( open. )

[epiprocta]

WHO: Gen & OTA TO KENOMA.
WHAT: A Very Special Episode about how good and fun it is to stop smoking.
WHERE: Around the Citadel, Achamoth.
WHEN: Early-to-mid Visoseri, starting early during the Rise to the Challenge event.
WARNINGS: None at the moment!

i. training fields ( closed to LIEM )

[ It's not like he actually enjoys physical activity in any capacity, whether it be fighting or training or labor. The construction work he'd done back home and the training he does here are mostly the same to him -- just a job, a means to an end, and something "productive" he can do to vent his energy and keep himself occupied. Gen can't really imagine what kind of muscleheaded jock actually finds this shit fun or rewarding in its own right.

That said, the taste of a smoke right after a period of strenuous work almost makes it worth it.

Late in the afternoon, after one of the semi-regular group training sessions has wrapped up and the equipment's been mostly put away, with just a few stragglers still hanging behind to chit-chat and do final cool-downs. From where he's walking by, Liem might hear the sound of a soft click, a pause, then a deep sigh of contentment. Sensitive as he is to smells, it won't take him much effort to pinpoint the bitter tang of cigarette smoke; a plume of gray directs the eye to where Gen's leaning against one of the fences surrounding the training field, looking perfectly at home as he takes another deep drag.

And, feeling that glance directed his way, he looks over. Lucky for Liem, he's caught Gen before he could pocket his cigarettes once more, and since he's in a good mood he gives a cant of the head before holding out the pack in his direction. His words come slightly muffled around the cigarette in his mouth: ]

What, you want one?

ii. citadel grounds ( the sickly option )

[ It's a nice sunny afternoon, warm but not too warm, clear skies, etc. And anyone walking through the citadel grounds, might hear the sound of a low groan and a hoarse voice calling to them: ]

-- hey. [ It only takes a glance over to spot where Gen is slumped on a bench under the dappled shade of a tree, looking thoroughly pale and miserable and unwell. But more importantly, he gives a few shallow coughs before mumbling: ] Get this thing off me.

[ 'This thing' being a stray cat that's draped itself over his throat and chest, apparently having the best nap of its life, using him as a bed while it soaks up the sun. In typical cat fashion, of course it's made itself right at home on the place where it's least welcome at the moment. And while Gen really does look like he's having a rough time of it, and would appreciate being freed of that weight on his chest without having to unscrunch himself from the inglorious position he's huddled himself into ...

The cat looks really cute. And comfy. It's even purring a little! Maybe it'd be fine to just let it continue napping there. ]

iii. training fields ( the cranky option )

[ There's sounds of a commotion coming from the training field. Some sort of argument, it sounds like? And while the shouting and the snarling dies down by the time any concerned interlopers show up, one might spot the way several guards hurriedly exit the grounds, looking disgruntled and muttering something begrudging amongst themselves. One is nursing a bleeding nose leaving a trail of red spots on the ground.

And left on the otherwise-empty training circle is one (1) horrible teenager scuffing a hand through his hair, looking thoroughly roughed-up and irate. He's sporting a few scratches and a freshly-welling bruise on his cheek himself, but either hasn't noticed or doesn't care. Instead, the moment anyone even peeks into the training field, he's quick to turn on them with snarl. ]

-- the hell're you looking at.

iv. corridors ( the tired option )

[ Some stupid hour of the night finds the corridors of the Citadel largely quiet and empty. Almost peaceful. But well ... here he is, wide awake and dying for a smoke.

Anyone who glances down the corridor towards the balcony at its very end, illuminated by cold moonlight and framed by the swing of the door left open, might spot Gen where he's practically draped over the railing surrounding that little balcony, staring listlessly out at nothing.

This really would be a nice place to smoke and relax. But instead, here he is with his nerves rubbed raw by withdrawal, practically shivering from the way he can't quite calm down. Even the slightest noise coming from the corridor has him jerking around to glance over like a spooked dog ready to attack. Sorry not sorry if you were just trying to get to your room and instead find yourself being stared down by this incredibly tired but frazzled-looking youth. ]

v. wildcard

[ I'm open to just about anything! Please feel free to hit me with whatever, but otherwise I'm around at databomb, inktrashing#5307 on Discord, or right here on the event plotting post if you'd like to plot things first or want me to shotgun some ideas at you to see if anything piques your fancy! ]

Comments

narc mode activate

[sterngaze]

[Liem likes to keep busy, and that means that on group training days, he can be found down at the training grounds more often than not. Whether he’s keeping in-practice at the archery range or getting his ass kicked at hand-to-hand, he’s a common enough sight in the mornings, and on overcast days he can be persuaded to show up in the afternoon as well. Physically, the training can be punishing—sometimes brutally so. But he appreciates the chance to stop overthinking for a bit, which is as good a reason as any to keep at it.

This particular afternoon finds him trekking across the training field on his way back to his own chambers, fondly anticipating a bath and then perhaps an evening trip into the city. Achamoth unsettles him more the more familiar he becomes with it, but it’s still a step up from the oppressive air of the Citadel itself. His thoughts are interrupted, however, by the click of a lighter and the distinctive smell of burning tobacco, and he pauses to regard Minegishi where he’s leaning against the fence.]

Oh… no, thank you. I don’t smoke.

[He takes a few steps closer, keeping his expression passably neutral, but stops deliberately upwind to reduce the offense to his nose. Even in his own country, where tobacco was still lauded for perceived medicinal properties, he’d never been especially tempted to take up smoking. The revelation about tobacco’s long-term ill effects on overall health hasn’t made him any more eager to try it. After all, even at age 121, he still has most of his life left ahead of him.

Which makes him wonder how Minegishi got into a habit like that.]

Is it a common practice where you come from?

y'all goody two-shoes types gotta learn to live a little 😒

[epiprocta]

[ Too bad. Feeling the way Liem's gaze had fixed on him for a moment, Gen had briefly entertained the thought of how funny it would be if the other didn't actually know what smoking was. Imagine how funny it would be to try and get this weird, stuffy (supposed) half-vampire to try smoking for the first time. Would he take to it any differently from a human? Or would it just be the expected (but still very funny) coughing fit?

Alas, Liem does seem to recognize the habit for what it is so Gen just shrugs as he pockets the pack once more. ]

Suit yourself.

[ He sure won't complain if he can keep more of them for himself.

As for Liem's question, Gen gives it a moment's consideration as he leans back more heavily against the fencing. ]

S'common enough. I hear a lotta talk about how the 'younger generation' [ even if he doesn't do the gesture, the invisible airquotes around those words are obvious -- as if the old farts who write the news know anything about what the youths are up to ] don't smoke as much, but s'not rare, either. And basically everyone around me smoked as I was growing up.

[ His father, his stepmother, all his father's employees, so on and so forth. Coming from a blue-collar background, it would have been harder to find people who didn't indulge in the habit. The practiced ease with which Gen handles his vice makes it obvious it's not a new habit, either -- he started young. ]

Why, people don't smoke where you're from? Thought it was pretty universal.

[sterngaze]

[Liem watches wordlessly as Gen puts his cigarettes away, thinking. They may be "colleagues" in only the loosest sense, but he should still probably be making some attempt to find common ground with the younger man. It's just that he has very little experience connecting with even Taldan delinquent teenagers, let alone those from a world and country he's never visited.]

People did, but it wasn't as ubiquitous as that. And they smoked using pipes, instead of rolling tobacco in paper.

[He can only be thankful that smoking didn't have the same level of popularity in his own country as in Gen's. His nose had enough to contend with in Taldor's cities without tobacco smoke being added into the mix. Of course, that's just one more difference separating the two of them—but still, Liem was young too once upon a time. He can at least attempt to dredge up an ice breaker before sticking his nose into Gen 's personal business.]

I actually did try it when I was younger. But [—a small, rueful smile crosses his expression—] it was hell on my lungs. And just about all the rest of me.

[epiprocta]

[ ... he can't tell if Liem is gearing up to give him a lecture about his smoking, or if this is just the guy making small-talk. Gen fixes a flat stare on Liem for a moment, trying to gauge his intentions, before offering a half-hearted shrug. He'll let this play out for a little longer, he supposes. ]

That sounds like a you problem. [ He's still going to be an insufferable shit though, apparently. ] Dunno how young you were when you tried it, but plenty of kids where I'm from start pretty young.

[ Granted, he was probably on the extreme end of having started young but -- whatever, mitigating circumstances or not, he probably would have started eventually anyway, given how many smokers were around him back home.

A deep drag before he pulls away the cigarette, idly glancing at it as he taps the ash off to the side. ]

There's pipes here, too. And these're unfiltered -- more oldschool than I was used to back home. Stronger. Caught me off-guard at first, but they've been growing on me. S'a good flavor, great for taking the edge off things.

[ You're welcome for this totally unsolicited review of Achamoth-brand cigarettes, Liem. ]

IV - Monopolized ur inbox ig 😞

[lachtara]

[ It's certainly late at night. So late, in fact, that he doesn't expect to run into anyone on this brisk walk.

Emet-Selch makes his way down the hallway with a warm cup of tea that he's retrieved from the kitchen. His hair is a disheveled mess given he's just emerged from a few hours' sleep; He is wearing a monstrous dark blue robe with brownish-gray fur lining around the neck and wrists; and on top of it all, he looks even more tired than usual.

Being up this late is not strange for him. Sleep is rarely restful and he often wakes up with a start during the night. It takes a while before his mind lets him again, so the only productive use of the time is to get something warm to drink.

On the path back to his room he spots a familiar boy draped over the nearby railing. Emet-Selch approaches him calmly, as if there is nothing amiss, though it is painfully obvious something is wrong. ]

Why is it that whenever our paths cross, you look as though you've engaged in some manner of fracas? I'm beginning to think this is a cause for concern.

[ He takes a sip of tea. ]

please, i am delighted to get to gather your tags close to my chest ☺️

[epiprocta]

At least Gen slowly calms down once he recognizes the person coming ambling down the hallway, apparently having deemed the circumstances nothing worthy of actual aggression. Though he's still very obviously twitchy and restless, rubbing at his leg with the other foot in a fruitless attempt to soothe his frazzled nerve, Gen mostly goes back to draping himself bonelessly over the balcony railing as Emet-Selch joins him.

And for his kind, considerate(?) meddling, Emet-Selch is answered with a moment of silence. Gen's eyes are edged with red from exhaustion, his gaze dark from under the shadow of his brow as he squints dubiously at the other. Then after that dramatic pause, all he has to offer is a hoarse croak:

"-- the hell is a 'fracas'?"

His voice sounds terrible and he knows it, but he's still going to be annoyed if Emet-Selch points it out. Also, why does Emet-Selch have to go busting out such weird words when he's having a hard enough time just stringing together a single coherent thought at the moment? Gen groans before burying his face in his arm, scuffing a hand through his hair; his next words come bleary and muffled.

"I'm fine. S'just ... I can't sleep." His shoulders rise and fall as he sighs dramatically. "'m used to it, it's just been a while."

🥺

[lachtara]

It is not difficult to see the signs of vices within people. After years upon years of experience, it is something he has come to see in various forms, by many people, at a number of ages. Though he can't put a finger on which 'vice' it may be without asking, the smell is always a reliable indicator.

Emet-Selch takes another sip of tea and turns to head back the way he came. "With me." He says as an order to follow as he takes a few steps ahead, or perhaps it is a suggestion?

But in regards to his other question, regardless of what he does, it is explained accordingly. "A Fracas is a disorderly brawl, to wit, it looks like you are a loyal participant in." Or training, as it were. "Though I dare say mere fisticuffs is not the culprit this time."

[epiprocta]

"Huh?"

Exhausted as he is, with a persistent haze clogging up his thoughts, Gen's a beat slow to respond to that invitation. And while the prospect of having to move anywhere in this state isn't particularly appealing ... well, whatever. Not like staying here's doing him much good, either. Gen ends up stifling a graceless groan under as he peels himself away from the balcony railing and shuffling along after Emet-Selch.

"I mean ... I was sparring with the guards earlier." And things had devolved into more of a mess than usual when something one of them said had rubbed him the wrong way. So, yes, Emet-Selch isn't wrong that he'd been involved in a 'fracas.' Emet-Selch also isn't wrong that that's not the crux of the issue here. Gen makes another disgruntled noise under his breath before mumbling, "S'not why I couldn't sleep, though. Been trying to quit smoking."

And clearly, that's been going great.

ii....

[gravings]

[ Oh, it's Gen... but more importantly, a cat.

Gray beelines over with an unspecified treat magically produced in hand. This she offers to the cat, which graciously deigns to eat the treat and purr some more. With her oblation made, she begins to gently pet the cat on the head. None of this is helping Gen, but she did say she wanted to be more selfish. ]

i laughed so hard at this, thank you

[epiprocta]

[ Gen, predictably, does not like this development very much, giving a hoarse groan. ]

Are you fuckin' kidding me ...

[ Too bad he really doesn't get much say in this situation. Though Gen does make a bleary attempt to shove the cat off his chest to discourage any further bullshit from Gray, moving at all feels like hell and a half when every muscle in his body aches. And the cat certainly doesn't seem in the mood to humor such a half-baked attempt to shoo it aside. It only gives a loud meow in protest before relocating itself to settle right against his clavicle, purring loudly under Gray's gently ministrations, its tail smacking against his face and meriting another coughing fit.

Gray ............. are you really going to just let him suffer like this .......... (She should.) ]

yw...

[gravings]

[ She watches the cat's tail smack Gen in the face for longer than she probably should (it's weirdly captivating) before carefully picking the cat up from under its arms and cradling it to her chest. This is more to save the cat from further swatting than to save Gen from the cat, but she is a little curious to know why he seems especially miserable today. She and the cat peer at him in tandem, their open stares a mirror of each other. ]

Good afternoon, Minegishi... Did you catch a cold?

[ Can they even catch colds?? ]

[epiprocta]

[ Briefly, Gen considers chewing Gray out for taking that long to move the damn cat off his face, and that deliberation manifests in the way he narrows his eyes at her, lips pressed together thinly. But the moment he opens his mouth to speak and the first thing that emerges is a coughing fit -- yeah, never mind, he's saving his breath for more important shit.

He instead settles for giving a low groan as he gingerly unscrunches himself from his spot on the bench, then rescrunches himself in a slightly different configuration. God, everything feels ... shitty. Gen coughs once more as he rests his head against the bench's back, clearing his throat before speaking up hoarsely: ]

M'not sick. [ He says, before coughing some more. ] Been trying to quit smoking.

[ Which, obviously, has been going great. His shoulders rise and fall as he sighs heavily. ]

Just wanted to get some fresh air when that asshole [ tipping his head blearily towards the cat ] made himself at home.

iv/wildcard??; sorry not sorry

[zauneyete]

[ Pop. Click. Pfft.

The pop metallic, followed by the sound of a thumb brushed against a strip of metal. It's obvious what the sound is. Especially when one is going through the arduous process of quitting smoking.

It's not even on purpose. Silco just happens to be a night owl coming in from the Entertainment district, smelling distinctly of cigars and alcohol, trudging through the corridors on his way in. Which led, of course, to the balcony next to the one Gen was occupying. They're spaced enough that the whiff of it only faintly wafts on the wind, but not so close that Silco's noticed Gen, up until the moment that he leaned his back against the balcony, to blow smoke rings into the air.

He has that feeling, that one gets, when there's someone around. He turned his head, and waved, with his cigar. ]

Evening.

thank you silco, you're the hero the kenoma deserves

[epiprocta]

[ Silco should be able to feel that someone is around. Because when he glances over, he'll see Gen fixing a truly acrid death-glare on him.

If looks could kill, Silco would be exploding into a million finely-ground pieces of mincemeat right about now. But alas, they can't, so all Gen can do is blearily fantasize about scrambling over the gap between the balconies and hurling him bodily over the railing. ]

... are you doing that on purpose?

[ The smoking, he means in part. At this distance the waft of cigar smoke is just potent enough that he can taste it tantalizingly at the tip of his tongue, but not strong enough to actually sate the cravings that have been gnawing incessantly at the edges of his thoughts, and Gen stifles a groan as he buries his face in his arm, practically draping himself over the railing.

This sucks. It sucks an unbelievable amount. It's what's loosened his tongue more than usual, and his words come muffled and sloppy (and terribly hoarse from a day of on-and-off coughing) as he gripes, ]

A fucking cigar. Hidden knife, your face. S'like you're trying to make yourself look like the scummiest crime boss from some shitty B-tier mobster movie. D'you know how lame that is?

[zauneyete]

[ Silco blinked once, twice, three times. Of course, given that one of his eyes didn't close, it looked more like a wink each time, but unfortunately he couldn't help that.

He was, after all, literally the boss of a city that committed constant crimes, and was thus a crime boss in every sense of the word. He ashed his cigar over the side, casually, and chose to not take offense. He was, after all, just trying to enjoy a cigar after a long evening spent absorbing some of the finer details in the entertainment district. ]

I don't know what a movie is.

[ He finally said, bluntly. ]

What's wrong with enjoying a cigar? [ A crooked smile. ] Don't tell me you like the smell of cigarettes, but not cigars.

[ It was, after all, impossible for him to know that Gen was going through the dreaded nic fits ]

[epiprocta]

[ What is with people here and the stupid places they come from? What the hell do these people even do to kill time in worlds without television or movies or games? Gen ends up stifling a prolonged groan into the fold of his arms, his shoulders rising and falling with a heavy sigh; he doesn't bother raising his head when he speaks again, giving a vague wave of the hand to accompany his muffled words. ]

... a movie. It's like a play. [ Surely, they have plays where this guy comes from, right? ] Except it's ... made into a moving picture. So you can see it whenever. Like a book, but showier. With sound, and stuff.

[ He is not going to talk about cigars, because thinking about smoking right now makes him feel like his nerves are about to squirm out of his flesh. And Gen tries desperately not to dwell on the faint, bitter notes he can taste in the air. ]

M'saying you're like a villain from one of those. Like you're trying to look like the most obviously shitty person around. ... that's lame. You're lame.

[ It's not like his usual repertoire of insults is terribly eloquent to begin with, but the brain fog of withdrawal's just further kneecapped it at the moment. ]

II with kittens, who are our true masters

[killandrecycle]

[The girl would have gladly walked past without even so much as a glance, but as misfortune had it, she'd been noticed. She turns, with a little frown on her face, only to find someone who looks positively miserable. More importantly, she finds a cute cat. Poor Gen is quite literally ignored as she moves towards the comfy feline, who she almost instantly starts petting. Its a few moments after that she deigns to address the cat's bed.]

Naw. They look comfy.

[epiprocta]

[ Ugh. He'd seen this brat around here and there, and while he'd never spoken to her before -- fucking figures that she's immediately going to show her colors as a pain in the ass. And while he's terribly tempted to cuss her out, at the moment it feels like his throat's clogged with sandpaper. Gen just ends up glaring at her for a moment before shifting position to angle himself away from her.

Which on its own probably wouldn't bother her? Except the cat takes the chance to tucks itself into a little nook between his chest and the back of the bench, outside of convenient petting range. ]

[killandrecycle]

[How rude! She was actually sort of enjoying herself there. With his back turned to her, Gen can't see the smile fading from her face, only to be replaced by a scowl. The best thing to do would have been to just play along. Now she's gone from being mildly annoying to being annoyed herself.]

You disturbed their rest. What sort of person would do such an awful thing? Aren't you ashamed of yourself?

[Of course she doesn't REALLY care, she just wants to be a bother. Not that the poor guy had done anything to deserve it, of course. She can just tell he's suffering, and wants to make it worse.]

iv / wildcard-ish.

[subsist]

[ the noise that jostles gen right out of his reverie is the same cat who took it upon itself to nap on him all afternoon that one time. it meows softly as it spots him, tail perked up and alert because it got spooked with how gen reacted. it probably would have approached him eventually had it not for someone else coming into the picture, picking up the cat from behind with a fond noise. ]

There you are. [ it's none other than kaeya, and he hasn't realized gen is right here too just yet, too enamoured by how cute the feline is. ] I've been looking all over for...

[ the entire time he speaks these words, his eye eventually looks up, making him trail off once he sees how miserable the other aion looks. he raises an eyebrow at the sorry sight. ]

You don't look so good. [ the cat meows again, as if agreeing. ] Can't sleep?

[ just going to do his best and pretend none of what happened at venera... actually happened, yeah. that's the plan. ]

[epiprocta]

[ Oh, it's this asshole.

He'd been giving the cat a bleary stare, practically daring it to come bother him again, and Gen's honestly not sure if Kaeya showing up to intercept the furry little bastard is a boon or a curse.

Well, there he is, either way. And Gen directs his gaze upwards to give Kaeya a look like he's asked something incredibly stupid: ]

No, my hobby is hanging out on balconies before the sun's even up.

[ Too bad his shitty, sarcastic retort is badly defanged by the hoarse edge to his voice, further handicapped by the way Gen peters off into a brief coughing fit. And while he'd normally be far more conscious of how he appears to others ... right now, he can't bring himself to care, draping himself bonelessly over the railing like simply staying standing is too much effort. One more cough before he grumbles, ]

What, you got the same hobby?

[ Or is Kaeya up at this stupid hour just to chase after cats? ]

[subsist]

[ well. someone's not in a good mood.

kaeya is tempted to take his feline friend and himself out of this situation before it has a chance to get worse, because it probably will, knowing him, but he decides against it for the time being. he might as well see what's up with this guy. it can't be anything good, if the way gen is draped over the railing like a ragdoll is anything to go by. ]

I was looking for a quiet place, before I ran into this cute little thing.

[ he lifts up the cat's paw to "wave" at gen, and he can only hope it makes gen cranky. ]

Seeing as this balcony is taken, I'll look elsewhere, but... [ an eyebrow raised. ] Did you run out of your smokes? It looks like you could use one.

v like in vandalism

[expiera]

[It's sometimes in the afternoon, when one may catch a whiff something sweet and buttery wafting through the citadel hallways. Gen won't be left guessing for long, whether he's wandering around or headed for somewhere in particular: a brown-haired middle-aged woman, one of the many servants in the Regent's employ recognizable by her apron and dress, is carefully making her way down the corridor he just rounded. She's holding onto a full tray of cupcakes with both hands, there's a (baker's) dozen and they are... decorated.

Upon noticing him, she will offer him a small and deferential bow-nod of her head, but no more as she continues on her way. Will he let her go in peace, or...? They ARE close to the citadel kitchen, whether or not he's aware.]

v as in very sweet (like ciel-chan)

[epiprocta]

[ He's normally not really a sweets person. Normally.

But he's spending more time training these days to try and keep his mind off his nicotine withdrawals. And it turns out quitting smoking cold-turkey wrecks havoc on your appetite. Not to mention the constant desire for some sort of replacement oral fixation. So when one afternoon finds him freshly-showered after another long, exhausting training session, heading down the hallway in search of some sort of distraction, only to cross paths with one of the servants bearing a big tray of cupcakes ...

... he may or may not just watch her back as she retreats, feeling his mouth water.

Who knows where those cupcakes are going, and he's not going to cause that servant any trouble on the 1% chance that they're meant for the Regent or whatever. But he can catch a whiff of that smell coming from the kitchen up ahead -- maybe he can get the staff there to give him any leftovers. Or make him another batch.

Rude asshole that he is, Gen doesn't even knock before simply shoving the door open with his shoulder and poking his head into the kitchen in search of a servant to hassle. ]

Hey.

v as in violence, like how our threads end up being at LEAST half the time 🥊

[expiera]

[Spidey cuppy cakes for the Regent, truly an entity of taste, the almighty avatar of the Kenoma... Good for Gen not robbing the citadel orphans, though! It's no secret that his overall character is less than pleasant, but at least he's not literally "steals-cupcakes-from-children" tier. What stout moral character!! --That is.

The door opens to a quiet kitchen and a much stronger baking smell: yep, someone's definitely putting the facilities to use, but it's not a servant he'll find to hassle. Rather it's a head of dark blue busy making (black?) icing, surrounded by baking ingredients and tools but most importantly, half a dozen freshly baked cupcakes still sitting in their molding pan on the table between them.

The recognizable figure turns to him and blinks back at his voice, donning a white apron today as it is appropriate for when one is working in the kitchen. Oh, it's...

Hm. Well, this is...]

...

[Awkward Unexpected, let's go with that.]