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?
"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!"
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!"
"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."
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.
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.
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."
"Oh..." He looked up and around as if he could catch some shimmer of the evading shrimp, but as usual, saw nothing but empty air and a few stray snowflakes. "Great, now I'm gonna wonder if every tingling sensation I feel as I try to fall asleep is a ghost shrimp."
He tried not to sound so sour about it, but he'd liked being the know-it-all back home.
"Thanks again, by the way." Even if he hadn't been in danger, Ginko was quick to act and preserve his comfort. Or at least his nerves.
"I wouldn't worry about it too much. Even if your world does have them, if they haven't been a problem before, they won't suddenly become one now." Not really the point, Ginko, but okay.
He shrugged a little. "No problem. It's not uncommon for people to have trouble getting used to interacting with them, after all."
JW found himself pouting again. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets as he had to swallow back more and more doses of his own medicine. And the fact that Ginko dished it out so kindly somehow made it worse.
He would get good at mushi. He would. He'd show this Ginko that he wasn't afraid or impressed by them!
He slapped at the back of his neck. Nothing was there.
Ginko raised an eyebrow a little at JW's pouting, but mostly just assumed that he was in denial about having been upset by the mushi. Which wasn't really the whole problem, but that was what Ginko gathered of it.
He shifted his box on his back again, glancing back toward the village. "Should we start heading back, or would you rather stay out here for a bit?"
Go back to owl-eyes city? No thanks. But watching Ginko shoulder his bag reminded him of his quest. With a new urgency, he crouched down to his own and unzipped it.
"That reminds me, I brought you something." He dug out a single, full-size snickers bar. None of that leftover halloween 'fun size' bullshit. There was nothing fun about them, especially after you've eaten twelve. "Here."
He paused, watching as JW went through his bag. He took the candy bar when it was offered and started to open it before pausing, examining it with equal parts curiosity and suspicion.
"This isn't going to... explode or something, is it?" He's got his doubts about future food at this point, okay.
He made a satisfied humming sound of his own before digging in the bag again. "Hope you're not allergic to peanuts."
He probably should have said something about that before hand. Oh well. The next treasure he surfaced with was one of those little handheld fans that took batteries. It was bright blue. He may or may not have stolen it from a Good Will.
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"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.
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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.
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"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.
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"Alright, just hold still. It should come right back out your collar. Probably."
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"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.
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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."
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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?"
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"That really isn't necessary, you know."
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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."
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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."
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Cue full body shudder.
"What WAS that? I wish I had something that worked half as well on ghosts!"
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He tried not to sound so sour about it, but he'd liked being the know-it-all back home.
"Thanks again, by the way." Even if he hadn't been in danger, Ginko was quick to act and preserve his comfort. Or at least his nerves.
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He shrugged a little. "No problem. It's not uncommon for people to have trouble getting used to interacting with them, after all."
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He would get good at mushi. He would. He'd show this Ginko that he wasn't afraid or impressed by them!
He slapped at the back of his neck. Nothing was there.
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He shifted his box on his back again, glancing back toward the village. "Should we start heading back, or would you rather stay out here for a bit?"
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"That reminds me, I brought you something." He dug out a single, full-size snickers bar. None of that leftover halloween 'fun size' bullshit. There was nothing fun about them, especially after you've eaten twelve. "Here."
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"This isn't going to... explode or something, is it?" He's got his doubts about future food at this point, okay.
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He grinned. He was missing two teeth.
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He raised his eyebrows a little, glancing at JW. "...it's pretty good." And it really isn't exploding. Always a plus.
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He probably should have said something about that before hand. Oh well. The next treasure he surfaced with was one of those little handheld fans that took batteries. It was bright blue. He may or may not have stolen it from a Good Will.
"Probably won't need this now but...never know?"
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