Fortunately, there are no poets around to observe and speak of what they see. Words still fill the small room, though, as the diminutive man in a bishop's travelling attire tries to connect with the distant monk.
"You carry a heavy burden of pain and hurting and guilt. It bitters your every waking moment, Genjou Sanzou; I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice." Earnest blue eyes, no shutters up. Hazel displays his heart on his sleeve.
"Ch." Disinterested smoke rings float apathetically towards the ceiling.
"Anyone who is able to look beyond themselves for even one moment can see it. You wield your hurt like a shield when you should let it go! There is no sense in carrying on like this." Keeping earnest pleading out of his voice is impossible, so the bishop lets it through. Salvation is an open offer, but you can't reach for it if you don't know it's there.
Silence. Then a gust of smoke travels from a down-turned crook of Sanzou's mouth and out into the room. He studies the small man who sits across the table, waiting for wisdom and receiving bullshit in its place.
Hazel sighs. "I'm not "telling stories", Sanzou-han. God will carry away all guilt and sin from anyone who asks. Anyone who will but lay his troubles in God's hands and believe in Him will be saved.
A snort. "Saved? Bah, the gods save no man or woman or child. They have no regard for those who walk the Earth, so anyone looking for salvation will have to create it for himself."
"That's not true! Perhaps the "gods" of these lands are like that; petty and cruel, uncaring at best; but God -- the one true God is good and merciful--"
A derogatory ch! spits its way past the half-smoked cigarette.
"--yes merciful! He sent His own son to Earth to rid humanity of sin, and open the Heavens to our souls, and..."
"Bull! Shit! You really expect me to listen to this drivel? I have better things to do than to listen to a deluded little man who believes in a god who sent his son to Earth. As if!"
"It's quite true, actually. Jehovah got the idea from me, as it happens."
Sanzou curses and turns to glare at the newcomer.
Hazel starts and stares at the apparition. And stares. And stares.
Kanzeon Bosatsu lounges against the wall; hir dress is as flimsy as ever, flaunting rather than covering and even in the gas lit atmosphere of the room, one can see the dark, perky nipples though the misty fabric.
"What the hell are you doing here, you..." Sanzou swallows the rest of his growly greeting, but with difficulty.
Hazel struggles to avert his eyes from the painted whore, wondering who she is and how she got into the room without him noticing. Without Gato stopping her. And how it is that Sanzou knows her? A monk, even a heathen one, has no business knowing painted women.
"You speak great blasphemy, woman," he breathes. "How dare you take His name in vain?"
Kanzeon favours the bishop with an elevated eyebrow and a throaty chuckle. "Who're you calling woman, little man? Not to mention blasphemer? I am far older than your god, so you really should show a bit of respect here--Hazel Groß of the West." Se pushes away from the wall and sways lazily over to the table where the two holy men sit.
Sanzou's mouth tightens to a thin, angry line and he crushes his smoke into the table. "What the hell do you want? I'm not gonna enter a pissing contest on your behalf, so if that's what this is about, why don't you go challenge this Jehovah guy instead?" His tone is flat and acidic.
Hazel lifts a hand to his medallion and fingers it. The cold, heavy feel of it and the nearly unnoticeable vibration from its contained power calm him. It is easier now to regain some of his composure and to look this mad Jezebel in the eye. Hazel looks up and wishes he hadn't.
Kanzeon's eyes are ancient. There's a twinkle of mischief in one and a twinkle of feral wisdom in the other. Se smirks and locks gazes with Hazel, trapping him like the serpent did Eve.
"I am Kanzeon Bosatsu, the great Bodhisattva of Mercy, one of the five ruling entities of Heaven. Are you sure you know what you're doing, little man?"
The fingering turns into a death grip. Hazel refuses to lose himself in those eyes; he holds on to his faith, his mission, his reason and his self so hard that the edges of his pendant would have drawn blood had it not been for the gloves he wears.
"Begone, succubus! I have heard of the Bodhisattva of Mercy, and I have seen the idols. You look nothing like it! I know what I'm doing, and what I'm doing is ridding creation of monsters like you!" He presents the pendant and starts muttering a prayer.
"Pater noster; qui es in caelis..."
Kanzeon goggles owlishly at him first, then se starts snickering. Soon, the prayer is drowned out by the hearty laughter of Mercy. "I suppose lifting my skirts won't help..." se manages.
Sanzou grits his teeth. "Don't. You. Dare. Why don't you just piss off and bug someone else? I don't have time for this shit."
The goddess ignores hir irate errand boy. Instead se bends down to lean across the table, jiggling hir ample breasts at the bishop as se reaches to grab his pendant. The prayer falters and dies on the Amen.
"To carry such an artifact is a great responsibility. You would do well to ensure that you know both sides of your medallion, little man."
With that se lets go of it and flicks a playful finger at the tip of Hazel's nose. Hir smile is dazzling as always.
"Wh... Who are you?" Hazel whispers, clinging to his pater noster for dear life.
"Are you deaf as well as stupid? The hag just told you her name--Kanzeon Bosatsu, bitch goddess of Mercy," Sanzou snaps. He's annoyed now, far beyond offering any sort of diplomacy or lip service.
Kanzeon straightens up and eyes her monk. "Still quite the people-person, are we? Must be hard when you're blind as a bat, dear nephew." Se pats him affectionately on the head, only to have hir hand irritably slapped away.
"Hands off! Ch!"
"Well!" Se claps hir hands together in a jingling of bracelets and smiles. "I think my work here is done, boys. Wisdom has once again been generously dispensed, in spite of your disrespectful behaviour. Do try to use your brains every once in a while; I'll be disappointed if I have to come down here and sort out your messes for you, you know. Ta-ta!"
Hazel stares at the lingering motes of light where the outrageous creature had just stood. "What was that?!"
Sanzou pushes his chair back with a bang and gets up. "This is too fucking stupid. I need beer and silence and absence of idiots." The smoke is already lit and trapped between his lips.
Hazel sits back and glances from the now empty air where the self-proclaimed bodhisattva had stood, to the door that just slammed shut behind Sanzou.
"Nephew?"
He rubs his forehead, then reaches for his hat and rises. "You keep on surprising me, Sanzou-han. What will be next, I wonder, what will be next..."
By the time Hazel steps out of the room to find Gato waiting for him, he is already smiling. In his mind, secretive little gears tick-tick happily away.