[ If it wasn't for their empathic connection, he'd think he was hallucinating all of it.
He wouldn't have known why or where from. The words swirl together as a mixture of nonsense tinged with understanding: he hasn't done anything; he doesn't want the Regent to die; he does hate himself, but it's never come up so explicitly; part of him has always been ready for death, but it's rarely been an active want.
But the mess of those emotions. The way they hit him, and the way he instinctually understands them. There's a lot that goes over his head when it comes to picking up the feelings of other Lovers; there's a lot that never pierce the shell his comprehension. But Dextera's rage and frustration slam into him and a part of him is immediately receptive, curls around it, wants to absorb it into himself. In a way, the clarity it brings is soothing.
Then the rest of him is just confused, enough so that the feeling should rush out to meet the feelings hitting him. Amos stares up without seeing in Dextera's metaphysical direction, where he thinks he can feel all of this coming from. And... what the fuck did he do?
The sound of the air and the particles that make it up dull, quiet. The ground starts to feel steady beneath him. His skin feels almost slick from exertion — a comedown — something — and he distantly brings a hand to wipe at his face. It becomes less distant, the feeling of it clearer, and when he looks up again proper, the buildings are where they should be. The world is returning to what it actually is. And there's a spent trap lying a few paces in front of him.
Amos slowly gets back to his feet. Parts of him are sore now, heavy, but... at least he isn't in any real pain. Not like the night before. He's just... he doesn't understand, and turns out very little of it has to do with the hallucinogens he'd been dosed with. ]
What the fuck was that?
[ He looks around him, asking it to himself, to anybody within hearing range. He's never felt someone's sheer hatred directed towards him like that; never taken it on so strongly it became a part of him.
no subject
He wouldn't have known why or where from. The words swirl together as a mixture of nonsense tinged with understanding: he hasn't done anything; he doesn't want the Regent to die; he does hate himself, but it's never come up so explicitly; part of him has always been ready for death, but it's rarely been an active want.
But the mess of those emotions. The way they hit him, and the way he instinctually understands them. There's a lot that goes over his head when it comes to picking up the feelings of other Lovers; there's a lot that never pierce the shell his comprehension. But Dextera's rage and frustration slam into him and a part of him is immediately receptive, curls around it, wants to absorb it into himself. In a way, the clarity it brings is soothing.
Then the rest of him is just confused, enough so that the feeling should rush out to meet the feelings hitting him. Amos stares up without seeing in Dextera's metaphysical direction, where he thinks he can feel all of this coming from. And... what the fuck did he do?
The sound of the air and the particles that make it up dull, quiet. The ground starts to feel steady beneath him. His skin feels almost slick from exertion — a comedown — something — and he distantly brings a hand to wipe at his face. It becomes less distant, the feeling of it clearer, and when he looks up again proper, the buildings are where they should be. The world is returning to what it actually is. And there's a spent trap lying a few paces in front of him.
Amos slowly gets back to his feet. Parts of him are sore now, heavy, but... at least he isn't in any real pain. Not like the night before. He's just... he doesn't understand, and turns out very little of it has to do with the hallucinogens he'd been dosed with. ]
What the fuck was that?
[ He looks around him, asking it to himself, to anybody within hearing range. He's never felt someone's sheer hatred directed towards him like that; never taken it on so strongly it became a part of him.
... Weird. ]