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voidtreckerexpress2022-03-27 03:35 pm
smithandwesson) wrote in voidtreckerexpress2022-03-27 03:35 pm
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![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
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
Amusing for certain. But unexpected.
Genjo could only stare with mild bemusement as Buttercup pulled out her knife on him. He was merely standing there as she seemed to approach him with what sounded like a genuine threat.
So it was like that, was it?]
What? Don't call him out for what he is?
[He smirked. He seemed to take the threat with an air of humor. It was a familiar sensation, far more comfortable of an experience than anything he had come across, don't he train so far.
He sighed. His shoulders slacking as the box of produce drooped slightly, not entirely dropping it just yet.]
He's a shitty old man through and through, just as you're a brat who doesn't understand context.
[He was curious about her reaction. He wanted to see what such a wild look was capable of and how far she was willing to go for such a mild slight.]
no subject
Perhaps he doesn't realise how serious she is? Perhaps he is underestimating her for being small. He would soon learn.
Learn sooner than later when he repeated his claim, calling Sanzo a shitty old man again.] You do be being a brat who do no be knowing respect.
[She's dead. Either he will kill her or Sanzo will kill her for pulling a knife on his son. She knows she has his affection and trust, but she will never be him. She knows where she stands.
But she's done it now and she's not someone to do anything by halves. So she lunged forwards, knife coming swiftly towards his side.]
no subject
Just like Genjo didn't hold back with Buttercup's sudden attack.
It was within an instant that he reacted. He was stepping to the side to dodge away from Buttercups' jab. Her forward charge was just what he was hoping for as he bent down in an attempt to grab at her wrist.
If he did manage to take hold of it, she would be finding herself in quite the predicament. Holding onto her firmly, he would step further around to her side and push her down by the back of her neck with his free hand. He would be sure to use his heavier weight against her to push the side of her face down to the floor. Hoping to pin her.]
You're right. The only person I respect is myself.
[It was confirmation of her assertion. Genjo seemed to hold those words proudly as he said them aloud. He was standing his ground as he looked down upon the blade-carrying child.
Yes, he was inciting his. But not quite for the reasons Buttercup assumed. His nose turned upward as he focused on her, his smirk now an outright grin.]
What's so wrong with that?
no subject
Fight smart. Charging a sanzo with a knife from the front was the opposite of smart and so she shouldn't be at all surprised at all to find herself face down on the ground, a hand on her neck, weight holding her down.
She doesn't go still though, kicking her legs, trying to find any give in the pin at all, trying to get free. Never surrendering. She still has her dagger and she slashes with it, trying to cut him even from the impossible angle.]
Everything do be being wrong with that. [How could Sanzo have raised such an arrogant brat? Surely this was something that had happened after Sanzo had died, this disrespect.]
no subject
Surely it must be quite the sight to anyone who happened into the cart. To watch a grown man pinning a wild girl with a knife. ]
And why is that? Tell me.
[His gaze was intense on her. Unwavering and stubborn and yet his words kept their odd composure as he spoke. Refusing to let go of his hold on her until her had managed to get her to calm down.
And the only way for her to calm down was to exert her emotions in a healthy way. With a fucking conversation. ]
no subject
He's still trying to talk to her, as if this was a way to have a conversation. Perhaps it was, he has her trapped and now he wants information.]
Did no one be teaching you respect? He do be being a Sanzo and your master and your father. That do be being three ways you should be respecting him. [How was he a baby brain that didn't know this already?]
no subject
[And despite her struggling, Genjo remained relentless and unyielding. He was not one to underestimate anyone who attacked him-- not even a child.
Perhaps it helped that he had gotten his ass handed to him by a child before.
And he most certainly was going to make sure that never happened again.
No matter how horrible it may have made him look from an outsider's perspective.]
That's right. He is my master. He is my father.
[The whole Sanzo thing? Screw that. He didn't need to respect someone because they had a shitty title. Especially a title he fully understood himself.]
But although he may be those things, I am not his servant. Are you saying I am not allowed to express my opinions and emotions about my father?
no subject
I do be saying you should be showing respect. You can be having opinions and emotions but when you do be being disrespectful about them then you do be being disrespectful to the person.
You did be calling him shitty and that do no even be being true.
no subject
[And there it was, the core difference of both their beliefs as plain as day. The truth that was his Moichi Motsu echoed out in his words as he continued to speak to her.
But perhaps Koumyou did not teach her such things? Did he hold back his most valued of lessons from the young girl he had taken in?]
Koumyou Sanzo is my master and father. He cared for and raised me, but that does not make him any less fallible of a human being. And I treat everyone the same, no matter who they are.
[At this point, he was practically resting on top of her. His eyes were unrelenting as he continued to talk.]
Respect is not held in one words but one's actions. I respect my master. But I also know how much of a shitty old man he is. Those two things aren't incompatible.
There are plenty shitty old men in the world that I have learned to respect over the years.
[And plenty he had learned not to respect worth a damn. But that was a different story.]
no subject
And words and action were the same thing, for the most part. She scowled, slowing her struggles for now.]
You can no be respecting someone and be thinking they do be being shitty. They do be being incompatible. You can no be respecting shitty things.
[Because if he did he would not call them so.]
no subject
[Perhaps it was hard for a young child to comprehend. He knew better than to release his grip on her, though; he continued to talk. He was doing his best to simplify his speaking, seeing if that would perhaps get the point across.]
I'm not prone to see anyone as infallible or perfect. And respect and worship are two very different things. Anyone appreciated in my eyes would take such words with a grain of salt. Otherwise, they don't know me well enough to deserve my respect.
no subject
You can no just be saying things and then be saying we would be understanding you better if we did be knowing you.
[She sighed.] I do no be knowing to be eating your words with salt. [Or whatever he had just said.] You can be thinking someone do no be being perfect and you can be saying someone do be being shitty. There do be being a lot of space in between.
no subject
[All right. Buttercup confusing Genjo's idioms was unobjectively quite adorable. Even he wasn't immune to the innocent confusion of children.
But this child came at him with a knife. And he also knew better than to underestimate her. She stood out to Koumyou after all. But at least he was no longer struggling against her, merely keeping her in place as a wry smile tugged at his lips.]
There is quite a space between those words. But the context behind words can carry many variations. 'Shitty' doesn't mean that you despise a person and can even be used as an affectionate descriptor.
[Damn. Does he have to spend his time teaching this brat the definition of 'subtext'?]
no subject
How do shitty be being affectionate?
[She might as well ask, it's not like she can go anywhere, trapped as she is.]
no subject
I'm teasing him. It's when someone is close to someone else, to the point where honorifics are no longer needed, and such outward respect is no longer required.
[This truly is such a pain in the ass.]
And I am teasing him because he is someone I know so well that I feel comfortable calling out his faults without him taking it offensively.
Truthfully if I called him shitty to his face, he would probably laugh and tease me for being 'mean' or some bull like that.
[Which Sanzo accepted. Koumyou was allowed to call him out just as much as he called Koumyou out.]
no subject
Teasing him, they were so close that he no longer needed to use honorifics or show outward respect. It was... strange. She's seen people of course, on this train, how they treat each other. But she also knows Sanzo, how important he sees such things.
Their first conversation started with him correcting her on how she addressed him, though she had been trying to be polite in her own way, and she had never let herself slip since.
But to know someone so well? Even if he hadn't seen him since he was her age?]
You do be thinking so? [She turned her head to look at him.] But you should be being careful. No all of us can be being so and so you do be bringing us in to your disrespect. What do be being acceptable from you would no be being acceptable from others.
no subject
[Genjo sighed with that. Finally, taking a moment to push himself to a stand, feeling the usually tired ache that came at the end of every quarrel. He didn't drop his guard, though. Buttercup may be close to Koumyo, but she obviously didn't care what implications his relationship with his master held. He would be an idiot not to be prepared for another attempt.
But for now, he relented. Looking down at the young girl as she remained still on the floor.]
I already told you, didn't I? I could care less over how people take what I say. And if people have such paper-thin skin that they care that much about what one guy thinks, they can damn well try to deal with it themselves.
no subject
My skin do no be being like paper. But you should be being careful. This do no be being your world, so you do no be knowing how people do be being here.
[She won't argue further though. It seems he does respect Sanzo. Sort of. In his own way.]
no subject
[That managed to get a smirk out of him. His eyes narrowed, and his eyebrow-raising as he watched Buttercup continue to squirm there.]
Don't tell me you're worried about me now.
no subject
[She scoffed. Attempting to sit up, though her dagger was carefully disappeared beneath her sleeve.]
no subject
[Gosh Buttercup, he's a grown man. He can take care of himself.]
And don't retort by saying it's for Koumyou's sake either. Self-sacrificial bastard he is has no say in how I live my life.
[Yeah... He may be a little salty about something the two of them spoke about earlier.]
no subject
[Not her responsibility perhaps. But certainly her problem.
She sighed again, looking up at him.] You do be being mad at him?
no subject
[Goddamnit, he really needed a cigarette right now.]
It's nothing.
[It was very much something.]
And indeed, nothing to do with you. Even if Koumyou is close to you, you shouldn't have to be directly involved in every personal squabble he ends up having.
[Despite everything, she was still a kid. It was bullshit for any parents' issues to be put out on the kid they were taking care of, and he would be more than happy to call his own master out on that should it ever be the case.]
no subject
She supposes he's right. Though it concerned Koumyou it wasn't her fight and she knows when she's being told to keep her nose out.
She shrugs.] Okay I will no be prying. But if he do be getting all leaky eyed I do be knowing who to be blaming.
no subject
Any leaking that old man does will be due to his stubbornness, not mine.
[He sighed with a huff. Finally, bending down to pick up the pox of produce that he had dropped earlier. Damn. Hopefully, he didn't bruise any of it by mistake.
Whoops.]
Have to say, though. It's relieving.
Knowing that someone is out there keeping an eye to ensure he doesn't go doing something stupid again.
(no subject)