theattic | Weird-looking, half blind, spook wrangling world-walkers that smoke.

Ginko snorted quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "...You know what I mentioned about getting lucky, and knowing people interested in buying mushi-related objects? There's one guy I've been selling to for years - he can't actually see mushi, himself. But he's got quite a fixation on them."

"Seriously? Now that's gold. So how's that work anyhow?" He shifted hsi backpack a little, almost forgetting he was wearing it. "Somethin' your born with or do you have to have some rotting taxidermy nightmare slash you in the eyes?"

In Deuteronomy's defense, she was not activly rotting.

"...Well, uh." That seemed like a weird thing to say out of the blue, but... he didn't quite manage to keep himself from glancing at JW's left eye.

Ah.

"Usually, it's something people are born with - though it can take a few years for them to actually start seeing mushi, in some cases."

He nodded, easily being able to imagine it being a trait one was born with. Like whistling.

"That's a shame. I'd like to see 'em...what do they look like?"

"Any number of things. Suiko just look like water, for example. Others may look like plants, or somewhat like insects or bacteria. There's..." He pauses, glancing at a swirling shape in the air next to him. He lifts up a hand to usher the mushi over in front of himself, even though he knows JW can't see it.

"...this one looks a little like a shrimp, but with more legs."

"Bacteria..." he parroted. So they knew about that. That was good. While James prided himself in being 'old timey' sometimes, he was still largely ignorant of what things were invented or discovered when and where.

He squinted into the space where Ginko seemed to be looking. He squinted hard and concentrated, but couldn't see so much as a ripple in the air. It was so weird being the one who couldn't see the Other. It was inconvenient and made him feel put-out and a little stupid...but it was also exciting. He had to go on Ginko's word because so far nothing had actually harmed JW. It could all be fake, a controlling lie, or a hallucination on Ginko's part. But he was so strange-looking and everyone in town knew him. Just like him.

And JW was determined to do better than the people of Hawksaw.

"A shrimp, huh...so what's the shrimp one? What's it's whole deal-e-o? Is it going to live in my teeth or make me turn inside out if I whistle the wrong note at it?"

Ginko gave a very quiet laugh.

"No. These are pretty harmless; they just eat shed hair and dead skin." He let the mushi tap its way across his hand, its segmented mouth tickling at his skin.

There it was!

He'd only been here perhaps an hour and he'd already gotten Ginko to laugh. Either he was getting better at this or it really was a dumb assumption.

"Sounds like carpet beetles..."

"I suppose so." He watched it for a moment, then held it out, cupping his free hand behind it so it didn't drift off. "You might be able to feel it if you hold it."

Normally, he wasn't in the practice of just handing mushi to people, but, like he had said, this one was harmless.

James made a small surprised noise in the back of his throat. It wasn't an offer he expected, but he really did want some kind of proof that these mushi existed. And contact with them would no doubt teach him something about them.

"Why not?"

It was hard not to fill silly cupping his hands and waiting for some unseen thing to crawl into it. Suddenly, every hair on his arms, wrapped or not, stood on end. Was he going to feel it biting the dead skin on his fingers? Never had he in his life had any kind of aversion to creepy crawlies, even the ungodly number of spiders in his grandfather's attic, but he suddenly found himself Very Worried.

Noting the concern on JW's face, Ginko added, "Don't worry, it's not going to hurt you."

Ginko nudged the creature gently into JW's hands; it went without protest, content to wander from one source of skin to another. JW wouldn't feel much more than a slight tickling as the mushi meandered across his hands, picking at bits of dead skin as it went.

JW was suddenly too occupied with the bizarre sensation to worry about making faces. He felt the dozens of tiny feet and the feather slight weight of the mushi wandering across his palms like a tiny invisible cow in a field. James was caught between being delighted and repulsed.

"Oh God."

He didn't want to move. He didn't want it to fly off and BE WHERE HE COULDN'T SEE IT but he also wasn't sure just how keen he was on the tickling sensation. It made him want to jerk his hands and rub them against something but what if that squished it?

He was trapped.

To his credit, Ginko managed not to laugh again. He just gave a small grin at JW's reaction. "Do you want me to take it back?"

"NO!" JW jerked away out of reflex but quickly caught himself before he jostled the mushi too much. He suddenly felt it pass from his palm to his wrist and let out a sound that would look like "Eeeyarrggggg," if you typed it out. He angled his arm and gave it a tiny shake. "It's going up my sleeve!"

Oh for--

"Alright, just hold still. It should come right back out your collar. Probably."

JW does not, in fact, hold still. He staggers backwards and starts performing the strangest interpretive dance Ginko has probably ever seen.

"Aah!" He shrugs his backpack off onto the snowy ground and then he finally stops moving, shoulders around his ears, arms out like a scarecrow. "It's eating my scar tissue!"

This was not how he'd wanted this to go at all.

"Okay, just... hang on a second. It won't hurt you, it's just going to kind of clean off the top layer..."

Ginko, that did not sound all that encouraging. He grabbed his own pack again and swung it open again, tugging out a small packet of powder and tipping a tiny bit into his hand. "I need you to tell me where the mushi is, and this stuff should chase it out."

"I don't WANT it to!"

Arms? Sure. Face? Okay. But the thing was eating away at the scar tissue zig zagging across his chest and that was not okay. He was almost too busy being upset about the sensation of a ghost shrimp copping a feel to be upset about Ginko suggesting he dump some mysterious fucking powder down his shirt.

"If I swat it, will it die?"

He sighed, standing by with the powder. "Yes, most likely. What do you want, then?"

Oh. Well. That could fix his problem all together, couldn't it! He lifted his hand and fully prepared to smack the thing to death because how dare it.

Okay seriously now. Ginko wasn't so distressed as to really jump to stop JW, but he did take a couple steps forward, frowning slightly.

"That really isn't necessary, you know."

Ginko's movement was enough to get his attention with his nerves going into overdrive because invisible shrimp. Now he was faced with a problem--probably the first real problem concerning their interactions since the cellphone raygun incident.

He really wanted the shrimp dead. Ginko didn't appear to want the shrimp dead. The shrimp was eating the dead skin on his left nipple. Things are stressful. JW suddenly noticed the powder Ginko had fetched and from the way he stood there with that look on his face, James was swift to assume this thing happened a lot with people encountering mushi for the first time.

A short internal war took place before JW begrudgingly hooked a finger on his shirt collar and pulled it open.

"It's in there."

Ginko nodded, walked up, and, without another word, blew the powder in his palm right down JW's shirt. The mushi stopped what it was doing and seemed to jump a little before scrambling out of the way of the cloud of powder, up and around it, and finally floating its way out of James's collar.

With the mushi out, Ginko lifted a hand to wave it away, and it it drifted off through the air in search of some other food source. "There you go. Simple as that."

JW couldn't resist swatting a time or two at the sensation of the panicking mushi leaving his shirt. Luckily it was off and drifting above his head by the time he started patting his shirt down in ernest.

Cue full body shudder.

"What WAS that? I wish I had something that worked half as well on ghosts!"

"Mushi repellent. That particular type is specialized to this species of mushi." He stepped back and dusted the remnants of the powder off his hands. "It's the same basic formula as the cigarettes, though; just altered a little and dried and ground."

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