dontpokethat: it could have been some other times also. who cares (it was the best of times)
Ginko ([personal profile] dontpokethat) wrote in [community profile] lostcarnival2017-04-13 10:14 pm

because we’re all one of a kind

Who: Ginko and whoever!
What: Ginko tries to do his job and restocks on cigarettes
When: Before and during performance week
Where: Around the carnival, specifically the menagerie and trailer park!
Warnings: Drugs not actually drugs. Weird animals, though!

A - evening of Day 81 - outside Trailer 13

Contrary to what some might assume, Ginko’s ever-present cigarettes don’t manifest out of thin air. At some point, if they want to make sure that they’ve got a steady supply, he or Tanyuu has to make them - and tonight, that’s exactly what Ginko is doing, since he’d rather get this done before performance time starts up.

He’s sitting outside his and Tanyuu’s trailer, with supplies laid out in front of him on a cloth - a mortar and pestle, a roll of paper, stacks of leaves harvested from an assortment of plants grown in and around the trailer - and the spewpa that Tanyuu had dubbed Miu nestled against his leg.

It would be a lot more convenient if mushi repellent could be made from just one kind of plant, but, no such luck. So here he is, grinding the herbal mix together, setting each rolled cigarette in a wooden box as he finishes.

It’s not particularly fast work, but he does it with a practiced hand and seems relaxed as he works, not paying particular attention to anything around him.

B - All week - Menagerie

Everything is always busier during performance weeks. It’s no surprise, really, but even after this long, Ginko is still impressed by the sheer degree to which that energy seems to permeate the carnival. It’s… exhilarating, in a way.

At the same time, though, it makes him glad that his involvement with the actual performances is so minimal. He’s not sure he could deal with that much excitement.

Instead, he keeps mostly to the menagerie during performances, focusing on the animals; there’s a lot to do, though it’s more manageable now that he isn’t the only animal keeper.

He won’t object of anyone wants to come by and chat… provided they don’t interfere with his work or try to mess with the animals. That, he’d rather avoid.

(( OOC: If you want to do something else, hit me up at [ profile] omixgirl10 or on discord! (Maggie#9624) ))
control_freak: (Hold onto your life)

[personal profile] control_freak 2017-04-16 05:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Foster's eyes flick up to make brief contact with Ginko's, ears lifting, before he looks back at the cigarette-in-progress. He remembers to smile a second too late in relation to that, and so smiles only the instant before he looks down--when the eye contact itself is breaking.

"That doesn't smell like pot."

It's observational, not... uh, suggestive. He really was expecting this to be weed, though--at which point he would probably have had nothing further to say to Ginko.

Foster's reputation for licentiousness is only partially true; alcohol and mind-altering substances might as well be a literal repellent to him.
control_freak: (Hold onto your humility)

[personal profile] control_freak 2017-04-16 07:45 pm (UTC)(link)
This is where Foster has to stop and search his memory as to whether he has seen those around. Things like that, he tends to disregard--if anything, it's very easy to assume it's just a symptom of something and not a real phenomenon.

But, yes, he does know what Ginko is talking about. He just... assumed it had something to do with the fae nature of the carnival, and not something preventable or otherwise interesting.

Now Ginko has his attention.

"My shadow--" You know, the weird monster that's taken up residence in it, the one that grabbed your face? "--isn't a big fan."

He frowns.

"... these are...." Is there a word that isn't cigarette or blunt that denotes a rolled object that's meant to be smoked? He can't think of any in time, so-- "...cigarettes."

Why cigarettes and not something like... say, a torch?
control_freak: (Hold onto your life)

[personal profile] control_freak 2017-04-16 08:33 pm (UTC)(link)
...on hand? Something about that statement strikes Foster as incongruous, but he doesn't concretely know 'why.' He has to think about it for a few.


Why would Ginko need it on hand--more specifically, why Ginko specifically? After a second or two, he turns it on its head, and reaches his conclusion:

"... do you attract them or something?" Wait-- "If that's how it works, is it necessary to smoke it at all, then?"

With other repellents, burning the leaves releases either a chemical or magical energy.
control_freak: (From across the untold miles)

[personal profile] control_freak 2017-04-21 05:06 pm (UTC)(link)
"I see...." Foster, audibly in thought, regards Ginko's cigarette pensively.

Honestly, if Ginko doesn't want people guessing his business, he should be more careful about the way he discloses information. If a hopeless waste of life with brain damage can figure it out, then it's not very much of a secret at all, is it?

He considers this for another second, then asks,

"May I see?"