The child knows how to recognize something Not Human. He is, himself, something with one foot in this plane and one foot in something entirely other, and even so young, one develops a quick sense for these things. Well, one does, unless they want to wind up spun up in a Jorogumo's web or in bits and pieces in a Yamauba's larder.
He doesn't know Paimon for what he is, at least, but he knows him for what he isn't, and this gets a small, thin, humourless smile. How do you do, fellow human, lovely weather we're having.
He points to one bottle, his voice a slow, cold monotone.
"Onii-san is discerning. This one is for headaches," he explains. Then another. "Sore throat and coughing. And --" he points to a particular murky 'potion'. " -- joint pain."
Oddly enough, the ingredients in them are all correct. It's the preparation that leaves something to be desired.
It's when the child speaks — communication returned, contact secured — that the demon also Realises there's more to this, to the child. There's something there, something his spirit prickles in sensitivity to. And so his stare opens a little, pupils widening, expanding even more. Gazing back at the child-thing, but calmly, just quietly taking him in without blinking a single time... ever.
They are just two very normal dudes having a very normal business exchange.
It just makes Paimon feel ever more confident and excited in what he's looking at (if they're coming from Something Not Entirely Human, then they're surely extremely good!) and he's leaning a bit closer, eyes slowly traveling to each one as they're pointed out.
Headaches, sore throats, coughing. Joint pain. These are all ailments that his human vessel experiences on occasion (frequent occasion really, Peter doesn't exercise or eat healthily, or drink water....) He thinks his Witch could also make use of them, perhaps add them to her own potions or experiments.
He's very quiet and very serious for a few moments, thinking which he wants to bring home. The especially-murky joint pain one for sure; it looks nice and cloudy and important. The demon gestures to it, feeling excited.
"I would like this one. And.... this one." Cue the one for headaches. And as for something offered in return — the demon holds up a hand and gives a little shift of his fingers. With a soft tinkling sound to the air, a solid gold coin appears in his fingers, and his eyes brighten a little; he loves showing off his conjuring to anyone...
"I have these. They are shiny, and the people here enjoy them for trading. I will provide as many as you desire."
That's actual gold. The child has only seen it maybe twice in his life, flaunted by the obscenely wealthy in their silks and brocades.
He's careful about trusting it, taking the coins almost gingerly before closing his eyes, and pressing them with his thumb. There is no scent of leaves or stone, just the faint gleaming oily scent of precious metal.
...So it's not an illusion.
The coins vanish into his sleeve and he passes the two bottles Paimon selected into his hands.
"Onii-san paid a bit too much," understatement of the year, "and I cannot make change. But in turn, I will show you something good."
If he was human, it wouldn't be a problem. He could just take the gold from someone who clearly doesn't know the value of things and run. But the child isn't human, and that means there are things written in blood and bone and things older than stone that compels him to square any debt, real or otherwise.
He packs away his bottles and cloth in a grubby little sack before gesturing for Paimon to follow.
The demon is silent and still as he watches the child examine the coins, patient and then pleased when they earn approval. A demon king giving out gold without being explicitly asked for it is not... entirely how his type of entity functions, but this place has bent and warped and reshaped certain rules. In many ways he is a trapped thing. In other ways, he has become more free.
He's ready to conjure more coins if needed, but this seems to be enough — more than enough, apparently, and Paimon finally blinks with curiosity (well, it's sort of a blink, more of a half-flutter of the eyelids; working a human face is still weird). Something good...? Oh, he's extremely excited to see this for himself, reaching to gently tuck the potion bottles into his bag, safely nestled inbetween the other items.
With that, he moves to follow the mysterious thing, head dipped and eyes alive and aware with a certain brightness. The concept of exchange is at the very root of his functioning, at the core of what he is, ancient and sacred. If the child needs to give him something to make up a difference, then he will certainly follow that — and he's driven by a sparkling curiosity to see what it may be.
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no subject
He doesn't know Paimon for what he is, at least, but he knows him for what he isn't, and this gets a small, thin, humourless smile. How do you do, fellow human, lovely weather we're having.
He points to one bottle, his voice a slow, cold monotone.
"Onii-san is discerning. This one is for headaches," he explains. Then another. "Sore throat and coughing. And --" he points to a particular murky 'potion'. " -- joint pain."
Oddly enough, the ingredients in them are all correct. It's the preparation that leaves something to be desired.
no subject
They are just two very normal dudes having a very normal business exchange.
It just makes Paimon feel ever more confident and excited in what he's looking at (if they're coming from Something Not Entirely Human, then they're surely extremely good!) and he's leaning a bit closer, eyes slowly traveling to each one as they're pointed out.
Headaches, sore throats, coughing. Joint pain. These are all ailments that his human vessel experiences on occasion (frequent occasion really, Peter doesn't exercise or eat healthily, or drink water....) He thinks his Witch could also make use of them, perhaps add them to her own potions or experiments.
He's very quiet and very serious for a few moments, thinking which he wants to bring home. The especially-murky joint pain one for sure; it looks nice and cloudy and important. The demon gestures to it, feeling excited.
"I would like this one. And.... this one." Cue the one for headaches. And as for something offered in return — the demon holds up a hand and gives a little shift of his fingers. With a soft tinkling sound to the air, a solid gold coin appears in his fingers, and his eyes brighten a little; he loves showing off his conjuring to anyone...
"I have these. They are shiny, and the people here enjoy them for trading. I will provide as many as you desire."
no subject
That's actual gold. The child has only seen it maybe twice in his life, flaunted by the obscenely wealthy in their silks and brocades.
He's careful about trusting it, taking the coins almost gingerly before closing his eyes, and pressing them with his thumb. There is no scent of leaves or stone, just the faint gleaming oily scent of precious metal.
...So it's not an illusion.
The coins vanish into his sleeve and he passes the two bottles Paimon selected into his hands.
"Onii-san paid a bit too much," understatement of the year, "and I cannot make change. But in turn, I will show you something good."
If he was human, it wouldn't be a problem. He could just take the gold from someone who clearly doesn't know the value of things and run. But the child isn't human, and that means there are things written in blood and bone and things older than stone that compels him to square any debt, real or otherwise.
He packs away his bottles and cloth in a grubby little sack before gesturing for Paimon to follow.
no subject
He's ready to conjure more coins if needed, but this seems to be enough — more than enough, apparently, and Paimon finally blinks with curiosity (well, it's sort of a blink, more of a half-flutter of the eyelids; working a human face is still weird). Something good...? Oh, he's extremely excited to see this for himself, reaching to gently tuck the potion bottles into his bag, safely nestled inbetween the other items.
With that, he moves to follow the mysterious thing, head dipped and eyes alive and aware with a certain brightness. The concept of exchange is at the very root of his functioning, at the core of what he is, ancient and sacred. If the child needs to give him something to make up a difference, then he will certainly follow that — and he's driven by a sparkling curiosity to see what it may be.