[open] some Kenoma come up to Godsblood the other day...

[baltimores]

WHO: Amos, Gen, Eustace, Childe, any Pleroma
WHAT: Amos wants a gun, Eustace wants to make a portal, and in order to make it happen they go to...
WHERE: Godsblood.
WHEN: Towards the end of Visoseri/start of Soviseri
WARNINGS: None, unless you count bullying of various Pleroma; will add as necessary


The content of this entry is intended to be an OOC explanation of what's going on to keep everyone up to speed; any characters who may be in Godsblood during this time period are free to top level or tag out. This is not an event and simply a unique instance that some characters are kinda sorta technically in enemy territory, which opens itself up to thread opportunities that would not otherwise be possible.

Basically: four Kenoma are journeying up to Godsblood, albeit not all together and through different means.

Amos and Gen will be arriving via a boat directly from Achamoth, and accordingly, will be outed as Kenoma Aions right from the get-go — the populace should know who they are, and word of their arrival would likely get around. Amos is there because he wants to build a higher quality gun than what they have in Achamoth and Godsblood is the place to do it; Gen is there to serve as backup/moral support/because they're friends, okay. Story plotting link here for more details.

Eustace and Childe will be sneaking in via carriage from the Artisan shrine/a portal and will therefore not be known as Kenoma Aions upon entry to Godsblood — unless there are characters there who already know who they are, that is. Eustace is setting up a portal to facilitate travel between Achamoth and Godsblood. This is not public knowledge and non-Kenoma Aions/NPCs are unlikely to know about this. Story plotting link here for more details.

The mods have also provided some guidelines for how interactions could go between characters so that any Pleroma wouldn't necessarily have to out themselves as Aions when it comes to interacting with Amos or Gen, who are publicly declared as such. Highlighting what was said further down in Amos' plotting comment:

It wouldn't be unreasonable for a visiting Aion to be chatting up people within Godsblood so sharing a meal ... wouldn't be a dead give away, but it might tie them to the Aions on the rumor network if they do it in public. Whether they are just strangers Gen and Amos are dining with or whether they are connected to Achamoth won't be clear, but it would definitely have implications ... It's definitely a risk, at any rate.

As for meeting in a busy street or a public park the connection is still possible but a lot less likely, since the odds of them chatting up some rando in the park is a lot more likely than sitting down for dinner with them. It'd also be a lot more obvious if someone was spying on them, unlike a closed environment like a pub or eatery, so that'd probably be the safest option without going somewhere deserted or private.

Comments

[baltimores]

[ Amos gradually opens up as Abel goes on, a genuine curiosity to his gaze. He's taking everything Abel has to say seriously. He wants Amos to think about it? He already is.

And Amos' first response is to laugh humourlessly into his drink. ]

You remind me a lot of Cap. [ His captain, from back home — though of course he's going to speak about him like Abel already knows exactly who he's talking about, even if context clues don't make it obvious enough. It's not really that important, but. ] That guy wouldn't give up on anyone. Not without good reason, at least, and guess I never gave him one that was good enough. I mean, he pointed a gun at the back of my head once, but I let him, 'cause I knew he wasn't gonna shoot. Didn't have it in him.

[ He sets his drink back down, leans his forearm all the way across the bartop, making himself comfortable and at home. There's a fondness, a deep nostalgia, to his voice, to his words; one that should be in deep contrast to his earlier sentiments. Like he's inadvertently proving Abel's point — that somewhere inside of Amos, there actually is a person. ]

I don't know if he ever figured out what I actually was. I tried to tell him once, but maybe it was too early on. Maybe he forgot about it. Maybe he just decided he didn't care, because we went through some shit together and he knew I'd have his back. Either way.

[ Amos tilts his head outwards, loosely indicating the rest of the packed tavern, his voice sliding into a casual drawl. ]

I'm a bad person because I do bad things. I could kill everyone here right now and wouldn't feel a thing. Couldn't give you a good reason why I shouldn't, except that I know it'd fuck things up for people back home — [ Achamoth. Achamoth is home — ] so I'm not gonna do anything. But that part of you that tells you not to do shit like that? Yeah. I don't have it.

[ He sighs, his shoulders slumping, like he's bracing himself for Abel's rebuttal, before lifting his gaze back up to look him in the eye, honest as ever. ]

There's no doing anything with men like me 'cept finding someone good to put us to work or putting us down. I mean, you can wait. It's kinda nice of you. But that isn't gonna change anything.

[inutilis]

[ to have a comparison made to someone that Amos clearly holds in high regard and with fondness... it has something of a small, bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of Abel's lips. it's reassuring, too-- good to know that Amos had people like that back at home to return to one day. people who might help him get where he needs to go, even if he doesn't finish getting there now. Abel really does believe he could. will.

...but the smile slowly fades as his friend continues onward, and the image Amos paints of himself - of his self-image, of his own distinctly black-and-white understanding of himself... it makes him feel intensely tired, wearied, on his behalf. it is something beyond a mere sadness or grief. perhaps Amos does not permit himself to feel that grief for himself, so... it is up to Abel, to those left behind in his world, to do so for him. ]

I'd like to meet him. Your friend?

[ 'Cap.' ]

Mm, I wonder if he'd tell you the same thing I will. And if he would, I wonder if that means you're good as outnumbered? H-ha.

[ he gently prods Amos' forearm with a finger - it's a light jest, of course - as if 'two versus one' means anything, but... perhaps the brief bubbles of some levity are necessary to get through such serious subject matter. if one cannot laugh, they'll cry, right? ]

There is that voice inside of you. It's talking to you right now, I bet-- and it always will. It's just... it's been made so quiet by the pain you endured that you can't hear it, and even if you could... you haven't learned how to understand what it says. When something hurts us so badly we cut off, numb from ourselves inside-- it takes time. Time, and the patient hand of those around us to learn to hear that voice, to understand it, again.

But you could.

[ one finger is softly, delicately, replaced by the gentle clasp of Abel's hand. ]

...It isn't your fault it's been silenced, Amos. But if you let it speak-- much as it might hurt... might crush you at first to hear it? You deserve what waits beyond that.

[ the ability to heal. grow.

to be happy. to move beyond the past, the pain - to be so much stronger a man, the sort who truly would build a world that would be bereft the sort of men who had made him suffer.

...Abel truly hopes he gets to see it. ]

[baltimores]

[ He looks down at that hand. Doesn't move his arm. Doesn't move any part of himself, just taking it in, before looking back up to meet the priest's gaze.

For a moment, Amos is somewhere else. A campfire, dressed in nothing more than an increasingly dirtying white robe, deadened to everything around him, inside him. Effectively switched off until a voice had broken through, startling him with... a cup of water. A cup of water, and a request for company, and someone he'd responded to by wanting to protect.

And now there's a fucking white aura emanating from Abel's being that jerks him back to reality, even as the words he says bring that instinct right back. To protect Abel from all the shit that's surely happened to him already, that's on the horizon. Not the way Innocence had intended, not with empty promises and a body that'd been twisted into no longer being his, but to place himself between Abel and any threat. Make sure anything would have to go through him first, and it wouldn't—

Or to take the shot for him, do the things he might not be able to do. Like accept the Kenoma. Abel hadn't been able to do that, leaving Amos to carry the burden instead. Which is fine, because he knows he can take it; which isn't fine, because he has to snuff out that initial instinct Abel had inspired in him, that he apparently still manages to do.

Amos' smile is small, doesn't reach his eyes, is almost apologetic. ]

You'd get along with him. I dunno if he could put it the way you do, but he'd probably like that. Nodding along in the background and saying some shit like, "Yeah, what he said."

[ He hesitates; he still doesn't move. ]

I asked someone once. A doctor. If something could be done to take away a person's empathy, is there anything that could be done to bring it back? And she said no. Brain gets damaged, it's damaged. I didn't develop properly and there's never gonna be any fixing that. Only making sure others don't gotta experience it.

[ Which essentially is the voice Abel talks about. Everything he's saying is true — it is inside him, it is something he tries to live his life by, and he's completely deaf to it, leaving it buried under a packed concentration of sheer nothingness, all but snuffed out before it so much as got to see the light of day... and yet still clinging to life. Otherwise, he wouldn't give a shit. What the Kenoma and the Regent offer — he wouldn't give a shit, wouldn't care, wouldn't be trying to see it through because as far as he can tell, it's the right thing to do.

Amos withdraws his arm from Abel's touch. Finishes off his drink. Fishes some jools out; more than he needs to, probably, but he likes the place, so might as well tip. Places them on the counter next to his empty glass but still doesn't make any movements to get up, to completely withdraw. ]

There never was anything for me and there isn't ever gonna be anything for me. So I'm gonna tear it all down. And then everyone else can start fresh.

[inutilis]

[ Amos well and truly believes he's been broken.

it's alright; as tragic and depressing as that is - as much as Abel's known that for some time, now - it doesn't change anything. not for either of them.

the priest slowly drains a bit more of his drink; he makes no signs to lift or rise from his point of relaxation here at the bar, even as Amos shows signs of approaching an imminent farewell. ]

If that voice were truly gone inside you, I wouldn't be here.

[ his smile, this time, is... warm. like basking in the company of an old, old friend - someone for whom he's shared the trials and tribulations of life, who he's shared years and years of companionship beside. Amos feels like that, sometimes. it's strange... but it's nice, and--

it's bittersweet. ]

Amos? ...No matter what happens from here, please don't forget what I said. I'll be here-- I will be here if you ever change your mind, if you decide you want something more for yourself than this. No questions asked.

[baltimores]

[ One last look. One last look that splits him open, takes him back to before Kenoma, Pleroma, any of it. One honest and confused and wistful and this close to leaning right into it, taking what Abel says and wrapping it around himself like a blanket, cradling it to his chest like it's something precious.

And then he blinks, his mouth twisting a little. Not a grimace, just some light distortion, like he can't really discern what kind of expression to make, so it's... this. Eyes slightly narrowed, the knowledge that Abel is an enemy directly conflicting with this, and he doesn't like it. ]

You might regret that one day.

[ His voice is low, soft, self-deprecating. Seems like a bad idea.

Some part of him still really likes it, though.

With that, Amos slides off his chair, makes his way out of the tavern. He's got shit to do tomorrow, so time to focus on that instead. ]