[ Matt isn't sure why his own phantom pain is worse at night. His entirely non-scientific and non-medical instinct is that it's because nighttime offers the fewest distractions. Nothing but loneliness and his own thoughts, which is why he's been trying to have as little of either as possible. Matt's exploration of Achamoth's nightlife has, therefore, gone from semi-frequent coping mechanism to daily medication. Sometimes he wrangles people to go with him--Liem, Amos, Childe--or is wrangled in turn. But the company isn't a constant; only the noise. The drinks, the drugs, the touch, anything to take the edge off.
That's why he's outside tonight. He's come back from an evening out and thought he'd walk off the last of his intoxication somewhere with plants. Matt's meandering along, mask dangling from his (remaining) fingertips, when he hears a groan.
His gaze snaps up. And for a bizarre moment, Matt feels like he's staring into a funhouse mirror. It's the same missing limb, the same echoed pain ... a different face attached.
ii-a
That's why he's outside tonight. He's come back from an evening out and thought he'd walk off the last of his intoxication somewhere with plants. Matt's meandering along, mask dangling from his (remaining) fingertips, when he hears a groan.
His gaze snaps up. And for a bizarre moment, Matt feels like he's staring into a funhouse mirror. It's the same missing limb, the same echoed pain ... a different face attached.
He says, in a tone of stunned understanding: ]
Oh.