butterfly wings and tea ;; open
For as long as they have been around, the question of otherworldly beings and their origins has been asked countless times by a countless number of people. People may spend forever wondering about these oddballs of reality, when the fact is that they simply have no real place in the world. They are things that shouldn't exist - beings that do not belong, without a clearly defined purpose. They simply are.
It is only when they attach themselves to something real and human, something that does belong in the world, that they become dangerous and must be gotten rid of. It is only then, that the medicine seller, simply known as that, is called upon to do the world's dirty work. Not human, and not quite a spirit himself, he is also a being that should not exist; a creature formed of the will to eradicate the danger posed by the very same sort of will, who will only live until he is the last.
He roams. He roamed, really, until the bathhouse. Somewhat of an anomaly itself, it seemed like the perfect sort of place for a medicine seller such as himself, to inhabit, if only as a preemptive measure - there were plenty of potential risks flocking to the building, it would be easy work to simply prevent them from becoming something dangerous ... it was as if the place needed him, really.
He graciously accepted and subsequently took to his given job (the witch had handed it to him, really) with his similarly given name, stalking through the massive building like some sort of giant, exotic butterfly. A giant butterfly that decided he was quite thirsty after a long day of watching, and proceeded to have tea in one of the bathhouse's many halls. Here is as good a place as any, anyway.