thenearshore | I'm just a mean green mother from outer space

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I'm just a mean green mother from outer space

Who: Gojyo (

erogappa) and Kurama (

herbalsupplements)
What: First annual Demon Pride festival
When: 12 April
Where: Xochipilli's temple
Warnings: Drug use!

"The plants will only eat you if you're smoking, Gojyo." His impression of Kurama is terrible -- it sounds nothing like him. "Smoking is bad for my bees, Gojyo." Seriously, that guy is just plain strange. It's not like he'd had his bees on him at the school! ...Or maybe he had. Gojyo pauses at the edge of the greenery and considers that for a moment. He could have been full of bees. There were definitely stranger things than that happening in heaven these days.

He'll have to ask about that.

But for now, he sucks down the last drag off his cigarette, stomping the filter out in the dirt with a brutal twist of his boot. Kurama's promised him a non-smoky alternative to cigarettes, which is the only reason he's willing to risk life and limb in the fox's smoker-eating jungle. (Well. It's not the only reason. But it's the only one he's willing to cop to, even to himself.)

"Oooooooooi!" he calls, stepping his first ginger step onto Xochipilli's land. "The currently not smoking god Dionysus is comin' to pay a call to some bee-lovin' fox, so nothin' better eat me!"

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Kurama folds down to the ground with a bit more grace, fills the kettle with water, and flicks it on. "All spirit animals may learn to use plant magic," he explains as he goes, "but few bother with it these days, and fewer still pursue anything near my level of mastery." Which is actually a fairly unpleasant thought. Maybe he should take on students when he finds the chance? Something to consider later.

"I'm surprised you haven't met any of my kind, though. Have you not lived in Japan before now? We're fairly common here."

Gojyo watches Kurama work out of the corner of his eye. "Nope. China." Is he really just going to break up a cigarette in a cup of hot water? It sounds simple enough - wonder why it's never occurred to him to try?

"And I don't know anybody would could make a plant eat cigarettes like that... and pretty sure I know a guy who would have, if he could," he added, wryly. "He can control his own body's energy, and he can use it to heal other people, but he can't do plant stuff." The vines are different, and none of Kurama's business anyway. "Nobody I know could do stuff like that."

China? Really? Kurama could swear they have a respectable fox population of their own, but it is an admittedly large country, and one he hasn't visited in centuries.

The water is nearly ready, so he drops a pinch of tobacco from the bowl at his side in one mug and a much smaller pinch in the second. "Simple plant manipulation requires a great deal of precision in energy control, and the semi-autonomy to only eat people actively smoking is hardly simple. Which isn't to speak ill of your friend--healing has its own set of difficulties, many of which I couldn't begin to tackle without neglecting my current skills."

The kettle beeps; Kurama removes it from the heating unit, pours steaming water into the mugs, and then drags the bucket closer, because the smell already tells him this is going to get unpleasant. "I also have friends who use their energy as projectiles, swords, and a means of purification, to name but a few."

Gojyo frowns at the tiny pinch of tobacco that Kurama drops into the cup. Does he really expect such a small amount to have any effect? That couldn't have been more than a single cigarette's worth of tobacco... and if Kurama thinks that a single cigarette is going to sate Gojyo's addiction, then he's got another think coming.

Well, he mentally shrugs, he can also just ask his host to pour him another one in ten minutes. And another after that, and after that, until the man gets tired of him and kicks him out. ...That actually sounds like a fun afternoon, he chuckles quietly.

"Huh?" Oh, right. He was talking about something. "Yeah, he, uh... he can do that too." He lifts his head finally -- the tea smells like an ashtray that was left out in the rain, which isn't all that surprising. It's not the worst thing he's ever considered putting in his mouth! "The projectile thing. So is that ready?"

"If you want it to be weak as a baby. Four minutes this time, and then we'll adjust accordingly." He may not have dabbled in tobacco infusions specifically before, but Kurama knows a thing or two about tea-making--and, more importantly, about not scalding the shit out of his tongue. It's rather obvious Gojyo's getting bored already, however, so he slouches into a slightly more comfortable position and redirects the conversation.

"And what do you do, if not energy manipulation?"

Hey, Gojyo has no idea how long tea takes. Gojyo doesn't make tea. Gojyo drinks tea, but he drinks tea that's handed to him at the perfect time and strength and temperature because when he tries to make tea it comes out strong enough to kill grass.

Some of that impatience might also be wishful thinking, and this conversation's taken a sharp left turn into things he didn't want to talk about. "Nothing," he replies, a bit too harshly. "I'm only half." He holds Kurama's eye in clear challenge -- you want to make something of it?

Kurama meets Gojyo's challenge with simple, honest confusion. "The only difference blood makes is giving you the option to use human energy instead of demon. Did no one train you?" Or perhaps they did, but not sufficiently? He knows human energy is supposed to be more difficult to access the first time, but that's rarely an obstacle in demon families.

Train him? Kurama's talking like the stuff Hakkai can do -- or the stuff Kurama can do with plants, for that matter -- is just a matter of somebody sitting you down and explaining it. It can't be that easy, can it?

"No," he says slowly, shaking his head. "Nobody trained me." None of the other demons he knew growing up could do anything like Kurama can... at least, not that Gojyo was aware of. And sure, they've run into some on the road who could do crazy shit -- the guy whose arm turned into a big metal blade comes to mind -- but he'd assumed those were... well. He didn't know what he thought those were!

"We kinda lived outside of town." It's not a lie, at any rate. Gojyo leans forward, suddenly very interested in what Kurama has to say. "You think I could do stuff like that? Like control plants?"

"Of course. Not plants," he clarifies, "because you're not an animal, but there are any number of disciplines you could learn with the right master." Kurama's seen demons with any number of ridiculous abilities over the years, ice control and killer yo-yos and creating explosives out of thin air, but all of those were things that could be learned to some degree. It's only a matter of finding one's aptitudes, which could admittedly be difficult if one lived in isolation.

"Do you want lessons? I usually save the beginner's stuff for when I have kids of my own, but we're not exactly running short on free time."

Does he want... seriously? This is all going so fast. Fast and unexpectedly! First Kurama offers him tobacco tea, and now he's offering him demon lessons? Is this...

...is this what demons were like with each other? "Yeah," he nods, before Kurama can take the offer back. Banri had never said anything about powers or stuff like that, but Banri had been an idiot. Gojyo grins, shyly scratching the back of his head. "I mean, if you think I could."

It doesn't surprise Kurama, anymore, how a little well-applied kindness can turn surly into sweet--it had been working for Hiei and Yusuke both back home and has long since worked its magic on him--but it still warms his heart to recognize it in action, and he can't help but smile back.

"Of course! It may take a while, but anyone can learn with enough practice and the right teacher."

And if his nose is any judge, the tobacco's steeped plenty now. "Now, shall we see how terrible this tea is?"

He's gonna learn magic! Not plant magic, but maybe ki-balls like Hakkai can do! "Yeah!" he agrees, enthusiastically snatching up one of the cups. "Here's to magic tricks!" And he downs the whole stinking thing in two big gulps.

Even drinking that fast, he can still taste it. "That's disgusting," he groans, setting the cup back down. It's exactly like licking an ashtray. "Yuck."

Kurama laughs, then holds his breath as he takes a drink from the remaining mug--and oh, oh this is terrible, this was the worst decision ever, the grass is already pushing a jug of clean water closer as he swallows what may be the most disgusting thing he has ever put in his mouth. He sets his cup back down just a little harder than necessary and goes for the water.

"I take it back, you can smoke all you want," he says when he's rinsed some of the horror away. "I'm not making anyone drink that hell-water."

It's not that bad, Gojyo wants to say -- it is, but he's not going to wimp out and admit it -- but he only gets as far as "it's when he has to clap his hand over his mouth to stop from being explosively sick.

His stomach is not happy about what he's put in it. He warily pulls his hand away from his mouth, ready to slap it back on if he needs to.

"Okay," he agrees after a moment, nodding cautiously. "That's terrible, you're right."

"Here." He sets the water down in front of Gojyo and pulls the bucket closer to them both, since it looks like they might need it after all. Kurama has a few advantages right now, a full demon's constitution versus a smaller and weaker quantity of tea, but even he kind of wants to throw up.

"Now I understand why they saved this for ritual use. Ugh."

He sideeyes the bucket with disgust. He doesn't need that. He's not going to be sick. He's not going to be sick.

He's not...

...shit. Look away, Kurama.

He wipes his mouth shakily with the back of his hand when he's done. "Ritual... what kind of garbage drinking..." Whoops, just the thought of garbage drinking has his face back in the bucket again. He might need to stay there for awhile.

Kurama closes his eyes, as much to force his own gag reflex into submission as to leave Gojyo his dignity. Next time, he's leaving stupid ideas to the internet where they belong.

"It's supposed to induce visions if you take enough. All my sacred plants do." That sounds--oh, that sounds so stupid now, he's going to lean forward and rest his forehead against the heels of his palms. "I'm the god of religious stoners."

He's pretty sure there's nothing left in his stomach... and he's pretty sure that's supposed to mean that he can stop feeling nauseated. With a groan he sets the bucket aside and flops on his back onto the grass -- you're empty, he mentally yells at his stomach. Stop flippin' out, you're totally empty. His stomach doesn't believe him, but at least he's only occasionally gagging now, and not actively puking up ashtray water.

Ugh.

"Stoners?" The sky is spinning; Gojyo closes his eyes, but that just makes things spin faster. "Oh you asshole, is this gonna make me see shit?" His vision's already a little... echo-y? But it feels more like the tail end of a heavy drunk than anything else, with the spinning and his eyes not wanting to focus and the -- stop it -- nausea. "God my stomach's killing me."

"You need to take more to start seeing things. I think. Accounts were imprecise." The stench of vomit and drowned cigarettes is hitting him right in the sinuses; Kurama reaches his energy into the grass beneath the bucket and sends it crowd-surfing off towards the edge of the pyramid. "Drink some water, it should dilute things."

"No way." Putting anything in his stomach would just be giving that traitorous bastard something to puke back up again, and he isn't falling for it. "I'm never drinking anything ever again. My stomach's on strike."

As are the rest of his senses. He might not be seeing things but he's definitely no longer sober. Gojyo stares up at the sun, wonderingly. "I knew this guy once, and he had two sets of eyelids. One was kinda see-through, so he could, like, close 'em and still see stuff." He'd been a gross little shit, too. Gojyo raises up one hand, alternating blocking the sun and letting it shine in his eyes. "You think I could learn to do that?"

"That's a nictitating membrane," Kurama answers, lifting his head again now that he can breathe without hating life. "If you weren't born with them, you need surgery, a transformative spell, or a body-sharing bargain with someone who does to get them."

Body-sharing. He'd almost forgotten that he can change forms at will again, and he can't remember any of the reasons why that might be a bad idea, so he does. It's easy as anything now, easy as breathing, and then he can feel a light breeze on his ears and suddenly bare arms and everything is wonderful.

Surgery or a spell sounds like too much effort, so Gojyo casually discards that idea (he didn't really want to look anything like Fung anyway), and goes back to playing with the sunlight between his fingers. Bright, dim. Bright, dim. The webbing down in the crook on his fingers turns a brilliant pink when he holds it up to the light (and it's not any bigger than anybody else's finger-webbing, regardless of what some stupid monkeys might say about kappa), and against the blue sky it's actually kinda pretty.

"Hey," he begins, turning to Kurama to share this bit of brilliance... but then he stops, mouth agape.

"Uh. Hey." He blinks again, but Kurama's fluffy ears don't vanish. "Am I seein' things, or are you all silvery now?"

Edited 2016-08-09 23:10 (UTC)

One ear turns in the direction of Gojyo's voice automatically. "You're not seeing things. This is my demon form." Even his voice is different, deeper than that of his human body, and "all silvery" is a fair description: his longer, straighter hair, the pointed ears on top of his head, and the richly-furred tail at the base of his spine are silver; his shoes, pants, and belted sleeveless robe all white.

Kurama sighs. "I wish my clothes wouldn't change, though. This outfit's supposed to be for thieving."

All that brilliant red hair is gone, just like that. Gojyo's suddenly very aware of the red strands at the edges of his own vision and, irritated, he roughly combs them back.

"I wish I could do that." If he were sober he wouldn't have said that. Hell, if he were sober he wouldn't have thought it, not really. Immediately he realizes what he said, and falls back on the grass again, cloud gazing in embarassment.

"Oi, if I smoke are your plants gonna eat me?" he asks as he flops back, his voice just a hair too loud. "Tell 'em not to, okay? I need a smoke."

"Just..." he waves a hand--fingers delicately clawed--in the vague direction of where I can't smell it. "Take it downwind of me. The plants will leave you alone." On that note, the bucket comes sliding back over, its contents emptied past the bottom step with the power of the Legendary Bandit while they've been here.

It seems odd, though, that Gojyo should want to change forms. He's pretty decent-looking, right? Kurama opens his eyes again--gold now, unlike everything else about him--and yeah, he may be the hairiest kappa he's ever met but that doesn't make Gojyo ugly. "Why do you want to change?"

Zero warming up there. Yeah, fine, Kurama will concede that he's not entirely sober himself.

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