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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
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.
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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."
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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."
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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.
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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."
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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."
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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.
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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."
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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?"
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"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."
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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
He paused.
"I also know that they seem to have a strange reaction whenever they are individually cast in close range. Something dangerous."
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Then, with the very same level of importance in his tone, Koumyou adds, with a nod, "Fully firing two at once does make things weird. Kind of makes reality... I don't know, tingle? Naturally, I've tried it. If it's a partial firing of both, nothing bad happens. If one is fully firing off, it's usually best to keep the other dormant."
no subject
"I've experienced it once," It was a moment of self-admittance. One Genjo wasn't sure he felt good admitting. "I had made contact with another Sanzo Priest far in the west on the borders of Nepal."
With that, he looked down at his bowl, casually scooping up a little with his spoon as he continued.
"Neither of us was aware of what sort of effect such a thing could have, and neither of us was expecting the other to act," A pause, his mind flashing back to the first time he and Sharak had fought side-by-side in that small village. "We decided after that that we would refrain from using either of our sutras close to the other."
no subject
Let alone in Genjo's time, long after Koumyou's death.
no subject
If anything, it made him feel more confident in his abilities knowing that he didn't need to rely on such despite it all.
no subject
"That... would certainly be a combination, yes. And pretty dangerous indeed."
Which of course, implies some combinations aren't as bad as others.
Koumyou finishes getting his ice cream bowl filled up, and heads for one of the tables and benches.
"So, here's how I understand the sutra balance, boiled down to the basics," Koumyou starts, sitting down on a bench, his back to the table.
"Seiten creates light, energy, life. But too much light, energy, or even life, is just as bad as not enough. So, the Uten can push it back. Muten is nonexistence, the true void, and too much of that is also a bad thing, so that's where your Maten comes in, able to push back the darkness. And the Kouten, well, it locks it all into place."
He pokes around in his ice cream with his spoon, and then continues.
"So, firing the Maten and the Kouten at once, you had a banishing sutra shoving while the sealing sutra locked down. Immovable object versus unstoppable force. Hammer ringing against the anvil, and reality itself pinched in between."
no subject
"I see," Well... Shit. Good thing they both stopped the attack as quickly as they had started it. His face only lifted back towards his master as another thought came to mind. "But you carried both the Seiten and the Maten. Was that one of the not-so-dangerous combinations? Considering the implications of one person handling two sutras, I always assumed they were kept separate to keep them safe. But the insinuation is that even being in a similar location could carry a detrimental danger to everything around them, correct? I can't imagine anyone who knew of the sutras agreeing to that without an argument."
no subject
There had definitely been an attempt at braiding them once.
"To be fair, we were drunk. Tenkai didn't take much liquor, Goudai could be goaded into proving a point, and I was everyone's terrible influence."
That hasn't changed, at least. Mostly. Okay, it's changed a lot in degree, but only to someone who had known Koumyou as Houmei as well and that's... a very tiny club at this point.
"Seiten and Maten going off at once has an odd effect, but one I think isn't as immediately dangerous. Meaning it might take an extra second to get there. Thankfully, I was careful when I tried it and didn't go all-out with either. Too much light, basically. How did that quote go that I read recently?"
Koumyou considers for a second, then swallows a spoonful of ice cream, clears his throat, and recites; "If we are blinded by darkness, we are also blinded by light. When too much light falls on everything, a special terror results."
He'd found that quote perfect enough to bother to memorize it.
"That's the Seiten. If I fire it off for real, the light swallows even sound itself... but add the Maten banishing the concept of darkness? Things start to get very, very weird, very, very fast. There's absolutely no balance between them, they're both on the same end of the scale, and we need that balance. The moment I felt things start to tilt, I cut them both off at once."
no subject
"So you have used them at the same time before," Don't think he missed you on that part, Koumyou. His expression was more outwardly curious, despite the inwards worry and concern he did feel on the matter. "... All light without the dark."
But even though one banishes and the other preserves to create the same result--
"The Seiten is also the embodiment of yin energy. Where The Maten embodies yang? That would achieve some balance, wouldn't it?"
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did I edit just to change my icon? why yes, yes I did
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