no subject
Before his son asks him about his sex life. Not about being engaged, which is something he can chat even to Buttercup about, but about being 'taken as a lover'.
Koumyou stops dead in his tracks and covers his face with both hands in dismay.
"I might need something stronger than ice cream," he mumbles, muffled, into his own palms.
no subject
Meanwhile, Genjo could only give the blankest and blandest response back to Koumyous loud sudden expression of embarrassment. Mild confusion only expressing itself in the way his eyebrows knitted together.
Did he say something wrong?
Was his master embarrassed about it?
Or was it something else? Was it unrequited? Was it frustration that Koumyou was expressing? Was there a story behind all this? What was that man's relationship to Koumyou, if not a lover like he had stated?
Did he need to shoot Devero?
No.
He would need his gun to do that.
Maybe he should try beating him up again.
Genjo Sanzo did not understand what would cause Koumyou Sanzo to respond in such a way.
no subject
Still.
Koumyou slides his hands down his face hard enough to make his face look weird for a moment there, all with a long-suffering sigh.
"Devero and I are engaged, Kouryuu. He's become important enough to me to become family."
Just, you know, not in the adoption sense. More like Genjo and Buttercup have two dads now, sense, although Koumyou's certain Devero is more than smart enough to not try to dad Koumyou's grown son.
(Unless said grown son wants him to, anyway.)
"The topic of 'lovers' is something I'd rather not go into with one of my kids! Even if you're all grown up now."
no subject
Engaged was far worse than lovers.
Engaged meant that Genjo had the possibility of being stuck seeing Devero's face forever.
Were Sanzo priests even allowed to get engaged? He was pretty sure not. Not that they were known for being particularly devout or strict to the teachings they were supposed to enforce.
But now, he was also starting to understand why Koumyou was freaking out. His eyebrows knotted together as his frown sunk deeply upon his face. He took a step back and lifted his arm a bit in front.
"God damn it! I asked if you 'were lovers' in a romantic sense, not the fucking details of your intimate affairs!!!!"
Although that reaction did confirm that intimate affairs were a thing that was happening between them.
And now Genjo was thinking about it.
And now he felt gross.
Ew.
no subject
Yeah, that's right, he said it. Koumyou digs into his sleeve and produces a generic plastic bottle, uncaps it, and takes a long pull.
Then he holds it out in offer to share.
That's absolutely booze. Strong, strong booze.
"I'm forgetting this part of our chat ever happened, I just decided."
no subject
What the fuck!?
He will not allow this conversation to end in embarrassment like this! He will not allow you to drop this topic so quickly, Koumyou Sanzo!!!
"Must you immediately make the conversation so... So gross!?" No, he is not red. That's your imagination. Genjo Sanzo does not blush. Ignoring the offered alcohol
, for now,he did his damndest to stick to the subject like glue."I just needed confirmation about your relationship with that man!!!"no subject
And too late, kiddo, Koumyou caps the bottle and slides it back into his sleeve to vanish into his ARMs band. He offered!
"That man is my fiance, we plan to get married. So you may as well get used to him, don't you think?" Koumyou continues serenely, and starts to wander in the direction of the fabled ice cream machine again. "His name is Devero, by the way."
no subject
And gross.
So super gross.
"I just needed that confirmation of your relationship with him. That was all."
He says, huffing out and crossing his arms as he follows behind.
no subject
So there. But his son isn't going to let him pretend he'd never asked him about lovers, so Koumyou pauses and turns back to him again, curious.
"You look really red, you know?" Because that's helpful, as is reaching up to attempt to pat his son's cheek with a hand. "Why does it bother you so much? Unfortunate wording aside."
no subject
Only to catch his behavior just as it happened. His body froze as he looked up to meet Koumyous gaze. His expression gave way to a fleeting moment of vulnerability before he almost immediately saved face and returned to a strained deep-set scowl. He was turning his head away and squeezing at his sleeves—an apparent show of his evident agitation.
"'Tch. It doesn't bother me. I think you have shit taste. That doesn't mean you can't do what you want."
no subject
So... very, very slowly, Koumyou takes a step forward. And just as slowly, he reaches to try to lay his hand against the side of his son's face.
"Would you rather I don't try to do this sort of thing? Or is the negative reaction just a reflex?" he asks gently, ignoring the conversation for at least the moment. "Devero and I call this sort of thing a... mental land-mine. We both have quite a few of them, too. You can be honest with me about it, Kouryuu, I won't judge."
Tell him to stop trying to touch him, and he will. Otherwise, Koumyou will just quietly, patiently, gently rub at these sharp edges to try to dull them over time, little by little. That's his way with serious things, isn't it? Like the erosion of the water he's always had such an affinity for.
no subject
He didn't mean to react in such away. Not with Koumyou. It just felt very foreign. Different. Something he wasn't used to experiencing.
He never understood naturally touchy people. Eventually, he adjusted to them if they stuck around him for long enough, but he certainly didn't understand them.
It felt weird and uncomfortable.
But he was prepared for it this time. His body was tense as Koumyou reached out to touch his cheek, his body flinching slightly to the contact but otherwise acting unphased.
"It's nothing," Lies. He hated lying to his master. Especially when Koumyou just told him it was okay to talk to him. But he wasn't sure he was ready to talk about things like that yet. "Just not used to it, is all."
His eyes finally glanced back up, meeting Koumyous with the same sullen pouty expression he always held as a kid.
"It's been a very long time since anyone behaved such away in front of me."
no subject
There's no angst at that statement, at least. Water is wet, the sky is up, and the world the Sanzos come from is a hellish one. His son doesn't have to explain the kind of attention he'd probably garnered as a young boy off on his own. Sheltered as he had been, protected, the shock had probably been... a lot.
Plus...
"...And what having this rank is like, too," Koumyou adds with a sigh, and lets his hand fall away, as well as the topic. "So, let's get ice cream, and discuss my fiance if you want."
Since that did seem to be a point of curiosity, and all. Not that that was unreasonable, of course. Koumyou offers a squinty smile, and turns to lead the way onward once more.
"I can't imagine you've gotten to know him at all yet, have you?"
no subject
"I've gotten to know him enough," He grumbles, as he goes back to trailing off after his master. "He's quite the friendly bastard, isn't he?"
And touchy too, which was even worse considering how, at the time Genjo barely knew him.
"When I first ran across him he was causing a ruckus with some robots, tried to attack me, failed, panicked when he saw who I was, and then started trying to get all friendly and shit before he even introduced himself properly," He dramatically sighed out with that. "Asshole barely even attempted that. Started off by addressing me by name and talking about you before he even warmed me into the topic that he saw some other version of me in the past."
no subject
The older priest is just so unspeakably fond of the both of them. The image of blunt, grumpy Kouryuu trying to figure out Devero, while Devero totally tripped over himself and undoubtedly put both feet directly in his mouth...
"I rather wish I'd seen it. At least he had no reason to try to lie to you about anything; he's so bad at deception of any kind. Even little ten-year-old me saw right through him when the train turned me young one time, and I wasn't even very perceptive!"
Koumyou glances back over his shoulder, smiling one of his squinty, amused smiles.
"He means well, but he's from a very soft world. He wears his heart directly on his sleeve with a big target painted right on it."
Which is, you know.
Fucking.
Terrifying???
For anyone from Shangri-la to find himself so attached to.
"We fought alongside one of you, a version from one of the infinite copies of our world, on a mission. That world was full of illusions, but you were real; the Maten was real. I suspect every layer of the multiverse has its own copy of the sutra that was used to create it."
They've arrived at the dining car, and Koumyou holds the door into it for his son before leading the way to the famed ice cream machine.
"Honestly, Devero was probably just relieved to not have your gun pointed between his eyes again, that's apparently how he met the other you. He startled you in a tense situation."
Which, you know, would do it. With any Sanzo, Genjo or otherwise.
no subject
"Truthfully, if I had my gun i probably would have," He rubbed his fingers at the space between his eyes with that. He was unhappy to be reminded that he was missing one of the two items that hadn't left him since he was a child.
He felt vulnerable without it.
He hated it.
"So you do already know quite a bit about me then," it felt weird, catching up with his master without really having to catch up with him. Koumyou seemed to know bits and pieces about him, and the life he lived already was both relieving and surreal. "The version of me that you met. Buttercup told me about him. Different but the same is how she worded it."
He wasn't used to this whole 'multiple dimension hopping' thing, even if he did understand it.
no subject
And Koumyou would, naturally, prefer his fiance not be scared. He doubts Kouryuu would terrorize him intentionally without a very good reason, which is why he's warning him in advance that it could have that effect.
People aren't as soft as Devero is, where they're from. Especially in Genjo's time, with the minus wave... if they were, they would be dead already.
"I know a bit, yes. There wasn't much time to chat in any kind of privacy, though, there were a great many people to protect while an entire world crumbled. You and I both opted to do that while others like Devero worked on evacuating those we were guarding."
Holding the front line is a Sanzo thing to do, after all. Genjo's not a strange example of the rank in that regard, as he surely knows by now after meeting Sharak.
"I know about the minus wave," Koumyou adds, "I know a little about your friends, and your goal for the West. And I've seen you fight, obviously."
no subject
Speaking of--
"They're not my friends. They're my servants."
Just. Have to make that point known, you know?
"So you know about what happened to the Seiten."
That realization had managed to sink in his stomach a bit. That familiar sensation of guilt on how easily the youkai took it after killing Koumyou.
no subject
They could literally be talking about the weather.
"I can't imagine anything more likely to be powering that minus wave. Something running off steady, unending energy; a twist of restorative power tuned just this side of dissonant, targeting anything below a certain threshold of 'holiness'."
It's as easy to see as the ice cream slowly filling the bowl, to Koumyou Sanzo.
"Did I ever explain the roles all the sutras play in relation to one another?"
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
did I edit just to change my icon? why yes, yes I did
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)